“Hmm. So, telling one mind from another?” Brad persisted.
“I guess I see…doors? Doors that lead to specific people. I can feel their essence I guess. It’s like smelling them, only in there, there is no sense of smell.”
Brad nodded slowly. “I see. But you were able to influence people, and you put one man in a psych ward once…”
“Oh yeah,” Athan said tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “It’s really hard to explain. There are, like, pockets that I can access within that place where I can be within their current state of mind. It takes a bit of energy to make a mess in there. I can go deeper into the subconscious too, but it doesn’t feel safe.”
“Not safe?” This was new to Brad. “I’m sure the physical plane is less safe.” Brad sat back into the lounge and sipped his drink as he pondered this new knowledge. “Then we just have to wait and see what fate brings us in regards to this PHC activity.”
Athan took another sip of his drink, feeling relieved at being able to share with his friend. But now he felt as helpless as Brad did.
Athan woke sometime in the morning.
He couldn’t tell what time exactly, seeing as Brad’s hideaway was underground. He had fallen asleep on the lounge in front of the gas heater, still in the dressing gown he was given the night before.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to wake himself up and he found the headache he had been cradling the night before was returning.
There was no pleasant arousal for Athan, when he woke from sleep, no fond memories of fading dreams like normal people have. His sleep was a black nothing while his body repaired what it needed to.
He squinted through the growing pain.
Maybe it was the drinking. He had been sipping strong spirits most of the evening, not a lot, but it must be enough to make him feel sore, unless it was his headache from the night before being carried over.
Climbing up from the lounge he looked at the many screens around him, all of which were still playing different images, news, films, documentaries and flowing text of various legal and illegal web pages. The volume had been set to mute for him to sleep.
Apollo had always been surrounded by this sort of thing, and as technology advanced obviously more means for information access had been added. Athan had come to Apollo hoping that this infinite network of information had given him some clue about where the PHC were hunting or an insight into the unsettling feeling that had been growing inside his mind. It was disturbing that he had not let off any alarm bells when he started waking coma patients. The PHC were usually more vigilant.
It was time to get working on the new list that Enstein had given him at the club. Only four new names.
There was no telling how long each of these patients would take to be repaired. He looked about the spacious room to get his bearings and hopefully find his clothes, which he noticed were hanging from a hanger near the door. They were dry.
He imagined that Belind had organized them before leaving for university.
It had been many years since he had had any kind of a relationship with a woman, mostly because he just didn’t feel that he could trust a person that much after spending so much time stepping in and out of human minds.
He was doing up his thin black tie when Belinda came shuffling out of the bedroom in her gown. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”
It’s still early then…
“Fine. And thank you for letting me keep Brad up most of the night.” Athan smiled. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“Yes, well, unless you keep an eye on a clock down here you never know what time it is. And I’m glad Brad had a friend to talk to, he’s up to all hours most nights. Doesn’t like to miss anything.” She nodded toward the many screens. “You know how he is I guess. I usually keep him company, because I’m a bit of a night owl too.”
Athan slipped his suit jacket on, straightened his tie and checked for the list, which was still folded in the left breast pocket along with his money.
Time to leave.
“Thank Brad for his company. It’s good to have friends. And thank you for letting me stay with you, and for cleaning my clothes,” Athan said with a slight smile.
“Anytime! We don’t often have guests. Actually, never. I was going to ask about the suit, why do…” she stopped suddenly.
He had taken a step toward her for what she thought was an appreciative hug; then he was gone.
Belinda looked about the screens that flickered around the room. The man had vanished.
***
Sally Wolf, an orderly at the Ballarat Base Hospital, had just finished filling out a progress report at the foot of a patient’s bed and turned to leave, only to bump into a young man in a dark suit and tie.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you?” she asked forcefully while clutching her clipboard. “This is a private ward you know?”
“Forgive me, I must be lost.”
“You aren’t supposed to be here if you aren’t visiting family,” the orderly stammered, clearly startled to find a stranger on her rounds.
“I’m looking for my cousin David? David Li? He’s a coma patient here,” lied Athan.
“Oh, rightio. I can show you. He’s just down the end on the left, behind the curtain.” The orderly looked at him suspiciously. This man was obviously not from the Chinese side of Mr Li’s family, but she thought, for him to have been sent this far by reception he must check out.
“Thank you, Sally,” the man in the suit said.
“How’d you know my name is Sally? Have we met before?”
“Your name badge,” he said as he strolled down to the bed she had indicated and disappeared behind the curtain. She rolled her eyes at the obvious mistake and scurried off to finish her rounds. Maxine was getting her a coffee and it would be getting cold if she wasn’t quick with her rounds.
She was nearly at the cafeteria when she realized her name badge was back on her desk where it waited to get a new pin.
Chapter 4
THE GROUND WAS soft, like rubbery skin, and it looked like it too. Slightly spongy, soft in some places, firm in others.
Athan stood and concentrated.
He was listening to his instinct.
From this place he could locate any human mind he was looking for. This world stood as an intermediary between every human consciousness. They were all here somewhere.
He just had to concentrate.
He would find what he was looking for.
Athan trod lightly on the bony ridges that marked a spine-like furrow through the ground.
This was the right way.
He could feel it, or smell it.
There was no such thing as smelling the location of a mind, of course, but that was the best way he could rationalize the sensation.
He looked at the dark sky surrounding him. It would be day soon, at least what passed for day. The white glow would appear though the endless layers of drifting cloud and fog.
Athan could navigate at night by using the pale yellow and pink glow that emanated from some holes in the fleshy canyons. It was bright enough to see by, but the holes would tighten and close if he made too much sound, like anemones in rock pools at the beach.
There you are.
The mind he was searching for was close, nestled in the wall of the canyon, where the skin had a pale green tinge.
He was sure he was in right place; it had a sour sort of smell, or the feeling that something wasn’t right, like the door to the mind was bruised.
He walked into it as if there was nothing there and passed straight through. There was a slight tingling across his skin, and then he stood in the ruins of a collapsed building.
Every mind was different, but most were little more than walkways with a shimmer of imagery, memory perhaps, then Athan would be standing outside in the real world.
They were channels.
It was the minds of the unconscious that were the most spectacular. Athan thought t
hat it was because their conscious selves were inside remaking it, using the elements gathered by their external means of perception to build and destroy their internal landscape.
This one was typical of the comatose mind in its appearance. It was a horrible dusty scene of destruction, probably from a traumatic experience in the owner’s life, or a manifestation of their fears.
Now he just had to find the owner of the mind and help him get out, which was not easy.
However, the subconscious would always leave clues; a trail of bread crumbs from the owner’s life, important objects that only he would recognize only.
He climbed to a small vantage point among some steel where he could take in the scene.
There was a dog.
A Rottweiler that looked under-fed and a little mangy, maybe a little larger than natural. It was fussing over some sheets of corrugated iron stacked against a section of wall, a perfect hiding place for someone who was being chased.
He didn’t want to charge in without a weapon of some kind, like a length of pipe. It probably wouldn’t hurt the dog, but he had to free Mr Li.
He took a deep breath before gingerly climbing down to face the hound with a length of pipe.
Athan didn’t know all the rules for these individual mind spaces, and he hadn’t had to fight anything in the subconscious either.
He was going to learn something new this time.
The dog didn’t move a muscle.
It was frozen now that Athan had short-circuited the scenario. He couldn’t tell if it was about to launch itself at him at killer speed, or if it would just fade away.
“Help me!” came a voice from behind the sheets of iron.
A young voice.
“Get out of it! Git you ugly bastard!” Athan called to the dog, secretly hoping that it would actually listen. But the dog responded the way a physical dog would, it began a low guttural growl and bared its teeth.
“Awesome,” Athan said softly “I have to fight a giant dog”.
The Rottweiler lowered its head and began to slowly pad over to where Athan stood.
He readied the iron post to make a kind of impaling defence if the dog jumped at him.
He had seen it in movies where the lion or something would leap through the air and land on the spear or staff or whatever the poor huntsman had ready. This dog was not doing any kind of leaping; it stalked over carefully, constantly growling.
At last it made its move.
It thrust forward with a gravelly bark and open jaws straight at his mid section. Athan responded quickly and brought up one end of his iron post to fend off the assault. The post cracked against the beast’s skull, and made a resounding clang and the dog yelped.
There was some blood dripping into the dust and gravel: the swing must have been enough to actually hurt the thing. The massive dog began to skulk away along some kind of path through the ruin.
The sheets of iron were stacked in a haphazard way that had formed a kind of cubby house.
Athan pulled away a sheet that served as the door and inside he saw it was lined with wooden palings and planks so that it almost looked cosy.
In the corner farthest from the door was young David Li, and next to him was a large shoebox that the boy was protecting.
He was a half Chinese eight year old in a pale blue shirt and a pair of jeans and sneakers. Around the boy were all the objects one would expect to find in a playhouse: toys, a pocketknife, some comic books and even a wooden sword and a cardboard shield.
Athan crawled inside, pulled the door closed behind him and sat cross-legged on the dusty floor facing the boy.
“Hey there, David. What’re you doing in this place?”
The boy glared at him, still afraid.
“The nasty dog is gone. It’s just us now,” he reassured the boy.
“Are…are you sure?” the boy replied timidly.
“Very sure, mate, very sure. Where are we?” Athan asked. He needed bearings of some kind if he was going to get the boy out.
“My safe place, my tree house. I had to get away from the next door neighbour’s dog.”
Athan nodded.
“Who are you? Did Dad send you here to go through my things?” the boy said with suspicion.
Pay dirt.
It was about his things and his father. These puzzles weren’t that hard as long as the kids could see the truth in it.
“Yes, I’m a friend of your Dad, but I’m not going to go through your stuff, that’s your business. I’m happy for you to tell me about your stuff if you like.” Athan gave the boy a friendly smile.
“Like what?” David was still hesitant.
“Like…” He looked about hoping to work his way up to the shoebox that David was obviously protecting. “This here.” Athan held up the wooden sword.
“My sword. Sometimes I have to protect the castle from the dragon that wants to eat the townspeople.” The boy wiped away some of the tear streaks with his knuckles.
“The dragon is big and black and brown right? With big teeth?” Athan thought about the dog. “And were you defending the realm today against the dragon?” he asked hoping to skip other irrelevant questions.
“I had to protect the treasure,” young David said, wide eyes.
“What kind of treasure was it going to steal?” Athan thought this was going well so far.
“Dad can’t find out. It’s special, but he can’t find out. This is the chest, but you can’t see inside.” The boy laid a hand on the box.
Bugger.
“Was it Dad’s? I won’t tell him. He wouldn’t be happy with me slaying the dragon either, so we’re in this together.” Athan smiled. “Just you and me, there’s nothing else out there.”
That box is the key, he thought. He needed access to the box, or at least to get the boy to tell him about its contents.
Then a sound from outside gave him an opportunity and also made him a little worried. It was the heavy padding of feet followed by a dull growl.
The dog was back.
Oh, great.
“David, I think you need to tell me about that box. The dragon is back. You can hear it. We’re both trapped here forever if you can’t tell me about that box.” Athan reached out to grab the wood and iron door and pulled it more tightly closed.
There was a loud thump and some scratching of claws on metal as the beast outside tried to get through.
This had better work.
“Why is that dog trying to kill us David? You know why and you aren’t telling me!” Athan was starting to get a little stressed with the whole ‘trapped in a cubby house by a giant dog in a boy’s mindscape’ situation. That was too many flavours of trapped for his liking.
“You’ll kill us!” Athan urged as he crawled closer to the boy.
Athan looked around the room; the boy was panicking and thinking about his secret, a fresh clue should materialize very soon.
It always did.
His eyes settled on a cutting board and a little wooden pencil case.
This is new, he thought, this must be it.
The boy stared at it with horror.
“What’s this David? Is this why I can’t tell Dad?” Athan leaned over to examine it further.
The boy was hyperventilating.
This was it.
“No, it isn’t anything,” he lied.
Athan picked up the little wooden box while the boy looked on in terror. The lid slid back coarsely, like it was hand made, maybe by the boy when he was at school. Inside there was an assortment of sharp metal objects: pins, a Stanley knife and a small pair of rusted scissors. This could have been the tool kit of a miniature serial killer.
“David, you’d better tell me what you did with these…” Athan picked up the Stanley knife and examined the blade.
“I can’t.” Young David said. Voice wavering.
“Why is the dog trying to kill us, and why do you have these things? You have to tell me, or you need to show me.”
&nb
sp; The boy sobbed and slid the shoebox slowly across the floor towards Athan and covered his tear-streaked face.
Athan took it. He had never liked this part of memory. He pulled the lid open and peered inside.
For a moment it was black, and then a form began to materialize.
It was a puppy.
A Rottweiler puppy, and it was dissected as if someone had performed an autopsy on it. Its organs were all carefully removed and lined up at its sides and pins held the skin back to reveal the hollow chamber between its small ribs.
“Does this belong to the dog outside? Why did you do this?” Athan muttered as he gazed at the gory scene in the box.
“It was already dead!” David blurted. “It wasn’t breathing! Mr Elwood would have just buried it, and the dog didn’t care! It was laying there all day and didn’t move!” He stammered between sobs as he rubbed at his eyes, wiping wet smears over his cheeks.
The boy told Athan that he just wanted to see inside. He wanted to understand how its body worked. It turned out that when his father was invited around to see the puppies Mr Elwood found that one was missing and assumed that the mother had eaten it. Thus, the mother of the puppies was put down.
“It was me!” The boy began to cry uncontrollably, and things began to fade away, piece by piece.
At last.
The sound of the dog outside had gone and the cubby faded out of existence leaving Athan sitting in an emptiness of swirling colour. The boy had become the man’s waking consciousness and was gone.
It was done.
***
One foot after another.
Athan had to cross a sparse area that resembled a kind of desert. The ground was smooth and firm and occasionally lifted and fell like it was breathing. In places tall tubes like fleshy flagpoles erupted from the ground and pierced the fog.
It was while he was witnessing one of these strange tubes that a strange feeling came over him, like a chill, like eyes on his back.
Athan looked about him and scanned what he could see of the horizon.
The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League Page 5