The Dreamweb, Part 17
Part 17
Thomas and Tetra walked quickly, trying to ignore the beady eyes that stared at them from all directions. The rats were a curious lot, but also fiercely protective of their territory. It had taken them years to accept Thomas, and now he was bringing in a stranger. Nearly everyone in the city had witnessed Tetra jumping down the fifteen foot drop with seemingly no trouble at all.
The tension Tetra had caused was palpable, but Thomas tried to look as calm as possible. He knew full well that if they chose to, the children could rip them to shreds. Between Tetra and the machine gun they could probably put up quite a fight, but the rats were fully aware of the fact that they had the advantage of sheer numbers. Thomas could only hope that their respect for him and uncertainty about Tetra’s power would keep them at bay, at least until he had spoken to their leader.
Finally they reached their destination, the only building in Muripolis made entirely of bricks. It was larger than the other hovels, although any attempt not to make it look like it was constructed of garbage and rubble like the rest of the buildings had failed miserably. Thomas and Tetra had to stoop low as they entered the child-sized palace, closely followed by the ever vigilant Scipula.
The inside of the building consisted of a single room, about nine feet wide and ten feet across. The room was lit by a few oil lamps and candles that cast flickering shadows on the irregular walls. Mismatched wooden planks were laid out across the floor. One side of the room was covered with a pile of blankets that seemed to be arranged in a crude nest. A low table standing near the far wall was arranged as a desk, complete with several pencil stubs and a stack of papers that contained the rudimentary administration system the rats used to keep track of resources.
Sitting behind the desk was the leader of the rats, a boy only a few years older than most of the children that called him their leader. Still, by their standards he was ancient, as the dangerous and violent lives the children led rarely lasted past the first few years of puberty. A long puckered scar run across the side of his face and all the way down his neck, just one of the many signs that his life hadn’t been every bit as violent as that of the other children.
Nobody knew the name his parents gave him. He had been called Reston by the other rats for as long as he could remember. More than anyone else in the gang he was a survivor, and it was only natural that he succeeded the previous leader when she mysteriously disappeared two years ago. Under his reign Muripolis had thrived. Outside of their territory, the gang had become less violent and more reliant on scavenging for their survival. Their territory itself was fiercely defended however, and any trespassers were usually attacked without warning. By choosing to be aggressive only when their territory was invaded, Reston had ensured that the rats were left mostly alone by the other inhabitants of the poverty-stricken city districts where they made their home.
Thomas had been one of the few strangers he had grudgingly allowed to travel through the rats’ territory. Tetra however was new, and newcomers were usually ‘encouraged’ to leave at their earliest convenience. It was only because of Thomas’ company that she hadn’t already been attacked. Still, unless something was negotiated now the peace wouldn’t last long.
Thomas stepped forward, signalling for Tetra to remain quiet. Just as he was about to speak Reston stood up, his beady eyes regarding him sharply. “She’s an outsider, and you’ve brought her into our city. Give me a good reason not to kill her now, or you for that matter.”
Thomas shrugged sheepishly, realizing that it would require more than just diplomacy to get what he wanted from Reston this time. He shrugged sheepishly as his left hand pulled his coat aside to reveal the weapon he was carrying under it for Reston to see. The boy shifted nervously. “Are you threatening me?”
“Maybe… or maybe I’m offering you payment…”
“Payment for what?”
“Payment for letting us stay inside the city for the next two or three days, for food and water, and for using two Dream machines.”
“You’ll have to come up with something better than that. I suppose the gun will be payment enough for allowing you two to live, but we’ll need more if you’re looking for shelter.”
Thomas nodded as he reached inside his coat. He pulled out a wad of bills, the remainder of the money Tetra had paid him for his work for the Facility. He put it on the table for Renton to count. When he was done he looked up at Thomas, nodding slowly. “Very well, Scipula will take you, but you’ll have to use your own ichor.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “Then it’s settled. You can keep the money, you’ll get the weapon when we leave.”
“I’m warning you Gaelen, you’re threading on thin ice and Scipula has been aching to flex her muscles a bit. Try anything funny, anything at all and I can promise you neither of you will leave our city alive.”
Thomas shrugged inwardly as he left Renton’s lair. Tetra seemed less at ease, and as they followed Scipula she leaned close to Thomas, whispering softly. “How can you trust these… children? They seem violent.”
Thomas nodded slowly, keeping his voice hushed. “They are, but they also have a strong sense of honour. A few years back I saved one of their leaders from a somewhat dangerous situation. Since then they’ve tolerated me in their territory, and occasionally even provided me with tips on cases I’ve been working on in return for food or money. I trust them not to touch us as long as we remain civil…”
Tetra nodded but didn’t seem convinced, even though Thomas seemed to be the only thing she had left to trust. She remained quiet as they followed Scipula, although she couldn’t help but notice that Thomas seemed to be trembling for some reason. Finally they arrived at their dwelling. It was a small tent at the edge of the city, isolated from the other hovels. Tetra and Thomas just barely fitted inside. Scipula told them that food, water and the requested machines would be delivered shortly, and that they were to stay put until then. After she left, Thomas could see the shadow of her broad shoulders cast on the canvas flap that acted as the door.
With a weary sigh Thomas sat down on the floor, which was covered with rough, uneven wooden planks. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts, but negotiating with Renton had sapped him of what was left of his mental reserves, and more than anything he wanted to Dream, just for a while, if only to forget his troubles. His muscles were aching, and the cold metal of the weapon he was carrying was pushing uncomfortably into his ribs. He folded his hands tightly together to stop them from trembling. Both his body and his mind ached to be connected to the Dreamweb again, although the desire had never been this painful before. Deep inside he knew that he was standing at the edge of the cliff, one step away from losing himself completely. He knew that he was supposed to care about this somehow, but at the moment he felt incredibly blank about it. He wondered if he should just shoot himself in the face right now, although he doubted if his hands could hold his weapon steady enough.
Then, out of nowhere, he felt something soft brush against his face. It didn’t feel too warm, yet at the same time it was still comforting. Thomas opened his eyes, staring at the slender hand pressed against his cheek. He followed it upwards, along the arm wrapped in the ill-fitting shirt he had stolen from one of the cleaners, until his eyes met Tetra’s. He tried to define the emotion that was showing on her face, but he couldn’t decide whether it was curiosity or concern. He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around her pale wrist and slowly pulled the hand away.
“You are ill… this is not a good place to be ill.”
“I… I’ll be fine… they’ll bring something that’ll fix me…”
“The Dream machine?”
“Dream machines, plural. They’re bringing one for you too…”
“But I am no Dreamer, and I have no desire to become one…”
Thomas laughed hoarsely, a laugh that ended in a wheezing coughing fit. Finally he managed to recover his breath. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on kid… Besides, you said it yourself, you’re malfunctioning. There’s something wrong in that head of yours. The Dreamweb can help you with that… or at least help you forget about it for a while…”
Tetra shook her head slowly. “I was forbidden from using the Dreamweb. It is dangerous and addictive.”
Thomas laughed harshly. “Forbidden? By whom? The same people who are now out there trying to kill you? Kill me? I’d say they wouldn’t really care about whether you still followed their orders or not…”
Tetra opened and closed her mouth several times. She tried to respond, but there was something in Thomas’ voice that struck her deeply. Suddenly she felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and before she realized what was happening she sunk away, sobbing quietly. Thomas let out an annoyed sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you, or Claudia, or whoever it is in there crying. Do you think it’s at all possible for you to keep quiet for just a few more minutes? I’ll make you feel better, I promise…”
Tetra nodded slowly, still sobbing. She wasn’t sure if she was actually going to take Thomas up on his offer, but she didn’t feel like arguing any further. She tried to control herself, not wanting to upset Thomas further. She could only hope that when Thomas had had his chance to use the Dreamweb again, he’d feel better. She had no idea how she was going to survive the city without him.
Thomas and Tetra walked quickly, trying to ignore the beady eyes that stared at them from all directions. The rats were a curious lot, but also fiercely protective of their territory. It had taken them years to accept Thomas, and now he was bringing in a stranger. Nearly everyone in the city had witnessed Tetra jumping down the fifteen foot drop with seemingly no trouble at all.
The tension Tetra had caused was palpable, but Thomas tried to look as calm as possible. He knew full well that if they chose to, the children could rip them to shreds. Between Tetra and the machine gun they could probably put up quite a fight, but the rats were fully aware of the fact that they had the advantage of sheer numbers. Thomas could only hope that their respect for him and uncertainty about Tetra’s power would keep them at bay, at least until he had spoken to their leader.
Finally they reached their destination, the only building in Muripolis made entirely of bricks. It was larger than the other hovels, although any attempt not to make it look like it was constructed of garbage and rubble like the rest of the buildings had failed miserably. Thomas and Tetra had to stoop low as they entered the child-sized palace, closely followed by the ever vigilant Scipula.
The inside of the building consisted of a single room, about nine feet wide and ten feet across. The room was lit by a few oil lamps and candles that cast flickering shadows on the irregular walls. Mismatched wooden planks were laid out across the floor. One side of the room was covered with a pile of blankets that seemed to be arranged in a crude nest. A low table standing near the far wall was arranged as a desk, complete with several pencil stubs and a stack of papers that contained the rudimentary administration system the rats used to keep track of resources.
Sitting behind the desk was the leader of the rats, a boy only a few years older than most of the children that called him their leader. Still, by their standards he was ancient, as the dangerous and violent lives the children led rarely lasted past the first few years of puberty. A long puckered scar run across the side of his face and all the way down his neck, just one of the many signs that his life hadn’t been every bit as violent as that of the other children.
Nobody knew the name his parents gave him. He had been called Reston by the other rats for as long as he could remember. More than anyone else in the gang he was a survivor, and it was only natural that he succeeded the previous leader when she mysteriously disappeared two years ago. Under his reign Muripolis had thrived. Outside of their territory, the gang had become less violent and more reliant on scavenging for their survival. Their territory itself was fiercely defended however, and any trespassers were usually attacked without warning. By choosing to be aggressive only when their territory was invaded, Reston had ensured that the rats were left mostly alone by the other inhabitants of the poverty-stricken city districts where they made their home.
Thomas had been one of the few strangers he had grudgingly allowed to travel through the rats’ territory. Tetra however was new, and newcomers were usually ‘encouraged’ to leave at their earliest convenience. It was only because of Thomas’ company that she hadn’t already been attacked. Still, unless something was negotiated now the peace wouldn’t last long.
Thomas stepped forward, signalling for Tetra to remain quiet. Just as he was about to speak Reston stood up, his beady eyes regarding him sharply. “She’s an outsider, and you’ve brought her into our city. Give me a good reason not to kill her now, or you for that matter.”
Thomas shrugged sheepishly, realizing that it would require more than just diplomacy to get what he wanted from Reston this time. He shrugged sheepishly as his left hand pulled his coat aside to reveal the weapon he was carrying under it for Reston to see. The boy shifted nervously. “Are you threatening me?”
“Maybe… or maybe I’m offering you payment…”
“Payment for what?”
“Payment for letting us stay inside the city for the next two or three days, for food and water, and for using two Dream machines.”
“You’ll have to come up with something better than that. I suppose the gun will be payment enough for allowing you two to live, but we’ll need more if you’re looking for shelter.”
Thomas nodded as he reached inside his coat. He pulled out a wad of bills, the remainder of the money Tetra had paid him for his work for the Facility. He put it on the table for Renton to count. When he was done he looked up at Thomas, nodding slowly. “Very well, Scipula will take you, but you’ll have to use your own ichor.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “Then it’s settled. You can keep the money, you’ll get the weapon when we leave.”
“I’m warning you Gaelen, you’re threading on thin ice and Scipula has been aching to flex her muscles a bit. Try anything funny, anything at all and I can promise you neither of you will leave our city alive.”
Thomas shrugged inwardly as he left Renton’s lair. Tetra seemed less at ease, and as they followed Scipula she leaned close to Thomas, whispering softly. “How can you trust these… children? They seem violent.”
Thomas nodded slowly, keeping his voice hushed. “They are, but they also have a strong sense of honour. A few years back I saved one of their leaders from a somewhat dangerous situation. Since then they’ve tolerated me in their territory, and occasionally even provided me with tips on cases I’ve been working on in return for food or money. I trust them not to touch us as long as we remain civil…”
Tetra nodded but didn’t seem convinced, even though Thomas seemed to be the only thing she had left to trust. She remained quiet as they followed Scipula, although she couldn’t help but notice that Thomas seemed to be trembling for some reason. Finally they arrived at their dwelling. It was a small tent at the edge of the city, isolated from the other hovels. Tetra and Thomas just barely fitted inside. Scipula told them that food, water and the requested machines would be delivered shortly, and that they were to stay put until then. After she left, Thomas could see the shadow of her broad shoulders cast on the canvas flap that acted as the door.
With a weary sigh Thomas sat down on the floor, which was covered with rough, uneven wooden planks. He closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts, but negotiating with Renton had sapped him of what was left of his mental reserves, and more than anything he wanted to Dream, just for a while, if only to forget his troubles. His muscles were aching, and the cold metal of the weapon he was carrying was pushing uncomfortably into his ribs. He folded his hands tightly together to stop them from trembling. Both his body and his mind ached to be connected to the Dreamweb again, although the desire had never been this painful before. Deep inside he knew that he was standing at the edge of the cliff, one step away from losing himself completely. He knew that he was supposed to care about this somehow, but at the moment he felt incredibly blank about it. He wondered if he should just shoot himself in the face right now, although he doubted if his hands could hold his weapon steady enough.
Then, out of nowhere, he felt something soft brush against his face. It didn’t feel too warm, yet at the same time it was still comforting. Thomas opened his eyes, staring at the slender hand pressed against his cheek. He followed it upwards, along the arm wrapped in the ill-fitting shirt he had stolen from one of the cleaners, until his eyes met Tetra’s. He tried to define the emotion that was showing on her face, but he couldn’t decide whether it was curiosity or concern. He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around her pale wrist and slowly pulled the hand away.
“You are ill… this is not a good place to be ill.”
“I… I’ll be fine… they’ll bring something that’ll fix me…”
“The Dream machine?”
“Dream machines, plural. They’re bringing one for you too…”
“But I am no Dreamer, and I have no desire to become one…”
Thomas laughed hoarsely, a laugh that ended in a wheezing coughing fit. Finally he managed to recover his breath. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on kid… Besides, you said it yourself, you’re malfunctioning. There’s something wrong in that head of yours. The Dreamweb can help you with that… or at least help you forget about it for a while…”
Tetra shook her head slowly. “I was forbidden from using the Dreamweb. It is dangerous and addictive.”
Thomas laughed harshly. “Forbidden? By whom? The same people who are now out there trying to kill you? Kill me? I’d say they wouldn’t really care about whether you still followed their orders or not…”
Tetra opened and closed her mouth several times. She tried to respond, but there was something in Thomas’ voice that struck her deeply. Suddenly she felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and before she realized what was happening she sunk away, sobbing quietly. Thomas let out an annoyed sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you, or Claudia, or whoever it is in there crying. Do you think it’s at all possible for you to keep quiet for just a few more minutes? I’ll make you feel better, I promise…”
Tetra nodded slowly, still sobbing. She wasn’t sure if she was actually going to take Thomas up on his offer, but she didn’t feel like arguing any further. She tried to control herself, not wanting to upset Thomas further. She could only hope that when Thomas had had his chance to use the Dreamweb again, he’d feel better. She had no idea how she was going to survive the city without him.