Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny

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Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny Page 6

by Tony Bertauski


  That’s me. End of story. My visions weren’t wrong.

  So does Pike escape?

  I waved the image away just as Chute placed the rose on the enormous charred stump. I was standing in darkness again, hands clamped behind my back, no more at ease than I was ten minutes earlier. And Pike still chattering.

  “See Chute.”

  Chute’s bed materialized in front of me. It was a live feed from her bedroom. She let me tap into her home’s security months ago. We started to project images back and forth like I did when I met my mother, but it was just too impermanent. We didn’t use it much anymore because we decided if we were going to talk, it had to be in person. But sometimes, I would call it up just so I could watch her sleep.

  Her head lay softly on the pillow, eyes shut. Her lower lip fluttered with each exhale. Sometimes I’d watch her long enough to hear her sleep talk, but there were never words, just moaning and turning.

  I sat on the floor, wishing I could stroke her hair. All I could do was watch. It was better than nothing. At least I knew she was safe. I recalled the vision of her attacking me, more impossible than Pike escaping, even in the most bizarre alternate reality. She wasn’t capable of that, not with me. Not with anyone.

  So maybe my visions were going off the rails after all.

  “Your visitation rights with Pike have been revoked.” Spindle was standing by my desk, his red eyelight glowing in the dark. “The Commander has put a moratorium on your contact with him until further notice.”

  A lock of hair fell over Chute’s face and was puffing out with each breath. I wanted to move it, all too aware Spindle was patiently waiting for me. I stood and turned my back, my steps shuffling a bit. Fatigue filled me like sand. I felt so heavy.

  “I believe it would be prudent for you to get some rest, Master Socket.”

  I was nodding. He was right. I wanted to tell him I was heading to my bedroom, but stopped in front of Pike, mesmerized by his repeated movements.

  “Why are you watching him?” Spindle asked. “He should not be of interest.”

  I was still nodding like I was stuck in a trance, transfixed by Pike’s suffering. I could feel Spindle’s eyelight on me. Finally, I muttered, “Because I don’t if I can trust my visions.”

  “Are you referring to Pike as a free man?”

  Pike jerked in his chair like he heard his name. His head rolled around and settled. “There’s that,” I said. I told him about the blackouts and the intensity of the visions that were nonsensical and unsettling.

  “You have not reported these visions, Master Socket. The Commander will be displeased.”

  Pike was back into his moaning rhythm again.

  “I’ll report them,” I said. “It’s just… these visions are different. They keep drawing me back to him.” I gestured to Pike. “Somehow, he knows I’m having them. Like he knows what they mean.”

  “That is impossible. He has no means of contact outside his confinement, and that is precisely why the Commander forbids you further contact.”

  “He knows something, Spindle.” I looked directly at his eyelight. “I can feel it.”

  “Would you like me to schedule an appointment with the minder psychologist? Perhaps he can unblock subconscious thoughts that will allow you some understanding of your situation.”

  I looked across the room. Chute rolled over and settled back into sleep. Maybe he was right, I should get things checked out. Maybe someone could help me get some clarity. Or maybe, for once, my future was cloudy. I’d known about things that were about to happen for too long and now it was bothering me that I didn’t. Maybe it would be good to be in the present moment without knowing the future.

  I shook my head. Spindle’s eyelight brightened. He waited for me to respond. I called for the room to kill the projections. Chute and Pike’s images faded out and the walls began glowing to keep us out of the dark.

  “Perhaps we should begin a review of your wormhole travel.” Spindle took a step. “Your trip is in two days and you still have to complete the orientation.”

  “Tomorrow. Right now I need to sit.”

  “If I may suggest—”

  I held up my hand. “Thank you, Spindle. But we can go over this later.”

  “Very well.”

  The office transformed into the darkened forest, a live feed from the middle of the Preserve. The floor sprouted the green turf of the tagghet field with trees all around. I went to a meditation cushion nestled in the lush grass. The sky was dark, but sunrise wasn’t far off.

  “Spindle.” He stopped before exiting. “Send the kids up here when it’s time for them to rise. We’ll sit in my office this morning.”

  He nodded and left. I folded my legs and straightened my back, taking a deep breath. The present moment felt so fragile. I didn’t like that, but being present had little to do with how I felt.

  Lost in Space

  I stepped out of the shower room and pressed my face into a towel. It’d been over fifty hours. Still no sleep. I was feeling it in my face, but my eyes refused to shut. The exhaustion wore on me like a suit of armor. I wasn’t fighting it anymore; I just let the heaviness be there. Still, no sleep.

  I’d finished a long game of tagghet with the kids earlier that day, told them about Chute’s visit when I returned. Playing tagghet with me and Spindle was one thing, but testing their skills against one of the best high school players would let them know where they were. The boys weren’t half as excited as the girls until I showed them an image of her. She was talented and hot.

  I got dressed and sat on the bench, leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Maybe I could catch some sleep, but when I took the leaper to my office, it was filled with the electric blue lines of the wormhole network. Miniature galaxies were suspended throughout the web.

  “This can wait no longer, Master Socket.” Spindle was standing next to my desk. His tone was stern. His eyelight intensely glowing, lighting the surface of my desk like it was on fire. “Your launch is scheduled twenty hours from this moment. It is critical that you understand your journey.”

  He said it like he meant more than just the trip.

  I stepped through a disc-shaped galaxy and put my hands up like the web had snagged me. “You caught me.”

  “If you kindly step next to me, I can begin.”

  “I’m joking, Spindle. Come on, you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning?”

  “I do not sleep, Master Socket.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t reply, simply waited until I stepped through the dazzling blue lines criss-crossing my path. I finished putting on my shirt. “You have my undivided attention.”

  “Thank you.”

  So Spindle started off with the history of wormhole development, how the Paladin Nation began space exploration before the Wright brothers were even born. It was information I already knew, but I wasn’t about to interrupt. That eyelight was as bright as I’d ever seen it.

  Natural wormholes existed in space. In fact, most planets were connected to one and once the Paladins learned to access the one flowing through Earth, they had access to the universal wormhole web. Paladins developed special equipment to travel through them and began mapping the universe. My office was filled with every known avenue that existed. If a traveler was skilled enough, he could jump from one galaxy to the next. Most Paladin space travelers never returned, spending their lives somewhere in the galaxy, jumping planet to planet, mapping and sending back their data as they went.

  “Your ship will be programmed to take you to your destination,” Spindle said. “But it is critical that you make a psychic connection with your ship for accurate projection. You will experience an instantaneous relocation to your destination. It is quite unpleasant.”

  “I know what a wormhole feels like.”

  “Traveling from the Garrison to Charleston is not the same as traversing the universe!” His words were sharp. “If you lose a psychic connection with the ship, you
could lose your way, Master Socket. One errant thought and you could be lost in space.”

  His eyelight was reaching laser beam intensity. I nodded slowly.

  “You need to be rested before you depart. You must be able to focus.”

  “Noted. I’ll knock out a nap as soon as we’re done.”

  His eyelight relaxed, dimming down to a subtle glow. He appeared to tower over me, examining my true intentions. Finally, he stepped into the web of wormholes, tracing one particular line with his finger that sparkled as he followed it into a massive tangle of intersecting lines. The web began to shift. The wormhole led to a galaxy, which appeared to be the Milky Way. Spindle was halfway across the room—

  “Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.”

  Spindle stopped. His eyelight circled around to the back of his head. Streeter’s projected image was standing next to me.

  “Get it?” he asked. “Lost in Space? Will Robinson?” He looked back and forth between Spindle and me. “You mean you guys never heard of that ancient TV show with the robot? They did the remake.” He did robot-arms. “Danger.”

  “Why is Master Streeter projecting into our meeting?” Spindle asked.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to stop Streeter from doing the robot. “I forgot I scheduled him to come over.”

  Actually, I forgot completely. A small wave of panic swept through me. Spindle was right, I’m losing focus.

  “Did I drop in on something top secret?” he asked.

  The wormhole network was public knowledge, but I still thought Spindle might shoot that eye-laser. I calmed Streeter down, asked Spindle to keep going. I should’ve told Streeter to leave, but he was making me laugh. Maybe I was delirious. It just felt good to smile.

  “Do you think this is a joke, Master Socket?”

  “No, Spindle.”

  Streeter waited quietly, like listening to parents fight. I knew this stuff was important, but I needed a break. Streeter was exactly what I needed. Just seeing his image lifted the fatigue. I think Spindle picked up on that. There were still important matters at hand, but he could feel the tension relax inside me.

  “Can we cover the destination?” I asked. “I’ll work with the ship-integration focus later today.”

  He agreed. He followed the wormhole to a planet on the outskirts of the Milky Way. It was not a long trip, not by intergalactic standards.

  When Spindle touched a planet that swirled red, white and blue, the wormholes vanished, leaving us in the dark for a moment. Then the room projected the planet’s atmosphere, like we were standing right there on the surface.

  It was a bleak environment. The sky was steely. The distant mountains were red and the surface gritty. The few trees that sprouted here and there on the flat plain were enormous, but they had no leaves. Instead, their bright green bark was photosynthetic.

  “Your destination is the Grimmet Outpost.” Spindle pointed to the enormous dome-shaped structure that appeared between us and the mountains, the white surface looked pink with red dust. “Your ship will land directly inside the Outpost and you will be greeted by the Paladin crew that resides there. You will not be venturing out of the Outpost since that would require further training and fitted gear. You will be tested for signs of fatigue and given a tour of the facility before returning home.”

  “I thought you were going away for a month?” Streeter asked.

  “Time does not operate that way, Master Streeter. Since Master Socket will be traveling at the speed of light for a short period, time will slow down for him. While his trip may only seem brief, weeks will pass for us.”

  Spindle charged into the rest of the visit, who I would be meeting, what we would be doing and what I could expect. Now I was getting sleepy.

  A distant flutter echoed from one of the leafless trees. Then a cloud of brightly colored grimmets appeared to be heading for us. When they were close enough to hear their wings, my office projected their images around us. They were as playful as the ones in the Preserve. Maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad.

  Streeter walked into the mob with his hands up. It was hard not to join them when they were near, even if it was just a projection. Spindle gave up. He left the office without saying another word. I’d apologize later. In the meantime, Streeter and I would have some fun.

  An hour.

  I’d been asleep for an hour before waking up with a cold shiver running down my back. No memory of a vision or a dream, just the remnants of one. Maybe it knocked me out again, only this time I was already sleeping. I laid there staring at the ceiling but couldn’t remember having a vision, but there was no doubt one had happened. Now I’m not remembering them? I was buzzing with adrenaline.

  I had transformed my office to replicate the tagghet field, again. I hated that I was getting accustomed to the convenience of it – the sounds and smells were dead-on – because I much preferred the real thing, but I let myself be lazy. I told myself there wasn’t time to get out there, but that was bullshit. I just wanted to sit. Now.

  I had been sitting for almost an hour, sweat running down my face as the room replicated the humidity. Even though I hadn’t eaten in almost a day, I felt full. The longer I sat, the fuller I became. Not full, really. Dense.

  An hour and a half into sitting, the kids quietly walked in with their cushions and sat with me. A certain joy vibrated between us without a word. I couldn’t help but smile as they folded their legs and settled their minds. Soon, our breathing was synchronized and we blended with the surrounding sounds and scents.

  The silence was shattered by an earthshaking tremor. Despite the unnatural interruption, none of us broke from our sitting. We remained motionless, but I could feel the thoughts of concern rumble through the office. Finally, Spindle stepped inside. He paused at the entrance and folded his hands in front of his belly. He waited until I looked his way.

  “Your escort has arrived, Master Socket.”

  We sat a few moments longer. The kids didn’t move until I gave a short bow. I was sluggish to get off the ground, loosening my joints like my blood had turned to syrup. I gave the kids encouragement to keep up the schedule, that Spindle would be taking care of them, and I’d see them soon. The girls gave me hugs. I held my hand out to shake Ben’s hand, but he pulled me in for a hug, patting my back.

  “Hugging ain’t just for chicks,” he said.

  I had to laugh and hugged the rest of them. I’d gone on trips before. This felt like a long goodbye. Did they sense the heaviness weighing inside me, sharing my agitation while we sat?

  “Tagghet when you get back,” Aiesha said. “Don’t turn rusty on me, old man.”

  I was five years older than them, and I was the old man. I was certainly walking like one. I informed Spindle to take them to the tagghet field and I’d meet him down at the launch.

  I put on my official space travel outfit. It was dark blue and fitted with numerous pockets and built-in communication modules, thermal-conditioning adjustments to keep my body temperature adequate under extreme conditions, armor-imbedded material to resist impact. Even had a back door to drop a load. I doubled-checked the backpack that contained everything needed for surviving extended periods in the middle of nowhere.

  When the office was quiet, I called for the walls to dim the tagghet field projection so I could rest in the darkness for a while. There was just enough light to see the desk. I straightened up some papers, activated messages for anyone contacting me while I was gone and checked over my schedule one more time.

  It was too dark to see to the other side of the office. Like my future. I was tempted to call Chute and Streeter one last time, but I’d already said my goodbyes. Instead, I called up Chute’s room. Her bed appeared. The covers were thrown back and the pillow dented. She was already about her day.

  I needed to do the same.

  Showtime

  Paladins were lined up in the parking garage. Most just nodded as I passed, some shook my hand, patted me on the shoulder. Servys were hovering
in lines behind them. All seemed present and accounted for. The floor was vibrating with the hum of something powerful, pulsing through the bottom of my feet; I could feel it in my teeth. I stepped through the wall to the other side where the ship would be waiting in the boulder field.

  I stopped immediately. I’d seen images of these deep space cruisers in my studies, knew what they looked like, but in person it was just… daunting. It was black, oval and smooth, like a skipping stone. And it took up the entire field, almost 300 yards across. There were no windows, none visible at least. The air around it trembled like it was fiercely hot, but it seemed to have more to do with the color, a black totally void of light. The ship seemed to be eating the space around it.

  The Commander was standing to the side, letting me take it all in. He nodded at me as if to say, take your time.

  The vibrations I felt inside the parking garage emanated from the ship, quivering through the ground with a low frequency that penetrated solid granite. They intensified for a moment, like it sensed I was staring. Like it was saying, yeah, this shit’s for real, son.

  “I had no idea it would be this…” I trailed off. I didn’t know what I meant. I just had no idea. Period. “This is just for me?”

  “You’ll be travelling alone,” the Commander said.

  “Seems a bit much. Couldn’t you send something a little…” Again, I wasn’t sure if smaller was what I was thinking. Maybe something a little less bad ass?

  “It takes a lot to travel through space,” he said.

  “That thing will fit through the wormhole?”

  He smiled, but instead of answering he adjusted the straps on my backpack. It weighed over seventy pounds, but my body felt so dense that the backpack felt like a box of tissues. The ship contained everything I needed. The pack was just an insurance policy.

  “In case you’re wondering, I don’t personally see every Paladin off on their first trip.” The Commander smacked my back like he was sending off a horse. “But your mother insisted.”

 

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