Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga (62 page)

He had answers to something, I could feel
it. But I wasn’t asking the right questions, that’s what he wanted
me to know. I think. Had he become some brat smirking behind his
hand while he watched me step into an obvious trap, milking every
second of joy from my immediate future? Am I walking into it? Is he
leading me there? Is this part of it?

Get a hold of yourself!

I dropped my feet and rubbed at my tired
face. I really needed sleep, this was no way to deal with problems.
But I’d just end up staring at the ceiling. And I couldn’t let this
go.
If I’m going to obsess, may as well stop half-assing
it.

“Show me Pike,” I said.

The maze of wormholes evaporated, leaving a
wide open blank space between my desk and the opposite wall. An
image flickered a few feet in front of me, then materialized into a
solid projection of a figure slumped in a chair. This was simply a
projection of what Pike was doing at that moment. He couldn’t see
me. Didn’t know I was watching.

I paced around the desk. The three minders
solidified in front of me, like immovable objects staring at the
back of Pike’s bald head. Pike was hunched over with his legs
folded under him, swaying back and forth like a mental patient. The
ever-present string of drool jiggled off his lip while he mumbled.
His glasses had fallen off, lying in his lap, exposing the
sightless eyeballs that were filled with red veins.

I knelt in front of him. This is how he
spent his endless days. There was no sleep. No exercise. Just
second after second of the minders frying his mind like a
microwave.

Showtime
. What’d he mean by that? Out
of everything he said, that stuck with me, like he knew something
was coming. Something to do with Pivot. Or was he just clever
enough to make me think he did, because there was no way this
secluded madman could know anything.

I paced around the empty office, leisurely
throwing each foot in front of the other while I stared at the
black floor. It was dark at the far end, barely lit by the image of
Pike muttering near my desk.

What makes you believe that’s you?

The space brightened around me as I called
up the vision. Weeds sprouted from the floor between rising
boulders. The rose in Chute’s wrinkled hand. I walked around to
look into our faces. The traces of white hair, thinner and
receding, covered most of my head. How could that not be me? But
now he had me wondering. I looked back at the image of Pike, still
wavering. Still mumbling.

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

So does Pike escape?

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

“See Chute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pike was back into his moaning rhythm
again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow. Right now I need to sit.”

“If I may suggest—”

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

“Very well.”

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

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

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

L E G E N D

Lost in Space

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do not sleep, Master Socket.”

“I know.”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“I know what a wormhole feels like.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Spindle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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