Steven Harper - Nightmare

Marco vanished with another pop .

"Little time left in the Dream," Rashid repeated. "I take it your drugs are wearing off?"

"In about five minutes," Ara confessed. "We’ll have to be quick."

"Marco already explained to me the basics of your case." Rashid looked about the manicured lawn as if he were missing something.

"Your pardon," Ara said, and quickly produced a chair for him out of thin air. He took it.

"Almost exactly ten years ago," Rashid continued, "four women connected with Dreamers, Inc., died. Levels of psytonin in their brains indicated they were in the Dream when it happened. The first one was missing the little finger on her left hand. The second woman was found also missing her left little finger, and the finger of the first woman was sewn on in its place, and so on. This was when I was a chief investigator, before I took my current position, and the case was assigned to me. Unfortunately, we had-still have-no suspects."

Tan was on her feet again, eyes flashing. "Wait! The first woman was only missing a finger? One wasn’t sewn on?"

"That’s correct."

"Then she might have been the first victim!" Tan said. "A big lead!"

"What?" Ara said. "Why?"

"A serial killer’s first victim is usually someone the killer knows," Tan explained. "If we can get a list of people the first victim knew and compare it with a list of Silent who have been on Bellerophon since the killings started there, we might be able to pin down a name."

"Possibly," Rashid said. "Assuming, of course, that the killer hasn’t changed his name."

"Or hers," Tan muttered.

"Chief Rashid," Ara said, "have you ever seen this woman?" She gestured and a hologram of Dorna Saline hovered in the air before Rashid’s chair. The features were a bit blurred-recreating faces in the Dream was difficult for most Silent since it required tremendous concentration and a bit of artistic skill, and while Ara had the first, she had only a bit of the second.

Rashid studied the image thoughtfully. "I don’t believe so," he said at last. "Though the likeness-my apologies if I seem rude-isn’t going to be exact. Who is she?"

"We think she’s connected to the case," Tan told him.

Ara fidgeted on the lip of the fountain. Her drugs were nearing the end of their course and she would have to leave the Dream soon or be yanked out of it, and right now it wouldn’t be convenient to spend two or three days in bed recovering from the shock.

"Chief," Tan said, "we need to compare notes. The Dream isn’t a good medium for transmitting images, and we need to spend more time talking than our drugs will allow. Can we visit you in person?"

"Of course," Rashid replied promptly. "This case has …nibbled at me for years, Inspector, and I would love nothing more than to solve it." Something flashed behind his eyes, but Ara couldn’t place what it was.

"You are at the headquarters station for Dreamers, then?" Tan said.

"I am. I will instruct my people to look for you."

The itch grew so strong Ara couldn’t remain still. "Chief, I’m sorry but I have to go. I look forward to meeting you in person."

Rashid rose from his chair and gave a little bow. "As do I, Mother."

Ara summoned her concentration and released the Dream.

"But I’m involved ," Kendi wailed. "I should be there."

"Absolutely not." Ara pressed the seals on her bulging suitcase. The bag shut with a hiss. "There won’t be anything for you to do. Besides, you have school. You’ve been a big help, Kendi, and I promise to let you know everything I can, but we don’t need you along on this one."

"You mean you don’t need a mere student," Kendi growled.

"If it makes you feel better to pout, go right ahead," Ara said heartlessly. "I should be back in a couple of weeks. My sister and brother-in-law will come by every so often to check on you. Don’t go anywhere by yourself, understand?"

Kendi gave her a sidelong look. "You don’t want me to be alone because it’s not safe?"

"That’s right." Ara rummaged through a carryall. Toothbrush, hairbrush, comb, dermosprays, everything there. Had she packed sleeping clothes?

"Safety in numbers and all that, huh?"

"Absolutely." Carryall, suitcase, bookdisks, computer pad. Was her itinerary in the pad? Oh, yes. "Safety in numbers."

"And the more numbers, the better?"

"Yes, yes." Should she take a jacket? Probably. Dreamers, Inc., was headquartered on its own space station, and she usually found the stations a bit chilly.

"Okay. Have a nice trip, then."

Ara said good-bye to Ben-he barely paused in his workout to acknowledge her-and bundled her things outside. Kendi waved his farewell as she shut the door. Something nagged at her as she stood on the deck, something Kendi had said or something Ara herself hadn’t said.

Nerves , she told herself. Stop being such a mother hen. They’ll be fine.

She might not have been so dismissive if she had been able to see the wide grin that stretched Kendi’s face.

The party was enormous. Loud music vibrated the floor and shook the rafters, and the rooms were crowded with brown-clad students. Kendi moved easily among them, dancing a bit here, trading palm slaps there. Ben watched with trepidation and not a little envy. Once again Kendi was the life of the party and Ben was relegated to the corner. He was nervous about the entire affair. Mom hadn’t specifically given permission for a party, no matter what Kendi tricked her into saying. Still, he had gone along with it because he found that lately he just couldn’t say no to Kendi. And, he had told himself, maybe someone else would talk to him because it was his house.

So far the latter hadn’t happened. Ben seemed to fade naturally into the woodwork and the partygoers ignored him after polite, dutiful greetings. Once the sun went down and the house began to fill up, Ben found himself in the same corner he had occupied at the Festival party where he had first met Kendi.

Kendi. Ben closed his eyes. He still couldn’t figure it out. Things had been cool between them since the fight, and Ben knew himself well enough to realize that he had used it as an excuse to push Kendi away. And Ben found he hated it. Not even the news that Zayim and Tress had gotten twenty whole hours of extra work detail made him feel better. Ben wanted to be close to Kendi, ached to be so. And he didn’t understand why he felt that way.

Music continued to throb. Ben shot a nervous glance at the computer speakers. Was it too loud? It would be all he needed to have the Guardians show up and cite him for a loud party. Maybe he should tell the computer to lower the volume, but gradually so no one would-

Ben stiffened. His mouth went dry and his stomach twisted inside him. A ghostly face had appeared at the window. Long, curly dark hair, emerald eyes, pixie features. Dorna. Her eyes met his and she gestured to him. Ben didn’t know what to do. Call the Guardians? Shout for help? She had attacked him, and Ben knew the Guardians wanted to question her. Maybe they even thought she was the Dream stalker.

Dorna gestured again, pointing further up the balcony that ran around the entire house. It was hard to see her, since the lights in the house were on and it was dark outside. Ben glanced around uncertainly. Dorna had attacked him, and that made him angry, but his mother had said she probably suffered from multiple personalities and didn’t know what she was doing.

Now there’s a good reason to go outside and talk to her , he thought.