Regan's Reach 4: Avarice
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Authors: Mark G Brewer
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera
Avarice
Book four in the Regan's Reach Series
Copyright 2015
Mark G Brewer
Published by
Mark G Brewer
License Notes
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional or
used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is purely
coincidence and entirely unintended by the author.
Cover Image source NASA and STScl
Once again I'd like to thank those dear
friends and family who have encouraged me with my writing and continually
prompt me to keep going. To get any book finished, in fact any story or article,
one must write; there is no other way. The pressures of life, those that come
upon us unbidden and those we bring upon ourselves often conspire to distract
us from completing any passion or task. At such times those who hold up the
vision for us and unfailingly urge us on are worth their weight in gold. Thank
you.
The pair sat well apart on the couch, clearly
avoiding each other's eyes and Dianne Sergeant wondered, not for the first time,
how she had fallen into this unusual role, a journalist now counselor to the
otherworldly. As usual the room seemed dimmer than she liked, adding to the
feeling of being trapped by their presence and she nervously stole a glance
toward the windows where the cause of the gloom resided, the black shape of the
Pod pressed up close and hiding the glorious cityscape of Manhattan.
Oh to be
outside . . .
Returning her
attention to the avatar couple she mused on their appearance. That Ham as an AI
could choose to appear in avatar form was amazing but no longer a surprise to
her. However, that Regan could also appear in this form both chilled and amazed
her. She allowed herself one final thought before resuming her questions; it
came to her unbidden as the couple shifted nervously . . .
this just gets weirder
and weirder!
In an attempt to break the icy atmosphere
Dianne leaned forward to engage Regan in particular and smiled warmly.
"Before we go on, Regan - how . . ." and she gestured to Regan's avatar
with an amazed circular waving of her hands, ". . . how do you do
this?"
The avatar, a perfect rendition of a
younger Regan, looked down at herself and then back up with a broad smile,
"Oh it's just one of the tricks we're able to play Dianne, nothing
special, it's a projection from the Pod - but it is very good don't you think?"
"Oh absolutely." Dianne agreed,
"It's almost as if you were really here."
Ham and Regan exchanged knowing looks; she
was, after all, 'really there' however not even that comment brought a smile as
it usually would.
Dianne decided to press on. "Ham, you
requested this session, perhaps it might be best if you kicked things off, I
know you're not just here to chat, what was on your mind?"
Regan spun to glare at him, "Yes Ham,
what
were
you thinking?" She looked back at Dianne in frustration.
"He told me we were going to meet a friend."
"Well, in a manner of speaking we
are," Ham said defensively, "Dianne is a friend - and would you have
come if I'd even mentioned counseling?"
"Not on your nelly!" She replied
angrily, and sat back crossing her arms with a clear show of defiance.
Dianne watched the exchange and felt the familiar
nervous flutter that was becoming all too frequent with Ham's visits.
Counseling
- dear God - how did I get into this?
"Ham . . . you were going to say
something?"
With a frustrated glance at Regan he turned
back to the frail journalist, older now yes, but still an attractive woman with
the looks as well as the gravitas for her role.
"Yes, thank you so much Dianne, and I
apologize for Regan's . . ."
"
Don't
you apologize for me!
I'm allowed to be frustrated; you did get me here under false pretenses after
all."
He seemed to collapse and turned back to
her with concern, "Yes Regan, because I knew you wouldn't come any other
way; I need this and I think you do too."
Regan didn't reply and he hesitated, just
staring at her for a moment as if daring her to differ before turning again to
the journalist/reluctant counselor.
"I'm anxious Dianne, all the time, not
overly so but it's there and it robs me of some of myself. I feel I'm weaker
for it and I want to sort it out." He turned slowly back to Regan,
"And
she's
the problem, she's gone all 'mistress of the galaxy' on
me, she's everywhere, all the time and if I can't trust her, I can't look after
her . . . and I can't bear it." He seemed to shrink with the revelation.
"Oh please!" Regan shifted her
form to regard him more directly, frustration radiating from her face and then she
returned eye contact to Dianne. "He manipulated things to install me as
his queen of the universe and now that I'm there he wants me to settle down and
have calculators with him, play happy families . . ." She again turned to
the beautiful man and took his hand with a suddenly tender attitude. "Ham,
you know I'm busy, and mostly we're together all the time."
He ignored her and chose instead to speak
to directly to Dianne. "You remember we talked once about trust, and I said
that I trust Regan completely - well, that's the problem you see."
Regan interrupted before he could explain."Ham,
why are you bringing this up? We've dealt with that, okay? Yes, we both know I
took off on my own and perhaps it was selfish but you keep bringing it up with
me and won't let it go. It's not fair, after all you went off too with the
saucer - and you've been gone for years now roaming around somewhere in the
galaxy. I'm not complaining about that."
Dianne seemed to wobble under the onslaught
of the to and fro discussion but gathered herself quickly and consulted her
notes; they were just a few scattered words but they were enough.
"Ham, just before when you were
explaining how you felt, you mentioned that you can't look after her - what did
you mean by that?"
"That's it!" He exclaimed.
"Regan takes herself everywhere now, all the time, and any one of her
could choose to go somewhere else and not tell me, and . . . and I can't trust
her . . . not to split off copies you see, and then go somewhere without me,
and I won't be there to look after her, and now I'm running around checking and
double checking to make sure nothing's happening and I'm trying to second guess
whether she's foolishly done something dangerous," he turned to Regan,
"and
you don't seem to care a damn!"
"Because I know I'm all right Ham, if
I need you I'll call, you know that."
"No I
don't
know that! How can
I be sure? And what if you can't call eh, eh, what about that?" He turned
back to Dianne. "I feel like a circus performer spinning plates on sticks
and the more sticks there are, the more running around there is to make sure all
the plates keep spinning so that nothing falls to the ground and I have this
worry that there are plates I don't even know about with no one looking after
the spinning . . . and . . .
and Regan keeps making more plates!!!"
He
yelled it in despair.
"No - I - don't Ham; you know about all
of the plates," Regan rolled her eyes at the analogy. "There's only
the 'me' here, and occasionally a 'me' in Gliese, and in Orion, that's it; most
of the time now I don't split off copies at all!"
He turned to her slowly, unmoved and still clearly
distraught. "Don't you see, I just don't know anymore, I worry that there's
another you out there . . ." His voice trailed off in his distress.
Dianne cocked her head, "Ham, I know
this is a silly question, but I assume you're familiar with the term, co-dependent?"
"Of course," he replied but his
head still seemed to droop. Regan's eyes shifted from the sad image back to
Dianne.
The older woman hesitated and then
continued. "Well, it occurs to me that, perhaps not surprisingly given
your unusual . . . upbringing, many of things you describe to me, about how you
feel, the things you do for Regan, err, has it ever occurred to you that they sound
very much like the outworking of co-dependency?"
Ham still looked sullen and didn't respond but
the comment did seem to capture Regan's interest. "In what way?" She
asked.
"Well, in dysfunctional families often
the family members don't acknowledge problems that exist because it's easier
not to and as a result they don't talk about them or confront them. The result
is that those in the family - or a partner perhaps," she paused, scanning
the couple pointedly and raising her eyebrows, "well, they tend to repress
their emotions and can disregard their own needs. Often the co-dependent will focus
all their attentions and energy on the person they perceive as sick or needy
and typically they place the other person's health and wellbeing before their
own. The problem is when they do that they can easily lose contact with their
own needs and desires, even the sense of who they are."
"Are you saying Ham and I are dysfunctional?"
Regan cut across the explanation.
"No, no, but let me ask you this, are
there perhaps problems the two of you haven't talked about and should have,
things that perhaps you should have confronted and discussed, maybe long
ago?"
Regan and Ham both turned at the same time to
face each other squarely, apparently sharing some common thought and she slowly
reached out a hand to take his, squeezing it affectionately. Dianne watched the
interaction with interest, knowing she had hit on something and then she continued.
"Perhaps Regan, there are things Ham
has wanted you to discuss but you've held him out. It would be understandable -
a classic reaction to the strong, perhaps unwanted attentions of a co-dependent
is sometimes passive aggression, perhaps even stubborn rebellion. Not that I'm
saying you are like that, Regan, however maybe you could - let's say, give a
bit more, talk about these things and open up. And Ham, you're so concerned
about making sure everything is all right - maybe the odd plate falling to the
ground isn't the end of the world? Let a few fall if they will and increase
your error rate, would that be so bad? You learn things from mistakes too you
know; it's all scientific information."
. . . But she could tell they were hardly
listening now; something had occurred to them and their minds were somewhere
else. And then suddenly they both stood together as if by an unspoken prompt or
mutual agreement; she often wondered how this happened.
Ham turned gratefully to her. "Dianne,
once again thank you so much for your time, you have been a great help. In fact
I feel quite . . . '
up
'." He paused to make sure the code word was
recognized before continuing his goodbye, "Until next time, take care."
and he smiled.
As the two avatars began to dissolve before
her she could swear she heard the faintest words from Regan,
"I'm so sorry, my love."
. . . And from Ham
"Oh don't worry; it's really all my
faul . . ."
And they were gone.
* * * * *
