Chapter 4

Eric woke with a gasp. Another dream of his past. This one was about an assassination he had been instrumental in accomplishing. This was the fifth such dream, counting the dream he'd had while waking from 'cold sleep'. As before, there was some discrepancy with the dream. He had a sudden suspicion.

"Battle Comp. Process PD. Execute," he sub vocalized.

"Acknowledged," he heard from his implant which allowed him to, 'hear', his built in computer, as well as receive signals from his ship's computer.

"PD is now fully implemented. Eighty percent capacity is now being utilized by this unit. Warning. 'Process PD' causes an extreme power drain. Cyborg capabilities are degraded significantly.

He contacted his ship through the SNARK assigned to him.

"CC? I have a problem," Eric signaled.

"Affirmative. I have received signal activation of Psionic Defense. I am activating on board defenses. Activation complete. Query. What caused you to activate PD?" asked CCS-14.

"I have been having a series of dreams since I first woke in orbit. Every dream seems to be me, reliving a part or portion of my life. But when something technical in the dream occurs; the dream changes to a child's viewpoint, or to that of someone with only a vague understanding of the processes involved, instead of me.

"I understand and understood all of what happened to me. Example. When I first woke, I dreamed of being accepted into the cyborg program. Somehow, I heard the recruiter using the words 'cords and pulleys' for the muscular actuation and actualization processes.

"I had put that off as a strange dream. However, I have had enough subsequent dreams, to remember that there are people out in the universe who have paranormal abilities. After all, that's why command had these defenses built into us," Eric told his ship.

"Affirmative. I will have a defense unit constructed in the form of a pendant. I will send it to you via SNARK. Delivery time is 3.44 hours from now.

"Good. I also have been wanting to go up to that compound in the hills to the north, but I seem to either forget, or something happens to distract me. This is another reason why I think I have been externally influenced," Eric went on.

"Affirmative. Protocol 24-3-12/A is now in effect. The ground unit, Commander Eric Falstaff, is now forbidden physical access to ship. Access will be denied, until such time as it is proved to this unit's satisfaction, that the ground unit is not being controlled by an external force," CCS-14 stated.

"Roger that. My battle comp has already been instructed to report any attempted intrusions to you, as well as to me. Standard operating procedures," Eric replied with a confidence he didn't really feel.

With that, Eric concluded his conversation with his ship. He got out of bed, and dressed. It was very chilly in the room, but not as bad as it could be. His room had the inn's main chimney running through it, and that offered some warmth to counter the cold.

He also had a fireplace of his own in the room. While the flames had gone out, it still had coals that were putting out some heat. Eric stoked the fireplace with some kindling and wood, and soon a merry fire was blazing.

He looked out the window of his room. It was still dark, but the pre-dawn glow had begun. He decided he would not work today. While he felt sorry for those who would make the trip to the inn to see him, he was more worried about the possibility of his mind having been invaded.

He didn't feel any differently than before. But then, would he, if he were under the influence of others? Still, he had been able to activate his defenses, and warn his ship; so he was still his own man, or so he hoped.

As dawn began, he went out his door. He locked it with the huge iron key he had been given, and went downstairs. His room was actually the safest place in the city. He had placed a 'guardian, 3rd class', inside. It would take care of any people not authorized to be there. While it wouldn't actually kill anyone, it would render them unconscious, and keep them that way until his return.

Eric hated the defensive shield, which was used against possible or actual mental probes from paranormal people. It made his head buzz, but he would eventually get used to it. Until he did get used to it, though, he would just grit his teeth.

He was sitting in the main room of the inn. Breakfast was long over now, and he was waiting for his pendant to arrive. His battle computer reported an attempt to penetrate the shield. Defense was successful.

He sighed. He had hoped to have been wrong, but apparently he was not. His battle computer simultaneously reported the attack immediately to him, and to his ship in orbit above. He heard the acknowledgment from the ship.

Well, that was that. With this confirmation, his ship would now go into a more cautious mode. It would look at everything Eric did or requested, with suspicion. As of now, it would almost be impossible to gain the total trust of his ship. Eric was effectively marooned on this planet, until such time as he could prove his fitness to resume command of CCS-14.

The Protocol (24-3-12/A) had just acquired an additional suffix (R), which told his ship to limit contact with him even further. Previously, he was just forbidden physical access to his ship. Now he would have to work even harder, just to speak and interact with it.

For the most part, all Coalition CCS ships had built in protection from paranormal access. But that type of power was very rare, and not well known or documented. The defenses had been proved to work, but had to have been activated previous to the possible contamination.

There was almost a 'Catch 22', at this point. While he had done the correct thing, and informed his ship of possible contamination; it also provided his own downfall, so to speak.

An hour later he was still sitting in the main room of the inn, close to the fireplace, when the door opened. Four people entered. Two guards wearing livery with which he was unfamiliar.

He already knew the city watch uniforms, the king's guards uniforms, and several of the local lords' uniformed guards. These were totally unfamiliar to him.

A man and woman saw him, and approached his table. The guards trailed along behind them. Eric rose as they came to his table.

"May I help you?" Eric asked politely.

"I am Nadalia, and this is Arbenden. We wish to discuss certain things with you," the woman told Eric.

"Ah. Well, I am sorry, but I am not healing today. Perhaps one of the other healers?" Eric responded.