seaQuest fanfic : Nightmares
Found on a floppy while cleaning out my website.
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Title: Nightmares
Author/pseudonym: katirene (XMP)
Rating: PG for content
Pairing: not applicable
Date: 05 - 03- 2000
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Amblin Television and Universal
Television series "seaQuest DSV", created by Rockne S. O'Bannon. There
is no intention of profitting off the series, and I've never made a dime from any
of the stories I've written using their property.
Summary: Dagwood is in trouble and Darwin goes to the rescue
Warnings: This story is based on several nightmares that I had, and so is rather disturbing to me. There is no blood and no deaths, except delusional. There are scenes of psychological and chemical torture.
Comments: I had a dream some time back, that I mentioned briefly on list and transferred to another, unknowingly. This is my attempt to exorcise that nightmare. So, this one is for Margaret.
Furthermore, I'm assuming that the language of humans to Darwin would sound as simplistic as his sounds to us, and that names or titles would have a single "meaning" attached to them for a single person. Hence, whether someone calls Captain Bridger, that, or Captain or even sir, Darwin would hear 'Bridger'. I mean no disrespect by it, nor am I trying to imply anything about the character that Darwin hears speaking. ---ki (XMP)
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Nightmares
by katirene (XMP)
Ummm, Lucas? Tony? Darwin?
Dagwood thought he was speaking. He meant to call his friends, but how could they hear him when he couldn't even hear himself? Dagwood wasn't even sure that he was himself.
There was nothing to see. Not black, like night or closets, but grey nothing. When he tried to move his arms and legs, he couldn't tell if they did or not. He didn't like that. Nervously,
Dagwood tried to swallow, but he couldn't even tell if he'd done that. There was no sensation, no smell, nothing.
Dagwood didn't like being in this place. This no-place. He wanted to be back on the seaQuest, where he was safe.
Guys? Where are you?
He paused, wondering. If no one heard him, was he making any sound? And if he wasn't, then how could they answer? That reminded him of something that Tony had once told him. That a tree falling in the middle of the forest with no one around to hear it fall, didn't make any noise. Miguel said that Tony was full of what made the grass grow green, but Dagwood didn't think so. Tony wasn't green, he was a sort of brownish-pinkish colour.
For a while, Dagwood amused himself thinking about his friends and the colours they were, comparing them to the patches of colour on his own skin. He thought a smile at this, because it made him feel that his friends were a part of him, and that they were with him. Here. In this no-place. Then he frowned. Thinking carefully, Dagwood tried to speak again.
And where is Dagwood?
* * *
"The subject is awake, doctor," the crisply white coated lab tech announced, recording the dial read-outs into the casebook.
"Excellent. Excellent. I'll tell the captain directly. And how is our guest reacting to our hospitality?" Dr. Lars McLaren gazed through the thick plate glass tank wall at the rubber-garbed behemoth floating in the center of the heavy salt water, the density carefully calculated to maintain his position. A airhose extruded from one end, and waste tubing from the other. Dr. McLaren had no intention of aborting the experiment until he had achieved his purpose.
"Disoriented. Frightened. Worried." Sam Beck raised one shoulder to indicate her indifference. "Pretty normal responses to this stage of the process. He trying to talk, but the larnyx inhibitor is working perfectly."
"Too bad the principal stipulated no physical damage," the psychiatrist mused sadly. "I'm not sure that the dampening field is really an effective method to eliminate the sound of blood rushing." Beck shrugged again. "Well no matter. Now, Ms. Beck, it is important to keep scrupulous records of all this. No skipping steps or fudging. Nobody has ever done anything like this with a Dagger before, and there's no way of telling when he will slip into the second stage. It could be days. Daggers were designed to resist coercion, after all."
Idiot show-off male! Sam thought, but her voice was properly respectful as she pointed out, "This one is defective sir."
"Which might make it even longer, Ms. Beck. After all, sensory deprivation has proved far less effective on less intelligent, less well adjusted individuals. And this one definitely qualifies as less intelligent." He smiled, a smug, patronizing expression on his face, and the tech's hand itched to slap his male dominant face. Someday, she promised herself, she'd show him. Taking her silence for agreement, Dr. McLaren went to inform the the captain that it had begun.
* * *
Dagwood wished that he could hear something, or touch something, or see something. He felt trapped, like Winnie the Pooh inside Rabbit's front door. Dagwood liked that image, and he decided to remember the whole story, because there was nothing else to do. Lucas and Darwin would come to get him soon, he knew, if he waited long enough.
And even though he couldn't hear himself, he started as the storyteller had always started when she read the book to him, singing softly, "Deep in the hundred acre wood..."
* * *
Beck frowned at the dials, surprised to see that the subject's vital signs were settling down to normal. In fact ... She straightened up and gazed out at the figure in the pool. He'd fallen asleep? With a sigh and a shrug, she recorded the fact and then got up. Might as well get some coffee. As Dr. McJerk said, it looked like it was going to be a long wait.
* * *
Darwin, dolphin and resident xenobiologist of the seaQuest, even if none of the human crew were aware of his position, was worried. He told himself that there was nothing to worry about, but the inchoate apprehension continued to grow on him. He began to swim through the boat, checking up on his charges, especially those for whom he felt a decided affection. Bridger was in his quarters, talking to the picture of his dead mate. Darwin paused briefly, sensing again the deep sadness that his pet felt when he remembered his woman. The dolphin scientist had had hopes, a few years back, that Bridger would take another mate, but nothing had come of that. Relieving his emotions with sigh, a sad stream of bubbles streaming out behind him, Darwin moved on, to find out where the rest of the crew was located.
* * *
Dagwood woke up with a start. Or at least, he thought he did. But he wasn't sure. He wasn't really sure of anything. This no place he was made him feel the same way he had when everyone thought that he had killed the man that the picture said that he had, but he hadn't. He was Dagwood, but he wasn't Dagwood, because Dagwood had two feet and two legs and a body and two arms and two hands and a neck and a head and two eyes and one nose and one mouth and two ears. And this Dagwood didn't.
He spent a while thinking about all the things that he had two of and the things that he had one of and wondering why that was so. Why did Dagwood have two eyes, but only one nose? He thought that he could see better than he could smell, but if he had two noses, could he smell twice as well? And it would be fun to have two mouths, one to eat with and one to talk with. After a little thought, though, Dagwood decided that one mouth was better. It would make him feel very confused trying to remember which one he used for which thing.
Then he forgot all that because he could see something. A little bit of colour. No, a lot of colour. A Dagger's worth of colour. Dagwood could see Dagwood, and his happiness turned to horror because that Dagwood had his face all scrambled up with mouths on top and bottom and eyes for ears and....
With a moaning cry, Dagwood tried to close his eyes but it just stayed there, making noises and coming closer. If it touched him, he wouldn't be any kind of Dagwood any more.
But it didn't touch Dagwood. Instead, the other Dagwood's face started to swirl around and around, the eyes and the mouths and the noses and the ears and everything getting all mixed up and then it exploded all over no-thing and Dagwood screamed as loudly as he could.
DARWIN!
* * *
Darwin swam back to the Moonpool, still uneasy, despite the fact that every member of the pod was where it was supposed to be. Except for Dagwood, of course. Dagwood wanted to visit his niece on the Dagger Island and Bridger had given him permission. As if the thought of the big, gentle giant had opened a channel, the dolphin *heard* Dagwood cry out his name.
*Dagwood* he called back, but the link was lost.
"Dagwood not here," Lucas, the young one with the blonde head fur, said. "Went visit family. Back four, eight tides." Darwin realized that he must have called aloud to his friend.
"I know that Dagwood's not here," he answered as patiently as possible. It didn't do to show anger to these creatures. They were just like children sometimes and didn't understand much. "But I think Dagwood's in trouble."
"Trouble?" the almost grown calf repeated. "What trouble?"
"I don't know," the dolphin answered. "Perhaps you should call the Dagger Island and find out?" He'd do it himself, but the creatures weren't clever enough to create one of their long distance speaking devices that Darwin could use, and they weren't able to speak over a distance to one another without them.
"Lucas try," he answered, flashing his rather inadequate teeth in faint imitation of delphine humour. Unfolding himself from the floor, where he was fiddling with a breathing apparatus, Lucas left the room. Knowing that the young human would call from his own quarters, Darwin swam through the corridors until he arrived there, peering over the mussed up bed on which this friend slept, trying to see the screen of his seeing box.
The picture was of a brightly patterned Dagger. Darwin approved of the markings on this type of human. Much more satisfying than the monochromatic appearance of all others. He couldn't hear what was said through the glass, but he understood their expressions well enough to know that the Dagger speaking was saying no, and looking sad. Lucas made the picture dark and threw himself up on the bed, switching on the speaker.
"Sorry Darwin. Dagger say Dagwood not come. Say seaQuest call say Dagwood need to stay here, do wuk. Lucas go ask Bridger. Maybe Bridger know why Dagwood come back." Switching it off again, he bounced to the ground and ran off. Darwin remained in one place, thinking deeply. Dagwood was in trouble and needed help. And he needed it soon. As always, it was up to Darwin to save the day.
* * *
Beck was startled aware by the thrashing form in the tank. With a mild curse, she noticed that the idiot had pulled out one of his waste lines. Quickly she pressed the valve that released sophoric gas into the breathing tube before the Dagger pulled out any more of them. She scowled as the thing in the tank slowly grew still, annoyed because this meant she'd have to get suited up and go in there to fix things. It wasn't fair, she grumbled. She'd been the one to prep the specimen for the experiment and now she had to go in and move him around in that thick, warm soup mixture, inserting the catheter back in place and making sure that his air line was clear. She hated the feel of the liquid on her skin through the wet suit, as if it weren't there, deadening everything. She finished recording the data, then with an angry sigh, went to fix the hoses before he asphixiated or something. And in her irritation, she forgot to wonder at the speed at which he'd passed into stage two.
* * *
Darwin felt a sense of pride through his concern. Bridger had immediately seen the implications of Dagwood being absent, and being an honourable creature, he was doing his best to find the large Dagger, calling different stations on the journey that Dagwood had taken. Darwin stayed on the bridge, watching, listening and calling encouragement.
Wendy, a female of the species with dark, long head fur, had closed her eyes and was concentrating outward, trying to locate the missing crewmember, while Darwin took care to shield his own from her search. She shook her head. "Sorry Bridger," he heard the female say sorrowfully. "Wendy can't hear him."
"Maybe Dagwood is asleep," Darwin offered. Bridger nodded, pointing one finger at the aquatic mammal.
"Bridger think Darwin right," he said simply. "Wendy try later?" She nodded. Darwin nodded his head as well. He had no intention of stopping the search until he'd regained that contact. Before he ducked down, though, he heard Bridger order, "Take seaQuest to place Dagwood last seen. seaQuest check on him." There were no questions, no demurrals. Darwin again felt proud of his humans, and felt a sense of sorrow that not all humans were so dolphin-like.
* * *
"Give him the antidote!" Dr. McLaren ordered harshly. "How dare you take it on yourself to sedate the subject?" Resentfully, Beck did as directed, fuming inwardly at the masculine arrogance of this dog. "I told you to inform me the minute his condition changed," he went on. "Not knock him out. There's no telling how far back you've put him." The Dagger's heart rate and respiration slowly increased as consciousness returned.
"But I had to untangle the lines, sir, and fix up the waste catheter." Beck despised herself for that sir, and hated having to try to justify her actions to him. It was too bad she couldn't report directly to the captain. Now that was something that she would definitely enjoy. But she had to admit that the goat might have a point. The subject was a lot calmer now.
* * *
Dagwood wondered again where he was, and how he had gotten there. He remembered that he'd been on his way to visit his niece and meet his other new nieces and nephews. He remembered going to the place where the boat he was supposed to take to Dagger Island was docked. It was a Navy boat, and he'd gotten off a Navy boat, but to get from one place to another, he had to walk off base and then back on. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, a breeze was blowing and there were flowers dancing among themselves trying to listen to the music rippling through their leaves. Dagwood had enjoyed the walk. Then someone had stopped him and asked him for directions and Dagwood had had to say that he didn't know where that was. He only knew how to get from one dock to another because he had studied that.
Try as he might, Dagwood couldn't remember anything after he told the man that he didn't know how to get to Chamberlin Ave. At least, not until he woke up here. Or, not-here. Dagwood was very confused. He wished that Lucas was not-here so that he could explain what was happening. Or not-happening. Lucas knew many things. Lucas was Dagwood's friend. Dagwood had many friends. He had Lucas and Darwin and Tim and Miguel and Donny and Ari and Trey and Lonnie and Commander Ford and Captain Bridger and Dr. Smith and ... Smiling happily to himself, Dagwood counted through the entire crew of the seaQuest.
* * *
"Damn! I was afraid this would happen," Dr. McLaren snarled at the dials. "Your idiot reaction gave him the time he needed to recovert." He sighed, visibly came to a decision. "Ok, add a dose of Skarst-wpb to his air supply."
"Skarst-wpb, sir? Are you sure? That stuff is powerful."
"I know, you idiot. I'm the one who ordered it. Now do what I tell you or I'll make sure you never get another job in a lab. Not even washing bottles." Fuming, Beck added a minute amount of the potentially fatal drug to the air mix. Skarst-wpb had been responsible in a number of "accidental" heart attacks, and a number of those exposed to it had had to be committed to mental hospitals. Literally, it frightened people out of their minds. Dr. McLaren leaned over her shoulder and impatiently pressed the increased dosage button again.
"I want him prepared, Ms. Beck," he said, touching it again. "Frightened, not just upset." Beck pulled his hand away before he could increase the dose of the drug a fourth time.
"You'll kill him sir," she protested.
"Nonsense. He's a big boy. He needs a big dose." But the doctor backed away, and studied the dials with interest.
* * *
Dagwood was imagining all of his friends had come to take him home and he was back on the seaQuest. But then he smelled something. Something nasty. Something horrible. And in his imagination, he looked around and found that he was still on the seaQuest, but nobody seemed happy to see him. They were all sitting, slumped over, or fallen to the floor. He went to the pool, looking for Darwin.
A hand fell on Dagwood's shoulder and bits of it fell even further down Dagwood's shirt, falling off in bits. Dagwood turned around. Commander Ford stood there, and he had a big hole on the side of his face. Dagwood could see Commander Ford's teeth through his cheek.
"You did this, Dagwood," the commander said. "If you had been here, you could have saved us."
No. No. I didn't know. What happened?
He backed away, into Captain Bridger. The captain had no eyes, but he still looked at the Dagger. "You should have been here, Dagwood. You could have prevented this."
No. No. You aren't dead. You can't be dead.
"Yes," Ensign Adler answered him, holding her guts in place with her hands, trying to keep the long slimey tubes inside her stomach. "We are all dead. All dead."
No!
Dagwood ran from the bridge. If he could find Darwin, it would be all better. He had to find Darwin.
* * *
Dr. McLaren smiled unpleasantly at the signs of acute anxiety on the part of their involuntary guest. "Leave him like that for half an hour, then administer the antidote."
"Half an hour? Are you sure? You gave him a triple dose. What if he goes into heart arrest?"
"I'm the doctor here, aren't I? Our captain wants results and wants them soonest. We don't have time to break this dummy down the slow way."
So, the captain's on your back, Beck thought with a sense of mean satisfaction. I hope she gives you hell, you sadistic son of a bastard. She continued to monitor the Dagger's descent into madness.
* * *
Dagwood finally found Darwin and he was in the Moonpool. There wasn't any nasty smells in here, but the dolphin was floating on his back. Afraid, Dagwood jumped into the pool and turned his friend over, trying to get him upright. Then he saw that Darwin was just as dead as the rest. All of Dagwood's friends, all dead and it was all Dagwood's fault. The mighty Dagger threw back his head and howled as loudly as he could.
DARWIN!
*darwin here where dagwood*
I DON'T KNOW! NO PLACE!
*darwin not understand where no place*
DAGWOOD DOESN'T KNOW. DAGWOOD NOT-HERE IN NO PLACE.
There was another funny smell and Dagwood felt the other slipping away.
DARWIN!
*darwin be ...*
Dagwood thought that if he had a body, he would be crying. He felt even sadder that he couldn't cry.
* * *
Muttering to herself, Beck waited to see the effect of the antidote, in case more was needed. McLaren could talk about leaving this poor beast to suffer for thirty minutes, but she'd be damned if she'd be his agent in it. Besides, it wasn't possible, but the Dagger had actually started calming down before she'd administered the dose. Writing down the figures on the readouts, Beck wondered if McLaren really did know what he thought he did.
* * *
Darwin hurried back to the bridge. "Bridger! Bridger!" he squealed excitedly.
His pet rushed to him, rubbing his melon the way he liked it best. "What wrong, old friend?" he asked genially.
"You mean, 'What's right!' I *heard* Dagwood. He says he in a place that's no place but he isn't there either." Darwin stopped short. He'd been so excited about the contact that he hadn't thought it through. "How can Dagwood not be in a no place?" he mused aloud.
Wendy walked up, her eyes wide and staring. "That way Avatar describe his coma," she said. "Not really exist in a place couldn't be."
"Wendy think Dagwood in coma?" Bridger asked, and Darwin could hear the doubt in his voice, but only because he knew this human so well.
"Maybe. Or maybe something else. Darwin, tell Wendy next time you hear Dagwood. Please?" Darwin nodded. She turned back to Bridger. "Wendy need to find something. Wendy tell Bridger more later. Ok?"
"As soon as Wendy know something. Wendy tell Bridger!" the grizzled furred human repeated emphatically.
"Wendy promise." And the young female human left the bridge quickly.
"Darwin, old friend," Bridger said, scratching his snout again. "Bridger try to find Dagwood. Darwin tell Bridger where to go." Darwin nodded.
"I'll let you know as soon as I know. There has to be something that can help us." Bridger sighed and murmured something that sounded like "one men" but Darwin took it for affirmative and dove down, seeking the outer door to the boat. He wanted to find the nearest pod and set them searching. It was a matter of known fact that a full pod working together is far more powerful than the simple addition of the same number of dolphins working independently.
* * *
*dagwood?*
Dagwood was no longer sure what was real and what was not, because no-thing was real and everything was not-real. He was afraid that the voice he heard in his mind was not-real.
*dagwood can you hear me?*
Darwin, is that you?
*dagwood! yes, this is darwin. keep talking to me. i need to figure out where you are.*
How? What should I say?
*anything. sing me a song, tell a story, just keep talking directly at me.*
There was a pause, then a different voice, a little like Darwin's but not quite, said in a loud voice in Dagwood's head, *SING THE SONG THAT THE SINGER SANG*
Obediently, unable to hear himself, Dagwood sang the song.
To ease her grief with comfort to say ... something
To turn her hurt and her pain away, sighs ... often
His heart being full of his great love, most deeply
and still the gods give orders.
He obeys them, he goes down to his fleet... to his fleet.
* * *
Darwin raced back to the seaQuest. The pod had a fix on Dagwood's mind and were triangulating on his position, now it was up to him to get the seaQuest there. He waited impatiently while the sea door opened. then sped through the boat. He found the bridge in a state of excitement.
"Miguel tell you, hears Dagwood," the burly, muscular male was insisting. His not quite mate stood beside him, nodding vigourously in concert with Tim, another male.
"Tim and Ari hear him too," the smaller female claimed.
"And so do I," Darwin said, abruptly entering the conversation. "Bridger, I'll have some information in just a few waves." He felt, rather than heard, the other dolphins, sharing their findings with him. "Dagwood is nearby, in a small, very quiet sub to the sunside of seaQuest."
"Miguel, Ari, find that sub." The two quickly took their stations, their movements meshing beautifully as their minds worked in tandem. Darwin allowed the sight to distract him momentarily from his worry. He had such hopes for their off-spring. If only he could persuade them to get down to breeding. He sighed.
"seaQuest will find Dagwood, old friend," Bridger said reassuringly, rubbing the side of Darwin's head. Darwin leaned into the caress. He did love these creatures, he thought. They were so very adorable in their helplessness.
"Ari and Miguel have it!" the man announced suddenly. His female rattled off the coordinates as a WSKRS view appeared on screen.
"French Scorpion, alcohol based fuel engine. Not cheap," Bridger mused. "But very quiet. Bridger wonder who did this."
"Fish in water," Miguel reported, as a long metal shape emerged from the other sub and grew into the screen which suddenly went black. Another view appeared, from further away. "WSKRS gone. Other sub know seaQuest coming."
"Follow!"
* * *
Beck cursed as the sub suddenly curvetted to one side, tipping her over. Then she gasped in horror. The valve of Skarst-wpb was stuck on, and the hose had come off. Moaning with terror, she cowered away from the on-rushing demons. She didn't see the far end of the soporific gas pull away from the air mix assembly and fling up and the sub swerved again, jamming against an intership air vent.
* * *
Dagwood felt something. Some real thing, not some not-real thing. He felt it again and thought about raising his hand, feeling the real thing. It felt like a wall. Dagwood began to explore the real thing that felt like a wall, finding a corner and another and another and another and... He wondered how many corners there were.
* * *
"Fish in the water. Two fish. Bearing 0 1 9." Miguel reported again. Darwin wished that they wouldn't call torpedoes 'fish'. It always made him feel hungry. And he always felt hungry when he was afraid anyway.
"Evade, Commander. Brody, launch decoys." Bridger knew what to do.
"Decoys away."
"seaQuest have firing answer?" The question was hard on Brody's comment.
"Not yet," Ari answered, then "Yes." She gave it to Brody.
"Enemy torpedos miss." Tim announced.
"Flood tubes 2 and 4." Bridger ordered. Brody sent the command on and then replied.
"Tubes 2 and 4 flooded."
"Aim for propellers. Fire number two."
"Number two away." Brody answered.
"Fire number four," Bridger ordered.
"Number four away."
"Close tubes and reload. Target acquired Tim?"
"Other sub trying evasion. Number two acquire target. Number four acquire target. Impact in 5 ... 4... 3... 2... 1... Impact, number two. Impact number four."
"Damage report."
"Direct hit propeller."
"Let's reel other sub in, folks."
Darwin slipped off the bridge and out of the boat, wanting to see for himself. And so, he was saw the small stealth vehicle zoom away from the wrecked sub.
* * *
Dagwood felt real hands on him, pulling him and he let them, too happy to feel any real thing to complain. Light hit his eyes and he almost screamed at the sight of the monster looking down at him. Then he recognized Miguel's eyes behind a face mask, and another mask was pressed down over his nose.
"You need this man," Miguel told him. "There's some bad stuff around here. Bad air." He could see Tim and Lonnie and Jim behind the sensor chief. There was a long, high pitched scream coming from somewhere nearby, and it was very loud. But it felt good to be hearing something. He looked toward the noise and saw Dr. Smith, giving a curled up person a shot that made that person go quiet. Dagwood was glad. As good as it was to hear some not not-real thing, he didn't like that noise. It was a bad noise.
"Hey, Dagwood," Miguel said, having finished fixing the straps, slapping the Dagger on the shoulder, then pulling him into a close hug. Dagwood carefully returned the hug, knowing that he was stronger than the strongest human. The sensor chief was crying. Was he sad about something?
"You scared us so much," Lonnie complained, taking Miguel's place and hugging the Dagger tightly. Brody was having trouble controlling his face, while Tim was grinning broadly.
"Give him room, folks," Dr. Smith ordered coming up. She sounded severe, but her face was beaming. "I need to get some tubes out of him. Miguel, you stay and help me. The rest of you, finish clearing the ship." Dagwood looked down, surprised to find that he had things stuck in him.
"What happened?" he tried to say. "What were they doing to me? Why were they doing this to me." No sound came out. Lonnie, Tim and Jim backed out slowly, their eyes fixed happily on Dagwood. Dr. Smith and Miguel stayed and started helping Dagwood out of a thick flexible suit . A slight breeze touched his bare skin and he shivered a little , watching with delight as a bunch of goosebumps raised up on his arm. He smiled and tried to point it out, but he couldn't make his voice work. Patting Dr. Smith's shoulder, a frown on his face, Dagwood touched his throat and tried to speak again.
"That's why they had the inhibitor," Wendy Smith said, sounding angry. "Miguel, start dressing him in the clothes we found, I've got to find the antidote to this." She rummaged through her bag, then through the shelves in the adjoining room. "Got it!" There was a brief sting, and Dagwood was able to speak again. He asked his question.
"We don't know why they were doing this to you, Dagwood," Dr. Smith told him.
"But we'll find out," Commander Ford's voice answered grimly from the door. "Good to see you again, Dagwood. Doctor, the shuttle is ready to take you and Dagwood back to the seaQuest. Miquel, help her get him there, and then meet up with me. Between people asleep at their posts and people screaming in terror, we've still got a lot of cleaning up to do."
"They were very bad people," Dagwood said in solemn judgement after the commander moved away.
"Yeah, Dags," Miguel answered, leading him to the hatch. "They were very bad people. Come on. There are some very good people who will be very happy to see you again."
* * *
GELF Dagger, Dagwood, 8955145-ES-33, assigned at custodian to the UEO vessel seaQuest, DSV 4600 II, was kidnapped while on route to a family leave. He was taken onboard a French Scorpion sub, and tortured by immersion in a sensory deprivation tank and exposed to Skarst-wpb. According to records found at the site, the intention was to break Dagwood's mind, re-program him to sabotage the seaQuest and send him back again, to wait for the trigger. The captain of the sub and the doctor in charge of the torture both managed to escape. Evidence indicates that the captain of the renegade submarine was Marilyn Stark, formerly of the USN, and the doctor involved was Lars McLaren, a psychiatrist barred from practicing due to the inhumanity of his experimental treatments. Both are still at large.
excerpted from the logbook of the UEO vessel seaQuest.
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Credendo vides. Quaerendo invenietis.
"Bad sinks. The Future floats." Darwin
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Title: Nightmares
Author/pseudonym: katirene (XMP)
Rating: PG for content
Pairing: not applicable
Date: 05 - 03- 2000
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Amblin Television and Universal
Television series "seaQuest DSV", created by Rockne S. O'Bannon. There
is no intention of profitting off the series, and I've never made a dime from any
of the stories I've written using their property.
Summary: Dagwood is in trouble and Darwin goes to the rescue
Warnings: This story is based on several nightmares that I had, and so is rather disturbing to me. There is no blood and no deaths, except delusional. There are scenes of psychological and chemical torture.
Comments: I had a dream some time back, that I mentioned briefly on list and transferred to another, unknowingly. This is my attempt to exorcise that nightmare. So, this one is for Margaret.
Furthermore, I'm assuming that the language of humans to Darwin would sound as simplistic as his sounds to us, and that names or titles would have a single "meaning" attached to them for a single person. Hence, whether someone calls Captain Bridger, that, or Captain or even sir, Darwin would hear 'Bridger'. I mean no disrespect by it, nor am I trying to imply anything about the character that Darwin hears speaking. ---ki (XMP)
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Nightmares
by katirene (XMP)
Ummm, Lucas? Tony? Darwin?
Dagwood thought he was speaking. He meant to call his friends, but how could they hear him when he couldn't even hear himself? Dagwood wasn't even sure that he was himself.
There was nothing to see. Not black, like night or closets, but grey nothing. When he tried to move his arms and legs, he couldn't tell if they did or not. He didn't like that. Nervously,
Dagwood tried to swallow, but he couldn't even tell if he'd done that. There was no sensation, no smell, nothing.
Dagwood didn't like being in this place. This no-place. He wanted to be back on the seaQuest, where he was safe.
Guys? Where are you?
He paused, wondering. If no one heard him, was he making any sound? And if he wasn't, then how could they answer? That reminded him of something that Tony had once told him. That a tree falling in the middle of the forest with no one around to hear it fall, didn't make any noise. Miguel said that Tony was full of what made the grass grow green, but Dagwood didn't think so. Tony wasn't green, he was a sort of brownish-pinkish colour.
For a while, Dagwood amused himself thinking about his friends and the colours they were, comparing them to the patches of colour on his own skin. He thought a smile at this, because it made him feel that his friends were a part of him, and that they were with him. Here. In this no-place. Then he frowned. Thinking carefully, Dagwood tried to speak again.
And where is Dagwood?
* * *
"The subject is awake, doctor," the crisply white coated lab tech announced, recording the dial read-outs into the casebook.
"Excellent. Excellent. I'll tell the captain directly. And how is our guest reacting to our hospitality?" Dr. Lars McLaren gazed through the thick plate glass tank wall at the rubber-garbed behemoth floating in the center of the heavy salt water, the density carefully calculated to maintain his position. A airhose extruded from one end, and waste tubing from the other. Dr. McLaren had no intention of aborting the experiment until he had achieved his purpose.
"Disoriented. Frightened. Worried." Sam Beck raised one shoulder to indicate her indifference. "Pretty normal responses to this stage of the process. He trying to talk, but the larnyx inhibitor is working perfectly."
"Too bad the principal stipulated no physical damage," the psychiatrist mused sadly. "I'm not sure that the dampening field is really an effective method to eliminate the sound of blood rushing." Beck shrugged again. "Well no matter. Now, Ms. Beck, it is important to keep scrupulous records of all this. No skipping steps or fudging. Nobody has ever done anything like this with a Dagger before, and there's no way of telling when he will slip into the second stage. It could be days. Daggers were designed to resist coercion, after all."
Idiot show-off male! Sam thought, but her voice was properly respectful as she pointed out, "This one is defective sir."
"Which might make it even longer, Ms. Beck. After all, sensory deprivation has proved far less effective on less intelligent, less well adjusted individuals. And this one definitely qualifies as less intelligent." He smiled, a smug, patronizing expression on his face, and the tech's hand itched to slap his male dominant face. Someday, she promised herself, she'd show him. Taking her silence for agreement, Dr. McLaren went to inform the the captain that it had begun.
* * *
Dagwood wished that he could hear something, or touch something, or see something. He felt trapped, like Winnie the Pooh inside Rabbit's front door. Dagwood liked that image, and he decided to remember the whole story, because there was nothing else to do. Lucas and Darwin would come to get him soon, he knew, if he waited long enough.
And even though he couldn't hear himself, he started as the storyteller had always started when she read the book to him, singing softly, "Deep in the hundred acre wood..."
* * *
Beck frowned at the dials, surprised to see that the subject's vital signs were settling down to normal. In fact ... She straightened up and gazed out at the figure in the pool. He'd fallen asleep? With a sigh and a shrug, she recorded the fact and then got up. Might as well get some coffee. As Dr. McJerk said, it looked like it was going to be a long wait.
* * *
Darwin, dolphin and resident xenobiologist of the seaQuest, even if none of the human crew were aware of his position, was worried. He told himself that there was nothing to worry about, but the inchoate apprehension continued to grow on him. He began to swim through the boat, checking up on his charges, especially those for whom he felt a decided affection. Bridger was in his quarters, talking to the picture of his dead mate. Darwin paused briefly, sensing again the deep sadness that his pet felt when he remembered his woman. The dolphin scientist had had hopes, a few years back, that Bridger would take another mate, but nothing had come of that. Relieving his emotions with sigh, a sad stream of bubbles streaming out behind him, Darwin moved on, to find out where the rest of the crew was located.
* * *
Dagwood woke up with a start. Or at least, he thought he did. But he wasn't sure. He wasn't really sure of anything. This no place he was made him feel the same way he had when everyone thought that he had killed the man that the picture said that he had, but he hadn't. He was Dagwood, but he wasn't Dagwood, because Dagwood had two feet and two legs and a body and two arms and two hands and a neck and a head and two eyes and one nose and one mouth and two ears. And this Dagwood didn't.
He spent a while thinking about all the things that he had two of and the things that he had one of and wondering why that was so. Why did Dagwood have two eyes, but only one nose? He thought that he could see better than he could smell, but if he had two noses, could he smell twice as well? And it would be fun to have two mouths, one to eat with and one to talk with. After a little thought, though, Dagwood decided that one mouth was better. It would make him feel very confused trying to remember which one he used for which thing.
Then he forgot all that because he could see something. A little bit of colour. No, a lot of colour. A Dagger's worth of colour. Dagwood could see Dagwood, and his happiness turned to horror because that Dagwood had his face all scrambled up with mouths on top and bottom and eyes for ears and....
With a moaning cry, Dagwood tried to close his eyes but it just stayed there, making noises and coming closer. If it touched him, he wouldn't be any kind of Dagwood any more.
But it didn't touch Dagwood. Instead, the other Dagwood's face started to swirl around and around, the eyes and the mouths and the noses and the ears and everything getting all mixed up and then it exploded all over no-thing and Dagwood screamed as loudly as he could.
DARWIN!
* * *
Darwin swam back to the Moonpool, still uneasy, despite the fact that every member of the pod was where it was supposed to be. Except for Dagwood, of course. Dagwood wanted to visit his niece on the Dagger Island and Bridger had given him permission. As if the thought of the big, gentle giant had opened a channel, the dolphin *heard* Dagwood cry out his name.
*Dagwood* he called back, but the link was lost.
"Dagwood not here," Lucas, the young one with the blonde head fur, said. "Went visit family. Back four, eight tides." Darwin realized that he must have called aloud to his friend.
"I know that Dagwood's not here," he answered as patiently as possible. It didn't do to show anger to these creatures. They were just like children sometimes and didn't understand much. "But I think Dagwood's in trouble."
"Trouble?" the almost grown calf repeated. "What trouble?"
"I don't know," the dolphin answered. "Perhaps you should call the Dagger Island and find out?" He'd do it himself, but the creatures weren't clever enough to create one of their long distance speaking devices that Darwin could use, and they weren't able to speak over a distance to one another without them.
"Lucas try," he answered, flashing his rather inadequate teeth in faint imitation of delphine humour. Unfolding himself from the floor, where he was fiddling with a breathing apparatus, Lucas left the room. Knowing that the young human would call from his own quarters, Darwin swam through the corridors until he arrived there, peering over the mussed up bed on which this friend slept, trying to see the screen of his seeing box.
The picture was of a brightly patterned Dagger. Darwin approved of the markings on this type of human. Much more satisfying than the monochromatic appearance of all others. He couldn't hear what was said through the glass, but he understood their expressions well enough to know that the Dagger speaking was saying no, and looking sad. Lucas made the picture dark and threw himself up on the bed, switching on the speaker.
"Sorry Darwin. Dagger say Dagwood not come. Say seaQuest call say Dagwood need to stay here, do wuk. Lucas go ask Bridger. Maybe Bridger know why Dagwood come back." Switching it off again, he bounced to the ground and ran off. Darwin remained in one place, thinking deeply. Dagwood was in trouble and needed help. And he needed it soon. As always, it was up to Darwin to save the day.
* * *
Beck was startled aware by the thrashing form in the tank. With a mild curse, she noticed that the idiot had pulled out one of his waste lines. Quickly she pressed the valve that released sophoric gas into the breathing tube before the Dagger pulled out any more of them. She scowled as the thing in the tank slowly grew still, annoyed because this meant she'd have to get suited up and go in there to fix things. It wasn't fair, she grumbled. She'd been the one to prep the specimen for the experiment and now she had to go in and move him around in that thick, warm soup mixture, inserting the catheter back in place and making sure that his air line was clear. She hated the feel of the liquid on her skin through the wet suit, as if it weren't there, deadening everything. She finished recording the data, then with an angry sigh, went to fix the hoses before he asphixiated or something. And in her irritation, she forgot to wonder at the speed at which he'd passed into stage two.
* * *
Darwin felt a sense of pride through his concern. Bridger had immediately seen the implications of Dagwood being absent, and being an honourable creature, he was doing his best to find the large Dagger, calling different stations on the journey that Dagwood had taken. Darwin stayed on the bridge, watching, listening and calling encouragement.
Wendy, a female of the species with dark, long head fur, had closed her eyes and was concentrating outward, trying to locate the missing crewmember, while Darwin took care to shield his own from her search. She shook her head. "Sorry Bridger," he heard the female say sorrowfully. "Wendy can't hear him."
"Maybe Dagwood is asleep," Darwin offered. Bridger nodded, pointing one finger at the aquatic mammal.
"Bridger think Darwin right," he said simply. "Wendy try later?" She nodded. Darwin nodded his head as well. He had no intention of stopping the search until he'd regained that contact. Before he ducked down, though, he heard Bridger order, "Take seaQuest to place Dagwood last seen. seaQuest check on him." There were no questions, no demurrals. Darwin again felt proud of his humans, and felt a sense of sorrow that not all humans were so dolphin-like.
* * *
"Give him the antidote!" Dr. McLaren ordered harshly. "How dare you take it on yourself to sedate the subject?" Resentfully, Beck did as directed, fuming inwardly at the masculine arrogance of this dog. "I told you to inform me the minute his condition changed," he went on. "Not knock him out. There's no telling how far back you've put him." The Dagger's heart rate and respiration slowly increased as consciousness returned.
"But I had to untangle the lines, sir, and fix up the waste catheter." Beck despised herself for that sir, and hated having to try to justify her actions to him. It was too bad she couldn't report directly to the captain. Now that was something that she would definitely enjoy. But she had to admit that the goat might have a point. The subject was a lot calmer now.
* * *
Dagwood wondered again where he was, and how he had gotten there. He remembered that he'd been on his way to visit his niece and meet his other new nieces and nephews. He remembered going to the place where the boat he was supposed to take to Dagger Island was docked. It was a Navy boat, and he'd gotten off a Navy boat, but to get from one place to another, he had to walk off base and then back on. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, a breeze was blowing and there were flowers dancing among themselves trying to listen to the music rippling through their leaves. Dagwood had enjoyed the walk. Then someone had stopped him and asked him for directions and Dagwood had had to say that he didn't know where that was. He only knew how to get from one dock to another because he had studied that.
Try as he might, Dagwood couldn't remember anything after he told the man that he didn't know how to get to Chamberlin Ave. At least, not until he woke up here. Or, not-here. Dagwood was very confused. He wished that Lucas was not-here so that he could explain what was happening. Or not-happening. Lucas knew many things. Lucas was Dagwood's friend. Dagwood had many friends. He had Lucas and Darwin and Tim and Miguel and Donny and Ari and Trey and Lonnie and Commander Ford and Captain Bridger and Dr. Smith and ... Smiling happily to himself, Dagwood counted through the entire crew of the seaQuest.
* * *
"Damn! I was afraid this would happen," Dr. McLaren snarled at the dials. "Your idiot reaction gave him the time he needed to recovert." He sighed, visibly came to a decision. "Ok, add a dose of Skarst-wpb to his air supply."
"Skarst-wpb, sir? Are you sure? That stuff is powerful."
"I know, you idiot. I'm the one who ordered it. Now do what I tell you or I'll make sure you never get another job in a lab. Not even washing bottles." Fuming, Beck added a minute amount of the potentially fatal drug to the air mix. Skarst-wpb had been responsible in a number of "accidental" heart attacks, and a number of those exposed to it had had to be committed to mental hospitals. Literally, it frightened people out of their minds. Dr. McLaren leaned over her shoulder and impatiently pressed the increased dosage button again.
"I want him prepared, Ms. Beck," he said, touching it again. "Frightened, not just upset." Beck pulled his hand away before he could increase the dose of the drug a fourth time.
"You'll kill him sir," she protested.
"Nonsense. He's a big boy. He needs a big dose." But the doctor backed away, and studied the dials with interest.
* * *
Dagwood was imagining all of his friends had come to take him home and he was back on the seaQuest. But then he smelled something. Something nasty. Something horrible. And in his imagination, he looked around and found that he was still on the seaQuest, but nobody seemed happy to see him. They were all sitting, slumped over, or fallen to the floor. He went to the pool, looking for Darwin.
A hand fell on Dagwood's shoulder and bits of it fell even further down Dagwood's shirt, falling off in bits. Dagwood turned around. Commander Ford stood there, and he had a big hole on the side of his face. Dagwood could see Commander Ford's teeth through his cheek.
"You did this, Dagwood," the commander said. "If you had been here, you could have saved us."
No. No. I didn't know. What happened?
He backed away, into Captain Bridger. The captain had no eyes, but he still looked at the Dagger. "You should have been here, Dagwood. You could have prevented this."
No. No. You aren't dead. You can't be dead.
"Yes," Ensign Adler answered him, holding her guts in place with her hands, trying to keep the long slimey tubes inside her stomach. "We are all dead. All dead."
No!
Dagwood ran from the bridge. If he could find Darwin, it would be all better. He had to find Darwin.
* * *
Dr. McLaren smiled unpleasantly at the signs of acute anxiety on the part of their involuntary guest. "Leave him like that for half an hour, then administer the antidote."
"Half an hour? Are you sure? You gave him a triple dose. What if he goes into heart arrest?"
"I'm the doctor here, aren't I? Our captain wants results and wants them soonest. We don't have time to break this dummy down the slow way."
So, the captain's on your back, Beck thought with a sense of mean satisfaction. I hope she gives you hell, you sadistic son of a bastard. She continued to monitor the Dagger's descent into madness.
* * *
Dagwood finally found Darwin and he was in the Moonpool. There wasn't any nasty smells in here, but the dolphin was floating on his back. Afraid, Dagwood jumped into the pool and turned his friend over, trying to get him upright. Then he saw that Darwin was just as dead as the rest. All of Dagwood's friends, all dead and it was all Dagwood's fault. The mighty Dagger threw back his head and howled as loudly as he could.
DARWIN!
*darwin here where dagwood*
I DON'T KNOW! NO PLACE!
*darwin not understand where no place*
DAGWOOD DOESN'T KNOW. DAGWOOD NOT-HERE IN NO PLACE.
There was another funny smell and Dagwood felt the other slipping away.
DARWIN!
*darwin be ...*
Dagwood thought that if he had a body, he would be crying. He felt even sadder that he couldn't cry.
* * *
Muttering to herself, Beck waited to see the effect of the antidote, in case more was needed. McLaren could talk about leaving this poor beast to suffer for thirty minutes, but she'd be damned if she'd be his agent in it. Besides, it wasn't possible, but the Dagger had actually started calming down before she'd administered the dose. Writing down the figures on the readouts, Beck wondered if McLaren really did know what he thought he did.
* * *
Darwin hurried back to the bridge. "Bridger! Bridger!" he squealed excitedly.
His pet rushed to him, rubbing his melon the way he liked it best. "What wrong, old friend?" he asked genially.
"You mean, 'What's right!' I *heard* Dagwood. He says he in a place that's no place but he isn't there either." Darwin stopped short. He'd been so excited about the contact that he hadn't thought it through. "How can Dagwood not be in a no place?" he mused aloud.
Wendy walked up, her eyes wide and staring. "That way Avatar describe his coma," she said. "Not really exist in a place couldn't be."
"Wendy think Dagwood in coma?" Bridger asked, and Darwin could hear the doubt in his voice, but only because he knew this human so well.
"Maybe. Or maybe something else. Darwin, tell Wendy next time you hear Dagwood. Please?" Darwin nodded. She turned back to Bridger. "Wendy need to find something. Wendy tell Bridger more later. Ok?"
"As soon as Wendy know something. Wendy tell Bridger!" the grizzled furred human repeated emphatically.
"Wendy promise." And the young female human left the bridge quickly.
"Darwin, old friend," Bridger said, scratching his snout again. "Bridger try to find Dagwood. Darwin tell Bridger where to go." Darwin nodded.
"I'll let you know as soon as I know. There has to be something that can help us." Bridger sighed and murmured something that sounded like "one men" but Darwin took it for affirmative and dove down, seeking the outer door to the boat. He wanted to find the nearest pod and set them searching. It was a matter of known fact that a full pod working together is far more powerful than the simple addition of the same number of dolphins working independently.
* * *
*dagwood?*
Dagwood was no longer sure what was real and what was not, because no-thing was real and everything was not-real. He was afraid that the voice he heard in his mind was not-real.
*dagwood can you hear me?*
Darwin, is that you?
*dagwood! yes, this is darwin. keep talking to me. i need to figure out where you are.*
How? What should I say?
*anything. sing me a song, tell a story, just keep talking directly at me.*
There was a pause, then a different voice, a little like Darwin's but not quite, said in a loud voice in Dagwood's head, *SING THE SONG THAT THE SINGER SANG*
Obediently, unable to hear himself, Dagwood sang the song.
To ease her grief with comfort to say ... something
To turn her hurt and her pain away, sighs ... often
His heart being full of his great love, most deeply
and still the gods give orders.
He obeys them, he goes down to his fleet... to his fleet.
* * *
Darwin raced back to the seaQuest. The pod had a fix on Dagwood's mind and were triangulating on his position, now it was up to him to get the seaQuest there. He waited impatiently while the sea door opened. then sped through the boat. He found the bridge in a state of excitement.
"Miguel tell you, hears Dagwood," the burly, muscular male was insisting. His not quite mate stood beside him, nodding vigourously in concert with Tim, another male.
"Tim and Ari hear him too," the smaller female claimed.
"And so do I," Darwin said, abruptly entering the conversation. "Bridger, I'll have some information in just a few waves." He felt, rather than heard, the other dolphins, sharing their findings with him. "Dagwood is nearby, in a small, very quiet sub to the sunside of seaQuest."
"Miguel, Ari, find that sub." The two quickly took their stations, their movements meshing beautifully as their minds worked in tandem. Darwin allowed the sight to distract him momentarily from his worry. He had such hopes for their off-spring. If only he could persuade them to get down to breeding. He sighed.
"seaQuest will find Dagwood, old friend," Bridger said reassuringly, rubbing the side of Darwin's head. Darwin leaned into the caress. He did love these creatures, he thought. They were so very adorable in their helplessness.
"Ari and Miguel have it!" the man announced suddenly. His female rattled off the coordinates as a WSKRS view appeared on screen.
"French Scorpion, alcohol based fuel engine. Not cheap," Bridger mused. "But very quiet. Bridger wonder who did this."
"Fish in water," Miguel reported, as a long metal shape emerged from the other sub and grew into the screen which suddenly went black. Another view appeared, from further away. "WSKRS gone. Other sub know seaQuest coming."
"Follow!"
* * *
Beck cursed as the sub suddenly curvetted to one side, tipping her over. Then she gasped in horror. The valve of Skarst-wpb was stuck on, and the hose had come off. Moaning with terror, she cowered away from the on-rushing demons. She didn't see the far end of the soporific gas pull away from the air mix assembly and fling up and the sub swerved again, jamming against an intership air vent.
* * *
Dagwood felt something. Some real thing, not some not-real thing. He felt it again and thought about raising his hand, feeling the real thing. It felt like a wall. Dagwood began to explore the real thing that felt like a wall, finding a corner and another and another and another and... He wondered how many corners there were.
* * *
"Fish in the water. Two fish. Bearing 0 1 9." Miguel reported again. Darwin wished that they wouldn't call torpedoes 'fish'. It always made him feel hungry. And he always felt hungry when he was afraid anyway.
"Evade, Commander. Brody, launch decoys." Bridger knew what to do.
"Decoys away."
"seaQuest have firing answer?" The question was hard on Brody's comment.
"Not yet," Ari answered, then "Yes." She gave it to Brody.
"Enemy torpedos miss." Tim announced.
"Flood tubes 2 and 4." Bridger ordered. Brody sent the command on and then replied.
"Tubes 2 and 4 flooded."
"Aim for propellers. Fire number two."
"Number two away." Brody answered.
"Fire number four," Bridger ordered.
"Number four away."
"Close tubes and reload. Target acquired Tim?"
"Other sub trying evasion. Number two acquire target. Number four acquire target. Impact in 5 ... 4... 3... 2... 1... Impact, number two. Impact number four."
"Damage report."
"Direct hit propeller."
"Let's reel other sub in, folks."
Darwin slipped off the bridge and out of the boat, wanting to see for himself. And so, he was saw the small stealth vehicle zoom away from the wrecked sub.
* * *
Dagwood felt real hands on him, pulling him and he let them, too happy to feel any real thing to complain. Light hit his eyes and he almost screamed at the sight of the monster looking down at him. Then he recognized Miguel's eyes behind a face mask, and another mask was pressed down over his nose.
"You need this man," Miguel told him. "There's some bad stuff around here. Bad air." He could see Tim and Lonnie and Jim behind the sensor chief. There was a long, high pitched scream coming from somewhere nearby, and it was very loud. But it felt good to be hearing something. He looked toward the noise and saw Dr. Smith, giving a curled up person a shot that made that person go quiet. Dagwood was glad. As good as it was to hear some not not-real thing, he didn't like that noise. It was a bad noise.
"Hey, Dagwood," Miguel said, having finished fixing the straps, slapping the Dagger on the shoulder, then pulling him into a close hug. Dagwood carefully returned the hug, knowing that he was stronger than the strongest human. The sensor chief was crying. Was he sad about something?
"You scared us so much," Lonnie complained, taking Miguel's place and hugging the Dagger tightly. Brody was having trouble controlling his face, while Tim was grinning broadly.
"Give him room, folks," Dr. Smith ordered coming up. She sounded severe, but her face was beaming. "I need to get some tubes out of him. Miguel, you stay and help me. The rest of you, finish clearing the ship." Dagwood looked down, surprised to find that he had things stuck in him.
"What happened?" he tried to say. "What were they doing to me? Why were they doing this to me." No sound came out. Lonnie, Tim and Jim backed out slowly, their eyes fixed happily on Dagwood. Dr. Smith and Miguel stayed and started helping Dagwood out of a thick flexible suit . A slight breeze touched his bare skin and he shivered a little , watching with delight as a bunch of goosebumps raised up on his arm. He smiled and tried to point it out, but he couldn't make his voice work. Patting Dr. Smith's shoulder, a frown on his face, Dagwood touched his throat and tried to speak again.
"That's why they had the inhibitor," Wendy Smith said, sounding angry. "Miguel, start dressing him in the clothes we found, I've got to find the antidote to this." She rummaged through her bag, then through the shelves in the adjoining room. "Got it!" There was a brief sting, and Dagwood was able to speak again. He asked his question.
"We don't know why they were doing this to you, Dagwood," Dr. Smith told him.
"But we'll find out," Commander Ford's voice answered grimly from the door. "Good to see you again, Dagwood. Doctor, the shuttle is ready to take you and Dagwood back to the seaQuest. Miquel, help her get him there, and then meet up with me. Between people asleep at their posts and people screaming in terror, we've still got a lot of cleaning up to do."
"They were very bad people," Dagwood said in solemn judgement after the commander moved away.
"Yeah, Dags," Miguel answered, leading him to the hatch. "They were very bad people. Come on. There are some very good people who will be very happy to see you again."
* * *
GELF Dagger, Dagwood, 8955145-ES-33, assigned at custodian to the UEO vessel seaQuest, DSV 4600 II, was kidnapped while on route to a family leave. He was taken onboard a French Scorpion sub, and tortured by immersion in a sensory deprivation tank and exposed to Skarst-wpb. According to records found at the site, the intention was to break Dagwood's mind, re-program him to sabotage the seaQuest and send him back again, to wait for the trigger. The captain of the sub and the doctor in charge of the torture both managed to escape. Evidence indicates that the captain of the renegade submarine was Marilyn Stark, formerly of the USN, and the doctor involved was Lars McLaren, a psychiatrist barred from practicing due to the inhumanity of his experimental treatments. Both are still at large.
excerpted from the logbook of the UEO vessel seaQuest.
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Credendo vides. Quaerendo invenietis.
"Bad sinks. The Future floats." Darwin