Context by Deborah Walsh

[Reviews - 0]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer

- Text Size +

Context (6/20)
by Deb Walsh

"This isn't good for Bess," Morgan told them soberly.

"This sort of dream - why would the Terrians show her something so dreadful?"

"Perhaps because it could happen," Julia answered.

"Alonzo thinks the Terrians don't recognize time the way we do - not past, present, future. This may be only one possible future, the result of -"

"Devon dying," Danziger interjected. "Like in my dream."

Julia swivelled around to look up at Danziger. "You think ... cause and effect?"

"Why not? If Devon didn't make it, if she weren't there to greet the colonists and convince them that the Terrians really could cure the children, if we had no chance that she'd ever be there ... what _would_ happen?"

"Every group has dominant personalities," Julia mused.

"The colonists were selected because their children were ill, not because of any personality or compatibility profiling. It could be that within the group of colonists coming to G889, there are some who would refuse the help offered and splinter into separate factions. There may also be more Council operatives, assigned to disrupt or even destroy the colony."

"Which only points up our need for a strong leadership, a united front, when they arrive," Morgan suggested.

"Like it or not, we need a solid political structure."

"And that's where you can make your greatest contribution, is that it, Morgan?" Danziger shot back.

Morgan frowned, glancing down at Bess, who tightened her hold on his hand. "I have experience in the field, yes. We can't be naive about this, John - to hold the colony together, we're going to have to have a system they can fit into."

"We'll have time to determine that on the way to New Pacifica. The old rules don't apply here, Morgan - there are new players in the game," Danziger reminded him forcefully.

"The Terrians," Bess whispered.

"That's right," Julia agreed. "Alonzo said the Terrians are trying to understand us. In John's dream, Devon said the same thing. I don't think we should overreact to this possibility - I think we should remain calm and see what else the Terrians tell us."

"You think there'll be more dreams?" Morgan asked worriedly, casting anxious looks at his wife.

"I think it's likely each one of us can expect to find ourselves on the dreamplane. Think about it this way," she explained, standing up from her seat and pacing around the tent. "There is a great deal at stake here - not just our continued survival, or the colonists' survival, or even Devon's survival - it's the survival of the planet.

"The penal colonists have been few in number, and really haven't presented any serious threat to the Terrians, or the ecosystem. In the years they've been here, population growth has been minimal - with deaths due to illness, weather and, well, in-fighting, it may even be negative. Whalen and Dell Curry's group were reduced to one, their son. Mary's group was also eliminated and the Terrians adopted her. We don't know how many other prisoners arrived with Gaal, but only he survived. If you think of G889 as an organic system, these individuals have been a minor irritant. But now we're planning to inject a large dosage in the form of the colony. The planet has to either assimilate us or reject us. I think the Terrians are trying to help the planet assimilate us."

"But what about what Elizabeth said - about the planet rejecting us?" Bess inquired plaintively.

"It may be she and Bennett never made real contact with the Terrians. Or never thought it was important enough to make that contact. We might never have done that if it hadn't been for what they did for Uly. I think if we're to be successful here as a species, we need to make peace with them, and find our niche in the ecosystem."

"That's a pretty big logical leap, Doc," Danziger observed.

"Even Devon has said that, John. And it does seem to fit what Alonzo said, and what Devon told you in your dream. I know these dreams are upsetting, but they're the only way we can communicate with the Terrians."

Julia paused, and looked thoughtfully at Bess. "I think you should rest this morning. Obviously we're not setting out again today - I think we should plan to stay here for a few days and see how the dreams play out. We can use the time to restock our food supplies."

"If these dreams keep up, we won't be in any shape to travel," Danziger put in wearily.

"There's that, too. But Alonzo said that this area is rich in Morganite - that will help facilitate the dreaming. And the dreaming will help us communicate and reach an understanding. I hope."

"Okay," Danziger agreed, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Get some rest, Bess. But you, Morgan, can help with foraging. We can't restock if we don't know what's out there."

"Why me?" Morgan started to protest, but Bess reached up with her free hand and soothed him. "All right," he consented grudgingly.

"Don't worry, Morgan, you won't be alone. Everyone who can will be out there with you," Julia assured him.

"I'm gonna go check on the TransRover - I don't like the way it sounded yesterday," Danziger announced and left the tent.

"Y'gotta worry about a man who thinks so much about vehicles," Morgan muttered to himself. "When we get to New Pacifica, we're going to have to find him something else to do."

Julia and Bess turned slowly to look at Morgan, their expressions dumbstruck. Julia shook her head and looked back at Bess. "Get some rest, Bess," Julia told her, and hurried after him.

"You sure you don't need me, honey?" Morgan offered sweetly after she'd gone.

"I'm sure, Morgan - go on," Bess answered doubtfully, still eyeing her husband as though she wondered what his problem was, as well.

***

Alonzo scratched his stomach sleepily as he shuffled into the mess tent. Danziger looked up from where he was fiddling with the device Morgan had programmed to monitor the ship and got up. He quickly poured a cup of coffee for Alonzo and shoved it into his hands.

"You look like hell," Danziger observed.

"Feel like it," Alonzo agreed, draining the coffee. He held the cup out for a refill. "Where is everybody?"

"Foraging. Bringing samples to Julia in the med-tent.

Lemme guess - you spent the night in dreamland," Danziger said, pouring the requested coffee.

Alonzo nodded slowly, carefully as he picked his way to one of the chairs set up around the table. He sat down gingerly, and sighed wearily. "How's Bess?"

Danziger glanced at Alonzo as he joined him at the table. "How'd you know?"

Solace shrugged. "I listened in on her dream."

"How come hers and not mine?"

Alonzo was silent, staring into the depths of his coffee.

"'Lonz?"

"I saw your dream, too, John," Alonzo admitted quietly, not raising his head. "I'm sorry - I had no control over it. It was strange - I could see it, but I couldn't enter it. More like a vidcast than VR.

Almost like the Terrians don't want me interfering."

Danziger looked at him in shock for a long moment, then turned his attention back to his own coffee. "Don't tell Morgan - he'll call it 'Morganvision' and plan to market it to the colony," Danziger muttered.

"What?"

"Dream voyeurism," John replied sourly.

"I don't think the Terrians understand the concept of privacy," Alonzo suggested.

"Well, if they show you, I guess that's okay. But if they start broadcasting to everyone ... I'm takin' the pledge."

"The pledge?"

"I'll swear off sleep until we get out of this valley."

"Could be worse. Could be _my_ dreams they broadcast."

"Why's that worse?"

"Julia'd kill me," Alonzo said with a grin. He looked at the device by Danziger's hand. "What's that?"

"Morgan rigged it to monitor the ship."

"And Devon?"

"According to this, she's okay. Stable. Vitals are still registering no change."

"Good."

They fell into a companionable silence as Danziger called up the entry sequence for Devon's cryo-capsule.

"'Lonz?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why me?"

"Why you, what?"

"Why'd the diggers pick me to dream with?"

"Why d'you think, John?" Alonzo asked impishly.

Danziger grimaced. "Funny, Flyboy."

"Call 'em as I see 'em, Greaseball."

Studying the sequence, Danziger committed it to memory.

"I'll be ready for 'em next time."

"Next time? John, you can't show any aggression toward the Terrians -"

"Who's talkin' aggression? Look, 'Lonz, I know what's at stake here. I'm just planning ahead."

"For what?"

Danziger hefted the receiver. "Next time, I'm gettin' Adair out of that thing so she can talk to the Terrians direct. Morgan changed the codes to protect her from anyone breaking in. Now I know 'em, too."

***

Quickly checking over the ground to make sure she'd eradicated any sign of her occupation, Mary gathered up her few belongings and moved silently through the brush toward a cave she'd located the evening before. It didn't have the scent of a Grendler cave, and hopefully wouldn't attract attention. The members of Eden Advance were fanning out from camp, in groups of twos and threes, bags slung over their shoulders. She'd watched this before, and knew they were off in search of food.

As she stepped from the brilliant sunlight to the cool dimness of the cave, she fought down a bout of homesickness. She hadn't had the chance to investigate the cave fully the night before, but as she moved deeper into the rocky corridor, she knew Terrians had lived there sometime in the not so distant past. The characteristic riblike structure of the tunnels, the depressions in the walls ... all felt achingly familiar. Outcasts or tribe, it made no difference; she drank in the musky scent of Terrian occupation with pleasure.

At the next juncture, she heard the sound of trickling liquid, and moved forward cautiously. All too often, what looked like water was actually acid, and could kill with a few drops. Stepping into the next chamber, she found the cavern illuminated with an orange glow, and she reached out to touch the sunstones that made up so much of the Terrian communication plane. It felt warm and welcoming beneath her questing fingers, not burning as the others had complained. She could feel the heartbeat of the planet within the pulsating stone.

Closing her eyes, she tried reaching out onto the dreamplane, felt the distant tingle of it on her consciousness, but even with the sunstones, what the Eden Advance crew called "Morganite," she couldn't penetrate the dreamplane on her own.

Sighing, she drew her hand away and walked over to the wetness running down the wall. Touching it tentatively with one fingertip, she was relieved to discover it was water. She had food, she had a supply of fresh water, and she was surrounded by the comforting glow of the sunstones. For the first time in months, she felt at peace.

***

Morgan was growing bored. He was supposed to be helping with the search for edible plants, but so far, nearly everything had turned up edible. Julia had been downright excited at what he and the others had brought back to the camp earlier. Further search on his part seemed redundant. They'd managed to find themselves a natural grocer here, one of the few good things to happen to them since arriving on this godforsaken planet.

Bess was still resting in their tent, and by the time he'd checked on her, her color had returned to normal, and she'd been sleeping peacefully. He wasn't happy about the Terrians messing with their dreams, but until Danziger or Julia ruled it a lost cause, they'd have to endure it. But he needed a break, especially if he was going to have to face one of those dreams. Besides, thanks to the abundance of food in this valley, lunch had actually been a bit heavy, and he was feeling a little drowsy.

Rationalizing that his efforts at food gathering wouldn't make any difference one way or another, he settled comfortably on a fallen log, glanced around to make sure no one else was in sight, and pulled out his VR gear.

He hadn't used the gear since that episode with Bennett, before they'd found the ship. He'd simply slipped away from camp and settled on a hillside to enjoy his favorite VR program, and this guy in a white suit playing a saxophone had stepped right into the program with a deal he simply couldn't refuse. Release Bennett from cold sleep, and Bennett could cure the plague that was killing them all.

Eben had already died, and Bess had just fallen ill with the disease. They were all dying. Morgan hadn't seen any choice. Life without Bess, on or off this planet, was simply something he couldn't - no, wouldn't - contemplate. He hadn't imagined the box of demons he'd unleash by following those simple instructions.

He still didn't know how a man in cold sleep could have penetrated into VR, especially a man who later had no memory of it. Bennett hadn't acknowledged his role in guiding Morgan to the cold sleep controls, nor providing Morgan with the activation sequences. The image of Danziger's face when he'd activated the sleep capsules still made him cringe, but not as much as that of Danziger's face when they'd placed Devon back in the capsule. In a funny way, it made Morgan feel a little closer to Danziger, to realize that he could feel that way about someone. That Danziger could feel about Devon the way he felt about Bess. The knowledge made Danziger seem more human somehow.

He fitted the gear on his head, adjusting the earpiece until it felt just right, and then slid the eyepiece over his eye with a sigh. The woodland grayed out around him, going from color to monochrome, like in an ancient vidcast. An elaborate drumset materialized in front of him, the sticks familiar and welcome in his hands. He closed his eyes and started to strum out a rhythm on the skins, his body rocking to the beat.

He'd been playing for several minutes, really getting into it, when he heard a female voice chastise him.

"So this is what you do when you should be working, is it, Morgan? Danziger wouldn't be pleased."

He opened his eyes, his mouth already forming a protest when it fell open in frank surprise. The voice had emanated from Devon Adair, clad in a slinky white satin number that would have been the rage two centuries earlier. She was draped over a piano that had come out of nowhere, and she was shaking a finger at him slowly, as if in time with a metronome.

"Devon?" he squeaked. "How can you be here?"

She shrugged, a simple act that started off a cascade effect - first her spaghetti strap slithered off her shoulder, then the satin of her dress rippled invitingly, finally settling into body-hugging drapes.

Morgan had to forcibly remind himself that he was married to Bess, life contract, and that this Devon Adair was simply a VR image.

"Are you telling me that cold sleep and VR are linked?" Morgan ventured, putting down his drumsticks. "That's a phenomenon that's never been recorded, you know. It could open up whole new business opportunities -"

"Do what you want with the idea," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "I didn't come here to discuss the expansion of the Martin Enterprises, Morgan. I came here to ask you to reestablish the ship's link with EVE."

Morgan frowned and shook his head. "Why?"

"Because EVE is the only one capable of curing me.

Without the link to EVE, I'll die, even in cold sleep."

"But you got sicker after EVE's virus was purged," Morgan pointed out reasonably. "Curing the virus had no effect on you. Why would linking the ship back to EVE cure you?"

"Because EVE has resources even Bennett wasn't aware of," she told him, sliding gracefully down from the piano. "Or Elizabeth. In the 50 years since they went into cold sleep, EVE has been expanding her capabilities exponentially. She has the capability to cure me, Morgan. And to prevent anyone else from getting sick like me."

"What about what Elizabeth said? What about the planet rejecting us? Won't EVE's interference only help that come true? I mean, Julia and Alonzo are exploring ways to cure you through the Terrians. Yale thinks you need to be more strongly linked to the planet, not the computer -"

"Yale is wrong," Devon cut him off curtly.

"Completely, fatally wrong. His mistake will cost my life and the lives of thousands of others. Yours, Uly's, Bess's. All those Syndrome families, Morgan - they're walking into a death trap. EVE and only EVE can save us all."

"How do you know this, Devon?" Morgan asked. He had a strange prickling at the back of his spine, the sort of feeling that warned him of something not quite right.

This didn't sound like Devon's point of view.

"Before you severed the ship's link with EVE, I was in communication with her."

"How? We didn't have an uplink in progress, we didn't make any connections into your brain - there wasn't time, and there was no reason."

She shrugged, smiling meaningfully.

"Are you saying EVE is telepathic?" The smile grew, and Morgan felt his hands grow cold. It was a smile that frightened him. "Then what does she need a link for, Devon?"

"She can communicate with me, but she can't affect any changes without the link."

"She could do a lot more than that with the link open, Devon," Morgan reminded.

"What are you afraid of, Morgan? EVE isn't the enemy."

Morgan had been growing increasingly suspicious through the conversation, but that final statement sent off warning klaxons so loud he was sure she could hear them.

"I'll have to clear it with Danziger, Devon," he replied flatly. "After the way things turned out with Bennett, I don't want the responsibility on my own -"

"No, you don't have to clear it with Danziger, Morgan.

John's just a drone - you're the one who worked himself up to a Level 4. And I'm in command of this mission.

A command decision like this can't be left in the hands of a - Morgan, what's wrong?" "Devon" asked suddenly, her eyes narrowing.

"N-nothing," he stammered, eager now to escape this nightmare. This was _not_ Devon Adair. He was beginning to understand now just what was going on, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Then you'll do as I ask, Morgan?" she inquired sweetly.

"I'll have to think about it. I'm not quite sure how to reestablish the link, and you know what Danziger's temper can be like if someone makes off with one of his precious vehicles."

"I can show you how to reestablish the link, Morgan.

And you don't have to worry about Danziger - I can keep him under control."

"Okay, Devon, let me think about it, plan, okay? How can I reach you again?"

"Just come back into VR, Morgan. This is the only way I can contact you - and Morgan?"

"Yes, Devon?"

"I'm counting on you."

With that, she stepped out of the program in a white nimbus, leaving Morgan to stare wide-eyed at the drumsticks in his hands. "Oh boy," he muttered to himself, dropped the sticks, and quickly pulled the eyepiece away, ending the VR program.

You must login (register) to review.