Insomnia

40

The cyborg ripped off the padlock on the shed with a single pull of her metallic arm. They stepped inside. The interior was remarkably clean, swept clear of dust without even a single cobweb. An old rake and two yard bots lay in the corner. Shelves lined the walls, filled with all kinds of useless knick-knacks. A single chair next to an old workbench.

"You think he's hiding somewhere in here?" Devoe asked. "Well, maybe if he had a secret basement or something."

Esme sat down on the bench and entered Halfsleep. Spores hung in the air of the partial dreamscape. Sunlight passed through the windows and got caught in delicate cobwebs. She allowed her mental probe to expand until it surrounded the shed completely. This was getting easier. In some ways, the extra practice was a blessing in disguise.

A low hum in the back wall - behind an old book on gardening techniques. Esme closed in on the device.

The slow cut of a record player dragging along vinyl. She pressed forward and saw the minute grooves layered on the surface. They flickered and whined - needing to be arranged just so in order to... open. She nudged the ridges in place. They complained at first, so she shushed them gently.

"Hold," she thought/whispered to the alert message.

Another try. The sound jumped away from her for a moment, discordant and scratchy. She held firm and continued massaging the pattern. They clicked into place. A flare of trumpets.

Esme returned to the real world and watched lazily as the retinal scanner in the wall registered the pattern of Oz's eyeball and pulled back a piece of the floor, revealing a long set of stairs. Devoe jumped as the entrance emerged, before turning to Esme in amazement.

"Oz mentioned you had powerful Psionics," she murmured, "didn't say you could hack stuff with your mind."

"Let's go," said Esme, beginning the descent. The cyborg followed shortly after. Her breathing was loud in the narrow staircase.

They emerged into a small office, twice the length of the shed and about as wide. This place had seen regular usage - a small fridge in the back stocked with fresh fruit, coffee rings on the metal desk. Boxes lined the walls. Inside were thick manila folders. A computer lay unattended on the desk in front of a plush office chair. Esme disregarded it almost immediately. She could sense that it wasn't connected to the Net or Somnus, so little chance that she'd be able to hack into any useful information.

She and Devoe began leafing through the folders. Mostly incomprehensible coding jargon.

"More brain scans," Devoe said. "In this one here."

"There are some patient interviews in mine," replied Esme, flipping past more brain scans. "Intake exams. Based on, I think, psychological history? Not sure."

"Requests for data. On people's dreams."

"That's pretty typical. For a researcher at Fantasian."

"There's an address," the cyborg added, "on most of this request paperwork."

"To here?"

"No, some facility on the moon."

"Mmm," Esme murmured, flipping through another stack. "Got budget forms - to the same address." She frowned. "Lot of cash for processors. Some real heavy duty computer hardware here. Expensive stuff, hard to come by these days."

"Also makes sense for research. Fantasian processes dream data to make Somnus feel more... real, right?"

"Yeah, but this seems like an independent project. Look over here..."

Esme had learned in the past few months that most of investigative work was leafing through pages on pages of boring data. These most recent days were something of an aberration. Devoe tossed a folder she'd finished to the ground, and a sheet of paper peeked out, catching Esme's attention. She snatched it up and her eyes widened.

Sketched somewhat haphazardly before her, was a figure whose body was made of crystalline spikes. His head swelled into what looked like a helmet - although it was really more of a carapace. Those eyes. Dark and unblinking.

It was the Knightmare's true form.