Steven Harper - Dreamer

Ben continued to work. Silence stretched across the bridge.

“Ara’s hiding something,” Kendi said, suddenly desperate to fill the quiet.

Ben looked up, a puzzled expression in his blue eyes. “Sorry?”

“Ara’s hiding something,” Kendi repeated. “I think it’s to do with the kid. I asked her, but she denied it. She lied.”

“She doesn’t lie,” Ben said stoutly. “At least, she never has to me.”

“Not to me, either. At least, not until now. It makes me angry, Ben. I’m second in command, but I don’t know all the details.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

Kendi leaned toward him. “Talk to her, would you? Find out what’s going on.”

“Me? What makes you think I’ll have any sway?”

“You’ve known her a little longer than I have,” Kendi replied dryly. “Please?”

Ben sighed. “I’ll try. But if she gets mad at me, I’m taking it out on you.”

The sun was setting and the neighborhood was getting worse. A trio of toughs Ara as she passed and she wished she had some sort of weapon, despite Unity law. Almost anything more powerful than a knife was strictly forbidden, and Ara had decreed pistols too risky. Now she wished she had taken the chance.

The crowd on the sidewalk was light, though battered ground cars hummed up and down the crumbling pavement. Trash littered the streets, and the people had a more haggard look. Most of the buildings were older, made of brick and mortar instead of aerogel. Many of them were cracked, and quite a few lay in ruins-victims of the Unity bombing years ago. Another time she passed a vacant lot filled with ramshackle shacks. Ragged people looked at Ara over open cooking fires. The marketplace, she realized with an odd clarity, was meant for the more affluent citizens of Irfan. This was how the majority of the population lived.

A Unity guard ground car, red and black, cruised slowly down the street. The people quietly vanished into their shacks, and Ara forced herself to keep an impassive expression as it went by. Were they looking for the boy? Ara assumed the Unity didn’t know who he was yet-they would have already snapped him up-but that could change at any moment.

Something tapped at Ara’s mind. ~Don’t worry about the guards, Mother,~ came Trish’s voice. ~I’m whispering to them. They don’t want to stop anyway, so they’re taking my advice.~

— Good work,~ Ara replied, grateful for the reassurance. Trish was very talented at whispering and knew her job well. All Silent could reach out of the Dream and contact other Silent, though many could do nothing more than alert the receiver to their presence. “Knocking,” as it was called, was a widely-accepted signal for the receiver to drop into the Dream for full conversation or to open themselves up to full possession by the sender, as the Empress’s slave had done for Ara. Most Silent, including Ara and Trish, could push the communication a little further and actually transmit words from the Dream to the real world, and a few could actually brush the minds of non-Silent. Full possession of the non-Silent was impossible-or so Ara had thought-but the truly skilled could nudge non-Silent minds, enhance a latent emotion or suppress an existing idea. Trish was good at both.

Ara continued up the street, eyes glued to the boy. Her calves ached again. She’d been on her feet all afternoon, and it was now well into evening. Every so often she glanced back and caught a glimpse of Gretchen behind her. Harenn remained ahead of the procession, following cues supplied by Ben whenever the boy altered course. The boy himself, hands stuffed in his pockets, strode onward.

— I have news, Mother,~ Trish said.

— Can it wait?~ Ara asked almost petulantly.

— The Unity Silent have narrowed the kid’s presence down to Rust.~

A chill rippled Ara’s skin. ~It was inevitable. What else do they know?~

— They think he’s powerful. That means we-yike!~ Her voice cut off.

“Trish? Trish, what’s wrong?” Ara didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until she saw the odd looks from the ragged people passing her on the street. With a double pang she noticed she’d lost Sejal. She sped up a bit and caught sight of him again. His head was down and he was still using his ground-eating pace.

— Trish!~ Ara said urgently. ~Trish, can you hear me?~

— I’m all right, Mother,~ came Trish’s Dream whisper, and Ara wanted to go limp with relief. ~The ground went shaky again. I had to move fast.~

— Don’t stay in the Dream if it’s going to risk-~

— I’m fine, Mother,~ Trish interrupted almost sharply. ~I know what I’m doing.~

Ara took the hint. ~Sorry. Sometimes I’m half Mother Adept and half mother hen.~

Sejal turned another corner, automatically losing Harenn, and Ara stirred her tired legs to a trot. When she turned the corner, Ara found a strange barrier. It was about half a block up the street and had been formed out of a variety of materials-old bricks, chunks of concrete, even old furniture. The wall spanned the street, though a gap in the center would allow a ground car to slip through. Ara’s quarry had already passed through the gap and she hurried to catch up. Through the gap she could see that the neighborhood on the other side looked much the same as this one, except the gutters and sidewalks were clear of trash.

“Hold it!” snapped a voice. Ara halted. A man armed with some kind of staff was standing guard just inside the wall. The staff was tipped with a wicked-looking metal ball. “Glory to the Unity. I don’t recognize you. What’s your business here?”

— I’m on him,~ Trish whispered. ~He’s stubborn and bit afraid, though. It’ll make things difficult.~

Just up the street, Ara saw the boy disappear into one of the apartment buildings just as Gretchen caught up. Ara put on an ingenuous smile and shot Gretchen a look that told her to keep quiet.

“Glory to the Unity,” Ara said. “My daughter and I are looking for an apartment.”

The guard frowned. “In here? Where?”

Ara pulled out her computer pad. She pretended to check the screen, then squinted up the darkening street. “There,” she said, pointing at the building the boy had entered.

The guard narrowed his eyes. “You sure? I don’t remember anyone saying they wanted to move.”

“That’s the address from the ad. Who are you?”

“Neighborhood patrol,” the man said. “And we don’t allow certain kinds of people in here.”

“Oh? People like who?” Gretchen asked.

“Drug dealers, gangs, hookers, other riff-raff,” the man said.

— He’s strong, Mother,~ Trish said. ~He doesn’t want to let you pass and I don’t think I can change his mind.~

Ara raised her eyebrows. “Are you sanctioned by the Unity?”

“No,” the man replied carefully. ”We’re unofficial. We wanted a clean neighborhood, and the Unity doesn’t seem interested in giving it to us. So we made one.”

— Good move, Mother,~ Trish put in. ~Keep acting authoritative.~

“I see,” Ara said briskly. “Well, if you aren’t Unity, you don’t have the power to keep me out, do you?”

The man shifted. “You can pass through the streets,” he admitted. “But no one moves into our neighborhood without Vidya’s okay.”

“And where does this Vidya live?”

“There.” The man pointed to the boy’s building.

“Well, then,” Ara said, still in a brisk tone, “I guess that’ll kill two birds with one stone. We shall pass now.”

“Wait!” shouted another voice, and Harenn hurried up to them. Her veil fluttered with her breathing. “I’m here.”

“My other daughter,” Ara supplied before the guard could ask. “You’re late, my dear. Shall we? Glory to the Unity.”