"Nah, I'll just stay here a bit longer and stare into the fire," Kyle said and gave the other man a sarcastic smile. "I think I may try to catch some sleep; if my mind will stop churning." He eyed the greenery surrounding them for a moment. "You guys wouldn't have something ... herbal around here that might do the trick?"
Mike laughed. "If you're thinking medicinal herbal ... I'm sure we can find something," he said. "Someone came up with hybridization of two food plants that works almost like pot. It works best if smoked."
Kyle couldn't help a smile from spreading over his lips. "You've just made my day, man," he said and got up too. "And who might I talk to about that?"
"Stella," Mike said. "She's a fucking miracle worker when it comes to stuff like that."
Mike took off to get something to eat and Kyle went in search of Stella. He found her at one of the plant tables, working hard on whatever it was she did. He stopped a few feet away and watched her for a moment. "What are you doing?" he asked, curious like always.
Stella glanced at him and smirked. "Taking care of my babies," she said and straightened up. "They're the only kids I'll ever produce, after all."
"At your age? I would have thought you'd left a kid behind in Pangaea somewhere," Kyle said and stepped closer. He wouldn't have known a rose from a weed unless it was in full bloom and those saplings were lacking identity of any kind in his opinion.
Stella shrugged. "Never got to that point. That old coot couldn't have fathered any kids if he'd wanted to and I don't think he wanted to. I was too young and he was too fucking old." She shook her head and returned her attention to her plants. "It's as it should be. So, how is it going? You fitting in?"
He picked up one of the small plastic containers she was planting in and eyed the sapling for a moment. "I fit in anywhere," he said and put it back down. "Mike suggested you have ... medicinal herbs at your disposal."
She laughed. "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask. I pegged you as a pot-head the second I saw you," she said, pointing a dirt-crusted plastic spoon at him. "But not in a bad way, son. And there's no reason for you to be underhanded about it up here. The drug ban down there doesn't apply up here," she added.
"That's good to know," Kyle said. "So ... what can you offer me?"
She eyed him up and down for a moment, then reached under the table and retrieved a bag stashed there among a myriad of other bags. From it she withdrew a smaller transparent bag, which contained something that looked like bark shavings. "This is the best you'll ever have. I guarantee it," she said and handed it to him. "You chew it. It tastes a bit like liquorish and it hits like a hammer. So lie down before you start on it. And make sure you don't take too much. A piece as big as the nail on your little finger is more than adequate."
Kyle took the bag and eyed the contents for a moment, then focused on Stella. "I've had some of the best crap you can get. I had a personal supplier who cooked it up in his basement," he said.
The amusement this caused her was almost a bit insulting. She was one inch short of slapping her knees while she was laughing her head off at him. "You're cute, Kyle. I have to give you that," she said when she finally got her laughter under control again. "No offense," she added and laid a hand on his arm. "This stuff," she said and touched the bag he was still holding, "is one hundred percent pure. No dilution, no chemicals added. It's the best Mother Nature has to offer and believe you me, it's the best you'll ever have. The rush of this stuff is so intense that you may never want to come down again. That's why it's best to take it in small doses."
"Bark?" he asked and met her eyes still glittering with hilarity. "You expect me to believe that I'll get a rush like nothing else I've ever had by chewing bark?"
And again she laughed, although not as heartily as before. "Son, just try it. But promise me that you'll go lie down on your cot before you do. Just humor an old woman, will you?"
Kyle smirked. "I promise," he said, rolled the bag up and stuffed it in his pant pocket. "That said ... I could really use some downtime. Haven't slept a wink all night."
"You'll sleep like a baby," she promised and got back to work.
For a brief moment his belly rumbled, but it wasn't really accompanied by hunger pangs and Kyle figured he could hold out on the eating until he'd slept a little. And he knew he would only get a restful sleep if he drugged himself up. Thanks to Stella, he could easily accomplish that now. "If this stuff works," he muttered under his breath while he walked back to the tent he shared with Daniel.
He flopped down on the cot, unrolled the bag and opened the Ziploc. A whiff of this stuff was enough to make him wonder if Stella was pulling his leg and was laughing her head off at him right now. It smelled very much like liquorish root. He broke a small piece off one of the bark-pieces and held it up in the light. "Looks innocent enough," he muttered and put it in his mouth, then zipped the bag back up, rolled it up and put it under his pillow before stretching out on the cot.
And that was when that freight train he had come to know intimately hit him full force. If he hadn't been lying down, he would have been flat on his back instantly. The vertigo alone was mind-boggling. "Oh yeah," he gasped as the world faded away round him and dreams overtook him in a rush.
***
What dreams might come
Like most times when he dreamed, he knew he was dreaming. On Earth, when he got high, he also knew that he was high, that he was floating on chemicals, and that the things he saw weren't real. He had seen dragons and flying horses and mermaids and other crap like that while high.
This high was different, though. It felt like more than dreams, more like premonitions than any high he'd ever had. At first it was all fun and games. All the things he missed surrounded him in abundance. But it all faded away and for a while he was floating on still waters in complete darkness, feeling weightless and content. Nothing could reach him there on this sea of tranquility. He smirked at the thought. Wasn't there a crater on the Moon called that? That was very appropriate, considering where he was. Maybe the dome he was presently residing in was right in the middle of the Sea of Tranquility. Wouldn't that be something?
But the tranquil feeling left him and he found himself walking down a corridor that twisted away into the distance, uneven and bendy like a snake. And he knew he was back in that odd dream he had before, the one where he had to reach a destination even while knowing that it was out of his reach. But this time, the dream was more fear-inducing. He had the distinct impression that he was being followed, but he couldn't turn around, couldn't see what was behind him. And that smell. It wafted around him in puffs as if some big unseen beast was right behind him, waiting for him to glance back over his shoulder so it could devour him.
He lengthened his stride, not sure where he was heading, but he knew he had to keep moving, to keep walking, and to increase his distance from whatever was behind him. His feet felt heavy, his legs could barely move, and yet he trudged on, struggled forward, the urge to run rising in him like stagnant water from a putrid well.
And then something touched him. Long, slender fingers slipped over his brow and for the first time he could ever remember, he felt the urge to scream, to wrestle free of that hold, to get away from those long, bony fingers.
And a dark, disturbing voice called his name. "Kyle." The air stank to high heaven around him. His legs would no longer obey him, his arms were useless. "Kyle."
The dream state was pulling him down, removing his will and ability to move, and he found himself standing still, his arms dangling at his sides, his knees locked, his feet stuck in some unseen morass, while he felt those fingers on his brow and tried not to inhale that foul stench of death and decay ...
... until that voice calling his name cleared up into one he recognized. "Kyle!"
He blinked and focused unsteadily on the canopy above him, then shifted his gaze to meet the concerned eyes of Daniel. "Danny?" he rasped and was appalled at how his voice sounded.
Daniel drew a sigh of relief. "Thank heaven. I thought you were going to die or something." The kid was on his knees next to Kyle's cot, his hand draped over Kyle's brow.
When Kyle glanced upward, Daniel quickly withdrew his hand. "Why would you think that?" he asked and propped himself up on his elbows. "I was just falling asleep here, man."
Daniel stared at him. "What?" he asked, obviously confused about something. "Are you kidding? You've been out for two days."
Kyle focused on him. "Come again?" he asked.
"I told Stella that I couldn't wake you up. She said you'd taken something; that I shouldn't worry. But ... you've been muttering and tossing and turning and you've been hotter than hell. I've tried to wake you up for two days now," Daniel said and he looked both relieved and scared at the same time.
"Two days?" Kyle swallowed dryly and realized he was famished. Yeah, judging by how hungry he was and how parched he felt, he knew that Daniel was telling the truth. And why wouldn't he? He had no reason to lie about this. "Son of a bitch," he muttered and sat up slowly. He felt like an old man right now.
"What the hell did you take? I mean ... this stuff is dangerous, man," Daniel complained.
"No, it's not dangerous. I just need to listen to what others tell me before doing new drugs," Kyle countered evenly and scrubbed a hand over his lips. "Man, I'm parched. You got a bottle of water floating around here somewhere?"
Daniel produced a bottle and handed it to him. "You know, my dad always said drugs were bad. And after seeing this, I have to agree," he said. "Why would you take something that leaves you this out of it afterwards? And judging by the way you were moaning and tossing, it can't have been a good trip either."
Kyle considered that for a moment, then pulled his legs over the edge of the cot and planted his feet on the ground. "It sure was weird," he confessed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He did feel like he'd been lying down for two days. "That said, I gotta take a leak," he added, rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet and made his way outside. He stepped in between the trees growing around the campsite and relieved himself with one hand braced against the trunk of the tree in front of him, his head down, his eyes closed.
He wouldn't exactly call this a bad trip. As trips went, this one was among the milder ones. What he considered a bad trip always left him out of breath, nauseous, sometimes even hospitalized, and the coming around after a trip like that was always the worst with headaches from Hell. He didn't feel headachy and he sure didn't feel nauseous. As a matter of fact, he was ravenous and knew he would get cranky if he didn't get some food soon.
But first things first; he returned to the tent and sank back down on his cot facing Daniel, who had settled down on his own cot and was watching him closely. "Thanks for looking out for me, Dan," he said and tried a smile, "and I'm sorry I scared you. I thought I had this stuff all figured out. Stella warned me about it being potent. Guess I should learn to listen more, huh?"
Daniel just watched him for a moment. "Guess you should," he agreed. "And I'm only returning the favor."
"Right," Kyle agreed and dug out the bag from under his pillow. He eyed it for a moment. "And this is going back to Stella. I don't think I have the fortitude to do another trip like this."
"Was it that bad?" Daniel asked, a worried look in his eyes.
Kyle smirked sarcastically. "Nah, it was that weird. I don't need weird shit like that. This place is weird enough without me adding drugs to the mix."
Daniel leaned forward a little, propping his elbows on his knees, while he watched Kyle intently. "Why do you do drugs?" There was nothing condemning in his voice, only confused curiosity.
Kyle eyed the bag for a moment longer and then shook his head lightly. "I don't anymore. But I used to because I was running from reality, I guess. My life in Pangaea sucked out loud. Yeah, I had enough money to buy half the Moon if I wanted to, but what's money worth if you don't have anyone around you can trust? I've grown up alone. I've had an ever changing array of nannies and housekeepers to keep me company. My father was never around and when he was, he certainly wasn't a loving caring father. I got into booze before I was old enough to buy beer and then into drugs when the booze didn't cut it anymore. I don't really think I was an addict, per se. I could choose not to do them if I wanted to. I've gone weeks without them when things seemed to go well. But my life with all its benefits was one big disappointment. And instead of doing something about it, I chose to run away through booze and drugs. Bad choice, really."
Daniel nodded. "Sounds like it. You could have just left, couldn't you?"
Kyle chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I could have. But I didn't because I liked the security the money gave me. I never considered that the security of true friends might have been better." He rose. "Well, enough with the bullshit. I'm starving. I need food. I need more water to wash this crap out of my system," he added and glanced down himself. "I need a shower. I reek."
That drew a smile from Daniel. "Yeah, you do," he agreed, which made Kyle give him a mock warning glare.
"Watch it, kid," he warned and then smiled to take the edge off when Daniel rose. He wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "Thanks for looking out for me, kiddo."
"You're welcome," Daniel countered and shrugged out of his grip. "I suggest you grab that shower first. You really do reek."
"Get out of here," Kyle said and shoved him away with a grin. "Bitch."
Daniel fortunately took that in the spirit it was meant. "Jerk," he countered with a smile of his own and left the tent.
***
Dark ruminations
Every dome had its own shower facility and the one in dome 3 was a hell of a lot nicer than the one in dome 2. There were individual shower stalls and everywhere there were plants. The shower felt amazing in spite of the hunger gnawing at his guts, but it still took him a while to realize that everything felt like more. His hunger was immense, the shower felt fantastic, the fresh clothes he put on felt far softer than they should have, and it was only when he sat down at one of the tables in the mess tent and sank his teeth into the most succulent apple he'd ever had that he realized that all his senses were heightened.
Stella came over to join him and watched him for a moment. "How much did you take?" she asked, slightly concerned.
He frowned at her. "Uh ... what you told me to take. Maybe half an inch more, but that's it," he countered and downed a cup of water in one go before filling it up again. "You didn't tell me about the side-effects, though."
"Side-effects?" she asked and took the bag when he handed it back to her. "What side-effects?"
"I feel everything twice as strongly. This is the best damned apple I've ever had," he said and held the fruit up. "The water tastes like fucking champagne and my clothes feel like silk on my skin."
Her gaze shifted to his shirt for a second, then back to his face. "You look flushed, like you're running a fever," she said and reached across the table to touch his brow with the back of her hand. "You feel hot too."
"I feel amazing," he countered, shrugging it off and biting into the apple again. "Are you telling me you didn't know that there were side-effects to this stuff?" he asked.
"No, I didn't. Nobody's ever said anything about that before," she agreed. "By the way, the tunnel to dome 5 ... it's clear."
He paused, briefly wondering if he should let her know that he knew that already. Then he nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said.
Stella arched an eyebrow. "How could you know that?" she asked.
"Because I went over there after everybody went to bed. The tunnel was empty already then. I went through to the other side. And there was no sign of any of the junk we piled in there," he said and instantly noted the worried look in her eyes.
"You went through?" she asked, her tone supporting his suspicion that she was more than worried; she was stunned. "Are you insane? What if the loonies had attacked you?"
Kyle again briefly con
sidered what to tell her and figured full disclosure was the dish of the day. "I met one of them, actually. Even though he wasn't exactly friendly, he wasn't exactly hostile either. Do all of them move like that?"
All she could obviously think of doing was to stare at him. She had no answer for him right now.
"Stella?" he asked after a moment. "Are you zoning out on me here?"
"You ... talked to one of the loonies?" she finally managed, obviously surprised and bewildered by that statement.
"Uh ... yeah. He sort of crab-crawled toward me. To be honest, at first when I spotted him, I thought he was a crab; a big, odd-looking crab. But when he got closer to the light, I could see him better," he said. "And Mike's right. That dome ... there's nothing in there. Not that I could see, anyway."
"What did he say?" She seemed to only be interested in his conversation with Skinny Guy.
"He asked what I was doing there. I asked him if they had removed all the junk and he more or less agreed they had. Then he left again and so did I," Kyle countered. There was one thing he wouldn't share with her, though; that sense he'd had of something big and scary breathing down his neck. She already thought he was nuts for going through the tunnel. He didn't have to confirm her suspicion by letting her know he was anxious about unseen things that may or may not be real.
"You are insane, do you know that?" she stated. "To go in there? When Mike did it, he was with ten others and they were armed with whatever they could use as weapons. They made it all across the dome to the entrance to Hell ... dome 6, that is. Only seven of them returned. Three of them were attacked and ... heaven only knows what happened to them," she said.
Kyle put the apple down, propped his elbows on the table top and leaned in to eye her closely. "Nobody attacked me," he said. "All I saw was this skinny guy who probably has a very bad complexion, crab-walking across the dome. He was rude, but he didn't attack me. Maybe they don't respond well to armed forces."
Dark Side of the Moon Page 15