bluevorlon
29th Sep 01, 3:25 PM
Note: this has already been posted on the Short Story Competition thread, (found at the top of the forum) but in case you haven't read that...
Any comments, positive or negative welcome...
-blu
-------------------------
Sparks
By bluevorlon
---------------------
There was little hope for him this time. The doctor drifted around the table, carefully examining his battered frame. The man slept on. Cables and valves hung over him: a giant synthetic spider web, whispering to him in mechanical hisses and clicks. The machines -their gangly limbs making up the web- watched on, ever vigilant, ever silent. The doctor murmured into a recorder, taking a reading here, pressing a button there. Subdued movements. He turned to the dark figure standing in the doorway.
'He's displaying quite extensive injuries… It doesn't look too good. Not in this- with this equipment'
'Poor soul' murmured the figure, a shape, a phantom. A half-person.
'Sorry?'
'Nothing'
'Shall we... I mean, do you, wish to continue?'
'I see no reason not to'
The doctor licked his parched lips. Unable to speak. Unwilling to speak. One, the other, neither, either. He scratched his head; looking down at the broken man before him, lying on the table like a slab of meat. Spider web above him, cold steel beneath him, machines clicked and whirred in perfect time.
He gently inserted a hypodermic into the patient's arm, pushing the plunger down, watching as the blue liquid inside roared and bubbled as the pressure suddenly dramatically changed, rushing down the syringe into the awaiting artery. Angry like a storm.
As the chemical entered the man's body the machines erupted into a chorus of chimes and beeps. He began rolling and struggling against his restraints, screaming without a voice.
*******
The man poured his meagre allowance of milk into the cup, watching as it gradually infused into the black liquid like a malevolent cancerous organism, clouding and discolouring the previously uniform dark into a moody chesnut. He stirred the mixture momentarily, observing the miniature storm before him, a whirlwind occurring quietly in his cup. He took a sip, allowing the burning hot liquid to spread through his weary body. A woman sat next to him, long dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, eyes closed, body exhausted. She took his hand in hers and sighed.
Far away the sky began to split as thunder intoned its greeting. Within the tired aircraft hangar everything shook momentarily, some of the man's coffee spilled over the edge of the cup, slowly trickling across the table.
"Jack" the woman began, "They're getting closer"
"I know" The man; Jack, replied.
"How much time do you think we have left?"
"Not long. A few hours perhaps"
He took another long sip.
"We should be out of here by then"
The woman looked up and sighed, gripping his hand,
"It's doesn't feel real. It's like a dream. How can they... how did they?... How could this-"
Her sentence crashed and spluttered to a halt, as she tried to find the required vocabulary to express her own fears.
They sat in silence.
She rested her head across his shoulder, he ran his scarred fingers through her hair absent mindedly.
"All things..." he murmured
"What?"
"Nothing"
Another biting spasm of pain, Jack slipped away, the woman beside him also. The hangar, the people, the ship, the storm, that world, all drifting away. Gurgling down the plughole, all colours mixing together to form a murky, muddy nondescript substance, undefinable or classifiable, just matter. An impossible haze, that ducked out of the light whenever he approached. Out of his grasp, away from his outstretched fingertips. He strained for them, tried to catch the colours, the moments, stop them washing away. But they felt like sand and poured and drifted across his skin, unmoving, irretrievable.
*******
The patient rolled and struggled against his restraints. Teeth gritted, fists so tightly clenched a trickle of blood emerged from his palms. Raging against the demons that didn't exist. He stretched out grasping. Clutching at air, hands waving frantically. Reaching the peak of his mental feedback. Then suddenly, he collapsed back onto the bed. Unmoving, still.
Blood dripped onto the floor.
The doctor peered at the patient over a pair of thin rimmed spectacles, a quizzical expression etched across his face. He turned to the machines, their cacophony subsiding now, returning to their quiet vigil. Reading their figures his brow furrowed.
The phantom murmured behind him.
"Try again... he can take it."
Another fifty thousand volt shock.
A world brought back sharply into focus.
********
Jack handed his security card to the awaiting guard on the door. It was all there, his name, rank, number, clearance, the stamp marking him worthy of 'special privileges’, his status of 'vital importance'
The guard opened the door for him.
‘Vital importance’, the only thing separating him from the millions outside this door were those two words.
He stepped through into a cavernous hangar bay, once home to thousands of commercial civilian passengers, now commandeered by the military in these dim, muddled times.
There were no windows, only a grubby skylight, it's pitiful illumination augmented by a series of harsh electric tubes running across the arched roof. The brilliant artificial light served only to accentuate the tiredness in everyone's eyes. No-one had escaped unscathed, even these few, the hundred or so people sat hunched at tables, even they had scars. Faded posters adorned the walls, long forgotten security notices, adverts for clothing companies, leisure conglomerates, civilian airlines, pictures of families, a parade of smiling and happy people: a facade revealed by their torn and battered state, ignored as they hang lifelessly from the dull hangar walls.
A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist, breaking Jack out of his momentary dream, he smiled.
"We made it Jack"
"Yep," and as an afterthought "finally."
He turned round and kissed the owner of those arms.
"I hate to say I told you so but..."
He grinned at the dark haired woman in front of him, she sighed in mock desperation
"I know I know... You were right, as always, they would find a way to get you out of here"
"Both of us" he reminded her
"True"
She kissed him again, a release of anxiety and an expression of relief.
"I'm gonna go get coffee, you want some?"
"No thanks"
"Ok, I'll be right back"
She smiled, flashing those brilliant green eyes of hers, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he watched, momentarily entranced.
"I'll go get us a seat" she replied
He headed over to a dilapidated looking vending machine, fishing in his jacket for loose change.
Then it all vanished... a slow fade out, the hangar slowly tearing itself into its constituent components, colours diverging, fading, retreating before an advancing army of thought and recollection. Time slowed to treacle, the omnipresent background chatter flowing out of audible range and into unending white noise. Interference flowed round him like a swarm of devious fairies, snowing over and smothering him, ever increasing in volume and intensity until it became near unbearable, he fell to his knees and screamed. Screamed for his memory to return, screamed for her to return. As he opened his mouth they swarmed in, his central nervous system felt as if it was on fire as he passed out.
*********
"We still aren't getting the information we require" the phantom murmured, skulking in the control booth. "He's going in too early"
"It's all a question of resonance" the doctor replied. "What his mind chooses to recall, what particular moments stand out"
They watched, on a grainy flickering monitor, Jack kissing his wife. Strange voyeurs to an event already taken place.
"We'll need to try again"
"I'm not sure how much more of this he can take"
On the monitor Jack's world began to fade. He screamed.
"He can take it" the phantom whispered.
Jacks world began again, run on loop. Recorded, catalogued and stored for further reference.
"What he knows is of vital importance to us..."
"We can try again in a few hours" The doctor replied.
"Good"
The phantom turned and left silently. The doctor pushed a button on his console, Jack and his wife dutifully appeared in the flickering green of the monitor. He watched on.
*********
He stirred the milk into the styrofoam cup, looking out the skylight he thought he could faintly hear the sound of thunder.
'Special Privileges' he thought.
The machines began to chorus again
*********
"What about giving him a stronger dose?"
"I doubt it would have any significant effect. Any significant beneficial effect anyway. There's so much of the drug still in his system, there's such a large residual trace... his brain might go into synaptic overload."
"So we have to keep trying?"
"For now, it appears that way"
The phantom nodded, a gesture of resignation and immovability.
"Do so"
*********
Jack felt himself being pushed along by the crowd, pushed back by a herd of desperate flailing limbs. He thought he could hear the thunder again, much closer this time, almost inside the building.
He struggled and raged, every sinew in his body straining as he pushed against the tide.
"Wait, I have to go back!"
Jack's brain was acting on instinct, the shoal of rushing and flickering men and women, the screams and cries, the acrid smell of the lightning, the thunder rippling in his ears. The barrage of sensory data swept over him as his brain shut off, focusing on the one brightest light amidst an infinite field of thoughts.
"Get off me! I-"
He elbowed a ragged man into the wall as he stormed back down the corridor. His feet felt like lead, his throat dry, every muscle in his body aching with ten times its usual weight. He collided into a bulky security guard, decked out in full combat gear, towering over him like some sort of machine.
"We have to, I have to... She's just..."
Trying to say a hundred things at once Jack's brain spat out fragments.
"Sorry sir, We're leaving now. The shuttle's prepping for emergency dust off"
Another guard chimed.
"You have to come with us"
The second guard hit a button and the checkpoint's blast door came crashing down. A Giant metal shutter closing off the corridor with a deafening crash of finality. Crashing down before him.
Jack's vision exploded. His mind began to freewheel in recollection.
The shutter began to move, a squeak as the magnetic locks gave way.
He felt an arm connect with his stomach, knocking him back. He stumbled and lost his footing, she turned and looked at him. Time solidified; becoming a pool of mud he had to wade through to reach any kind of resolution. He fell through the security door; as the shutter began to come down her eyes widened, her jet black hair flowing as she turned her head. She pierced him with those shimmering green eyes, opened her mouth to speak. The shutter crashed down between them. Crashing down. A wall of steel and cold. Crashing down before him. The noise echoing in his ears, flowing through his cranium, a repetitive statacco laugh of steel, jackhammering into his wounded brain again and again and again, again, again. Crash. He threw himself at the wall, screaming her name. He could hear the thunder near him, back in the hangar, on the other side. He hurled his arm forwards, reaching out, trying to put his fist through the door, vaguely feeling something break as his hand impacted into the silent barrier ineffectually.
"SIR!"
The cold tone of the guard's voice cut through the warm and hazy air of memory. A wound still fresh.
"Just grab him."
"We're sorry to have to do this sir"
Two armoured hands roughly gripped his battered shoulders, pulling him back towards the shuttle and safety.
********
A house. Pretty. A life in the suburbs. Jack lay on the grass, and stared at the clouds. A woman sat next to him, allowing her jet black hair to dry in the sunlight. A lazy afternoon.
'Vital Importance'
A woman sat next to him, boxes lay outside the front door. A life in the suburbs. A morning promising a new start. Jack stared at the house. It was a pretty house, he thought. A pretty little house.
'Special Privileges'
Jack stood next to that house. A woman came and sat next to him, ashen faced, her jet black hair swaying slightly in the breeze. Boxes lay outside the front door. They were carried out of the house and onto the awaiting transport. Jack watched, eyes like stones.
'We're bringing you to a safe location Jack. We have reason to believe the enemy are planning something... something to do with you Jack. This is for your safety Jack, we can't let you fall into their hands Jack. You're of Vital Importance to us Jack.
Vital. He rolled the word around in his mouth. Trying it out for size on his tongue. He was vital. Vitally Important.
And now he was leaving.
*********
The phantom watched through the glass screen. Watched the patient slipping in and out of his own head, struggling and fighting every step of the way. A nurse gently tended to him, giving him a small dose of sedative, trying to prevent his brain from going into some kind of meltdown.
He looked so peaceful she thought.
But for his bloodstained sheets he could almost be sleeping, rather than fixed in this induced coma dreamstate.
Induced by us, she thought.
It is necessary, she thought.
He is vitally important to us. The information he carries could provide a quick and speedy end to this war.
She tried to reassure herself.
Her thoughts slowly rose to the surface like bubbles in a saucepan of boiling water. Bursting and filling her head for an instant before dissipating, only to be replaced by another thought, lazily making its way up through her subconscious waters before breaking the surface.
Argument and Counter-Argument.
Heart and Head.
Conscious and Subconscious.
Right and Wrong.
Good and Evil.
Lunge and Riposte.
Forwards and Backwards.
Past and Present.
She leant over the intercom, and signalled to the doctors it was time to try again.
**********
He pressed his hand gently to the cabin window as the shuttle slowly pounded its way up through the atmosphere. Below him, Cities, Fields, People, Civilisations, Lives, Countries, all swum into view as the shuttle went higher.
A magnificent portrait of a world arranged itself beneath his feet, the horrors occurring on its surface not visible at this height.
Jack wasn't looking.
In the glass of the window, a pair of green eyes stared back at him, a face frozen in a moment, jet black hair flowing as she moved.
She looked straight into his eyes.
He looked back. Tried to apologise without saying a word. He ran his gnarled fingers over the glass gently, pressing them against the cold. She looked at him, unmoving, unable, looking at him without judgement. Why wasn't she angry? Why didn't she judge him? He deserved to be judged, to be punished, he left her there. How could he do such a thing? They made him, they made me, he said. You could of saved her, they said. Why didn't you? they said. You've lost another one, they said. Another victim. Like all those people down there. All those people in this war. You've lost another one
He grabbed the shutter and pulled it down with all the rage and anguish of his godforsaken, bloody, crimson stained years. The plastic slammed down, removing her from vision. Crashing down, like before. Down in front of his eyes. Cutting her off like a cancerous tumour. Cut it out, save the hassle. Keep what you need they said.
"Would you like a drink sir?"
Startled, he turned to see a woman pushing an anti-grav trolley down the aisle.
Remnants of the civilian life, even on this last evacuation shuttle, full of battered and defeated soldiers, people kept turning in their own wheels. Keeping to their routines. A way to keep sane, keep doing what you know.
Keep serving drinks.
He almost laughed.
"I'll have a coffee please"
"Certainly sir"
He looked up. She turned and handed him the cup. He gasped, hand pressed carefully over his heart. Eyes widening. He would not show the tears. She looked down at him with her green eyes, her words increasing in speed, overlapping eachother like gentle waves.
"What is it sir?, Sir? are you alright? Should I call a doctor, I'll jus-"
"Its alright, I'm sorry."
He regained his composure, still looking away.
"You just, just reminded me of someone"
He looked up at her concerned face, experiencing seven years of a life in an instant. In those green eyes. Sheet lightning rippling over and over in his brain.
He took the coffee, thanked her politely, apologised, and leant back in his seat. The milk swirled and eddied in his cup like a miniature storm.
***********
The spiderweb over him hung immobile, silent as always, watching the dreams and ruptures occurring in the vessel below.
***********
The shuttle rose majestically through the atmosphere on trails of desperation and hope. Engines roaring as they propelled the small metal craft through the skies and beyond, like giant ethereal hands, lifting their passengers to heaven.
Below him, jack thought he could hear the sound of thunder
***********
A button pressed, the patient buckled and twisted as if caught in a mantrap, rearing upwards, head arched back, struggling against the rippling waves of lightning crackling through his cerebral cortex. Going in again.
"It would be easier if he didn't struggle," The doctor remarked
"He's struggling because that’s what he knows. He knows to fight, he knows we have him somehow, he knows to fight us," murmured the phantom, as always standing over the doctor's shoulder, watching with absolute precision.
"It's going to kill him eventually, if he keeps resisting us, even subconsciously resisting us"
The phantom said nothing
***********
He burst into the control room, blast doors parting accommodatingly for his entry. Klaxons wailed, the walls of consoles blinked and flashed like an obscure light show, the two pilots struggled with their various controls, holographic displays flashing past their eyes. Garbled noise poured out of the comm. system like water. On the central display, red signals flicked across the starmap like pieces on a gameboard. Chatter bounced off the walls like so many waves.
"Incoming squadron from fourpointsixpointnine... Distress signal broadcasting on all.... All things... All things... Take evasive action, head for.... We haven't a chance... Raise shields... Prepare for combat... prepare for boarding... listen to the thunder jack... listen...."
He shut his ears, tried to ignore the faeries screaming like banshees around his head.
"What's the situation?"
"We've been detected by orbital defence systems, we have incoming hostiles on intercept vectors, coming from here, here, here and here"
The young aide pointed to various clusters of red on the display, all moving in far too close.
Jack looked into his eyes, he was only a boy.
"Where's the carrier? Where's our pickup? We have to get to-"
The room tipped over around jack, he flew into the ceiling. Slamming down on cold, uniform steel. The boy next to him careered into a ventilation grate,
"We've been hit!"
Voice, he couldn't hear from where.
"Taking evasive action..."
Their voices were blurred, distant, he could feel blood from somewhere. His hair began to feel sticky with it,
"We have to get out of here, we need to make the rendezvous with the remaining forces at the Agaetis Moon..."
His own voice felt strangely detached, hovering over his own head.
One of the pilots lay slumped against his controls, helmet cracked. The faeries cackled and laughed at Jack.
The boy didn't move, head slammed against the far wall.
"We need to get out... we need to find them..."
"Incoming!"
“We have to… meet them, I have to… I have to go back…”
The walls began to stretch all out of proportion, slowly changing colour.
"Bracing for impact!"
Another voice, he tried to locate it, but it hurt to move his neck. He thought he saw the walls of screens shatter.
"Where is she jack?"
He could feel the blood trickling across his skin. The faeries inane cackling became a scream, a wail from beyond the grave, a roaring tide of water, water coloured with blood, pounding against his eardrums. The water became thunder, the thunder became lightning, the lightning became unstoppable white.
"lowering blast doors!"
Someone tried to move him, burning waves rolled across his spine, laughing as they left his nerves scorched and burning. He screamed.
The thick metal blast doors crashed down. He could hear the crash, see them crashing down, the cold steel mocking him in its inanimaticy. She was behind the door! He crawled towards her, calling out her name. She was there, it was so simple now, he was a fool! She was there, she had been there all along, no! He had been there all along, here in the hangar, she was vitally important, she had to be saved. He would save her, save her from the lightning. See? There! did you hear it? The thunder is getting closer, he had to save her, save you all! All of you! He would save you all, its only fitting, he thought, I am responsible, I am in the military, I have special privileges, death, death is a special privilege, I can cause death, I can prevent it as well! It's only fitting, Galactic Payback, Cosmic Karma, I will save you, all of you boys, all of you children, all of you women, All of you, lying dead in the mud from this war, I will save you, but first I will save her, come see, look! see her there, isn't she beautiful? standing through that steel door, look through, see her standing there, frozen in fear, but not for long, oh no, I will save her, I will pull her through, keep her safe from the thunder, I will not leave her again! Not in this hangar, oh no, I will save her, like all of you, from them. Because its my fault, its my- look, I'm crying now, the tears are streaming down my face, streaming like the blood on my neck, look at it there, on my hands, on my hands as in your bodies, we are all the same you and I, and this why I must save you all, it is my duty, my privilege, my special privilege, as someone of vital importance, I demand it, I must save you, save you for absolution... It's my fault, mine... I will pull you out of the mud, out of the thunder, away from the lighting, out of this storm, out of this storm, out, out, out... away... safe....
*********
The doctor watched as the machine's reached the climax of their dread song for the last time.
The phantom hovered at the foot of the bed.
"Tell high command... tell them..."
It, she, paused for a moment.
"Tell them they will find what they seek in the Agaetis system"
The phantom stepped into the light, allowing her jet black hair to shimmer and cascade down her back.
She looked at the patient. Took one last glance at Jack with her electric green eyes. Then she was gone, into the shadows.
Outside, thunder rolled.
It began to rain.
*********
Any comments, positive or negative welcome...
-blu
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Sparks
By bluevorlon
---------------------
There was little hope for him this time. The doctor drifted around the table, carefully examining his battered frame. The man slept on. Cables and valves hung over him: a giant synthetic spider web, whispering to him in mechanical hisses and clicks. The machines -their gangly limbs making up the web- watched on, ever vigilant, ever silent. The doctor murmured into a recorder, taking a reading here, pressing a button there. Subdued movements. He turned to the dark figure standing in the doorway.
'He's displaying quite extensive injuries… It doesn't look too good. Not in this- with this equipment'
'Poor soul' murmured the figure, a shape, a phantom. A half-person.
'Sorry?'
'Nothing'
'Shall we... I mean, do you, wish to continue?'
'I see no reason not to'
The doctor licked his parched lips. Unable to speak. Unwilling to speak. One, the other, neither, either. He scratched his head; looking down at the broken man before him, lying on the table like a slab of meat. Spider web above him, cold steel beneath him, machines clicked and whirred in perfect time.
He gently inserted a hypodermic into the patient's arm, pushing the plunger down, watching as the blue liquid inside roared and bubbled as the pressure suddenly dramatically changed, rushing down the syringe into the awaiting artery. Angry like a storm.
As the chemical entered the man's body the machines erupted into a chorus of chimes and beeps. He began rolling and struggling against his restraints, screaming without a voice.
*******
The man poured his meagre allowance of milk into the cup, watching as it gradually infused into the black liquid like a malevolent cancerous organism, clouding and discolouring the previously uniform dark into a moody chesnut. He stirred the mixture momentarily, observing the miniature storm before him, a whirlwind occurring quietly in his cup. He took a sip, allowing the burning hot liquid to spread through his weary body. A woman sat next to him, long dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, eyes closed, body exhausted. She took his hand in hers and sighed.
Far away the sky began to split as thunder intoned its greeting. Within the tired aircraft hangar everything shook momentarily, some of the man's coffee spilled over the edge of the cup, slowly trickling across the table.
"Jack" the woman began, "They're getting closer"
"I know" The man; Jack, replied.
"How much time do you think we have left?"
"Not long. A few hours perhaps"
He took another long sip.
"We should be out of here by then"
The woman looked up and sighed, gripping his hand,
"It's doesn't feel real. It's like a dream. How can they... how did they?... How could this-"
Her sentence crashed and spluttered to a halt, as she tried to find the required vocabulary to express her own fears.
They sat in silence.
She rested her head across his shoulder, he ran his scarred fingers through her hair absent mindedly.
"All things..." he murmured
"What?"
"Nothing"
Another biting spasm of pain, Jack slipped away, the woman beside him also. The hangar, the people, the ship, the storm, that world, all drifting away. Gurgling down the plughole, all colours mixing together to form a murky, muddy nondescript substance, undefinable or classifiable, just matter. An impossible haze, that ducked out of the light whenever he approached. Out of his grasp, away from his outstretched fingertips. He strained for them, tried to catch the colours, the moments, stop them washing away. But they felt like sand and poured and drifted across his skin, unmoving, irretrievable.
*******
The patient rolled and struggled against his restraints. Teeth gritted, fists so tightly clenched a trickle of blood emerged from his palms. Raging against the demons that didn't exist. He stretched out grasping. Clutching at air, hands waving frantically. Reaching the peak of his mental feedback. Then suddenly, he collapsed back onto the bed. Unmoving, still.
Blood dripped onto the floor.
The doctor peered at the patient over a pair of thin rimmed spectacles, a quizzical expression etched across his face. He turned to the machines, their cacophony subsiding now, returning to their quiet vigil. Reading their figures his brow furrowed.
The phantom murmured behind him.
"Try again... he can take it."
Another fifty thousand volt shock.
A world brought back sharply into focus.
********
Jack handed his security card to the awaiting guard on the door. It was all there, his name, rank, number, clearance, the stamp marking him worthy of 'special privileges’, his status of 'vital importance'
The guard opened the door for him.
‘Vital importance’, the only thing separating him from the millions outside this door were those two words.
He stepped through into a cavernous hangar bay, once home to thousands of commercial civilian passengers, now commandeered by the military in these dim, muddled times.
There were no windows, only a grubby skylight, it's pitiful illumination augmented by a series of harsh electric tubes running across the arched roof. The brilliant artificial light served only to accentuate the tiredness in everyone's eyes. No-one had escaped unscathed, even these few, the hundred or so people sat hunched at tables, even they had scars. Faded posters adorned the walls, long forgotten security notices, adverts for clothing companies, leisure conglomerates, civilian airlines, pictures of families, a parade of smiling and happy people: a facade revealed by their torn and battered state, ignored as they hang lifelessly from the dull hangar walls.
A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist, breaking Jack out of his momentary dream, he smiled.
"We made it Jack"
"Yep," and as an afterthought "finally."
He turned round and kissed the owner of those arms.
"I hate to say I told you so but..."
He grinned at the dark haired woman in front of him, she sighed in mock desperation
"I know I know... You were right, as always, they would find a way to get you out of here"
"Both of us" he reminded her
"True"
She kissed him again, a release of anxiety and an expression of relief.
"I'm gonna go get coffee, you want some?"
"No thanks"
"Ok, I'll be right back"
She smiled, flashing those brilliant green eyes of hers, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he watched, momentarily entranced.
"I'll go get us a seat" she replied
He headed over to a dilapidated looking vending machine, fishing in his jacket for loose change.
Then it all vanished... a slow fade out, the hangar slowly tearing itself into its constituent components, colours diverging, fading, retreating before an advancing army of thought and recollection. Time slowed to treacle, the omnipresent background chatter flowing out of audible range and into unending white noise. Interference flowed round him like a swarm of devious fairies, snowing over and smothering him, ever increasing in volume and intensity until it became near unbearable, he fell to his knees and screamed. Screamed for his memory to return, screamed for her to return. As he opened his mouth they swarmed in, his central nervous system felt as if it was on fire as he passed out.
*********
"We still aren't getting the information we require" the phantom murmured, skulking in the control booth. "He's going in too early"
"It's all a question of resonance" the doctor replied. "What his mind chooses to recall, what particular moments stand out"
They watched, on a grainy flickering monitor, Jack kissing his wife. Strange voyeurs to an event already taken place.
"We'll need to try again"
"I'm not sure how much more of this he can take"
On the monitor Jack's world began to fade. He screamed.
"He can take it" the phantom whispered.
Jacks world began again, run on loop. Recorded, catalogued and stored for further reference.
"What he knows is of vital importance to us..."
"We can try again in a few hours" The doctor replied.
"Good"
The phantom turned and left silently. The doctor pushed a button on his console, Jack and his wife dutifully appeared in the flickering green of the monitor. He watched on.
*********
He stirred the milk into the styrofoam cup, looking out the skylight he thought he could faintly hear the sound of thunder.
'Special Privileges' he thought.
The machines began to chorus again
*********
"What about giving him a stronger dose?"
"I doubt it would have any significant effect. Any significant beneficial effect anyway. There's so much of the drug still in his system, there's such a large residual trace... his brain might go into synaptic overload."
"So we have to keep trying?"
"For now, it appears that way"
The phantom nodded, a gesture of resignation and immovability.
"Do so"
*********
Jack felt himself being pushed along by the crowd, pushed back by a herd of desperate flailing limbs. He thought he could hear the thunder again, much closer this time, almost inside the building.
He struggled and raged, every sinew in his body straining as he pushed against the tide.
"Wait, I have to go back!"
Jack's brain was acting on instinct, the shoal of rushing and flickering men and women, the screams and cries, the acrid smell of the lightning, the thunder rippling in his ears. The barrage of sensory data swept over him as his brain shut off, focusing on the one brightest light amidst an infinite field of thoughts.
"Get off me! I-"
He elbowed a ragged man into the wall as he stormed back down the corridor. His feet felt like lead, his throat dry, every muscle in his body aching with ten times its usual weight. He collided into a bulky security guard, decked out in full combat gear, towering over him like some sort of machine.
"We have to, I have to... She's just..."
Trying to say a hundred things at once Jack's brain spat out fragments.
"Sorry sir, We're leaving now. The shuttle's prepping for emergency dust off"
Another guard chimed.
"You have to come with us"
The second guard hit a button and the checkpoint's blast door came crashing down. A Giant metal shutter closing off the corridor with a deafening crash of finality. Crashing down before him.
Jack's vision exploded. His mind began to freewheel in recollection.
The shutter began to move, a squeak as the magnetic locks gave way.
He felt an arm connect with his stomach, knocking him back. He stumbled and lost his footing, she turned and looked at him. Time solidified; becoming a pool of mud he had to wade through to reach any kind of resolution. He fell through the security door; as the shutter began to come down her eyes widened, her jet black hair flowing as she turned her head. She pierced him with those shimmering green eyes, opened her mouth to speak. The shutter crashed down between them. Crashing down. A wall of steel and cold. Crashing down before him. The noise echoing in his ears, flowing through his cranium, a repetitive statacco laugh of steel, jackhammering into his wounded brain again and again and again, again, again. Crash. He threw himself at the wall, screaming her name. He could hear the thunder near him, back in the hangar, on the other side. He hurled his arm forwards, reaching out, trying to put his fist through the door, vaguely feeling something break as his hand impacted into the silent barrier ineffectually.
"SIR!"
The cold tone of the guard's voice cut through the warm and hazy air of memory. A wound still fresh.
"Just grab him."
"We're sorry to have to do this sir"
Two armoured hands roughly gripped his battered shoulders, pulling him back towards the shuttle and safety.
********
A house. Pretty. A life in the suburbs. Jack lay on the grass, and stared at the clouds. A woman sat next to him, allowing her jet black hair to dry in the sunlight. A lazy afternoon.
'Vital Importance'
A woman sat next to him, boxes lay outside the front door. A life in the suburbs. A morning promising a new start. Jack stared at the house. It was a pretty house, he thought. A pretty little house.
'Special Privileges'
Jack stood next to that house. A woman came and sat next to him, ashen faced, her jet black hair swaying slightly in the breeze. Boxes lay outside the front door. They were carried out of the house and onto the awaiting transport. Jack watched, eyes like stones.
'We're bringing you to a safe location Jack. We have reason to believe the enemy are planning something... something to do with you Jack. This is for your safety Jack, we can't let you fall into their hands Jack. You're of Vital Importance to us Jack.
Vital. He rolled the word around in his mouth. Trying it out for size on his tongue. He was vital. Vitally Important.
And now he was leaving.
*********
The phantom watched through the glass screen. Watched the patient slipping in and out of his own head, struggling and fighting every step of the way. A nurse gently tended to him, giving him a small dose of sedative, trying to prevent his brain from going into some kind of meltdown.
He looked so peaceful she thought.
But for his bloodstained sheets he could almost be sleeping, rather than fixed in this induced coma dreamstate.
Induced by us, she thought.
It is necessary, she thought.
He is vitally important to us. The information he carries could provide a quick and speedy end to this war.
She tried to reassure herself.
Her thoughts slowly rose to the surface like bubbles in a saucepan of boiling water. Bursting and filling her head for an instant before dissipating, only to be replaced by another thought, lazily making its way up through her subconscious waters before breaking the surface.
Argument and Counter-Argument.
Heart and Head.
Conscious and Subconscious.
Right and Wrong.
Good and Evil.
Lunge and Riposte.
Forwards and Backwards.
Past and Present.
She leant over the intercom, and signalled to the doctors it was time to try again.
**********
He pressed his hand gently to the cabin window as the shuttle slowly pounded its way up through the atmosphere. Below him, Cities, Fields, People, Civilisations, Lives, Countries, all swum into view as the shuttle went higher.
A magnificent portrait of a world arranged itself beneath his feet, the horrors occurring on its surface not visible at this height.
Jack wasn't looking.
In the glass of the window, a pair of green eyes stared back at him, a face frozen in a moment, jet black hair flowing as she moved.
She looked straight into his eyes.
He looked back. Tried to apologise without saying a word. He ran his gnarled fingers over the glass gently, pressing them against the cold. She looked at him, unmoving, unable, looking at him without judgement. Why wasn't she angry? Why didn't she judge him? He deserved to be judged, to be punished, he left her there. How could he do such a thing? They made him, they made me, he said. You could of saved her, they said. Why didn't you? they said. You've lost another one, they said. Another victim. Like all those people down there. All those people in this war. You've lost another one
He grabbed the shutter and pulled it down with all the rage and anguish of his godforsaken, bloody, crimson stained years. The plastic slammed down, removing her from vision. Crashing down, like before. Down in front of his eyes. Cutting her off like a cancerous tumour. Cut it out, save the hassle. Keep what you need they said.
"Would you like a drink sir?"
Startled, he turned to see a woman pushing an anti-grav trolley down the aisle.
Remnants of the civilian life, even on this last evacuation shuttle, full of battered and defeated soldiers, people kept turning in their own wheels. Keeping to their routines. A way to keep sane, keep doing what you know.
Keep serving drinks.
He almost laughed.
"I'll have a coffee please"
"Certainly sir"
He looked up. She turned and handed him the cup. He gasped, hand pressed carefully over his heart. Eyes widening. He would not show the tears. She looked down at him with her green eyes, her words increasing in speed, overlapping eachother like gentle waves.
"What is it sir?, Sir? are you alright? Should I call a doctor, I'll jus-"
"Its alright, I'm sorry."
He regained his composure, still looking away.
"You just, just reminded me of someone"
He looked up at her concerned face, experiencing seven years of a life in an instant. In those green eyes. Sheet lightning rippling over and over in his brain.
He took the coffee, thanked her politely, apologised, and leant back in his seat. The milk swirled and eddied in his cup like a miniature storm.
***********
The spiderweb over him hung immobile, silent as always, watching the dreams and ruptures occurring in the vessel below.
***********
The shuttle rose majestically through the atmosphere on trails of desperation and hope. Engines roaring as they propelled the small metal craft through the skies and beyond, like giant ethereal hands, lifting their passengers to heaven.
Below him, jack thought he could hear the sound of thunder
***********
A button pressed, the patient buckled and twisted as if caught in a mantrap, rearing upwards, head arched back, struggling against the rippling waves of lightning crackling through his cerebral cortex. Going in again.
"It would be easier if he didn't struggle," The doctor remarked
"He's struggling because that’s what he knows. He knows to fight, he knows we have him somehow, he knows to fight us," murmured the phantom, as always standing over the doctor's shoulder, watching with absolute precision.
"It's going to kill him eventually, if he keeps resisting us, even subconsciously resisting us"
The phantom said nothing
***********
He burst into the control room, blast doors parting accommodatingly for his entry. Klaxons wailed, the walls of consoles blinked and flashed like an obscure light show, the two pilots struggled with their various controls, holographic displays flashing past their eyes. Garbled noise poured out of the comm. system like water. On the central display, red signals flicked across the starmap like pieces on a gameboard. Chatter bounced off the walls like so many waves.
"Incoming squadron from fourpointsixpointnine... Distress signal broadcasting on all.... All things... All things... Take evasive action, head for.... We haven't a chance... Raise shields... Prepare for combat... prepare for boarding... listen to the thunder jack... listen...."
He shut his ears, tried to ignore the faeries screaming like banshees around his head.
"What's the situation?"
"We've been detected by orbital defence systems, we have incoming hostiles on intercept vectors, coming from here, here, here and here"
The young aide pointed to various clusters of red on the display, all moving in far too close.
Jack looked into his eyes, he was only a boy.
"Where's the carrier? Where's our pickup? We have to get to-"
The room tipped over around jack, he flew into the ceiling. Slamming down on cold, uniform steel. The boy next to him careered into a ventilation grate,
"We've been hit!"
Voice, he couldn't hear from where.
"Taking evasive action..."
Their voices were blurred, distant, he could feel blood from somewhere. His hair began to feel sticky with it,
"We have to get out of here, we need to make the rendezvous with the remaining forces at the Agaetis Moon..."
His own voice felt strangely detached, hovering over his own head.
One of the pilots lay slumped against his controls, helmet cracked. The faeries cackled and laughed at Jack.
The boy didn't move, head slammed against the far wall.
"We need to get out... we need to find them..."
"Incoming!"
“We have to… meet them, I have to… I have to go back…”
The walls began to stretch all out of proportion, slowly changing colour.
"Bracing for impact!"
Another voice, he tried to locate it, but it hurt to move his neck. He thought he saw the walls of screens shatter.
"Where is she jack?"
He could feel the blood trickling across his skin. The faeries inane cackling became a scream, a wail from beyond the grave, a roaring tide of water, water coloured with blood, pounding against his eardrums. The water became thunder, the thunder became lightning, the lightning became unstoppable white.
"lowering blast doors!"
Someone tried to move him, burning waves rolled across his spine, laughing as they left his nerves scorched and burning. He screamed.
The thick metal blast doors crashed down. He could hear the crash, see them crashing down, the cold steel mocking him in its inanimaticy. She was behind the door! He crawled towards her, calling out her name. She was there, it was so simple now, he was a fool! She was there, she had been there all along, no! He had been there all along, here in the hangar, she was vitally important, she had to be saved. He would save her, save her from the lightning. See? There! did you hear it? The thunder is getting closer, he had to save her, save you all! All of you! He would save you all, its only fitting, he thought, I am responsible, I am in the military, I have special privileges, death, death is a special privilege, I can cause death, I can prevent it as well! It's only fitting, Galactic Payback, Cosmic Karma, I will save you, all of you boys, all of you children, all of you women, All of you, lying dead in the mud from this war, I will save you, but first I will save her, come see, look! see her there, isn't she beautiful? standing through that steel door, look through, see her standing there, frozen in fear, but not for long, oh no, I will save her, I will pull her through, keep her safe from the thunder, I will not leave her again! Not in this hangar, oh no, I will save her, like all of you, from them. Because its my fault, its my- look, I'm crying now, the tears are streaming down my face, streaming like the blood on my neck, look at it there, on my hands, on my hands as in your bodies, we are all the same you and I, and this why I must save you all, it is my duty, my privilege, my special privilege, as someone of vital importance, I demand it, I must save you, save you for absolution... It's my fault, mine... I will pull you out of the mud, out of the thunder, away from the lighting, out of this storm, out of this storm, out, out, out... away... safe....
*********
The doctor watched as the machine's reached the climax of their dread song for the last time.
The phantom hovered at the foot of the bed.
"Tell high command... tell them..."
It, she, paused for a moment.
"Tell them they will find what they seek in the Agaetis system"
The phantom stepped into the light, allowing her jet black hair to shimmer and cascade down her back.
She looked at the patient. Took one last glance at Jack with her electric green eyes. Then she was gone, into the shadows.
Outside, thunder rolled.
It began to rain.
*********