Devon, Alone Part I - The Shattering of the Dream
WARNING: "Devon, Alone" has an M rating (recommended for ages 15 and
over). It contains adult situations and some violent content. If this
bothers you, don't read it.
NOTES: "Devon, Alone I - The Shattering of the Dream" is part one
of a five part series. Each part should be complete in itself, but
forms a greater story when read sequentially.
A huge thank-you goes to Sue Sadler for proofreading/commenting
this piece for me. Also thanks to Alicia for reading this and
giving me the okay to post it to the Earth 2 fanfic list.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained within belong
to Universal/Amblin Entertainment. No copyright infringement is
intended.
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DEVON, ALONE PART I - The Shattering of the Dream.
by Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com)
December 1996.
I close my eyes and heard the slow, dull hiss of the chamber
sealing in front of me. Outwardly I am calm, I am collected, yet
inside I am terribly scared. The time for crying will come later,
when the comprehension of what I have lost can fully be
appreciated. For now, there is nothing but a cold, deadly fear.
My outward features are perfectly composed. I do not want my
friends to see how frightened I am, or how awful their actions are.
They are doing what they believe best for me, and I have grown to
love every one of them.
I am dying. In more ways than one. Had I stayed in the
living world, my body would soon have given up its fight. The
disorientation, the convulsions, the struggle for every last breath
would have ended and then they would have buried me in the ground.
Instead, they have buried me in a very different place, one
that I cannot escape from and one that will hold me prisoner for
many years. For if they cannot help me now, it is not possible
that a miraculous cure will suddenly spring into existence. Even
if the doctor, my friend, works day and night.
I feel the chilling drugs slowly permeate my body. The air
grows colder with every passing second, and I perceive the terrible
drowsiness overcoming me. There is no oxygen to breathe, yet
somehow, one never notices such things just before they are
banished to oblivion.
It scares me every time I go into cold sleep, but this time it
is worse. I don't have the reassuring knowledge that there will be
a time when I *will* wake up, and I do not know if I will ever see
the sun again.
Yet I believe in my friends. They will not banish me here
forever. I need to hold that candle in my heart, one tiny flame to
combat the growing darkness that surrounds me. If I open my eyes
a little, I can make out their traumatised faces dimly through the
icy wall. The anguish in their eyes reflects the love in their
hearts. For me.
I suddenly realise that without these people, my life is
meaningless. I think back to my life on the Stations, long before
I even dreamed this planet existed. For the first thirty years of
my life, I did not know what real living was like. I was
an automated robot among millions. Sure, I had power, wealth and
much-coveted influence, yet the only thing that held any meaning
was my son.
Since coming here, though, with all the hardships and
tragedies we have faced, I would not trade it for anything. Even
if I suddenly woke up on the stations, alive and healthy with no
trace of this mysterious illness, I would rather die here. With my
friends, for they have become everything to me.
I am not worried about them. They are survivors and will go
on, even without me, their leader. We have all grown so close that
I feel as if they are part of my intimate family, and in a way, we
*are* each others' family. Any ties we had to the stations are
long since dissolved as we learn to live with and love each other.
Even my son will not be alone. A mother's hardest time is
often letting her child go, but I know he will be alright. Uly has
a friend for the first time in his life, and even though he and
True frequently fight, it seems a harmless form of sibling rivalry.
Sibling. Strange I should use that word. Or perhaps not.
True's father John has been there for me more times than I can
count, and I have come to depend on him ultimately. He has
replaced Yale in my life which is something quite scary, yet
exciting at the same time. For so many years Yale was the one I
turned to, the one I could trust to care for Uly in my absence, the
one I knew would be there for *me*.
But John has taken that role in a different light. He will
look after my son, lead the group and come back for me someday. I
can feel it in my heart, along with another growing emotion that
defies the boundaries of simple friendship. I can remember the
casual touches, the times he has held my hand, and the gentle,
unnerving hugs when no one else was looking.
Faced with death, I can appreciate just how much he has been
there for *me* personally. No one else, no other ties, just John
and myself. And now I regret not realising these things earlier
and taking initiative. Things could have been different and more
wonderful between us. I - I love him.
Can he hear me out there? Can he hear my heart slowing with
every passing moment until soon it will stop perhaps forever? Does
he know that I love him?
I strain to move my lips against the encompassing cold to
whisper last words. "Don't be sad. This is the only way, the only
hope..."
I do not think they heard me. I will miss them so much!
People say that you don't dream in cold sleep, but I do. Will I be
forever tormented by the shadows of the past or ghosts of the
future?
Now my mind is growing heavy as the greyness blankets down.
I think of Uly, and then of John, and know that no matter how many
years pass, they will be there when I wake up. I am not alone,
never alone again since that day we crashed.
And the darkness comes in and suddenly I feel so terribly
frightened and *alone*...
***
The crushing blackness gradually lifted itself from Devon
Adair's mind. From what seemed very far away, faint sounds began
to reach her ears.
"Program complete." She heard mechanical clicks and whirrings
around her in all directions. Hands seemed to
be all over her body and it felt as if layers of her skin were
being peeled away. Wires were everywhere - on her head, across her
eyes, and she even felt one being pulled from her throat as
something was wrapped around her. Devon's body was then roughly
pressed back onto a metal bench.
"Relax," said a flat, emotionless voice. "Your senses will
return soon."
Lifting a hand to her face, Devon could feel that her eyes were
open, even though nothing registered but a variety of shadows and
blotches similar to the patterns found inside eyelids. She tried
to speak, to ask where she was, or more importantly, *when* she
was, yet her throat was too dry.
Reaching into her memories of her last few waking moments,
Devon realised that there was no trace of the pain - the ravaging
disease had left no legacy. She was breathing easily, a pure,
filtered air with perfect mechanical consistency.
Did that mean she was on a ship of some sort?
Desperately missing the sweet, scented and natural air of G889, she
pushed up on her arms. Even if she couldn't see, she wanted to get
outside.
"Lie down!" instructed the voice in a severe tone. She felt
something being injected into her arm. "This will cause the
disorientation to pass. Once you are fully recovered, you may
leave."
Devon raged internally.
A harrowing notion struck her then. What if it were hundreds
of years in the future, where technology was so much more advanced
and everything she knew was gone...
"Ah, Ms Adair. Welcome back." A voice interrupted her
thoughts. A hauntingly familiar voice, one that she had not heard
for many months real-time, and a voice that still caused some part
of her to tremble like a young school girl. Dison Blalock.
Devon struggled against the dizziness, and was finally
rewarded with some semblance of a functional body. Weakly, she
croaked, "What..."
"The program is complete," said Blalock cryptically. "We had
to pull you out a little abruptly due to financial constraints, but
all in all, we're fairly pleased with the data we've gathered."
Fighting a growing nausea, Devon forced her eyes to focus.
She appeared to be in a black chamber with one metal bench pressed
against the back wall, on which she now lay. A latest-generation
droid stood next to her, scanning her body and checking the
readouts on its arm. Others scurried about with complicated
equipment.
Blalock stood in the doorway, smiling imperiously.
"Of course, we can't give you the results right away, but I'm sure
the Council will let you know the outcome of our little experiment
as soon as possible."
Now Devon was thoroughly confused, and more than a little
scared. "What experiment?" she managed.
His expression twisting into a frown, Blalock demanded, "How's
her psyche function?"
"Within normal parameters," replied the mechanical voice.
"There is a slight fluctuation in her memory pathways, possibly an
adverse reaction to having been in the program so long."
Blalock sighed heavily. "Well, as soon as you can, get her
out of here. I don't care if you personally have to lead her back
to her quarters, but my team needs to check over every inch of this
equipment. There was a lot of money invested in this project, and
we don't have time to waste over the confusion," he said snidely,
"of the test subject."
If droids had emotions, this one would have given an
exasperated shrug at that moment. However, still unsatisfied with
the medical readings, it injected another stimulant into Devon's
arm and guided her to a standing position. She felt momentary
dizziness and realised that every object stood out in sharp detail.
Something felt very wrong about this place...
As the droid led her out of the room, Devon turned back for
one moment. Her eyes were wide with confusion as she looked back
over the darkened room. Desperately searching Blalock's face for
any kind of clue, she implored, "Where am I?"
He smiled evilly. "The same place you've been all your life,
Ms Devon Adair. Home on the Stations."
***
Pacing the small sitting room, Devon anxiously awaited her
visitor. Her quarters had the same layout and furnishings as she
remembered from the time before the Eden Project, yet they seemed
empty and barren. No Uly. No Yale. Even her computer was locked
out of much of the stations' records. Devon wanted to know what
the hell was going on.
Finally, the door chime sounded - a sound that seemed so
foreign to her ears now. "Open!" she burst out impatiently, and
the doors slid apart. Devon began to feel a little calmer at the
sight of the person in the corridor. Perhaps now she would get
some answers.
"Yale! It's so wonderful to see you..." She motioned him
inside, and then flung her arms around the cyborg in a much needed
hug. He stiffly accepted her embrace while confusion crossed his
features.
"Welcome back, Ms Adair," he said formally. She pulled back.
"Not you too? Please Yale, I need you! You're the only person
I could find any trace of in the stations' database. What am I
doing here? What happened?" Her words were almost an incoherent
babble, and Yale's face took on a worried frown.
"You don't remember?"
"Of course I remember!" snapped Devon in response. "I remember
every detail of the Eden Project perfectly, right up until the day
I got sick. You should know that, *you* were there!"
"Ms Adair - Devon," he amended, noticing the worry in her
eyes, "I haven't seen you since you dismissed me one year ago."
"One year?" Her eyes grew wide with surprise.
"When you decided to take part in The Program."
Devon took a step backward. This Yale before her was someone
new and frightening, not the friend she held dear. What had
happened to him? Or more importantly, what had happened to her?
Her heart pounding, Devon found the courage to ask the
question. A question who's answer she feared even more than death.
"What program?"
"You're telling me that you really don't remember?"
"If you're talking about the Eden Project, then yes, I know
all about it. I devoted my entire life to it once Uly was born!"
Nodding gravely, Yale said, "Yes, that was part of it. And how far
did you get?"
"You were there!" Devon burst out desperately. "Or at least
you were supposed to be...I just don't know what's going on!"
Yale lead her across to a plush couch and instructed her to sit
down.
"Relax, Devon. Everything will be alright. You're a little
confused right now, but we can work through this. Let's start by
you telling me about the past year of your life."
Devon took a deep breath, and looked into Yale's kind eyes.
Even though he behaved as a stranger, or rather, an estranged
family member, she knew that he would not abandon her no matter
what the circumstances of their last meeting. If only she knew
what that might have been.
"Okay, one year ago. Uly was really, really sick, he seemed
to get weaker every day. He didn't have much time left. I was
pushing to get the project underway, only there were endless
hitches with securing approval to build the colony ship. Then
suddenly, it seemed like the Council came through for me, and away
we went. In three short months, we accomplished so much of the
*physical* work and everything that had been ready in theory just
fell into place."
Devon paused to recollect her thoughts as the memories of the
whirlwind of activity rushed through her mind. Yale was nodding
gravely at every word.
"Finally, we were ready for launch. Then we discovered that
the Council never intended us to go because they sabotaged our
ship. We made it anyway, all the way to Planet G889. I remember
how we crashed, and then we decided to hike all the way across the
planet to reach New Pacifica."
Devon spoke for several minutes, outlining the highlights of
their adventures : Gaal, Grendlers, the tunnels that transported
them across the planet, Uly and the Terrians; everything up until
the moment she was put into cold sleep.
"And then I woke up *here*," she finished. "I can't get a
straight answer out of anyone, the droid had no information, and
when I got back here, there were instructions from Blalock that I
wasn't to leave my quarters or try to contact anyone."
Gesturing helplessly around the room, Devon continued, "It's
just so empty! You were missing, Uly is still missing... I think
parts of my computer have been locked out from the main system.
But that doesn't matter. I need answers."
Yale abruptly stood up. "I require your medical records
first," he instructed. "The results taken by the droid when you
woke up." He quickly accessed the information as Devon told him of
the memory problems that the droid had mentioned.
Scanning the data quickly, Yale performed a deeper search,
gaining access into records from which Devon had not been permitted
to see. "There's nothing truly odd here..." he mused aloud.
"I think it's best that I had a talk with Mr Blalock before we do
anything else. There is no reason for your confused state of
mind."
The old man moved towards the doorway, and Devon jumped up and
grabbed his arm to stop him. "No! You can't leave yet! You have
to tell me, how did I get here from G889? What happened to John
and the others? Where is Uly?" Her voice rose to a hysterical
pitch and Yale realised she was losing control.
"Devon! Take a hold of yourself!" She didn't listen, instead
she began pounding on Yale's chest. Tears welled in her eyes as
she screamed at him over and over, "Where's my son?!"
"Ulysses died ten months ago."
Time seemed to stop for Devon as the full force of his words
hit her.
"Uly is... dead?"
"You have to remember, Devon. I don't know if this whole
scenario is something designed to help you forget, or perhaps you
subconsciously repressed the memory yourself, but you must accept
this fact. Uly died because of the Syndrome. I held your hand at
the funeral."
Devon slowly backed away from Yale, her eyes flashing
dangerously. "You're lying!" she spat, hoping to hide from the
truth yet again. "The final stages of the Eden Project were all
designed around him!"
"Only in VR. I'm sorry, Devon. If I'd ever suspected that it
would have *this* type of effect on your mental stability I would
never have let you go ahead with it." Yale remembered warning her
against Blalock, for the man seemed to have a hidden agenda.
When Blalock had proposed The Program to a grieving Devon, she
had accepted the idea with open arms. This was the only chance to
prove that her years of work had not been in vain, and that even
without Uly, she could still lead the colonisation of a new world.
Yale had no idea whose sadistic idea it was to put Uly in the
VR program, but he had his suspicions. There were those on the
Council to whom experiment was even more fun than profit. Yale
shivered as he realised just how rotten their society was becoming
from within.
Looking to Devon, he noticed that she was overcoming her
shock. She sat stiffly on the couch, her hands over her face, but
her shoulders were shuddering as she silently cried.
"I'm sorry," Yale said softly, placing a comforting arm around
her shoulders.
"So it was all part of some virtual reality program?" Devon
asked through her sobs.
"Yes, you agreed to it yourself." Yale was becoming
increasingly frustrated with the fact that Devon was unable to
remember. Perhaps Blalock had done more to her that was not part
of the contract.
Wiping her eyes, Devon told Yale, "Tell me about it."
"You know you were having trouble getting approval to go ahead
with the Eden Project."
Devon suddenly snorted. "Trouble? More like a conspiracy
against me!"
"
That's right, you do remember. When your son died, you made
a vow not to give up, to try and help save the millions of other
syndrome children. But you also sensed that you would face another
eight or more years of refusals and stumbling blocks. So when
Blalock proposed you take part in The Program, you agreed."
Yale searched Devon's face for any signals that she might
remember this, but there was none. The only thing that was real to
her now were her memories of the planet and the friends she had
made there, a place that did not exist in the way she believed.
"Go on," Devon prompted Yale. She was calming down. "Tell me
about The Program."
"Devon, what I'm about to repeat is what you, yourself, told me.
It was a very hushed thing, because they were using the latest
generation technology in virtual reality. It was supposed to be as
real as life itself, every sensation, every tiny detail so clear it
was as if it *were* reality.
"The only way you were ever going to get approval to lead the
Eden Project was if you proved that you could do it through this
program. They would throw every problem possible at you to see how
you reacted under stress, how atypical personalities reacted to
you, and how you would deal with not only personal conflicts but
group leadership as well."
"They also wanted to test Council loyalty," Devon realised
dully. "Well, I definitely failed in that respect."
She then sat quietly, trying to absorb all the information she had
been given.
"You were to be inside the program for approximately a year
and a half, and then, if you had proved yourself, you could return
to *your* Eden Project. That still may happen," offered Yale.
Devon suddenly stood up, angry now at what had been done to
her. How dare they take advantage of her like that, treating her
as no more than a laboratory rat! "I'm going to see Blalock.
Thank-you, Yale. You've been a great help."
"If you ever need me, I'm just a call away," he reminded her,
worried at Devon's rapid change of emotions. It would take her a
while to deal with losing her entire world in a matter of minutes.
"Thanks." Devon nodded to him and strode out of her quarters.
She was going to get some answers.
***
"All right, Blalock, you miserable, low-down piece of scum,"
Devon began, "what the hell did you do to me?"
The man was surprised. Perhaps Devon had learnt, or forgotten,
more than desired when immersed in the Program. Things such as
ignoring proper protocol for addressing a member of the Council.
"Devon," he said in his oily voice. "I don't think you're
stable enough to be talking to me. You seem a little -
disorientated."
"Only because of *you*," she shot back, her blue eyes
flashing. "I can handle death. I wouldn't have repressed my
memories like everyone thinks I did." She placed her hands on
Blalock's desk and leaned forward until her nose was inches from
his.
"I want to know what you did, and why." Devon's voice was
calm and controlled. "Otherwise, I'll publish it all over the News
Net."
"Why Devon, you wouldn't be threatening me, would you?"
She smiled sarcastically. "Oh no, of course not. I just thought
that there would be a lot of people out there who are *very
interested* in learning why the Eden Project was suddenly dropped."
She was bluffing, and Blalock suspected as much. There was no
way anyone could know the Council's hidden agenda, he barely knew
the basics himself. So he laughed aloud at Devon's threat.
"You think you're so powerful, Ms Adair," he said, stressing
her surname. "But you have no idea what you're dealing with. I'm
sorry, but your insignificant 'save-humanity' idea is nothing more
than a pawn in a much larger game. One that you will never be a
part of."
"Damn it, Blalock, why can't you just give me a straight
answer? What went wrong with the Program?"
The man smiled maliciously. He supposed there was no real
harm in telling her the truth, or some of it. In any case, her
reaction would just increase his fun.
Gesturing to the chair opposite his desk, Blalock invited,
"Take a seat. I presume I can tell you what you need to know."
Warily, Devon sat, prepared to not believe anything that sounded
even a little off base.
"Those in charge of the Program were unsure as to how accurate
your reactions would be, because you knew that you were in virtual
reality. They were prepared to dump the whole project, but I
convinced them to go ahead with it. In fact, you owe me a lot,
Devon." He leered at her, and she suppressed a shudder of disgust.
"So I contracted a drug to suppress your memories. We gave
you one initial dosage, and were convinced that in some small part
of your consciousness, you would realise that it wasn't quite real.
And as the drug wore off, more of your memories would return
although we could still be quite confident that we were obtaining
realistic reactions. Obviously, that did not happen."
Blalock neglected to mention the fact that the drug had been
repeatedly injected into Devon's body several times for the entire
duration of the virtual reality program. Devon was already
seething with anger and he saw no reason to make it worse.
"So you thought it was quite alright to experiment with my mind
like that." It was a statement, not a question. "What gives you
the right to do that to me? It wasn't in our original contract!"
Devon ran her fingers through her hair, appalled at the audacity of
the all-powerful Council.
"As I said before, Devon, it was necessary. In any case, I
personally believed you would see through the deception." Blalock
leaned back in his chair with a gesture of triumph while Devon's
eyes showed more confusion.
"Oh, come on, Devon! Did you really believe you were on some
alien planet? We threw something new at you every week!"
"Yeah, transcontinental spider tunnels. Colonies of people
living underground." She laughed mirthlessly as she finally
appreciated how contrived some of the situations had been. Whoever
wrote the script obviously hadn't cared much for continuity.
Smiling, Blalock said, "You see, Devon? You did realise that
many of the situations defied the laws of the natural order of
things."
"I chose to accept them as conditions unique to the planet."
Blalock chuckled loudly. "You really do amaze me sometimes.
I've had a wonderful time watching your 'adventures' over the past
months!"
Devon involuntarily flushed a deep red. How much of her so-
thought private world had he been privy to? It was just as well
that she and John Danziger hadn't become any closer...
...John. Her friends. A new wave of loss flooded through
Devon's soul as she thought of all the friendships she had made.
The people she cared about more than her own life were gone,
nothing more than virtual images. Gone...
She took a deep breath to calm herself, and fired more
questions at Blalock.
"Okay, so I was in virtual reality all this time. Why were
Yale and Uly there?" It pained her greatly to say Uly's name
aloud, but there would be time to grieve later.
"Ah, Uly. That was my doing."
Devon jumped from her chair and grabbed Blalock by the collar.
"You sonofa-" she began, and he tried to pull away.
"Control yourself, Devon!" Sweat beaded on his brow as he felt
the full fury of the woman before him. "I was trying to do you a
favour!"
"By deluding my sense of reality?"
"You were so upset when he died. I was giving you the chance
to have him live again. You achieved your dream, to see your son
healthy. Running, even!" Devon slowly released her grip on his
shirt.
"You should thank me," he completed.
Her mind spinning, Devon sank back into her chair. He was
right, in a way. For those months, she *had* been privileged to
see her son live in a way she'd never dreamed possible. But it
wasn't real...
"I will *never* thank you for that," she spat. Uly's memory
had been tarnished and twisted by Blalock's action, and Devon
realised that her memories of Uly would now be of him on G889, not
the sickly yet loving and wonderful boy he truly was.
Devon's thoughts returned to her original questions. "Yale,"
she stated. "Why was he there? You got *everything* perfect, his
voice, his mannerisms, his sense of pride and integrity. And I
know it wasn't the real Yale, my Yale."
"We're quite proud of that piece of technology," asserted
Blalock. His voice took on an excited tone. "Did you know, that
we are now able to clone a person's entire mind?! Using this
technology, it's a simple technique to insert a person into a
virtual reality program without them even being there!"
Hope began to glimmer inside Devon's heart. Perhaps her
friends were out there, they just didn't know her yet. Or what if
they, too, had been tested...
Forcing herself to remain outwardly calm, Devon said, "You're
telling me I was in a program full of copied personalities?"
Blalock laughed loudly. "No, of course not! Only one, or two
key players did we take from your life. The rest we had quite a
lot of fun designing. Dr Julia Heller was my personal
achievement!" he gloated. "Although we did have trouble with her
programming later on when you convinced her to turn away from the
Council. Quite well done, Devon. I didn't realise you had such
an influence. Then again, there have been a few cases of virtual
intelligence taking on their own characteristics."
Julia did not exist. The revelation was a physical blow to
Devon's mind. She could now clearly see Blalock behind her
personality, the sweet, innocent comrade who later was revealed
into a traitor. Devon reminded herself.
And the others... John, Bess, Morgan, Alonzo... wait, she
*knew* Alonzo in the real world as well.
"How the hell did you get Alonzo Solace to agree to a mind
copy?" Devon asked angrily. Alonzo was a friend from way back
who dropped in every few years as he completed a piloting run,
and Devon knew he would never agree to have himself copied in
such a manner.
"We thought it would be nice for you to see a couple of
familiar faces," replied Blalock, neatly dodging the question.
"That's not what I asked." Devon's eyes narrowed and her
voice took on a steely edge. "Did you get his permission?"
"Oh, what does it matter anyway?" said Blalock airily, and
then Devon knew that Alonzo's mind had been copied without his
knowledge or consent.
"Look, Devon," he interrupted her thoughts. "Do you have any
more questions? You've been here quite long enough, and while I do
enjoy your company," Devon winced at that one, "I have important
meetings to attend."
Glaring, Devon stood up. It was obvious no one really gave a
damn about her. She would have to pick up the pieces of her life
by herself, and watch out for Alonzo next time he came in.
"So sorry to have disturbed you," Devon said sarcastically.
Holding her head high, she turned as Blalock made one last attempt
at making himself look good.
"There is still hope, you know. The Program committee may well
give you the go ahead with the Eden Project."
Icily, Devon replied, "You and I both know that will never
happen. So don't bother trying to delude me. You've done quite
enough of that already." Not pausing to say goodbye, she strode
from the room, down the corridors as fast as she could, her features
a steely mask.
Only when she was alone, in her quarters, did she allow the
tears to fall as the composed facade of Ms Adair dissolved into
that of a very frightened, very confused and very alone Devon.
***
Time passed, but time was now meaningless to Devon. Numbly,
she called Yale every so often for companionship. He was busy
teaching the children of his new employers (or family) but he would
endeavour to visit in the evenings when he was able to. The
promise meant little to Devon, for Yale, too, was a stranger.
No. She was the stranger who couldn't face up to reality.
Devon had no desire to go out and confront the dull, grey world of
the stations. Not after she had known so much freedom. And lost
so much.
She raged against the Council, against the system, mentally
sending Blalock a dozen hate messages every day. He dropped by
frequently to 'check how she was doing'. More often than not Devon
threw him out. But nothing she did or thought would make any
difference in her life. In essence, she was a nobody. Her
corporations were run efficiently by trusted staff members, and now
it seemed her employees did not need, or even recognise, their
boss.
Devon had nothing to do in the sanitised world of the
stations. Word had come through that the Eden Project was scrapped
for good, and the funds would instead go to furthering research
into the cause of the Syndrome. Children were still dying every
day, and Devon could not bear to go near the hospitals as much as
she wanted to. Too many painful memories lurked there.
She checked the duty log for pilot Alonzo Solace, hoping to
find him close. But he was on a five year cold sleep run and would
not be back for another four of those years. Truly, Devon was
alone.
She walked the corridors during the night, when the lighting
was dim and shadows of the past seemed to lurk. Devon herself
became a ghostly presence that haunted the empty tunnels, her pale
image reflected from the grey, metal walls.
Devon did not know why she did this, but she searched the face
of every person she encountered, hoping against hope that she would
meet someone else who had been immersed in a program such as hers.
She knew she would recognise them, because of the emptiness her
eyes now held.
Gone were the sparkling blue orbs, they were lifeless and
drab, just as her hair had become. It grew long, but she did not
bother trimming it for there was no one to see anyway. Deep
shadows had gathered under her eyes and heavy lines marred her
once-youthful features. Devon did not care.
She recalled the feelings she had on the planet, no, in the
Program, she had to remind herself. The emotions of loving and
being loved, of belonging to a group and never being alone. And
now she was alone. She didn't see the point in going on.
***
It was another long, lonely night. Devon drifted beyond her
usual haunting ground to a level several decks higher. She
despondently traced a finger along the metallic strip painted along
the wall. This area of the stations appeared to be deserted,
reserved for the higher-up Council members who spent their nights
indulging in sleep.
Suddenly, Devon heard footsteps. Spontaneously, she looked up
although her mind was telling her,
A tallish, thin shape strode towards her, muttering under his
breath. Devon froze. She knew that voice...
"Morgan!" she called out instinctively.
The man's head snapped up, and Morgan Martin looked straight
through her.
"Do I know you?" he snapped rudely.
"Yes!" burst out Devon, feeling a river of emotions rush
through her. Hope at last. "Yes! I mean, no... I know you, but
you don't know me..." Her thoughts were confused as she tried to
express to Morgan the truth.
Morgan was shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I have a deadline to
meet. I don't have time for this." He made to walk past her, but
Devon called, "Wait!"
Sighing heavily, Morgan halted.
"How's Bess?" Devon asked frantically, searching for anything to
say.
"Who?"
"Your wife! Don't tell me they..."
Morgan abruptly cut her off. "I don't know who you've confused
me with, but I've never been married. Now if you'll *please* excuse
me."
As he pushed roughly past and walked off, Devon made no move
to stop him again. She stared at his retreating back in stunned
silence. Morgan Martin existed. Bess Martin did not. So who else
might exist? Who else had Blalock lied about?
The figure disappeared around a corner, and Devon felt
saddened. This Morgan was one who never had the chance to grow and
learn on G889, and learn how to be a truly pleasant person. And
Devon suspected there was nothing she could do to change the Morgan
Martin of the stations, especially as Bess didn't exist.
Or did she? What if there was such a person as Bess Klempt
who had never had the fortune (or misfortune) to meet up with
Morgan. It was possible that Blalock had mind-copied the entire
Eden Advance group. Or those whom Devon was close to, anyway.
Devon suddenly realised. Never
mind. If they were out there, *she* would find them and not be so
lonely anymore.
***
Devon knocked on Blalock's door to his personal quarters, her
heart pounding. Her hair was piled elegantly on top of her head,
styled with more attention than she had given it in weeks. In her
eyes was a new determination and will to live, to overcome the
horrors of her past and finally take charge of her own life.
Devon's face was perfectly made up, and gone were the heavy lines
of depression. Diamond earrings flashed as she tilted her head,
and they were the perfect offset to her sophisticated black outfit.
She was dressed to kill. Which was exactly what she intended to
do.
"Devon!" purred Blalock, his eyes tracing up and down her form
fitting dress. "So nice to see you again. I hope you've finally
gotten over that other business."
"You could say that," she replied, smiling mysteriously.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Blalock lightly took her hand. "Oh, of course, of course.
You're welcome to drop over anytime!" he simpered.
Devon allowed him to lead her inside and watched with
satisfaction as he locked the door behind her. By the
infatuated, leering expression on his face, Devon sensed that
everything was going exactly to plan.
Blalock motioned to her to sit down, and exited the room.
Momentarily, he returned with a bottle of wine (the non-alcoholic
equivalent - real alcohol had been outlawed years ago) and two
glasses. He seated himself across from Devon and poured them each
a drink.
"What brings you here?" he finally asked. "And may I say, you
do look wonderful." His gaze dropped downwards from her face yet
again.
"I came to see you, Dison" Devon whispered alluringly. "I
guess I missed you."
Blalock held her glass out to her, and she took a slow,
seductive sip. She'd never realised that Blalock would fall for
her act so easily, but now it was obvious that his hormones were a
major driving force behind the man.
Blalock lifted his own drink. Not taking his eyes from Devon
for even an instant, he toasted, "To us. To new friendships and
letting bygones be bygones. To us," he repeated. They drank in
respective silence.
Devon smiled demurely throughout the evening, making small
talk and every effort to ensure Blalock noticed her apparent
intentions. She did not flinch at all when Blalock leaned across
to gently take her hand. "You have such beautiful hands," Blalock
murmured. "Almost as beautiful as your eyes, and lips..."
Staring deep into Devon's eyes, he leaned across and kissed
her. A thousand thoughts of revulsion flitted through Devon's mind
yet she forced herself to respond. Blalock moved to sit beside her
and was soon caressing Devon's hair as their kisses grew deeper.
"Why did we wait so long?" he whispered into her neck. "You
know, I've loved you for a long time. I used to sit there, and
watch you for hours when you were in the Program." Devon clamped
her eyes shut, wishing desperately to be anywhere but here, but it
was all necessary. She could not leave until she got what she
wanted.
Devon felt Blalock's hand drift from tracing slow circles on
her back to the neckline of her dress, fingering the zipper.
She pulled back. "No," Devon told him. "Not yet."
With great restraint, Blalock forced himself to meet her eyes.
"Why not? Devon, you and I belong together."
She almost laughed aloud at the corny line but forced her
features to retain a composure of loving adoration.
"I can't do this until all the lies between us are absolved,"
Devon whispered into Blalock's ear, knowing the effect her nearness
was having on him.
"What lies?" he managed.
"Come on, Dison. I know you injected me with more drugs than
you claimed, didn't you?" This was a guess on Devon's part, and
Blalock's nodding confirmed her suspicions. Anger flared briefly
inside Devon, but she had more important things on her mind.
"And my computer...I still don't have complete access to the
station's records." She let her hands drift over Blalock's chest
as she smiled at him.
"My sweet Devon, what do you need complete access for anyway?"
"I'm so lonely, Dison. If I could only see what was going on
in the stations, know the exciting details of your projects, then
maybe I would be a lot happier."
"You can always count on me to cheer you up," Blalock offered,
lunging for her neck again. Devon sighed almost imperceptibly.
"I know that, but we need to be able to trust each other.
Otherwise, I'll have to leave," she petulantly stated as if she
were a young child again.
Blalock finally relented. "You're right, I shouldn't keep
such things from you. The release code for your computer is alpha-
kappa-139." Devon committed the code to memory and whispered, "Are
you sure?"
"Yes!" he moaned in frustration as he crushed his lips on hers
again. Devon stiffly pulled away.
"Blalock, as much as I like you, I think this has gone far
enough," she asserted. "I'd better leave."
Momentarily shocked, Blalock did nothing as she stood up and
strode towards the room's exit. However, he soon began to seethe
with anger at being taken advantage of.
Devon hurried to the door, rapidly punching the access panel
in an attempt to unlock it, but all too soon, she felt Blalock's
heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Going somewhere, Ms Adair?"
"Leave me alone, Blalock." She was trembling with fear, not
knowing what he might do in such a rage. However, she never
suspected what he would do next. "We're finished," Devon stated,
trying to punch in the access code yet again with her shaking
fingers.
"I don't think so." He roughly pulled her away from the door,
and slapped her across the face. She gasped in pain and he threw
her across the room so that she fell back onto the couch.
"I don't like being taken advantage of." Blalock advanced
towards her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I think it's time to
finish what you started."
"Get away from me!" Devon screamed, one hand to her stinging
cheek. She shuffled backwards on the couch, but Blalock was too
fast.
He knelt above her, and Devon's heart was pounding with dread.
Blalock began to kiss her again, pinning her arms down with his
strong hands. She writhed under him in a desperate attempt to get
away but realised that he was far too strong. Much stronger than
she had anticipated.
Blalock began muttering, "Who did you think you were, coming
in here dressed like that?" He savagely tore at her lips, and then
her neck, and all the while Devon was silently screaming as
he pressed his body closer and closer to hers. <...please...>
Eventually, Blalock released one of her arms so that he could
attack the zip on her dress.
With her free hand, Devon uselessly tried to push Blalock off
of her, then gave up as she realised he *wanted* her to fight. It
was time to use her last resort. Twisting underneath the bulky
man, Devon's hand inched lower and lower until she could finally
reach her shoe. And the weapon that was secreted inside the heel.
With a new burst of energy, Devon wrenched herself backwards.
She heard a terrible ripping sound as her dress was torn, but she
didn't care. Clothes were nothing when compared to her personal
integrity.
She pushed the small firearm to Blalock's temple, and he
froze. Even though she was gasping for air and fighting tears of
humiliation, Devon forced her voice to remain calm. "Blalock.
If you don't let me go right this second, I am going to blow your
brains out."
Blalock stared hard at her, seemingly unperturbed by this
change in events. "How do I know you're not bluffing?"
"You want me to use it? Because I *will* use it, you know!"
Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch. "I *will* kill you!"
"Devon, Devon, there's no need to get so violent," he chided.
She didn't notice his almost imperceptible trembling because she
was shaking so hard herself.
Devon began to extract herself from underneath Blalock while
her weapon remained firmly trained on his head. Her breath was
coming in small gasps as she used her other hand to hold her dress
together. "Back away. I want you on the floor. Move it!" Devon
screamed when he didn't move.
Blalock stared at her, his eyes full of hatred. Ever so
slowly he crawled backwards, not breaking eye contact even once.
"Okay, Devon, whatever you SAY!" he roared as he lunged towards
her and viciously knocked her arm aside. The weapon went flying
across the room.
She screamed as his foot connected with her chest in a brutal
kick, feeling the delicate bones of her ribcage shatter. Devon
flew backwards and her head cracked against the wall.
"Nobody threatens me!" yelled Blalock as he marched over to her
and began to kick her crumpled body over and over like a man
possessed. Devon moaned, but she would not show weakness. She would
not cry.
Grabbing Devon by the shoulders, Blalock forced her to look at
him. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek from her temple, the
red so vivid on her deathly pale face.
"Now," Blalock spat, so close that Devon could smell his foul
breath, "I want you to beg for your life."
Defiantly, she said, "No."
"Was that a 'no' I heard?" Blalock repeated, throwing her back
against the wall and smiling in pleasure as he heard the dull thud
of her head striking metal again. "Perhaps I didn't make myself
clear. You are going to die...unless you beg."
Devon could taste blood inside her mouth, and knew she was
close to dying anyway. Her whole body was on fire as agony
ploughed its way through every nerve ending. Still, she would not
give in, would never give in.
"I...SAID...NO!" Devon screamed and with a final burst of
energy, lifted one foot and kicked hard. Blalock staggered back,
momentarily stunned by the ferocity of her attack. That was all
she needed.
Devon launched herself at him, screaming and pounding and
kicking as all the frustration and anger of the last few months
came out against this one man who had orchestrated it all. Her
nails tore at his face in acts of revenge as she released her fury.
Blalock's retaliation was equally powerful. They twisted and
flipped, until he was on top of her again. Blood clouded his
vision, dripping down from the cuts on his forehead, but he would
not let her go this time. He reached for her neck...
...and suddenly Devon held the upper hand and kneed him in the
groin. Devon saw Blalock gasp in pain, and she jumped back and
scanned the room desperately. There it was!
She raced to the far corner and grabbed her weapon. Hearing
Blalock grunt behind her and sensing he was moving, she whirled and
fired wildly.
Blalock dropped back to the floor. His eyes were full of fear
as he realised that Devon was too far gone to be reasoned with.
Still, he could try... "Devon-" he began.
She aimed her weapon, and fired. Again and again, firing as
if she would never stop, her eyes blazing from her bloodstained
face. Her dress hung from one shoulder, her ribs cried out for
attention yet she noticed none of these things. Her revenge was
complete.
She did not stop shooting until Station Security finally broke
down the door and took her away. Alone.
END "The Shattering of the Dream".
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