"Peter? I know this is a sudden proposition, but you have to come to a decision soon. You're the one most likely to have a successful operation out of all the candidates, but if you can't handle it, we can find someone else. You aren't special by any means, just more likely to succeed then the rest. This can be yours if you want."
"And the money? How does that work? You should know better than to think I'll do this for free Kuna."
"Peter, its never been about the money. Think of all we could accomplish with this! If it works, we wouldn't ever need to worry about money."
"Kuna, if it works, it'll be your name over everything. Your name. Not your guinea pigs. Now, I want to know that I won't fall off the edge of the books on this one."
"And here I thought we were friends."
"We are. Thats why I'm considering this Kuna. Is it really worth it? For you? For me? For whats going to happen?"
"Yes. It will be."
"And the other Candidates? What will happen to them?"
"Well Peter, thats what we're talking about. You know what happens to them. Thats why we're offering it to you first, that way you won't become another tool."
"Is that what it comes too? We really aren't friends then, are we?"
"Oh we are. More than you can imagine. But this needs to happen. So choose. You have until morning."
"Sounds like I need some new friends then"
Kuna laughed gently under her breath. Rising from her seat in the little room in which she had been talking to Peter she headed for the door, a light grey, the only thing breaking the monotonous white that was the walls, ceiling, and floor save for the two chairs, and the small cot. Those happened to be a light grey like the door.
"Some new friends might do you good Peter. But you know how hard it is for you to find those. And besides, if you make the right choice, you'll be making plenty of new friends anyways." Kuna said in parting, putting light emphasis on friends as she closed the grey door behind her.
There was a small hiss as the door sealed.
"Damn." Peter muttered under his breath getting up from his seat. "Puppets. That's all we are. Puppets."
Peter fell asleep on the cot some time later repeating his mantra.
"Puppets. Thats all we are."
It had been a month since my last dream of that Peter guy, and as soon as I start feeling like he's gone, I have the one dream that started it all. Peter talking to the marten.
Whats weird is I know Kuna in real life. She almost got me a job in the company she works with, CrossTechD, a developer of the dreamer technology that everyone threw a fit about a couple years back. The second five day war, between insurgents and dreamer tech users against local governments over the further use and development of dreamer tech. It was a mess, left hundreds dead across the world, and all over what started as video game tech. Anyways, she works in the research department, figuring out new ways to use the stuff. She's a genius, but sadly she missed her mark when she went into developing technology for video games. She went to school for psychophysiology, but she ended up in CrossTechD. Strange stuff.
But I'm not complaining. She tried her best to get me a position working for her company, but after a couple interviews that sounded really good, the position fell through. And I went on my way. Kuna pulled a couple more strings though, and they gave me a recommendation that got me a job at a sister company as a janitor. With hellishly good pay. Basically, they pay me a ridiculously high amount, as a salaried staff, which is insane, to replace light bulbs. Doesn't make sense to me either, but it pays the bills, and it pays off at the bars as well.
I just mention the paycheck amount, not the position. It usually does the trick, especially when backed by the wad of green purposefully left poking a little out of the wallet. I also have the edge of a tagger poking out as well. I've had to use it as well. There was one time when someone took a little bit too long of a look at the money and followed me out of the bar to make some less than friendly advances. Big guy too - not my type at all. Took two or three hits from the tagger before the paralyzing agents in the darts took effect and knocked him out. Long enough for him to get two good punches in, leaving me with a broken nose and a black eye. Unluckily for him, he owed people money. Some serious people. Too the best of my knowledge thats why he followed me out of the bar. Anyways, these people came out of the bar, and basically tripped over his paralyzed body. And all of his debts happened to be past due.
Haven't seen him since. And people don't mention his name or what happened to him either. Guess he was down long enough not to be able to put up a fight. Worked out for the serious people as well as for me - no one tries to lift my money, and every one tries a littler harder to make sure they don't wait to long to repay what they've borrowed.
I sit there though, gasping. The dream was so vivid... I would swear it was me, not Peter in it, except Kuna was calling me Peter, and she wouldn't ever do that. She knows me. We even dated casually for a bit. But that doesn't matter. This was the same dream that started everything. Back when I was like six. Except - I didn't know Kuna back then. And this was the first time I recognized her, which was odd.
I get up and out of bed and head to the shower. This was to much. I make it almost to the shower, collapsing on the bathroom floor in a cold sweat. I vomit, gagging as I try to hold myself up and not throw up on myself, but it doesn't work. I fall back onto the floor, my soaked shirt to wet with sweat to really pick up any of my leftover dinner.
After a few minutes of chilled shivering, I manage to weakly get up and turn on the shower. I slump into the shower, half sitting, leaned up against the wall as the warm water pours over me, fully clothed. I lean my head back, opening my mouth, letting the water wash my hair back, filling my mouth and spilling out and over, washing away the taste of bile and the smell from my nose. Steam fills the bathroom, and theres a chipped tile from my watch hitting the floor. The half shattered image is a purple flower, lavender. As I look at it in a daze, it becomes dimmed by the steam. The whole bathroom is filled, a pale ghastly whitish grey hiding objects, making even the cabinet just a dim shadow.
I look down at my arms and scream, muffled by the steam, even to my ears. The water, initially warm, has become scalding without my notice. My arms are now bright red and white, dead skin peeling and rolling off to either side, trying to escape the hot water. Suddenly I switch from not noticing the pain or the heat to hyper aware. Each single drop is a quiet explosion, fiery lances digging into my flesh, all up and down my body, my clothing barely protecting me from the fiery war. I'm in such shock, I can't even move, and I just sit there, pain seeming to settle as a blanket over me, slowly feeding itself on my body, slowly, oh so slowly working its way down to my core, leaving behind fire as it moves on.
I come too, lying on the bottom of my shower still. Icy cold water pouring out of the shower head revitalizing me, leaving pucker marks on my fresh skin as it heals. I look over and through the glass shower door my eyes settle on the broken tile again. It lays there, unable to help itself.
Just like me.
Broken.
But I'm not complaining. She tried her best to get me a position working for her company, but after a couple interviews that sounded really good, the position fell through. And I went on my way. Kuna pulled a couple more strings though, and they gave me a recommendation that got me a job at a sister company as a janitor. With hellishly good pay. Basically, they pay me a ridiculously high amount, as a salaried staff, which is insane, to replace light bulbs. Doesn't make sense to me either, but it pays the bills, and it pays off at the bars as well.
I just mention the paycheck amount, not the position. It usually does the trick, especially when backed by the wad of green purposefully left poking a little out of the wallet. I also have the edge of a tagger poking out as well. I've had to use it as well. There was one time when someone took a little bit too long of a look at the money and followed me out of the bar to make some less than friendly advances. Big guy too - not my type at all. Took two or three hits from the tagger before the paralyzing agents in the darts took effect and knocked him out. Long enough for him to get two good punches in, leaving me with a broken nose and a black eye. Unluckily for him, he owed people money. Some serious people. Too the best of my knowledge thats why he followed me out of the bar. Anyways, these people came out of the bar, and basically tripped over his paralyzed body. And all of his debts happened to be past due.
Haven't seen him since. And people don't mention his name or what happened to him either. Guess he was down long enough not to be able to put up a fight. Worked out for the serious people as well as for me - no one tries to lift my money, and every one tries a littler harder to make sure they don't wait to long to repay what they've borrowed.
I sit there though, gasping. The dream was so vivid... I would swear it was me, not Peter in it, except Kuna was calling me Peter, and she wouldn't ever do that. She knows me. We even dated casually for a bit. But that doesn't matter. This was the same dream that started everything. Back when I was like six. Except - I didn't know Kuna back then. And this was the first time I recognized her, which was odd.
I get up and out of bed and head to the shower. This was to much. I make it almost to the shower, collapsing on the bathroom floor in a cold sweat. I vomit, gagging as I try to hold myself up and not throw up on myself, but it doesn't work. I fall back onto the floor, my soaked shirt to wet with sweat to really pick up any of my leftover dinner.
After a few minutes of chilled shivering, I manage to weakly get up and turn on the shower. I slump into the shower, half sitting, leaned up against the wall as the warm water pours over me, fully clothed. I lean my head back, opening my mouth, letting the water wash my hair back, filling my mouth and spilling out and over, washing away the taste of bile and the smell from my nose. Steam fills the bathroom, and theres a chipped tile from my watch hitting the floor. The half shattered image is a purple flower, lavender. As I look at it in a daze, it becomes dimmed by the steam. The whole bathroom is filled, a pale ghastly whitish grey hiding objects, making even the cabinet just a dim shadow.
I look down at my arms and scream, muffled by the steam, even to my ears. The water, initially warm, has become scalding without my notice. My arms are now bright red and white, dead skin peeling and rolling off to either side, trying to escape the hot water. Suddenly I switch from not noticing the pain or the heat to hyper aware. Each single drop is a quiet explosion, fiery lances digging into my flesh, all up and down my body, my clothing barely protecting me from the fiery war. I'm in such shock, I can't even move, and I just sit there, pain seeming to settle as a blanket over me, slowly feeding itself on my body, slowly, oh so slowly working its way down to my core, leaving behind fire as it moves on.
I come too, lying on the bottom of my shower still. Icy cold water pouring out of the shower head revitalizing me, leaving pucker marks on my fresh skin as it heals. I look over and through the glass shower door my eyes settle on the broken tile again. It lays there, unable to help itself.
Just like me.
Broken.
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