Chapter Five
Dreens appear capable of creating only viral and bacterial life forms as an aspect of what they call “idmaging.” This creativity and allied shapeshifting powers impose their own rules. Idmaged life forms follow laws of evolution inherent to themselves and their environments. Dreens display ignorance about many aspects of their creations and say such understanding does not submit to rational analysis.
—“Dreen Mysteries,” a Zone Patrol report
After the morning gruel, two Zone Patrol guards in brown and blue uniforms with gold braid of Command Echelon escorted Lutt down the drab cellblock corridor and up an elevator to the next level.
Lutt felt clear-headed and in control of himself after a restful sleep disturbed by a brief nightmare most of whose details vanished on awakening: something about redecorating his cell and then removing the changes.
No more hallucinations, he told himself.
The elevator opened into a round room with smoky gray glass wall panels that changed shape as he focused on them.
Spirit Glass!
The glass, an Osceola Industries monopoly, had been demonstrated to him once in a Hanson laboratory where his father’s researchers failed to penetrate their secret.
“Dangerous stuff,” a technician had warned. “It can twist your mind out of shape.”
A familiar whisper interrupted his nervous examination of the glass-walled room.
“Major Captain will be with you presently.”
That’s interesting, Ryll intruded.
Lutt came to a stop between his two guards, his body trembling without control. That voice in his head again! But it was not like the familiar whisper that came to him almost as though originating within his left ear.
Who was that whispering? Ryll asked.
It was you, wasn’t it?
I’m glad you finally accept my presence but I assure you it was not I who whispered.
I don’t accept you or anything like you!
It felt almost as though it came through the Spirals, Ryll offered.
Shut up! Get outa my head!
Slowly, Lutt brought the trembling under control. The two guards were amused by his obvious fear, he saw. If they only knew the cause!
The whisper was a disconnected piece of a lifetime puzzle floating in Lutt’s awareness. The pieces knocked against one another without proper alignment.
Major Captain. Another crazy name!
People with bizarre names often came associated with that eerie whisper. There had been Tundra Farmer, a stocky playmate of his childhood. Tunny, as most called him, always appeared when Lutt was about to be defeated in a schoolyard fight. The strange child threw such a barrage of blows that after a time his mere appearance sent attackers fleeing.
Other oddly named people aided Lutt in adolescence and young adulthood: Pipple Iter got him through college math, and Waxy Gourd convinced him to concentrate on aerospace design, solar communication and study of the flame-drenched planet Venus.
Most recently, Samuel Robert Kand, an aerospace engineer, had presented himself to Lutt and been placed in charge of the Vortraveler shop.
Even “vorspiral” had come to him via that disembodied whisper, a label accompanied by such a spate of technical data Lutt had dashed to the nearest recorder to preserve it for later examination.
When he had said “vorspiral” once in his mother’s presence, she surprised him by saying, “I’ve heard your Uncle Dudley say that. What does it mean?”
They had been home after one of her interminable afternoon teas and Lutt, bored by compulsory attendance, had been galvanized. “Uncle Dudley? Where and how did he mention vorspirals? When?”
“Now, dear, I don’t remember. But it is a curious word. Does it mean anything?”
“I’m not sure. Where’s Uncle Dudley? I have to talk to him.”
“You know he and your father had a falling out, dear. And you mustn’t upset your father.”
“But where’s Uncle Dudley?”
“Everyone says he’s on Venus, as I’m sure you’ve heard. I don’t know why, what with all the violence there. It’s best we forget my poor brother, dear. He always was a bit strange.”
And that was all she would say about Uncle Dudley.
Sam R. Kand’s appearance to work on the Vortraveler had not really surprised Lutt but he still wondered if Uncle Dudley were behind this mystery, especially when the best investigators Lutt hired could not find a trace of the man.
Was Major Captain another oddly named “helper”? Faced with Spirit Glass windows, Lutt suspected he would need all the help he could get.
One of them thrusting each shoulder, the ZP guards pushed him toward the center of the room. “Find your way to the circle at the center,” one of them growled.
Lutt stumbled away from the guards and heard a sliding sound behind him. He turned and was in time to see a Spirit Glass panel close off the elevator. His last view of the two guards was of them grinning at him.
What circle at the center? Lutt wondered.
He turned away from the panel concealing the elevator and saw a spiral pattern spinning on the floor at the center of the room. It had not been there before. They were projecting it from somewhere but he could not determine the source.
Spiral … another spiral.
Lutt looked at the Spirit Glass on the far wall and, for an instant, thought he saw the remembered features of Uncle Dudley in the smoky depths. The image disappeared and reshaped into an older Uncle Dudley seated on a rickety pier. Uncle Dudley was watching a woman with a cane pole fish from the end of the pier. The woman turned and Lutt recognized Osceola looking much as she had in the most recent media picture on the five o’clock news.
The pier, Uncle Dudley and Osceola dissolved into gray mists.
Nightmare! The Spirit Glass was taking over his mind!
But Spirit Glass windows were an exclusive product of Osceola Industries. Why couldn’t the glass show her?
Lutt shook his head, Osceola—another barrier to his father’s dreams of empire. Beth Osceola, a seventy-two-year-old half Seminole, ran her company with no regard for L.H.’s dreams. She refused to sell Osceola Industries to his father and would not even return a vidcom call.
“The Old Bag,” Hanson Senior called her, but Lutt secretly admired her independence.
A sibilant voice with no apparent source abruptly hissed at him: “Stand on the circle at the center!”
With a helpless feeling of compulsion, Lutt stepped forward onto the spinning spiral. The Spirit Glass in front of him whirled with dancing lights.
They’re going to fry my brain!
Where was Major Captain? Where was any helper now that he needed one?
He closed his eyes but memory of the Spirit Glass filled his awareness. What could he do? The glass could be shattered by a blow but behaved more like liquid than any solid substance. He opened his eyes and tried to count the windows around the room. They undulated sickeningly.
Thirty-five windows. That’s my age.
He counted them once more and came up with sixteen.
That’s my age, Ryll intruded. Stop counting them.
You don’t exist so stop telling me what to do!
This was much more than interrogation, Lutt realized. And it was very dangerous to his sanity.
Of course it’s dangerous to our sanity! Ryll offered.
Voices in my head, hallucinations!
Lutt felt perspiration on his brow. He rubbed a moist palm across his mouth and smelled machine oil.
Machine oil? That’s the smell in my Vortraveler. Where is my ship? What happened to Drich Baker?
Baker’s dead. I told you that. You’d be dead, too, if I hadn’t saved us. Now let me help you or that Spirit Glass will get us both.
I don’t believe in you!
Stop that! I leave you in control of our body for a few minutes and you fall into this crazy delusion.
You’re the delusion!
You listen to me, Lutt. For the sake of appearances I’m letting you take charge but I can stop that anytime I want.
So stop it! Stop messing up my mind!
Use some intelligence, Lutt. These Zone Patrol people are suspicious. If I made some nonhuman slip, they’d notice. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a cell?
Then if you’re real, why don’t you go to sleep and let me handle this?
I need to learn about you, Lutt. And we Dreens don’t need much sleep, so don’t think you can wait until I doze off. Dreens lead very active lives.
Lutt removed his glasses, found a handkerchief and wiped perspiration from the lenses. In the search for a handkerchief, he determined that his other personal effects—keys, watch, slips of mini-note, a small pen—were gone.
Removed by the Zone Patrol?
They took everything from our pockets, Ryll offered.
That voice in his head again.
But why was the ZP interrogating him?
Even in voiceless mental communication, Ryll’s next offering was patronizing: It’s because of the crash. You know that. But have you noticed how well you see without glasses?
Lutt looked at the glasses in his hand, at the room, at the handkerchief. Shocked, he realized he was seeing clearly without glasses.
You are seeing well because these are not your eyes, Lutt. They’re my eyes. I idmaged only plain glass in your lenses. Good idmaging, eh? A technique I learned in school and am delighted to see I can perform. Does this convince you?
Lutt replaced the glasses on his nose.
I must fix my mind on one thing to keep my sanity.
To keep your delusion, you mean!
He ignored this and watched a pane of Spirit Glass change from square to round, then to oval and rectangular.
Psychiatrists and police were said to be the principal customers for Spirit Glass. Investigators said prolonged exposure to the constantly changing shapes turned a subject’s brain to mush, causing him to reveal his darkest secrets. Interrogators wore special glasses to protect them from this dangerous effect.
A loud click startled Lutt, causing him to retreat from the central spiral. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw a brown dome emerging from the floor nearby. A hum of motors and noise of gears accompanied the appearance of this object. The odor of machine oil was pronounced.
A female voice filled the room.
“Stay within the circle!”
It’s some kind of freaking vorspiral, Lutt thought.
Spiral! Just Spiral. It is a Dreen label.
Dreen, schmeen!
But something forced Lutt onto the spiral.
Where is my helper? he wondered.
With an increasingly loud hum, the dome came through the floor. Tiles folded into place around it. The room fell silent.
Lutt saw a jagged dent in the dome, surely a sign of damage. A flaw in the adversary?
Adversary? This is my nation’s Zone Patrol!
“By what right are you holding me?” he demanded.
Something in the dome gave off a dull “clunk. “He heard a low voice say, “Oh, shit!” then another dull “clunk.”
Slowly, the dome opened, a metal flower spreading eight, curved petals onto the floor around it. In the center, at a shiny silver desk, sat a fair-skinned female officer in the dark brown of Zone Patrol Special Forces. Blue-black hair wisped from under her gold-trimmed officer’s cap. Her collar displayed golden ovals with caduceus symbols. She appeared preoccupied with turning a large wheel beside her.
Medical officer of some kind, Lutt thought, but he had no military experience to tell him her rank or specialty. She wore dark glasses that glittered when she aimed them at him.
Abruptly, she released her hold on the wheel and laughed, a menacing sound that sent a chill up Lutt’s back. She slammed a fist against the wheel and it vanished into the desk.
“Why do you need that wheel?” Lutt ventured. “I thought the military was fully automated.”
“Shut up, you! I’ll ask the questions here!”
No gentle lady, this one!
She adjusted her dark glasses on her nose. “I am Major Paula Captain.” Crisp, authoritarian voice.
She did not sound like one of his periodic helpers. Father always said to attack when in doubt. Lutt took a deep breath. “Have you been a major long enough to get over being called Captain Captain?”
“Your lame levity is not amusing, Mr. Hanson.”
“Then maybe I should publish a series on how the military gold-plates everything to make jobs for officers. Would that amuse you?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Oh, no, Major Captain, ma’am.”
“I’ve heard every play on my name your lame brain could imagine and I do not bow to threats. Is that clear?”
“As clear as Spirit Glass, Captain … I mean, Major.”
She glanced at something on her desk. “You’ve been brought before me on an extremely serious charge.”
“Trespassing,” Lutt said.
She leaned toward him. “We could’ve blasted you out of space without warning! Do you understand that?”
Lutt stared past her at a pulsing panel of Spirit Glass.
Lutt! Stop looking at that glass. That’s what she wants.
The voice in his head! Real or not, a good warning. He shifted attention to Major Captain and imagined her naked. That sometimes put officious types in proper perspective. Firm chin, largish nose, small breasts. The desk hid her legs.
The room’s light shifted suddenly and the Spirit Glass became mirrors. The glass reflected several aspects of Major Captain. All of them wavered and elongated, then shortened.
“Your guards told me to stand in a circle, but this is a spiral under me,” Lutt said. “I know something about spirals.”
“Perhaps you didn’t locate the correct place to stand,” she said. No hint of a smile.
She wants you to look around. Don’t do it.
Again, good advice from the voice in his head. Lutt formed what he hoped was a sarcastic smile.
Something under her desk went “clickety-clickety …” She struck the desk with a fist and the sound stopped.
Lutt concentrated on the Spirit Glass behind the major. Gray silhouettes there began to dance suggestively.
The glass responds to your lustful mind! Don’t do that.
He imagined rabbit ears and they attached themselves to her reflection.
Lutt chuckled. I’ll have her nibbled to death by rabbits!
Two rabbits appeared in the reflections and began eating the major’s images. The illusion vanished with an audible burp.
“Have you ever heard of Dreens?” she asked.
Urgency gave Ryll command of their voice. “Screens? What kind of screens?”
“I said Dreens!”
“What the hell are Dreens?” He inched backwards.
“Stay in the circle!” she barked.
“I understand.” Ryll spoke with tenuous voice control. “Black is white and brains are pudding to be stirred and eaten.”
She leaned forward, an elbow on her desk, and supported her chin on one hand. Her expression did not change.
Ryll felt a growing panic from Lutt.
All right! Take over but be cautious. This one could throw us into prison forever.
Hesitantly, Lutt resumed control. He blinked, stalling to get his thoughts in order, and glanced around, trying once more to count the panels.
Stop counting. You’ll get a different number each time.
“Perhaps you’ve overlooked something,” she said.
“This room is supposed to seem like a whole level of the building but it’s too small,” Lutt said. “Any idiot can see that. Even you. It’s just tricks, illusions. I stopped being impressed by carnival games when I was ten.”
She laughed and once more it carried a mean tone.
“I freely admit there are other rooms on this level. Do you know which panels are actually doors into those rooms?”
Look at her, not at the Spirit Glass!
Lutt stared at her and realized he was looking at a reflection. He swept his gaze around and focused on what he thought was Major Captain seated at her desk.
“I know about Spirit Glass!” he said. “It’s supposed to turn my brain into pulp for an inquisitor like you.”
“Considering who your father is, I don’t doubt you’ve seen such glass,” she said. “But you’re not with your father now.”
“He’ll be madder than a wet adder when he learns about this!”
“Come now! Why don’t you look at me!”
Lutt realized he had been looking at another reflection. He turned and saw the desk with Major Captain behind it. She smiled, cold and frightening.
“Be a good boy and help me get through this.”
The way she said “good boy” sounded vaguely like his mother. This Major Captain was an irritating bitch!
He saw a female dog in a reflection. It was suckling a puppy but turned on the puppy and ate it. Lutt felt like vomiting.
“Lutt Hanson Junior,” she said. “I’m told you’re a good newspaperman but you’ve never heard of Dreens.”
“That’s doubletalk! You’re just trying to confuse me.”
“Are you a good newspaperman?”
“Hell! I own a newspaper.”
“No. Daddy owns it. He gave it to you as a plaything.”
All of the major’s reflections began chanting in Lutt’s mind:
“Daddy owns it … Daddy owns it … Daddy owns it …”
You’re hallucinating! Stop it!
Lutt felt his face flush hot.
“Where’s my ship?” he demanded. “You’d better release me and return my ship.”
“You’ve been conducting illegal research on space travel.”
“Who says it’s illegal? Show me the law!”
She propped her display screen into a new position, studied it a moment, then smiled sweetly at Lutt.
“Spiral communications, yes. And now you want to take this development into space.”
“Who told you? Where did you—”
“I ask the questions; you answer.”
“This is no way to negotiate with me for the use of what I’ve discovered! Is that what you’re doing?”
“What have you discovered?”
“None of your damn business!”
“Oh? Well, we’ll find out when you apply for patent.”
“I’m not going to patent. I’m going to keep it secret and
protect it with a self-destruct system.”
She scowled. “Are you saying your ship self-destructed?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“What if I said you collided with a Zone Patrol ship?”
“I’d call you a liar.”
“Were you drunk or on drugs, Mr. Hanson?”
“Your doctors have already told you I’m clean. I don’t befuddle my brain.”
“We haven’t ’rayed you but the preliminary examination says you came through the accident remarkably unscathed. How did you do that when your copilot was killed?”
I told you Drich was dead.
Stay out of this!
Steer her away from this, fool! Next you’ll be telling her the other ship was Dreen and we’ll be in the soup!
You know I don’t believe that.
You got us into this mess, Lutt, improperly accessing a Spiral. Don’t make it any worse.
I’ll do what I damn well please!
Despite its human appearance, our body is mostly Dreen. Haven’t you any gratitude for what I did to save you?
There’s no such thing as a Dreen.
Damn it! We both heard her!
Just more hallucination!
Desperately, Ryll tried once more to override Lutt and met resistance greater than anticipated. Ryll tried to move their left foot and felt it twitch.
What was happening here? Yesterday, Lutt had been weak and easily controlled. Now, he was fearful, angry and stronger.
Lutt! The Zone Patrol has Dreen captives who may never see freedom again. Do you want to join them?
I don’t want to believe this.
You must believe it!
It’s the Spirit Glass. They’ve fried my brain.
Ryll hesitated. With a sinking feeling, he realized he could take command of this body but the effort would be sure to arouse the interrogator’s suspicions.
Lutt allowed himself a gloating thought. I feel better today. I’m okay except for an annoying voice in my mind.
Clasping his hands over his head, Lutt stretched, making his knuckles pop.
Urgency gave Ryll control of their voice and he blurted: “Don’t do that!”
Major Captain stiffened. “What don’t you want me to do?”
Privately, Ryll thought: That was a mistake. By the fallow glands of a sterile tax collector, did I merge incorrectly?
Lutt grinned and resumed control of their voice. “Just trying to keep you awake. Looked like you were getting sleepy.”
“How can you tell? You can’t see my eyes.”
Lutt closed his eyes and sighed, concentrating on his bodily sensations. Was it possible this creature calling itself Ryll actually existed? Concentration gave Lutt the momentary sensation of Dreen inward-seeing. It was elusive, just at the fringe of comprehension. Sickening!
“You’re the one looking sleepy,” Major Captain said.
Lutt opened his eyes. “I’ve a headache.”
“Then speed this up.by telling me about the Dreen ship you hit.”
“There you go with that doubletalk!”
You’re doing fine, Lutt. Accuse her. Attack.
Behind the major, Lutt saw a glass panel take the shape of a kangaroo. It began hopping from panel to panel. Meeting the undulating form of a naked Major Captain in a panel, the kangaroo developed a large penis.
Lutt! Stop that. It’s exactly what she wants!
The kangaroo vanished but all of the Spirit Glass began to undulate suggestively. Multiple reflections of the major appeared in a clinging yellow gown.
Lutt tried to find the real major among the reflections.
Find the one in uniform, idiot!
He saw her then, seated at her desk, but there was lace at her neck. She appeared to look directly at him.
“What do you see?” she asked.
“What do you see?” Lutt countered.
“You tell me what you see.”
“I want out of here and I want my ship. The ship I hit came out of thin air without any warning. I’m not to blame.”
“Air? In space?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, but you must tell me yourself what you mean.”
“I’m patriotic and I’ll cooperate as much as possible, but I won’t give away my family’s proprietary secrets. You’ll have to pay hard cash for those.”
“We’ll learn all we need from the wreckage.”
No, she won’t! Ryll thought it openly, allowing Lutt to share. My Dreen drive self-destructed to keep it from alien hands.
Lutt found himself not quite accepting the reality of this voice but desperately wanting to believe what it now said.
Are you sure?
I saw it happen. Patricia would not let herself fall into Earther hands.
Patricia?
A very odd name, I agree.
Major Captain cleared her throat. “Are you suggesting you hit a UFO?”
“Of course not!”
“We’ve had enough such nonsense. It does nothing but create panic and hysteria.”
Lie! Say there was no other ship. Say you had a malfunction, your ship strayed off course and exploded.
That was a good idea! Lutt accepted it and obeyed.
Major Captain listened quietly. She appeared pleased.
When Lutt fell silent, she touched a lever on her desk. The Spirit Glass became steady, a dull shade of opaque gray.
Major Captain removed her glasses, revealing eyes almost the same gray as the Spirit Glass. Her mouth formed a rigid smile. He had never before seen an expression that chilling.
That was the explanation she wanted.
Damned voice in his head!
“Let’s understand each other, Mr. Hanson. Technically, you broke the law by entering a restricted area. What were you doing there?”
“I had an accident. Isn’t there an unwritten law about ‘any port in a storm’? Doesn’t the Zone Patrol have obligations to taxpayers?”
“Be quiet, little man. We could put you away for a long time. But our examination of your ship led us to the conclusion you have just voiced.”
“I told you the truth.”
“Of course you did. But only after you tried to develop a story you could exploit in your damned newspaper.”
“So I’m a businessman and my experiments are expensive.”
“We’re willing to shelve prosecution, Mr. Hanson, but only on one condition.”
Oh, oh! Here it comes!
Will you get out of my mind!
Our mind, Lutt. Our mind. Well, ask her what condition!
“What condition?”
“If you develop anything valuable for national defense, you give it to the Zone Patrol first.”
“That’s blackmail!”
“It’s good business.”
While Lutt was distracted by this idea, Ryll suddenly seized control of their voice and said: “Shit!”
“No need to get angry, Mr. Hanson. We’ll pay well.”
But Ryll’s reaction was to the sudden realization he could have escaped the Zone Patrol cell by shapeshifting into a long, thin snake having mass equal to his Dreen body.
But they’d have known I was Dreen then. Fearfully, he returned control to Lutt.
“You’re young,” Major Captain said. “Perhaps you’ll be wiser when you mature.”
She opened a desk drawer and removed a clear plastic bag, which she extended toward Lutt.
“Your personal effects.”
Lutt accepted them, fearful of what his misbehaving body might do next. Why was he saying these things?
“You’re damn lucky to have such an influential father,” Major Captain said.
So Father put on the pressure!
Emboldened by this realization, Lutt said: “And I want my ship back as soon as possible!”
“It sustained extensive damage and there’ll be a hearing over the death of your copilot.”
“Drich signed all of the test-pilot waivers! We carried heavy insurance for his survivors.”
“No doubt. We merely wish to determine the degree of your culpability.”
“Drich was in control when it happened.”
They’ll follow and watch us.
Will you stop distracting me?
Major Captain glanced at her screen, then: “As for your ship, you can have it but we don’t deliver. See our warehouseman in Section 154-C.”
“How do I find this warehouse?”
“They’ll give you directions when you sign out. Take the elevator up one level and check out with the lobby guard. And you’d damn well better say nothing about Dreens.”
“Lady, if I knew what you were talking about, I’d discuss this with you. Personally, I think you’re nuts.”
“We’ll see who’s aberrated. Oh, there’s a limo waiting outside for you.”
Lutt smiled. So the Zone Patrol was sending him home in style. He hoped the elevator would be visible when he turned. It was.
But the major was not through with him.
“That’s some limo they sent for you. Your father must have those things made for some Chinese circus.”
Oh, damn! Damn! Damn! It’s a Hanson limo—one of our blasted rickshaws! They know I hate ’em! Why are they coming for me in one of those?