Chapter 36
It was that dream again. The whispering voice in Tom’s ear, so close, so distant, drifting like a wraith in and out of both audibility and perception, a phantom of vanishing smoke, telling him what to do.
And the legs were present, standing greyly alongside, a comforting, tall presence in a shifting world. And in front, a glow, a cloud of hard neon colours with squares of black, forming a pattern, somehow looking wrong.
And the voice telling him to make it right, to make it perfect, and his finger pressing each black button, with a click so loud he could almost hear it, but the imperfections had been banished, consigned to oblivion as they moved and shifted and the voice which was not a voice spoke again in his ear, urging him to walk forward, walk forward quickly, and - abov
