Space Demons by Gillian Rubinstein

Author:Gillian Rubinstein
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ligature Pty Limited
Published: 2018-10-24T03:11:03+00:00

13

The next day Andrew and Mario played Space Demons again, and the next day, and the day after that. On the third night Andrew had a nightmare. He dreamed he was opening his eyes. It was pitch dark, as dark as inside the tunnels. He tried to reach out to turn on the bedside light, but he seemed to have lost the use of his arms. He could not move at all. The darkness was so complete that it seemed as if he himself was a part of it. He could feel his heart pounding, with a curious rhythmic thud thud thud that was not quite its own. The pulsing went through him, through the darkness that was also him, through the whole room, with a sort of silent echoing that chilled his blood and made his skin crawl. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came. The darkness stretched away forever, into eternity. The whole universe was blacked out. There was nothing out there at all, nothing except a faintly mocking something. He could not see or touch or hear it, but he could sense it inside him and around him. He knew that now it owned and possessed him, while his own self shrivelled pathetically and died. Then the something spoke to him. ‘Bad luck!’ it said. It was the voice of the program, but it had lost its suggestion of flattery, now it only mocked. ‘You did quite well. Yes, really quite well. I should have told you before. But no one has ever mastered my children. Now you must become one of them.’

‘Andrew! Get up! You’re going to be terribly late for school!’

Andrew woke up with a cry of fright. He sat bolt upright in bed and stared at his mother with blank, uncomprehending eyes. The pulsing through the room shrank and retracted, to become again the beating of his heart. He could move again, but barely. He felt as if he had not slept at all. His limbs were heavy and aching.

Marjorie turned from the window, where she had been letting up the blinds, and looked at him with concern. ‘Are you feeling all right? You’re not ill, are you?’

Panic made him angry. He found himself shouting at her. ‘Mum, will you stop treating me like a baby? Of course I’m all right. Get out and let me get dressed.’

He was never normally rude. He had always had beautiful manners. Marjorie went quite white. ‘There’s no need to talk to me like that. You can at least be polite.’

‘Sorry,’ Andrew mumbled. ‘I had a really bad nightmare.’

His mother came and sat down on his bed next to him and put her arm around him. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I know things are a bit tough at the moment. It’s perfectly normal to feel anger and hostility towards me. Don’t worry about it. I understand.’

‘What on earth is she talking about?’ Andrew thought. ‘Does she know about the game? What’s she on about?’

‘I’ve been a bit worried about you, Andrew,’ she went on.

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