Free The softwire : Virus on Orbis 1 by PJ Haarsma Page A

had attempted to copy our sleepers from the seed-ship, but the pillow was too small and the bed was too narrow. That was probably Weegin’s doing: make it cheaper.
    “Don’t worry about them. He’ll need all the money he has to buy himself a personality,” Theodore whispered. “Look, I read about this on the ship.”
    Theodore tapped the control panel, and the lid withdrew into the wall. Another button released a headset. “This is the best part.” Theodore picked up the headset. “You can actually change your dreams with this.”
    “Change your dreams?” I said.
    “Yes. Look at these sensors here. You can adjust for color, sound, and even characters,” Theodore said. “If I remember correctly, it’s kind of crude. You can select single numbers, groups, or crowds.”
    I opened my sleeper and cradled the strange headset in my hands. Could it work? I decided to give it a try. I set mine for color: high; sound: soft; and characters: four.
    Like the ones on the seed-ship, these sleepers monitored the occupant’s vital signs and could seal themselves in case of oxygen loss, severe temperature change, or gravitational variances. I climbed inside, and the cover slid over me automatically.
    “Good night, JT,” Theodore said.
    “Night.”
    “Night, freak,” Switzer said.
    Dalton just snickered.
    I lay back and closed my eyes. Despite its small size, the new sleeper was far more comfortable than my old one. I pulled the sheet close to my neck, and the blue light from the sleeper lid began to fade. I wanted sleep to come so badly, but I was concerned about my sister and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Ketheria had spent many rough nights on the
Renaissance,
thrashing about in her pod. I always thought she was having nightmares, but whenever I asked her about them, she acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. On the seed-ship I had instructed Mother to always wake me at the first sign of trouble. It happened often, and I still remember her fits clearly.
    “Johnny, your sister needs you,” Mother informed me one time, waking me.
    I jumped out of my sleeper and raced to the enormous pod chamber where Ketheria, along with most of the younger children on the
Renaissance,
still slept. Many of the silicon nurture pods glowed blue, telling me they were occupied. Only one was rocking.
    Kneeling next to my sister’s nurture pod, I placed my hand on the chamber.
    “How long has she been like this?” I asked Mother.
    “She has been in this state for fourteen minutes and twelve seconds . . . thirteen seconds . . . fourteen seconds . . .”
    As on so many nights before, I had helplessly watched her through the silicon as she thrashed back and forth, kicking her little feet. Her long auburn hair was soaked. The sweat was dripping onto the nutrition pad.
    “Open it, Mother.”
    “Johnny, waking her is not advisable in this agitated state of —”
    “Open it!” I yelled.
    The blue light dimmed as the pod lid slid back and around. Ketheria’s teeth were chattering.
    “She’s freezing, Mother.” I lifted her in my arms and wrapped her more tightly in the thin blanket. “There’s something wrong with her nurture pod.”
    “The pod is in perfect working order. I noticed a slight supplement deficiency and instructed the nutrition pad to release small amounts of vitamins D, C, and B 6 throughout the night. Proper neural stimulation occurred as scheduled. Your sister is simply having a bad dream, and as you have instructed, I have alerted you.”
    “Shh,”
I whispered, ignoring Mother and slowly coaxing Ketheria to settle down. “
Shhhh,
Ketheria, everything is all right.”
    After a while, Ketheria’s thrashing stopped. Through it all, she never woke up. I placed her back down in the nurture pod and wiped some of the sweat from her face.
    “Please close the lid, Mother.”
    Now I stared at the lid of my new sleeper, still waiting for sleep to come. I looked across the room: Dalton and Switzer were