Dreamworlds, Chapter 7

She woke up naturally a few hours later. She remembered having a couple dreams after the one where she went to the base, but they had been normal dreams, where she didn't feel pain. It took a few moments for her head to clear, but it was scarcely a minute before she realized what she had done. That last dream was the one they had been looking for. They had waited for her to surrender, and then counted on the fact that when placed in familiar surroundings, she would seek out a friendly face. And she had done exactly as they'd expected. She had caved in, ignoring the fact that she didn't know how she'd gotten on that mountain in the first place. She'd been so tired of being alone, so tired of fighting, that she had led them right where they wanted to go.

Krystle could have screamed. What had she done? She had betrayed everything she believed in! She had surrendered, and given her enemy exactly what they wanted. She felt a knot in the pit of her stomach and her chest tightened in fear. "This is a problem to be dealt with," she tried to tell herself, but for the first time she didn't really believe it. This time, it was a catastrophe.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're awake," said the nurse, bustling into the room. "You slept for a long time."

"Yeah, thanks for waking me up," Krystle said bitterly. She didn't have the energy to fight anymore. The nurse busily checked the monitors by the bed and didn't respond to Krystle's sarcastic comment.

"Did you get everything you wanted?" Krystle asked dully after a moment of silence.

"Yes. There's a team out there right now. They'll bring all your friends in and get information from them, as well." She said it casually, as if she didn't realize that everything Krystle held dear was being destroyed.

"Why not just use me to get the rest of what you need?" she asked. "Why do you have to put the rest of us through this hell?"

"You know too much about the dream. You were able to twist it around and control things that nobody ever has before." She turned from her work and looked directly at Krystle. "You were supposed to confide in Jason, but you turned the conversation around and almost got information from him, instead." The nurse turned back to the monitors. "I've never seen anything like it." There was a note of admiration in her voice, but she continued with her tasks in a very businesslike manner.

That victory was small consolation to Krystle. After all, they'd beaten her in the end. She hadn't been able to remember; she hadn't thought clearly enough, and as a result, the revolution would die. Her friends and family would die. Freedom itself would die.

The nurse filled up the IV. Krystle glanced up at it as the tube was attached to the needle in her arm. "More drugs?" she asked.

"No," replied the nurse. "This one just has nutrients in it. The director wants you awake and aware when he talks to you."

"Joy," Krystle muttered. "When will this little interview happen?" she asked.

"It should be within the hour, I think," the nurse answered.

Krystle sighed. "Then what?" she asked.

The nurse just looked at her.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Lethal injection, right?"

"Krystle, you're a traitor. You couldn't have expected anything less." The nurse was tight-lipped and businesslike, and her eyes were cold.

"Will it be you who does it?" Krystle asked.

"Yes," she replied shortly.

Krystle just nodded. There didn't seem to be anything left to say. The nurse finished what she was doing and left the room, her high heels clicking sharply on the floor. Krystle didn't watch her go.

The warrior lay there in her bed, for once not struggling against her bonds. She kept imagining her friends, taken unaware and put into the same situations she had been in. Most would try to fight it, as she had. But none would overcome it. She could see no way to beat the dreamworlds. Even death was no escape, there. She saw her father in her mind's eye, struggling to understand what was happening, not understanding that the Coms controlled everything. Everything that he loved would die, and it was all her fault.

Krystle knew this line of thinking would never accomplish anything, but she didn't care. She let herself indulge in despair. What was the point of trying to do anything else? She had betrayed everything she loved, and she would die before the day was done. She would be only the first of many to die; her death would mean nothing.

The door opened and a tall man walked into her room. He closed it behind him deliberately and walked to the foot of her bed. For a moment he said nothing, and Krystle took the time to study his face. He had dark, short curly hair and a wide forehead. His eyes were a light hazel, set far apart. They bored into her, guaging her, evaluating her. His shoulders were wide and he walked with purpose and confidence. It was easy for Krystle to see why he was a director of the Com society. He emanated a powerful presence.

"Krystle Bordran," he said simply.

Krystle didn't answer.

He smiled. "I can understand why you're angry with me," he said. "But I do want to thank you."

"I'll bet."

"You've been invaluable to us. Not only did you help us keep our war going, but because of the information you provided us with, we are now able to crush any resistance."

"You're killing the very things that make life worth living," Krystle stated quietly.

"We are preserving life, and helping people to have a higher quality of living."

"But you take away people's choice. Under your rule, they no longer have the possibility of choosing what kind of life they want to live!"

"Most people don't even know the kind of life they should want. We simply educate them, and then make their lives possible."

"You can say whatever you want. You'll never convince me you're right."

He smiled again. "Defiant to the last. They told me you fight viciously for what you believe in."

Krystle didn't respond, reminded again that her fight had done no good.

The director looked at his watch. "I have to go," he said. "The crew that was sent to retrieve your friends will soon come back, and I intend to be there to greet them."

Krystle closed her eyes, determined not to let this man see her cry. She heard him turn and leave the room, again deliberately closing the door behind him. She waited until she was sure he was out of hearing, then she let out a heart-wrenching sob. Tears fell down her cheeks like rain, releasing the anguish that was tearing her apart.

It wasn't long after the director left that the nurse came back in. She walked to the counter and prepared a syringe full of a clear liquid. Krystle found it disturbing that the means for ending her life had been in the room she had inhabited for so long. The nurse walked over and added the contents of the syringe to the IV.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" the nurse asked quietly.

Krystle shook her head and stifled another sob. "How long?" she asked.

"I added a lethal dose of anesthesia to your normal IV. It'll take about an hour for it to hit your system and take effect."

"Will it hurt?"

"No," she replied. "You'll just fall asleep."

Krystle couldn't resist one last bitter comment at the woman. "So, you torture me for days on end, and then leave me to die without pain or glory or anything. You haven't even left me any kind of meaning to my life."

The nurse pursed her lips, then looked directly into Krystle's face. "You are a traitor, and you deserve everything you've gotten. Serving as your nurse for the past five weeks has been the greatest way I could fulfill my duty to my country. I'm honored that I was the one chosen to end your life." With that, she lifted her chin and quickly walked out of the room.

Krystle watched her go, anger boiling within her chest. Not at the woman, for she probably didn't know any better, but at the director, and at his father, and everybody who'd had a part in destroying their country. She hated them, hated the ignorant people who had allowed it to happen, hated herself for not being able to stop it, or to fix it, or to fight it.

She lay there watching the hands move on the clock and thinking about the life she had lived, all the fights she had fought, the things she had believed in, and the friends she had had. It didn't seem to amount to much, now. The minutes passed and she eventually stopped counting them. The end would come soon enough. She felt a deep despair for the friends she had betrayed and the causes she had failed to protect. She let her tears fall freely. She had accepted her own death years before, when she had begun to fight her war, but she had never dreamed she would feel so alone, so helpless, so hopeless. She began to feel the drugs coursing through her veins as they took effect. She didn't try to fight it. Her thoughts became hazy, giving her a blessed release from the guilt of betrayal. Looking at the clock, she realized that forty-three minutes had passed since the nurse had left the room. Somehow, that seemed important, but she couldn't hold on to it. She began to wiggle her fingers, became fascinated with the fact that they were so heavy. She could hardly lift them off the bed.

Krystle heard the door open a crack. She looked over at it dully.

"Krys!" came an excited voice.

She struggled to come back to her senses. She should know that voice. The door opened and a man walked in wearing a uniform of the Com army. He closed the door and walked quickly over to the bed.

"Krys, it's me..." his excitement was dimming, his face clouding over with worry.

Finally she recognized him. He looked different in the uniform. "Carson..." she mumbled, trying to smile up at him.

"I'm here to get you out," he said, pulling the IV out of her arm and the sensors off her skin.

"How?" Krystle found the wits to ask.

"I saw you get taken that night. I snuck away before they saw me." He smiled a small smile. "We couldn't come in and get you before this, but we knew they'd be coming for us sooner or later. We evacuated everybody from the base and posted guards. We had to wait until today before anything happened, but when the Coms finally came in to get us, we threw nerve gas in after them and closed the door. They never had a chance.

"But, now... you're here," Krystle queried weakly.

"We stole their uniforms. They think we're them, but our cover won't hold for very long." He glanced at her ashen face and began to ramble. "We need to move quickly, Krys. We've all been so worried about you. But we're here for you now, and you're getting out. We're all getting out and we're going underground. They won't find us again. They won't do this to you again. I promise." He was fighting to sound confident, but she could hear a pleading note in his voice.

Her consiousness began to fade. She fought against it, but her eyes closed and her breathing became deep and heavy.

"No, no, no!" Carson said, patting her face. "Don't you fade on me." His voice became desperate. Krystle could hear it dimly, fighting with the drugs for her mind. "You've always fought, Krystle. Don't you dare give up now! You've got to wake up!"

She wanted to. She wanted to open her eyes and tell him everything, ask him how he was there, tell him to be careful... The thought struck her that the ideals she had fought for would not die with her. Her brother lived; that meant others of the revolution were still alive, too. They would go on. They would fight for the cause that had taken her life. She managed a small smile before her muscles relaxed and she lost all control over her body. The last thing she heard before her life slipped away was Carson's anguished voice from far away. "I fight for you, Krystle. We all fight for you."

The End