The Dream Snatcher Chronicles - Chapter 10

382

The Waking World

"Boys!" Mom's voice. "Get up! I have to take those pigs
to market. Dad already loaded them. One of you has to go
to help out."

I rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bunk bed. "Do
you think we royally messed that up?"

Jake yawned, but remained out of sight. "Messed what
up?"

"You don't remember?"

"Hmmm? Oh, the dream." He stood up and scratched
himself. "I know it ended with the General smashing my
head in with a wretch. I don't know much else..." He
trailed off, looking at me. "What?"

"You were inside the coffin with Meyer. You are the only
one who knows what we have to do."

"Oh, crap." He looked frightened. "I remember that part,
but I can't remember what I saw." He bit his knuckle.
"Dang it!"

"Boys!" Mom again.

"We're up!" I called out. I jumped off the bunk and pulled
some clothes out of the dresser. "Maybe something will
jog your memory. We need to go check on Gretchen."

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383

The Dream Snatcher's words, as terrifying as they might
be in the Underlay, might be nothing but bravado and hot
air in the Waking World.

Jake and I got dressed and rushed up the basement steps.
Mom stood in the kitchen cooking oatmeal on the stove.
Emily sat at the table, dressed for the day, blonde hair
combed neatly.

"I'll go wake up Gretchen," I volunteered.

"No, sit down at the table," Mom said. "We need to eat
and get out of here. I already told Gretchen to get up."

Jake leveled an unsettling look at me. Was it coming back
to him? He conjured a smile on his face and stepped up to
the stove. "Wow, Mom! This looks great!"

Mom ignored the compliment, tossing back her head,
nearly snapping Jake in the face with her single chestnut
braid. "I know, now go sit like I said."

I sat down, drumming my fingers on the table and waiting
for Gretchen to make an appearance. Mom threw six
bowls on the table and served out ladles of oatmeal. Dad
entered the kitchen, stomping his boots and shaking snow
on the kitchen floor.

"You'll need to be careful out there today, Candy. It's
snowing pretty hard." He sat at the head of the table, said

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384

a blessing and began eating. "Which of you is going with
Mom?"

"I will," I said. If Jake's memory needed to be jogged it
probably wouldn't happen on a trip to Flint to sell pigs.

Dad looked around the kitchen. "Where's Gretchen? I
have to leave for that appointment in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, she didn't actually get up," Emily said. "I was up
there using the bathroom and she was still in bed."

"I swear she was moving around," Mom sighed and put
the leftover oatmeal back on the stove. She went to the
foot of the staircase and called out.

"Gretchen!"

No response. Jake and I slowly raised a spoon of oatmeal
to our mouths in unison and ate mechanically. I kept my
eyes front and avoided looking at Dad, afraid I'd break
down if Gretchen didn't respond.

"I'm up... I'm up..." A groggy voice sounded from the top
of the staircase. My heartbeat returned to a semblance of
normalcy.

"Are you ok?" Mom said, much quieter and the tone in
her voice caused us to look up sharply.

"I'm... I'm..." A body came crashing down the staircase.

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385

"Gretchen!" Mom yelled. I jumped up from the table.
Dad, nearer the staircase, got there first.

"What in the world is going on?" he thundered.

I arrived and peered from behind his massive body. Mom
cradled Gretchen at the foot of the staircase. Her pale face
and wild bed hair made me think of Meyer's slime
covered body behind the faceplate of the space coffin. Her
eyes were closed and her pajamas stuck to her body from
where sweat had seeped through.

"I don't know!" Mom cried. "She fell down the staircase,
head first!"

Dad tried to get a response from her without success.
"She's still got a pulse." He confirmed. He looked at me
standing in the background. "Go call 911!"

The ambulance arrived twenty minutes later, although it
felt like time had strung out into days and weeks instead
of minutes. Mom and Dad moved Gretchen to the sofa
where they continued to monitor her. Her situation did not
change.

What was her situation? My mind provided unhelpful
questions. Did the Dream Snatcher actually possess the
power required to influence the Waking World on this
scale? I no longer had confidence that the Waking World
remained beyond the power of the Dream Snatcher.

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386

Dad held Mom with one arm as the emergency
technicians took her vitals and asked Mom and Dad
questions.

"She came to the top of the staircase and teeter-tottered
back and forth... like she was drugged or something,"
Mom managed to say between tears. Dad gruffly
responded to questions, but in his eyes, I saw something
I'd never seen before in my life—fear. Fear of the
unknown. He did not have a clue what had happened or
what was wrong with his daughter. Any guess as to her
condition rested with me and Jacob. No one would
believe us. They remained solidly fixed in a world that
contained unspoken rules that could never be broken.

The EMTs loaded her into the ambulance and Mom rode
with them to the hospital. Dad stared mutely after the
departing vehicle, arms dangling by his side. He turned,
walked inside and called to cancel his meeting.

He hung up the phone and blinked his eyes several times
before addressing Jacob and me. "I'm going into the
hospital to be with your Mom and check on Gretchen. I
need you to go back and unload the pigs I got in the
trailer. Keep an eye on Emily and the animals today and
don't do anything stupid."

I never asked Dad to change his mind after he gave an
order. His word was law, despite the furious battles he'd
fought with Mike when Mike was a teenager. I'd learned

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387

from second-hand experience that Dad almost always
won or fought to a draw. It didn't stop me from asking this
time.

"Dad," I said. "Let us go with you to the hospital. We can
get Mr. Vanhoose to feed the animals. And I promise
we'll get the pigs out of the trailer when we get back
home. They'll be ok out there for a few hours." He looked
at me, surprised that I had spoken. "Please."

He got his keys off the kitchen counter without replying. I
held my breath. A delay meant he was seriously
considering it. He put the keys in his pocket and spoke
without looking at us.

"Call Mr. Vanhoose and ask him. If he is home and says
'yes' you can go with me. I'll be in the truck."

Mr. Vanhoose said yes.

+++

Snow whooshed by the windshield as Dad drove through
the streets of Greenville towards the hospital. Jake and I
sat in the front cab of the truck. Emily sat in the back with
tears rolling down her cheeks, her silence occasionally
broken by a sniffle. Jake sat in the middle seat next to
Dad and I sat by the door. No opportunity to talk openly.
Dad seemed so absorbed in his driving he probably
wouldn't have noticed anyway.

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388

At the hospital, Dad parked the car and escorted us
through a series of elevators and hallways until we arrived
at Gretchen's hospital room. Two nurses worked near her
bed—one starting an IV and the other arranging the sheets
around her. Mom sat in the far corner of the room looking
pitifully small and scared and out of place. Gretchen's
face remained bloodless although someone seemed to
have taken the time to try and smooth out her wild hair.
Probably Mom. Gretchen's cheeks looked sunken in like
the starving girl we'd found in the Necromancer's world.

Is this it? Is Gretchen lost to us forever, some part of her
corrupted by the Dream Snatcher?

"Oh, boys, you shouldn't have come," Mom said when she
saw us.

"I wanted to," I reassured her. "I asked Dad to let us
come."

"Yeah, Mr. Vanhoose is watching the farm. We'll go back
in a few hours," Jake said.

Dad didn't say anything. He remained awkwardly
standing to one side of the door until the nurses finished
and left the room.

"What do they think?" He asked once they left.

"They don't know what to think," Mom said. "The doctor
only gave her a preliminary screening."

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389

Silence reigned for a few moments.

Jake cleared his throat. "I saw a restroom down the hall.
I'm going to use it real quick." He looked at me. "Tag
along?"

"Yeah, sure," I said.

We stepped into the hall and shut the door.

"It's coming back," he hissed to me. "I had to get us out of
there so we could talk." We walked down the hall towards
the restrooms. "Dr. Meyer told us the truth. It's the
windmill. The wired windmill as he called it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it all, but when we pulled out of the
driveway and I saw the wind mill staring at us, I knew
that is how they were gaining access to your dreams."

"First off, the windmill is an inanimate object, so it can't
stare at anything. Second, it makes no sense. We are in
the house. The windmill is probably three hundred feet
from us and across a road."

We pushed open the bathroom door. It was empty. Jake
locked the door and turned to me. "When I was in that
slime with Dr. Meyer I saw things. Flashes of how they
invade your dreams. Dr. Meyer built these things, one of
them called an amplifier. The human brain puts out a
signal when it is dreaming. The windmill, however it all

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390

works, is the amplifier. It's broadcasting your dream. That
is how the Underlay is formed each night. The signal is so
strong it is blotting out everything else. We are but mere
players that have been pulled into the Underlay."

"Ok."

"You seemed to accept that rather easily."

I shrugged and sat down heavily on a diaper changing
station. "How else am I supposed to take it? Whatever
you discovered is the only thing we have to go on. If you
told me that the Dream Snatcher uses carrier pigeons to
plant dreams in my brain I'd not have much choice but to
believe you."

"Good, since you've come an inch you might as well go a
mile. This next part isn't easy to tell you. "

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what parts of what I say end up in
that brain of yours. We know that Monument 084 only
partially protects your senses. I could tell you everything I
know and somehow the Dream Snatcher will already be
one step ahead of us. It's the key to opening the Stedgate
to the Black Satellite."

His face appeared ghostly in the fluorescent light. He
didn't want to say it out loud, but he couldn't be sure he

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391

could trust me. I wasn't offended in the least. I was no
longer sure I could trust myself.

"Let's settle for this... can you tell me what the Black
Satellite is? They called it the first monument when I was
in the World Between, but that doesn't offer much
insight."

Jacob folded his arms. "I saw bits and pieces. It's some
kind of device that has been transmitting a message across
space for millions, maybe even billions of years.
Something that can't be detected in the Waking World.
Dr. Meyer saw the message when he used the
Dreamsphere. And that message contained information on
manipulating and invading other dreamers."

"Like the Dream Snatcher does to me."

"Yes. That is how he made the monuments and haunted
your dreams for all these years. The reason being is that
the Black Satellite message is incomplete. There is
another part of the message. That is why Dr. Meyer
launched his consciousness across the stars. He was
goaded by the Dream Snatcher into retrieving the full
message, even if it ended up killing him."

"So what's the big secret?" I asked. "What is the full
message from the Black Satellite?

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392

"I don't know. Or, more accurately, Dr. Meyer only
showed us the next step. Even in death, he purposely hid
the secret from the Dream Snatcher."

"Does it involve sending our consciousness across
space?"

"No. There is a method to reach the Black Satellite." He
paused. "I don't want to tell you until we are actually in
the dream."

"That's fine," I said.

"Well, this next part may not be so fine. The Dream
Snatcher is Dr. Meyer's son."

Jake's statement made no sense to me. I remembered the
words Gretchen had spoken as the placeholder of Meyer,
but I failed to make any correlation with the Dream
Snatcher. He was a monster, crawling and clawing
through the recesses of my mind. A parent implied some
sort of humanity, even if I believed it to be long snuffed
out.

"Everything else you said was so much easier to believe,"
I muttered.

Jake shrugged. "I didn't think you would like that, but it is
true. The one thing I know for certain even if everything
else is questionable." Jacob continued. "The Dream
Snatcher, Selene, General Kobetz and Meyer. They are all

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393

connected. With the exception of Meyer they are agreed
that retrieving the complete message from the Black
Satellite is worth any sacrifice. We don't mean anything to
them. A small bump in the road for whatever message the
Black Satellite is spewing out."

I considered what Jake said. A glimmer of a plan, a path
out of hell began to form in my mind.

Jake continued speaking. "So do we give them what they
want? If they need me to explain how to open the
Stedgate and they need you to actually open it, we may be
able to bargain to get Gretchen back."

I shook my head. "No. We have to beat them to it. If the
Dream Snatcher is able to manipulate the Underlay on
this scale, there is no saying what he'll be able to do with
the full message. We need to go to the Black Satellite
without them. Maybe find a way to destroy it. Maybe use
the complete message against them."

"How do we get there first?"

"By sending ourselves into the dream world for a much
longer period of time, at a point in time they don't expect.
Obviously, we always are sleeping at night. We need to
change that and put ourselves under."

Jake looked at me, pondering. "Put ourselves under?
What did you have in mind? Because if you plan on
bashing me over the head that only gets one of us under."

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394

"I was thinking of something with a bit more finesse.
Sleep aids of some sort."

"I got twenty bucks from shoveling driveways. You
convince Dad to stop at the store and I'll buy us some
Nyquil."

"That may do the trick, although I'm thinking more along
the lines of melatonin, the sleep aid Mom used to give to
me when I had nightmares as a child. Not that it stopped
them, but it did put me back to sleep."

Jake shook his head. "Oh, that thing you looked up at the
library. Is it safe?"

"It's a natural hormone our body produces," I said. "The
key to utilizing it to its full effect will be to go without
sleep for 24 hours. Then we take the drug and experience
REM rebound. Our body has to make up for the sleep we
lost. That should give us the perfect window to access the
Underlay without the Dream Snatcher finding out."

"Unless he somehow monitors you around the clock. How
in the world do you know all this anyhow?"

"I spent a bunch of time on my research. Work at the
library gets slow in the evenings."

"I'm impressed." He chuckled. "But only if this actually
works."

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395

"Come on, we better get back before Mom and Dad
wonder what happened to us."

We exited the bathroom and returned to the hospital
room. A doctor with spectacles and a smooth bald head
stood talking to Mom and Dad. He wasn't much taller
than Mom. Dad dwarfed the doctor, but with his
shoulders slumped and his face drawn he looked defeated.
I wished I could tell him my mad story and our desperate
plan to bring back Gretchen. With Gretchen lying there
with the IVs and monitors hooked up to her it did feel
insane.

We were nothing but children putting a band aid on a
splintered limb. Our plan might give us the advantage of
surprise. Beyond that, nothing went in our favor. We
played the game in a world where the Dream Snatcher
altered all the rules on a whim. The power I had wielded
to make the stars move in the sky seemed like the feeble
memory of a dying man.

But for a moment you did. You touched the stars. And the
power didn't come from hatred but from those closest to
you. I wished there was some method of contacting
Adrienne to let her know my scheme. There was no way
of telling when she would be able to make it into the
Underlay again. I wasn't going to wait.

"...I've only seen one other case like this in all my time
here," the doctor droned on. Jake elbowed me and I

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396

brought my attention around to the conversation between
the doctor and my parents. "A man was brought in for a
similar unexplained coma, no apparent trauma but we
couldn't wake him. We'll continue to monitor and see
what we can do. While there's life, there's hope." He
shook Dad's hand and stepped out into the hall. I slipped
out after him.

"Doctor."

"Hmm. Yes?" He already had his folder open, scanning it
for his next stop.

"You said there was one other person who had similar
symptoms. Who was he? What happened to him?"

He studied me. "I don't think that's your place to know.
Patient confidentiality you see."

"Can you at least tell me what happened to him?"

"I think it's better if I don't."

I wasn't used to begging, but now seemed a good a time
as any to try it. "Please, this is very important to me."

The doctor folded his arms. "I'm extremely busy, and
there's nothing to be gained by learning what happens to
other patients. I said they had similar symptoms, nothing
else. He was an old man. Your sister is young and
healthy."

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397

"Was?"

The doctor realized his choice of words and softened his
stance. "He passed away last night. A sad case. He was in
the coma before I ever arrived here and that was near
eight years ago. I have other patients to see, but we are
going to do everything we can for your sister."

He placed a heavy hand on the shoulder and then headed
down the hall. The patient could be nothing more than a
coincidence, but the constriction in my heart said
otherwise.

+++

"I'm exhausted." Jake yawned.

"Eight more hours to go. We have to wait until Dad
checks in on us in the afternoon," I said.

We stood in the garage, pulling on our barn boots to go do
the morning chores. The sleepless night had dragged on.
A few times I nodded off and it seemed almost
immediately I was transported to the Underlay, everything
coming into sharp focus until Jake nudged me to make
sure I was awake. Each time it became harder to fight it.
The darkness and corruption in the Underlay sang sweetly
to me, trying to draw us in and extinguish the last spark of
life that continued to defy it.

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398

It was a relief to be actively doing something, even
though each limb felt laden with invisible weights. We
trudged out to the truck and filled up the five-gallon
buckets with water. The frozen pipes probably wouldn't
thaw until March, if we were lucky and got a warm spell.
Jake sloshed water out of a bucket and drenched his leg.

"Great, now I'm tired and freezing." He threw the bucket
onto the back of the truck half full. "Let's get this over
with."

I drove the truck out to the barn, considered by Dad a
suitable and safe distance to learn the basics of vehicle
operation. Clouds covered the sky and a light snowfall
brushed against the windshield as we pulled into the
parking space near the barn. Dad was already out there,
throwing scoops of grain feed to the sows that gave birth
over Christmas break.

Mom had stayed in the hospital overnight—I doubted we
would see her during the day. Emily would be occupied
with school work or reading. If we asked her to leave us
alone, she would comply. Today was the day. Not perfect,
but the last opportunity for us to try and stop the Dream
Snatcher.

Dad finished feeding the farm animals, gave us a few
brief instructions and departed for the hospital. We spent
the rest of the day drinking caffeinated tea and wandering
around the house to keep from sleeping. Dad returned

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399

home around two in the afternoon, ensured we were fine
and then left again.

Jake yawned. "Thank God. Dream Snatcher or no Dream
Snatcher, I could sleep for the next 12 hours or so."

We finished afternoon chores, trudged back to the house
and kicked off our boots before heading down into the
basement. We didn't bother turning on the lights. The
basement had served as the jumping point for the Dream
Snatcher, using the dark and damp to his favor when I
was young. Now it was just the basement. It was what lay
beyond the veil of sleep that made it terrifying.

In the bedroom I grabbed a bottle of melatonin off the
dresser. Dad had stopped at Jorgensen's Market before
returning home from the hospital the other day and I was
able to buy it without being questioned. I dumped three
pills in my palm and gave three to Jacob.

"How much is this?" he said.

"Three times the recommended dose." I smiled weakly.
"Don't worry. It's non-habit forming."

He didn't laugh. He popped the tablets in his mouth and
took a drink of water from a cup he kept by the bunk. He
handed it to me and wiped his mouth.

"You know how I said that Meyer spewed gibberish?" he
said, sagging against the bunk bed.

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400

"Yes."

"It wasn't entirely true. He spoke the words from a poem.
I knew I'd heard them before. Something Mom read to
me—a poem called Ozymandias. But he changed
something. In the poem it speaks of sands, but in the
dream Dr. Meyer said mesh."

"What do you think it means?" I said.

"I have no idea," he grunted. "See you on the other side."
He lay down on the bed without waiting for a response.

"Yeah," I said, staring at the three tablets.

These couldn't stop the Dream Snatcher. I knew it. Jacob
knew it. But it didn't matter if we didn't try. Because we
didn't roll over and die. The engine that powered us was
much stronger than our body and our mind. Maybe strong
enough to get Gretchen back. Maybe if the Dream
Snatcher accessed the Black Satellite it wouldn't matter
anyway. Gretchen might become the least of our
concerns.

I swallowed the melatonin and climbed up on the top
bunk. I closed my eyes and almost immediately felt a
sharp sting on my neck. I tried to slap at the location, but
my limb didn't respond. It twitched slightly and lay still.
A shadow loomed over me and terror clamped down on
my heart.

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401

"Pleasant dreams," a voice whispered. I saw the glint of a
needle, sparkling like a diamond before the world went
dark.

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402

Chapter 10
The Black Satellite

I picked myself up off the cold cement floor. The right
side of my body felt numb and a wet spot on the floor
indicated where I'd been drooling. I wiped the saliva off
my face and staggered forward, my right leg all pins and
needles. I had no clear idea where I was going, but I knew
I must go somewhere and I must find something.

Jacob. Where was he?

I got to the foot of the basement stairs and lingered.
Upstairs or down stairs or in my lady's chamber? The
nursery rhyme chimed in my head while I remained
racked with indecision. The distance between me and the
basement bedroom seemed an impassable expanse. Each
step requires deliberate consideration. The sluggish
world around continued to draw me down until I sank to
my knees in exhaustion.

The Dream Snatcher did this. He's making sure he has
time to find you. With a supreme concentration of will I
rallied my voice and yelled with all my might.

"Jacob!" To my ears it came out as a death rattle. Even if
he was in the bedroom there was no possible way for him
to hear that.

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403

What if the Dream Snatcher did the same thing to Jacob
that he did to you? Then we were finished. Jacob was the
one who could tell me how to open the Stedgate. Without
him I was a blind man feeling around a cluttered room.
Maybe, just maybe, Adrienne made it? No. She wasn't
required to open this Stedgate. Anson only need Jacob
and me. Everyone else was blotted out.

Gretchen?

Gretchen. She was in a coma. In the Waking World. Not
the Underlay. The thought trailed by like a marquee
mocking my lethargic state. But she's in the hospital. You
could shift there. Not without Jacob. I made up my mind
and guided my body back towards the basement bedroom,
piles of laundry appearing as mountains I had to navigate
around.

I found him in the bedroom. He lay with his face on the
cement floor and his legs on the bottom bunk. He winked
open one eye as I entered.

"Hey," he said. With his face pressed into the floor it was
one of the few words he could express without slurring.

"Hey." I bent down to pick him up and instead lost my
balance and toppled over and landed near him, our faces
about a foot from each other. He tilted his head to look at
me with his one open eye.

"We've been drugged," he managed to say.

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404

"Yeah, we've got to get Gretchen. Shifting." With my face
pressed against the floor it sounded like a vulgar term for
defecating but he understood. He nodded and threw one
arm towards me that landed on my shoulder.

"Go," he said.

I concentrated, turning Adrienne's guidance that flowed so
beautifully into a step-by-step guide so I could maintain
the shift without faltering.

Maintain contact with those who are shifting with you.
Check. Had that one down, at least.

Clarify in your mind's eye the place you want to be. It
must be somewhere you've been before in either the
Underlay or the Waking World. Close enough. I kept
Gretchen's pale face and enormous hospital bed in my
thoughts.

Don't get distracted. Distractions cause chaos which in
turns brings in the nonsensical elements of our dreams.
Too late to worry about that.

Tear down the surroundings that cage you. It should be a
seamless flow. Let them be replaced with your
destination, piece by piece. The basement wall in front of
me was replaced by whitewashed cinder blocks. The
cement floor under our bodies turned into glossy tile. The
bunk bed's frame twisted in on itself, forming the hospital
bed covered in a white sheet. Everything may have

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405

completed without a hitch until I caught sight of
Gretchen's bed. It was empty.

Where was she?

The shift faltered. The half-constructed wall facing the
side yard stopped rising and loose earth fell into the
basement room, shattering the remnants of my
concentration.

Jake lifted his head and looked at the white cinder bricks
and the open hole above them.

"Well, at least we don't have to go through the front
door." He laid his head back down.

The stairs into the basement creaked as someone came
down the steps. The Dream Snatcher knew we were here
and we couldn't run. I struggled to my feet and grabbed
Jacob, who made a half-hearted effort before falling back
on the ground. He shook his head.

"Go before he gets here."

"No." I straddled him, reached down and locked my arms
under his chest. I hoisted him up and walked backwards,
dragging him towards the wrecked basement wall. The
gap left from the failed shift was large enough for us to fit
through.

"Are you guys down here?" A frightened and familiar
voice called out to us.

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406

"Gretchen!" I said, hardly daring to believe. "We're in the
bedroom."

Another flurry of footsteps followed and Gretchen
brushed by the sheet that served as our makeshift
bedroom door. Her garb consisted of jeans and a sweater
and her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"How'd you get here?" I said. I placed Jake's back against
the wall and slumped down next to him.

"I was already here. In my bed. It's freezing and dark up
there so I didn't stay long."

"Thank God. We were trying to come and get you. I
thought you'd be at the hospital. The Dream Snatcher did
something to us, something that affects us in the
Underlay. He's using it to buy time so he can track us
down. At least he didn't do it to you since you are..." I
broke off, wondering if telling her was a good idea.

"What? And why would I be at the hospital?" Gretchen's
eyes narrowed.

"You fell down the stairs the other morning," Jacob said
flatly. "You are in a coma. We stayed awake for over a
day and then took sleep aids to come and rescue you and
find a way to access the Black Satellite and stop the
Dream Snatcher. That about sums it up."

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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407

He rolled his head towards me. "I don't think we really
have the time to break this gently."

"It was a consideration," I said. I nodded at Gretchen.
"Since you can still put one foot in front of the other,
whatever happened to you in the Waking World doesn't
affect you here."

Gretchen folded her arms. "But... I remember waking up,
I remember using the bathroom and then..."

I extended my hand and Gretchen took it automatically,
helping me to my feet. "Trust us, you fell down the stairs.
Mom hasn't left the hospital and Dad is quieter than
usual," I said. "So here we are. Jacob can barely move at
all. But he knows what to do."

Jake thumped his head against the partial cinder block
wall. "We go through the gap. Get us across the road and
to the windmill."

"Why?" Gretchen asked as she hoisted Jake up. I slithered
through the gap into the side yard.

"I'll explain why when we get there," Jake said.
"Anything I say beyond that and the Dream Snatcher may
know. Seems our brother is a walking surveillance
system."

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

408

I pulled Jake through when Gretchen boosted him into the
gap. Gretchen emerged without assistance, appearing spry
and strong compared to us.

My eyes, accustomed to the darkness of the basement
room, thought that the faint light outside meant it was
merely a short time before dawn. Then I remember that
there would be no dawn. Only a cluster of stars provided
any light, the sun having been smashed out of the sky by
the Dream Snatcher. Gretchen shivered in the chilly air
and looked up at the sky.

"I'm going to need some help," Jacob said, lying stomach
down in the snow.

"Sorry." She reached down and helped him up. Between
the two of us, we managed to support Jacob. The cold air
and snow crunching underfoot sharpened the world
around me as the drug administered by the Dream
Snatcher wore off.

Gretchen maneuvered us through the leafless bushes that
grew thick near the road and stopped out of habit to look
both ways. To the north, on the same stretch of road that
Gretchen and I had driven down to find the Operations
building, I spotted a dark blotch and then heard an engine
rev as some vehicle roared towards us without its
headlights on.

"Ignore it!" I shouted. "Get us across the road!"

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409

The thoughts that followed were not so confident. He's
already found you. You are finished.

We hobbled forward, skirting the icy patches on the
pavement, and clambered up the hill. Jacob slipped during
the ascent and we lost our hold on him. He flailed with his
arms, grasping a dead bush that immediately gave way.
He tumbled further towards the road. I caught hold of an
evergreen shrub and stretched my hand towards him. We
locked fingers and I tried to pull him up as the car, a
suburban, reached the foot of the hill.

The suburban roared towards us, closing the distance
between us to a few meters. I saw Gretchen poised above
us, her face appearing as frozen silver in the starlight. The
air around us turned unquestionably colder, sapping away
the heat in my limbs and making me gasp for breath. My
eyes watered in the chilly onslaught, causing the
approaching car and patches of ice on the road to blur
together.

Instead of slowing, the suburban accelerated up the steep
grade, hit the ice and lost control. It careened away from
us, smashing into the lone telephone pole that was planted
on the opposite side of the road. The telephone pole
snapped under the impact and crashed into the pavement
road, the electrical lines crackling and writhing on the
ground. Sparks from the exposed wires bounced across
the road and they glowed and faded in the suburban's

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410

undercarriage. The terrible cold receded and Gretchen
stepped down to help us the rest of the way up the slope.

"What did you do?" I asked Gretchen. I knew the
Underlay had been manipulated, not by me, nor the
Dream Snatcher.

"They were going to run you over," Gretchen said. She
seemed perplexed. "I thought of stopping them... and it
happened."

"Good for you," Jacob panted. "Now get me up this hill,
my legs aren't working very well."

"Throw an arm over my shoulder," I said. "Gretchen, help
me out here!" Gretchen broke out of her trance and
assisted me.

At the peak of the slope I looked back at the suburban.
One door opened. I didn't pause long enough to see who
emerged. The windmill loomed in front of us, the broken
tail fin sticking out like a snout, its skeletal structure
blacker than the sky behind it.

When we reached the windmill, Jacob withdrew from our
support and grabbed the nearest of the four base legs.

"Give me a minute," he said. "It's here somewhere."

He fumbled around, feeling up and down the base leg.

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411

"Not that one." He moved to the second leg and then the
third leg. His tense face relaxed and he let out a deep
breath. "It's here."

He beckoned me. "Come here. This is your part. The
signal runs through the cabling." He yanked hard and
showed me a cable encased in rubber that lay hidden
against the base leg of the wind mill. "You have to tap
into the wiring. When you get through the protective layer
and hit the transmission line things are going to go
haywire initially. Chaos. Search through the stream until
you find an image of a cathedral. Meyer built it for you.
It's a hidden monument, a secret Meyer kept from the
Dream Snatcher. Whatever Meyer put in there is how we
get to the Black Satellite."

I took the cable from him. "And what about you two
while I'm off in la-la land?"

"Oh, don't get it twisted," Jake smiled. "We're coming
with you. You are just the only one who can find it. It's
like a shift, but instead of going one place that you
envision you have to pick where you want to go from a
flowing river of images. No pressure."

"They've made it up the hill," Gretchen warned.

"Yeah, time to go," Jake said. He placed a hand on my
shoulder and Gretchen followed suit. The rubber surface
of the cable felt damp in my hand. I dug the tips of my

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

412

fingers into it, tilting the rules gently in my favor till they
came to resemble razors rather than nails. They cut
through the protective sheath and bit into the wire and the
signal ran through it.

A surge of light stunned me and all my vision turned red,
then white. The figures closing in on us turned to pinprick
shadows that disappeared in the blinding, all-consuming
light.

+++

I panicked, certain I had already lost control and I spun
through some fragmented part of my Underlay that had no
form or rules. My eyes shifted when I moved them, but all
I saw was white. I couldn't even tell if I had a grip on the
wire or if Gretchen and Jacob had been shaken off me and
tossed into some chasm within my mind. Only white,
everywhere I looked.

Keep calm. I felt Adrienne's presence, so strong I wanted
to cry.

I'm sorry I failed you! I tried to tell her, but I had no
mouth to utter a word, only thoughts. I'm sorry I didn't
trust you.

You didn't fail. And you trusted enough to follow me this
far. Now, find that one speck outside the white, the one
atom of your mind that was meant to tap into this source.
Adrienne's call sent the singular moment of peace I

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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413

needed. My eyes rolled around, but it made no difference.
They might have been rolled into the back of my head for
all I knew and it wouldn't have made a difference.

Then stop looking.

Thoughts. The only thing I possessed besides my sight. I
went back as far as memory could reach, concentrating on
childhood memories of Mom cooking at the stove, of
Jacob crawling on the floor, of Gretchen trotting out the
door to kindergarten. Hazy, half-formed photographs,
they flitted by like sparks from a fire swallowed by light
instead of dark. I tried to keep something tangible,
something imprinted from a young age. Of course! There
it was. The dark speck, the impossibly small door into the
heart of terror—the basement where the torment had
begun. The white dissipated in its presence and I let the
darkness take over.

I need it long enough to get my bearings.

But I couldn't even hold onto that. The basement walls
cracked and shattered, fracture lines ran across the cement
form, standing out like jagged teeth.

Teeth! The eyeless hounds that tried to hunt down Jacob
and me when we accessed D.R.E.A.D.

The hounds charged through the basement walls, chunks
of cement flying through the air, the opening and closing
of their teeth sounding like Dad's whetstone when he

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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414

sharpened a knife to butcher chickens. They swung their
heads round, this way and that, blind murderous
machines. One charged right through the space where I
thought my body to be and I shuddered, but I felt nothing.
The disintegrating walls collapsed into dust and the
ceiling above me gave way to a million tiny globes of
light.

The stars—the only guides left in my world.

They whirled and blended together, a great kaleidoscope
suspended in the heavens until each sallow spark joined
with the others to form the next image. The
Necromancer's tower rose up, where he ruled in solace
over a dead world and kept the secrets of death and
dreams. The owl on his shoulder must have seen me for it
flew directly at me, its yellow eyes growing larger and
larger until I fell into the black pupils and all that
remained was darkness.

I fumbled forward, the darkness absolute, the only sound
that of breathing in my ear. The Dream Snatcher? Had he
caught up with me? No. Gretchen and Jacob are with you.
Have them help you. A flicker of light parted the darkness
and I clung to it and it became a flame, a candle burning
against eternal night. Lightning flashed and I saw the
outline of spires and gargoyles that decorated Meyer's
Final Monument. Stone steps and two solid oak doors
covered in carvings and icons emerged from the darkness.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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415

I reached out with arms I didn't have and pulled the image
closer, letting the chaotic tide carry me. But it must not
carry me past. This is the place. This is what Meyer left
for me.

I felt a water droplet hit my face and above the wooden
doors, high above the indistinct steeple, I saw the bruised
and angry storm clouds that loomed, restless and
unceasing. This was the monument of Meyer's sorrow.
My foot passed through the first stone step leading up to
the door. I concentrated and more water fell from the
heavens, soaking my hair and running into my eyes.
Another step passed by as I drifted closer and closer to the
door. If I didn't find a way to stop, we'd drift right through
the monument to the pandemonium that waited beyond.

Instead of focusing on my feet I concentrated on my
shoulders, where Gretchen and Jacob had placed their
hands. They must feel the rain. Each drop slowed me, as
if Meyer intended his tears to weigh down any visitors
with his own grief. The rain soaked through my shirt and
fingers gripped my shoulders as Jacob and Gretchen let
me know that it was working, even if they couldn't speak.
The third stepped passed us by and the candle, protected
by the overhang of the church, guided us in as the rain
trickled down my back. On the fourth step my right foot
pushed off and on the fifth my left foot touched down. I
trudged up the rest of the steps, the rain soaking through
my clothes.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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416

Jacob coughed and patted my back. "You did it."

Gretchen released my shoulder and looked up at the
cathedral, peering through the rain. "No one man could
build this." Her awe remained grounded in a world where
one man couldn't possibly have constructed this
sanctuary, even if he had multiple lifetimes to do it.

"Yet somehow he did," I said.

I grabbed the brass handle on one of the arched wooden
doors and pulled it open wide enough for us to slip
through. We entered a foyer. I flicked a light switch near
the door. It click-clacked but nothing turned on. Jacob
snagged the candle that rested under the overhang and
brought it into the church, holding it above his head. The
candle flame cast long shadows in all directions and
outlined broken kneelers and dusty lecterns. The clutter in
the foyer made me think that while the outside of the
monument was complete the details inside were left
unfinished.

Jake wandered away, searching up and down the length of
the room. Gretchen and I walked towards one of the
lecterns. On top of it was an open book.

"It's a Bible," Gretchen said, lifting up one side to look at
the cover.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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417

"Not much else here," Jake called out. "I did find some
more candles." He handed one to each of us and dipped
his candle flame to light the wicks.

With the candle in hand, I scanned the open page and
found a text circled with black ink. The quotation was
from the book of Leviticus, chapter nineteen, verse four.

“Turn ye not to idols, nor make to yourselves molten
gods. I am the Lord your God," I read.

"Maybe the Black Satellite is their molten god," Gretchen
said. "They've certainly sacrificed enough to reach it."

"I don't think they've sacrificed anything," Jake said. "So
far we seem to be doing most of that."

I cracked the door to the nave of the cathedral. The first
sound I heard was the pitter-patter of rain drops falling
from the pinnacle of the church's vaulted ceiling. Rows of
pews took off into the darkness, stalwart soldiers that
never abandoned their post. I walked up the center aisle,
flanked by Jacob and Gretchen. The faint light from the
candles barely let me see to the far edge of the pews that
continued row after row. I wondered if we'd walk on
forever, the falling of the rain drops, the smell of mildew
and wooden pews the only companions left to us.

The pews changed the further we walked. Mold covered
some. Others had kneelers and end frames that split due to

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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418

water damage. On the outskirts of the candlelight I saw
marble steps.

Several rows of pews in front of the marble steps were
smashed into splinters, as if someone in a fit of rage had
gone at them with an axe. In their place, forming a semi-
circle that arched away from the marble steps, were six
statues carved out of stone. They rose up with an
irreverent elegance, the stone folds of their clothing
hanging suggestively over slender, toned bodies. Three
were positioned on my left and three on my right. As I
made my way past the remaining pews and into their
perimeter, it seemed the statues moved, dancing on the
outskirts of my vision—white marble flesh flashing in the
air.

They waited, their arms uplifted to the sky, fingers
extended and interlocked with each other.

I felt a presence in the cathedral, a ghost that lingered and
permeated rock and wood, flesh and bone.

I walked to the furthest statue on the left and examined it.
Delicate, marble lashes fell over unseeing eyes, the
features perfected in every detail—a woman. She
appeared unconstrained by the cares of the world, the robe
loose on her frame, about to fall and expose the pale body
beneath. Jacob squatted down and read a plaque built into
the base of the statue.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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419

"Wife and Mother," he said. He looked at me. "Our
mystery woman."

The statue next to it was male, of similar height and facial
expression, but the eyes and forehead told a different
story, a tale of suffering and heartbreak. The plaque at the
base was blank.

The young man next to him held black storm clouds in his
features, a strong, proud jaw and lips that were meant to
command. Carved in uppercase bold letters on its plaque
were the words: "THE DIVINE ONE".

Across the aisle was another young female, her hair wild
and floating about her head like Medusa's snakes. Half her
face was covered by a slip of cloth and her eyes peered
over the brim, measuring me.

"The Conspiritor," Gretchen said as she knelt down to
view the plaque.

Next to her was a giant statue, reminding me of pictures
I'd seen of Olympian gods. His muscular body and
smooth features and far off look made him appear as a
general ready to lead his troops into battle. The plaque
stated, "The Betrayer."

That's because it is the General. My mind quipped.
General Kobetz.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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420

I studied the statue a moment longer and it did resemble
him, younger than when I initially met him, but there was
no mistaking it. The last statue removed any lingering
doubt about their identity and purpose from my mind. A
young girl's face gazed up at me, her curly locks
fashioned flawlessly, her face eager and eyes kind. I put a
hand out and felt the smooth, ashen cheek.

"Adrienne," I whispered. "The Betrayed."

Gretchen walked to my side and studied the statue. "It's
her isn't it? The girl you brought into my bedroom before
we saved Emily?"

"Yes," I waved my arm, indicating the other statues. "It's
all of them. The first is the woman from the beach. The
second is Meyer. The third is the Dream Snatcher. The
fourth... The fourth is Selene. The fifth is General Kobetz.
And this is Adrienne."

"What does it all mean?" Jacob said.

I shook my head. "I'm not certain. Meyer's last tribute to
some life he had before he put himself into a coma."

"So what do we do now?" Gretchen said. She wandered
towards the marble steps.

By the light of her candle I saw an altar fashioned from
stone residing at the top of the steps. I followed her and
examined the altar. Its top was flawless black marble.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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421

Behind the altar was a blank wall, reaching up until it met
the arches. Directly above the altar was the source of the
falling water. A hole was punched in the cathedral ceiling,
as if smashed inward by the hand of God. The rain fell
upon the altar and trickled down the sides and flowed
down the marble steps in a miniature cascade.

“Meyer!” I called out. No reply. “MEYER!”

Desperation echoed in my voice. No answer.

I ran my hand over the smooth surface of the altar.
Nothing.

A voice sounded out, startling us. Gretchen clutched my
shoulder. It came from all directions, echoing up and
down the church.

“I’m looking at the statues. My last monument. A
monument to my failures. You know each of them by
now, whether you think you do or not. Whether you met
them or not.”

He exhaled audibly.

“You want answers, but I have none that satisfy. Nothing
justifies what I did to you.”

The man, Meyer, spoke reasonably.

“I was the first dream snatcher and you were my last
victim. I heard the fragmented message of the Black

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422

Satellite and deciphering the entire message consumed
me. I burrowed through your mind like a worm, always
finding one more Stedgate, one more secret to unlock.
The Necromancer showed me two methods to access the
final message. One required me to create a snapshot of all
your Stedgates and unite them in purpose: The Corpus
Stedgate. I was almost ready to go through.”

His voice drifted into a murmur. “But Penelope, my wife,
died. They said it was a rare form of cancer, but I knew
better. Something utterly malignant and horrific had
corrupted those around me. Her death spared your life. I
woke from my own nightmare of unchecked ambition. I
saw what I had done to you. I saw what it had cost me."

He paused. "There are promises I made my children on
which I can no longer deliver. They, like me, are tainted.
They want the entire message of the Black Satellite. My
actions will only stall them for so long.”

He laughed. The laugh of a man who knows his
foolishness has cost him everything.

“So I am leaving. I’m leaving. My mind will cross the
expanse of Space to reach the Black Satellite. It will kill
me. My return is contingent upon you and the
Necromancer. I made it so only you could unlock the
Stedgates and only the Necromancer knows the
incantation that will release my tomb. My children will
wait for many years, thinking I'm bringing them their

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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423

prized possession. But they won't wait forever. Since you
are hearing this… since you are finally hearing this, I can
tell you the truth.”

Gretchen and Jacob edged closer to the altar as Dr. Meyer
continued his confession.

"I wanted to save you, but a terrifying discovery stayed
my hand. You are not unique. You are not special.
Everyone has the Stedgate to the Black Satellite, lurking
in the depths of their being. Anyone, with the correct
devices in place, can reach it. Maybe it has always been
there, a blemish on our souls, infecting all we say and
do.”

Meyer’s voice caught in his throat. He cleared it and
continued speaking.

“My children don’t need me. Or you. Or the people they
consider their allies. But they must continue to believe
you are the only one. They will pursue you relentlessly
for a chance to access the Black Satellite." The voice cut
off and I thought the message was over. "I'm leaving you
a bargaining chip. I did complete my experiment on you. I
made a slide film that can open the Black Satellite
through the Corpus Stedgate. It rests under the lip of the
altar, waiting for that ravenous soul to open the door to all
that is."

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

424

I swept my hand under the altar and found the slide film
in one corner. It pried out with slight resistance and I
lifted it up to examine it in the candlelight. A white border
ran the perimeter of a pitch black square.

“Become my placeholder. Someone to speak when all
words fail. Someone to act when the will falters. Someone
to shine a light in the vast darkness that threatens to
engulf us."

At Dr. Meyer’s last sentence the black surface of the altar
changed. I saw a picture, a picture of the windmill,
gloomily surveying the snow covered fields. Two men
stood near its base, anticipating our return. As the picture
grew larger and the features sharpened, I threw an arm
around Jacob's shoulder and grabbed Gretchen's hand
before Meyer's monument carried us back to the desolate
field.

+++

The Dream Snatcher stood in his vest and dress pants,
white shirt rolled up to his elbows, glossy shoes sunk into
the snow. The General kept his hands clasped behind his
back, chest bulging against his uniform.

"Is it time to open the final Stedgate?" The Dream
Snatcher asked. He made no demands or ultimatums,
assured that Gretchen remained his trump card.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

425

"I know who you are," I said. "Meyer showed me the
truth, Anson. And General Kobetz."

The Dream Snatcher’s lips twitched and he breathed out a
stream of vapor. "My father hid my birthright from me. It
was within reason to do what was required until it was
returned to me."

The General addressed me. "I'm certain you find it
effortless to sit in judgment with whatever nonsense
Meyer told you. You have black and white lines drawn
vividly to mark your path. I've served in three wars. Men
died under my command. Men I loved like brothers.
Some I held as they drew their last breath. They cried for
their mothers or lovers while their blood and entrails lay
on the ground. And somehow you remain convinced that
your life—your family, your dreams—are worth more
than theirs? They wait in the World Between. They are
counting on us. Your own stubbornness and Adrienne's
interference have brought the repercussions."

Gretchen's arms went taut and she took a step forward
with fists clenched at her side. Jacob put a hand on her
shoulder to calm her. "You tortured my brother for years
and put me in coma."

"If I lay waste to a thousand men, I would not feel a shred
of guilt," the General said. "Not if we reach the objective
of our mission. What's been done to your family is only a
drop in the bucket compared to the bloodshed I've

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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426

experienced. The power the Underlay bestows is worth it.
The Black Satellite is the key to controlling it. No matter
what technological wonders we create, there will always
be events beyond our control. Worldly wealth, freedom
from sickness and death—none of them matter because
we are still constrained to the physical realm. Not so here.
You've tasted the power yourself when you sent our
vehicle into the telephone pole."

Gretchen averted her eyes. "You were going to hurt
them," Gretchen muttered.

The Dream Snatcher laughed at her reaction. "I think you
misunderstand the General. We applaud you. We are the
same, each willing to take whatever action necessary to
achieve our goals. I harbor no ill will. And I offer you
your life if Mark does what is required."

"If I open the Stedgate..." I said.

The Dream Snatcher extended his arms towards the
ground and spread his fingers, shaking them slightly,
palms towards the sky. "Yes, if you open the Stedgate,
Gretchen will awake."

"And you'll never bother us again?"

He kept his head poised and still, eyes and expression
hidden behind the spectacles. "Never again."

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

427

"Fine." I turned my back towards them and walked away
from the windmill, towards the west, heading into the
pine forest. The Corpus Stedgate drew us in. Gretchen.
Jacob. The Dream Snatcher and General Kobetz. We
walked through the trees on our last procession. We
entered the clearing Meyer had made in my Underlay.
The mammoth stones of the Corpus Stedgate rose up,
overshadowing us and the smaller gates scattered around
the clearing.

I entered the utility shed and placed the slide film to the
Black Satellite into the empty slot.

"This is it," the Dream Snatcher said. He and the General
stood on the left side of the Corpus Stedgate, Jacob and
Gretchen on the right. "Open it for us."

I reached my hand to the lifeless stone. Without effort or
concentration I opened the chasm that lead to the first
monument.

It required no commitment or act of will. It lay beneath
the surface of my skin and in the blackest part of my
heart, an urge that refused to be denied. The Corpus
Stedgate dragged all other light into it and the Underlay
around us seemed to visibly age and wither as I watched
it. The pine trees in the wood beyond the clearing
shuddered in the grasp of a chill worse than winter. We all
stood in the frosty silence and stared into the Stedgate that
led to the Black Satellite. I expected the Dream Snatcher

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428

to plow forward, ready to throw himself headlong into the
pit.

"Here is where we part," the Dream Snatcher said.

He stepped forward and vanished into the Stedgate, the
darkness swallowing him whole.

"Don't follow us," the General called out. Then he, too,
was gone.

The wind and snow and the corrupted world around us
remained.

"What now?" Jacob said, his teeth chattering. "He said
Gretchen would wake again."

"Yes, he did," I remarked. But you know that isn't the
goal. It's the false pearl he offers you in exchange for
something far greater.

"Why not close the Stedgate now? Seal them in there
forever," Gretchen said.

"I don't think it is going to make a difference," I said.
"There's no saying they can't open it from their side,
especially after they retrieve the message from the Black
Satellite."

"So what do we do?" Jacob said.

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
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429

I kicked a puff of snow up with my foot and watched the
tiny flakes float into the Corpus Stedgate and vanish. I
struggled to say the words. "Whatever this is— whatever
all of this is, we have to try and stop them. You feel it
don't you?"

They both nodded, unable to give voice to something
beyond our experience. Lost souls taking their last steps
to the executioner's block. They know their only fate is to
go on. No screaming. No tantrums. Let the axe fall.

"We have to go through," I said.

Gretchen and Jacob said nothing.

"Follow me," I said. And I whispered it again. "Follow
me." Closing my mind off to the dread that threatened to
cripple me, I forced my legs forward. I hovered near the
black screen and then plunged into the Stedgate.

The trip through the Corpus Stedgate reminded me of the
archway, the way it made me nauseous before humming
into calm acceptance. Being flung across the vastness of
Space to a forbidden nightmare on the far side of the
galaxy must have that effect each time.

I felt pressure accumulating in my body and my joints
groaned with the strain, as if it meant to implode and
explode simultaneously. The unfortunate feeling quickly
became replaced with something more benign. My body
trailed through a vat of lard and the pig fat soaked into my

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

430

body and clung to my ribs happily padding my bones. The
evil that contained the Black Satellite was nothing
compared to the evil the Black Satellite contained.

The Stedgate dropped me out onto a gray metal platform
that stretched away to the horizon in all directions. At
least, it looked like metal. Under my fingers it felt pliable.
Soft. Connections meant to be reformed.

I saw without any light source. No star penetrated the
galactic dust cloud that hid the Black Satellite. It
remained, wrapped in its dark womb—the fetus that drew
its sustenance from the galaxy, letting its thumping
heartbeat be felt in every star system.

Gretchen and Jacob landed next to me, hands and knees
against the metal platform. Jacob made a gagging sound,
but he kept down the nausea and I helped him to his feet.
Gretchen seemed indifferent to the trillion mile movement
and stood up. She turned this way and that, gazing in each
direction.

"I don't see anyone," she said. "What is this stuff?"

"Some part of the Black Satellite," I said. "I thought it
was metal until I felt it."

She reached down and poked the gray material underfoot.
It responded to her touch and she dipped her fingers into
it and gray threads trailed over her hand. She pulled her

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.

431

hand back in surprise. The threads released her and she
wiped her hand on her jeans.

"Gretchen!" I started towards her.

Gretchen reached down again, this time hovering her
hand over the gray matter and dropping her pointer finger
into the mesh. A single thread rose up to greet her and
touched her finger. Gretchen watched in fascination as the
thread wound its way up her finger in a spiral. Other
threads rose up from the platform and snaked over her
shoes and up her ankles.

"I'm fine." She laughed. "I'm controlling it."

"Well, you are freaking me out," Jacob said, swaying
back and forth. "That trip was horrible and this weird
thread crap isn't helping. Besides," he pointed into the
distance. "I think that is what we should be concerned
about."

I saw a structure rising out of the gray landscape, the only
feature in any direction. It lay at the edge of the horizon,
its shape looking like a cardboard cutout against the dark
background.

We walked towards it, our footsteps noiseless against the
platform. The mesh contained slits that revealed the
darkness below us. I noticed that the darkness stayed
within its boundaries. With no light I shouldn't have been
able to see anything at all, but the darkness knew not to

Copyright © 2016 by M. A. T. Blackthorne
All rights reserved.