Chapter 9: The Day After

After cuddling for a while, Andrea, Lucy, and I unstuck our bodies from each other. The girls went to Lucy's room and I snuck back upstairs to my apartment. My head throbbed, like a massive hangover after a night of drinking cheap tequila. Pitching forward into bed, I fell unconscious.

Dreams came to me; slowly coming into focus like the light of the sun becomes clearer to a diver ascending from the depths. In my dreams, I was climbing stone stairs. Drums boomed out the cadence as I marched out of a torch lit staircase. The crowd roared in anticipation as I stepped onto a broad, paved courtyard. My guards forced a corridor through the cheering throngs of people.

Details became clearer. The people were short and wiry, dark skinned with straight black hair. I continued across the open space toward a giant, stepped pyramid. Marching stiffly up the stairs the smell of incense grew stronger, almost overpowering me as I reached the top. There, standing behind a tremendous black altar, stood a man who was undeniably a high priest of some sanguine religion. The tall, feathered mask that hid his features was his only raiment. Streaks of drying blood ran down his thin chest and drew streaks along his skinny thighs. I hesitated at the sight of the long black dagger in the priest's hand but was shoved toward the altar from behind. Unable to fight back, I was dragged on to the altar, strong hands pinning my wrists and ankles to the smooth, warm surface.

I woke, a damp towel on my head. Struggling to sit up, I saw Andrea came into the room.

"Are you OK? You don't look so good." There was a note of concern in her voice.

She gave me something cool to drink and sat on the edge of the bed beside me. She explained, somewhat embarrassed, how she had come upstairs after lunch hoping for a little "reprise" of the previous evening's fun. She had found my door open and me passed out on the bed. When she found she couldn't wake me, she stayed and played nurse. It was now Saturday evening, I had slept a whole day. We had a quiet evening together, Andrea ordering pizza while I nursed the fading echoes of his monster headache.

On Sunday, my head felt more normal. I sat down with a pot of coffee and the stack of Brantwell's private diaries. There had to be some connection between "the necklace" and my vision. Much more intense than a nightmare, I could still remember the smell of the blood and incense as I stood in the breeze atop the pyramid. I still didn't have any idea how my dream fit into the situation, but there was bound to be a clue somewhere in the diaries.

The closest I came to an answer was a circuit diagram of a later generation MC Device with a "signal amplifier" in addition to the other circuitry. Apparently the brain couldn't put out enough power on its own to broadcast control signals to one person for a long time or more than one for shorter periods, I reasoned. To give the controller this expanded capability, the researchers had developed a feedback circuit to amplify the controller's brain power. In other words, the controller used power derived from the returning brain waves of his subjects. This way he had to supply less energy and could, therefore, broadcast for longer periods of time or to more subjects. Since it was late, I put the diaries away and decided to spend the next week modifying my "necklace" before trying it out.