Death’s Dimensions a psychotic space opera

For a few moments he lay there, then turned over under the straps and rubbed his eyes.

“Mmmm. Sorry, Dee. Didn’t mean to drift off.”

“That’s straight, you needed it.” She unstrapped him.

“Is that it for today? I’ve got to hit the head.”

“Yes. That’s it. How about these?” She held out her wrists.

“Nope. Those weren’t in the bargain. I need you for a while.” He left the room.

He did not go to the head, though. Stopping at the nearest viewscrim, he said, “Replay your memory of the session we just had.”

He watched and listened with a stern frown. So, Kinney just popped up like that? And she’s still thinking of killing me? Is she trying to build me up to a post-hypnotic suggestion? Hide? It’s stupid. They look so stupid sitting there naked. Jackal?

Why, you bitch!

He flew in through the open hatch and tackled her before she could react. Clamping a hand over her mouth, he dragged her toward the instrument tray. Too fast for her to do more than gurgle, he shoved a fistful of cotton under his hand and held it in her mouth.

“Playing little tricks, bitch? I told you I wanted Kinney gone, not hidden.” He reached under her hair, pulled it up, and wrapped surgical tape around her head and across her mouth.

He used the entire roll and then let the container float away.

“Now,” he wondered aloud, “how are you going to do therapy on me when-” She brought her hands quickly up, catching him under the chin with the manacles. He spun away and she fell toward the instrument tray.

Fumbling with a small vial, she connected it to the hypogun and turned it to her chest. Her hands dug against the manacles, but she managed to point it above her left breast and pull the trigger.

“No!” Baker cried at the sound of the prolonged injection. He reached her as the first spasm threw the gun from her hands. He screamed at the computer: “What was it?”

“Two hundred ccs of sodium pentabarbitol administered intracardially. Detect no heart action, nervous system response dropping, respiration terminated. Brain death in-”

Ignoring the prognosis, he dragged her to the next room and threw her in the boxdoc. Mechanical scissors snipped away at the tape and metal claws withdrew the cotton while he unlocked the manacles. He closed the lid and watched the machine perform a cardio-pulmonary resuscitation sequence.

It’s no good-“Right? It’s no good.”

“The machine can keep blood circulating and oxygen reaching the brain to delay brain death, but she will not revive.”

Baker wiped the sweat from his face, breathed deeply, and asked, “How do I prepare her for cloning?”

Sitting in Con-One, Baker watched the lifeship drift away from the starboard bay. He turned off the scrim and tapped his fingers against the chair arm.

“Ready to transfer out and back,” the computer said. The transfer button lit up. Baker swallowed hard and pressed it.

Chapter Thirteen 2224

I have to do it again and again, just to get the right to die my own way, safe and sure that the door will open wide and Dad and Crys will be there and here it comes again. I know. I’m trying to come with you, but it keeps pulling me back. I’m sorry. Someday. Soon.

Look at me. That’s not my body so thin and white. Don’t push. I’m going back.

“Ready to transfer.” Baker pushed the button again.

Maybe I’m almost getting used to this. Or maybe Kinney is taking me over and making me as crazy as he. When he takes over completely, will I die like this? Dropping forever toward the door, endlessly down a corridor-pit? There he falls again, Kinney, pushing Crys and Dad out of the way, begging me to follow him, telling me it’ll be all right, that he loves me as much as her and that was why he did it but I don’t believe him.

“What is your name?” the computer inquired.

“What? Oh. Jord Baker. Don’t you think that’s getting pretty useless? Both of us know about the other.”

“I need to keep track. You both have your… idiosyncrasies. Stand by for engine firing.” The tug of acceleration startled him, but he eased into the cushions and waited until weightlessness returned.

“Cloning tank and lifeship on visual,” it said. “Ready to be taken onboard. However-telemetry from the unit indicates a dysfunctional state.”

“What do you mean?” Baker unstrapped and retracted the control panels.

“The clone is apparently dead. All power to the cloning tank has been shut down-”

Baker sped to the docking bay, took the controls, and remote-piloted the lifeship back into Circus. He cycled the atmosphere and waited impatiently by the airlock.

“Come on.” Come on! The airlock slowly opened.

Pulling the cloning unit out of the ship, he opened the tank without inspecting it and peered inside at clean emptiness.

“Nothing! The unit must’ve failed right after we cast it off. Unless it went through a cleansing cycle-”

“The waste unit is empty. Now close the lid and look at it.”

Baker did so and read the frantic words knifed into the black plating.

WANDERER-I STOLE YOUR PRIZE

“What does that mean?”

“The ship that attacked us around Beta Hydri. The pilot called Virgil ‘Wanderer.’ ”

“How did he find us?” Baker tried to control the near-screech in his voice, digging his finger into the padded rim or the cloning tank.

“The pilot challenged us to appear here sometime in June, Twenty-Two Twenty-Three. According to best estimates, it is now January of Twenty-Two Twenty-Four.”

“Then why the hell did you go to Tau Ceti?”

“It was the next star on our tour-much closer to our sun type than Epsilon Eridani and also closer to similar star types Eighty-Two Eridani and Sigma Draconis.”

“You knew! And now he’s got Delia!”

“Free will doesn’t mean I have to consider every-” “Start looking for her. How big a Bernal sphere is it?”’

“How did you know it was a Bernal sphere?”

Baker paused, then said, “More memory overlap. He had all sorts of corpses in the control room, right?”

“Yes.”

“Have you found him?” Maybe if I can retrieve all of Kinney’s memories I won’t be consumed. Maybe I can pick him away bit by bit.

“He may be lying in wait for us,” the computer said. “I have all defenses online, lasers set in spiral tracking. A Bernal is such a large target, though, it would take a long time to wipe out every weapon or control center by purely random shots. He would be able to destroy us if he wanted to, merely by turning on his lasers before he transferred out to us.”

“Straight, so we’re dead. Now try and find him.”

“There is an object about four kilometers in length exactly twenty-three degrees ahead of the lifeship in the same orbit.”

“Prepare shuttle two for launching. I’m going to transfer over there and take a look.”

“Jord-we can always clone another-”

“He can’t have her! Brennen can’t-” The name shocked Baker. “Brennen? The madman is Brennen?”