finished writing and showed him the paper.
Irregularities in K’s upkeep. Broken bones, no abuse on camera. Healed.
L5. Shit heals fast, Zeke scribbled. The higher the level of the alucinator, the better his or her recuperation. It was attributed to the Somnium’s physical fitness and dietary requirements—yeah, they micromanaged that too—but a few fringe theories insisted it had something to do with dreamspace. He had a vague memory of that being a pet project of some vigil, but he didn’t stay up to date on medical crap.
Adi puzzled over Zeke’s sloppy scrawl before responding. K heals in days.
That was some speedy recovery. Zeke gave his hair a tug, thinking.
Not broke, he wrote.
Very broken. 3 places. Adishakti wasn’t a degreed medical doctor, but no doubt actual doctors had treated Karen.
Tamper with security feed?
Second camera. Secret.
Incredible. Super vigil Adishakti Sharma had gone so far as to place a hidden camera. Now she was covertly involving him and Maggie in her investigation. Zeke liked and trusted her—but he trusted the other vigils too. He hoped he wasn’t placing his faith in the wrong one.
Dream coma, he wrote. Wraith broke arm.
Perhaps. Adi didn’t look convinced. Broken bones weren’t a wraith-style attack.
Other wounds?
None.
In the terra firma, wraiths sucked blood and devoured flesh, bite by bite. Lacerations, gashes, tears, punctures, and tooth and claw marks were the result. In the trance sphere, they struck the same way while consuming a dreamer’s sanity.
They’d starve their asses off if they tried to make a meal of Karen’s brain. This was assuming she was in danger and not one of the monsters herself.
Concerned with healing , Adi added.
Who knows? Zeke asked.
About breaks—many. About healing—myself, Blake, 2 med personnel. Sworn to silence.
Adi had been hiding something from Blake at the checkpoint. Blake know all or just healing?
Just healing. Adi’s expression became more revealing than usual. Her smooth, brown forehead creased, and she seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. Like she was trying to hold back words she wanted to say. Concerns she wanted to share.
She was worried. Like he had to take a leap trusting her, she was taking a leap bringing him in. Then again, she needed his cooperation.
Other vigils? Zeke wrote. Curators?
A tiny, negative shake of the head. After handing the pad to Maggie, she crossed the room, into view of the camera. She calmly adjusted Karen’s pillow as if performing routine maintenance. She jotted a few notations on the chart at the end of Karen’s bed and returned to the camera-free zone.
“Kingsbury has started to show signs of the same physical decline as the other patients,” she told Zeke and Maggie for the camera’s benefit.
Adi was doing well pretending nothing sneaky was going on. The camera monitored the patient, not other occupants of the room. The Somnium had its share of schemers, but unlike many governments, employees shared a single driving goal: protect the world from manifestations. It made for a less contentious political machine.
The lack of opposing organizations helped.
“None of the other patients,” Adi continued out loud, “have been able to communicate with our staff, whether they were matriculated or not.”
“That’s standard in a dream coma, right?” Maggie asked.
“Absolutely. You’ve learned a great deal in a short time, Maggie,” Adi confirmed. The sufferer became lost, trapped in the dream dimension, unable to escape the constant barrage of wraiths. Slow, painful disintegration of shield and sanity was the result. A medical coma was kinder than a dream coma. Vigils could trap another alucinator in a dream coma, if needed—but it was never needed.
Vigils and Karen Kingsbury.
“If a patient isn’t roused from a dream coma quickly, chances of emergence become slim to none,” Adi’s clear, melodious voice explained. “Escape generally requires intervention
Irregularities in K’s upkeep. Broken bones, no abuse on camera. Healed.
L5. Shit heals fast, Zeke scribbled. The higher the level of the alucinator, the better his or her recuperation. It was attributed to the Somnium’s physical fitness and dietary requirements—yeah, they micromanaged that too—but a few fringe theories insisted it had something to do with dreamspace. He had a vague memory of that being a pet project of some vigil, but he didn’t stay up to date on medical crap.
Adi puzzled over Zeke’s sloppy scrawl before responding. K heals in days.
That was some speedy recovery. Zeke gave his hair a tug, thinking.
Not broke, he wrote.
Very broken. 3 places. Adishakti wasn’t a degreed medical doctor, but no doubt actual doctors had treated Karen.
Tamper with security feed?
Second camera. Secret.
Incredible. Super vigil Adishakti Sharma had gone so far as to place a hidden camera. Now she was covertly involving him and Maggie in her investigation. Zeke liked and trusted her—but he trusted the other vigils too. He hoped he wasn’t placing his faith in the wrong one.
Dream coma, he wrote. Wraith broke arm.
Perhaps. Adi didn’t look convinced. Broken bones weren’t a wraith-style attack.
Other wounds?
None.
In the terra firma, wraiths sucked blood and devoured flesh, bite by bite. Lacerations, gashes, tears, punctures, and tooth and claw marks were the result. In the trance sphere, they struck the same way while consuming a dreamer’s sanity.
They’d starve their asses off if they tried to make a meal of Karen’s brain. This was assuming she was in danger and not one of the monsters herself.
Concerned with healing , Adi added.
Who knows? Zeke asked.
About breaks—many. About healing—myself, Blake, 2 med personnel. Sworn to silence.
Adi had been hiding something from Blake at the checkpoint. Blake know all or just healing?
Just healing. Adi’s expression became more revealing than usual. Her smooth, brown forehead creased, and she seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. Like she was trying to hold back words she wanted to say. Concerns she wanted to share.
She was worried. Like he had to take a leap trusting her, she was taking a leap bringing him in. Then again, she needed his cooperation.
Other vigils? Zeke wrote. Curators?
A tiny, negative shake of the head. After handing the pad to Maggie, she crossed the room, into view of the camera. She calmly adjusted Karen’s pillow as if performing routine maintenance. She jotted a few notations on the chart at the end of Karen’s bed and returned to the camera-free zone.
“Kingsbury has started to show signs of the same physical decline as the other patients,” she told Zeke and Maggie for the camera’s benefit.
Adi was doing well pretending nothing sneaky was going on. The camera monitored the patient, not other occupants of the room. The Somnium had its share of schemers, but unlike many governments, employees shared a single driving goal: protect the world from manifestations. It made for a less contentious political machine.
The lack of opposing organizations helped.
“None of the other patients,” Adi continued out loud, “have been able to communicate with our staff, whether they were matriculated or not.”
“That’s standard in a dream coma, right?” Maggie asked.
“Absolutely. You’ve learned a great deal in a short time, Maggie,” Adi confirmed. The sufferer became lost, trapped in the dream dimension, unable to escape the constant barrage of wraiths. Slow, painful disintegration of shield and sanity was the result. A medical coma was kinder than a dream coma. Vigils could trap another alucinator in a dream coma, if needed—but it was never needed.
Vigils and Karen Kingsbury.
“If a patient isn’t roused from a dream coma quickly, chances of emergence become slim to none,” Adi’s clear, melodious voice explained. “Escape generally requires intervention
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