Steven Harper - Dreamer

They are not sentient, Prasad told himself over and over. The mental capacity is not there. They aren’t aware that they exist any more than a fish or a chicken is.

But lately Prasad had begun to wonder. How could something non-sentient have so much brainwave activity? How could something without a mind enter the Dream? And how was all this helping Dr. Say and Dr. Kri figure out how to let Silent gestate outside a mother’s living womb?

Prasad continued to stare through the barrier. His breath fogged the plastic with warm white mist. Some of those subjects were his children, just as surely as Katsu was his daughter. Were they suffering? Did they feel fear and pain? Lately, he had become more and more sure that they did.

A great restlessness filled Prasad. How long had it been since he had visisted the surface? Three years? Four? Suddenly he felt caged in. How had he let himself go on this far?

Then he thought of the surface. It was the surface where wars were waged, where Silent children were ripped from their parents’ arms, where innocent people starved because a foreign government desired more resources. Down here everything was safe and hidden. Food was plentiful. His daughter was free to pursue whatever interest she desired.

And what would happen if she desired an interest that took her above the surface? he thought. What would Dr. Kri say to that?

Prasad left the lab and walked the quiet corridors back the apartment. The entire place felt wrong to him now, and he felt a growing restlessness, as if something were coming for him and for Katsu, something that had nothing to do with her eggs or her genes. Should he and Katsu leave the complex? Get out right now? But how could he arrange it?

Prasad Vajhur checked on his daughter one more time-she was still asleep or in the Dream-and went to bed, where he spent a fruitless night trying to sleep.

SHIP POST SCRIPT

“He’s going to need a teacher, Ara,” Kendi said, trying to keep his temper.

“Not a good idea at this stage,” Ara replied firmly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kendi demanded. “Sejal has a new form of Silence, and someone needs to teach him how to use it. He’s already sixteen years old. He should have started lessons years ago.”

Ara set her tea on the small table next to her armchair. Kendi sat across from her in a matching armchair. Ara’s quarters always seemed overstuffed to him, with their preponderance of furniture, rugs, bookshelves, and desk space. The place felt stuffy and humid, a far cry from the spartan quarters he himself kept.

“You’ve answered your own question,” Ara said. “Sejal has a new form of Silence. How can anyone teach him how to use it?”

“Silence is Silence,” Kendi shot back. “He needs to learn meditation and concentration, no matter what his abilities are. And he needs to start now.”

“Have you been in the Dream lately?” Ara asked.

“I’ve been too busy. Harenn kept us all jumping, trying to get the ship back in order. You’re the only one who’s been in since…” Kendi licked his lips, trying to suppress the lump of sudden sorrow in his throat. “…since Pitr’s funeral.”

“The Dream has gotten more dangerous since then,” Ara said flatly. “There have been more incidents like that pit opening up and that canyon appearing, and now there’s some sort of…I don’t know what to call it. A storm, maybe. It’s swallowed up nineteen planets, and their Silent have gone incommunicado. This is not a good time to bring a novice into the Dream.”

“I won’t be bringing Sejal into the Dream,” Kendi shot back, though Ara’s description of danger had piqued his curiosity. “He has to learn breathing and meditation, and then we have to figure out what drug cocktail will get him the rest of the way. We have to get started now.”

“Kendi,” Ara said, switching tactics, “you’ve never taught anyone before. You’re inexperienced.”

“So were you at one time. Look, I’ve had all the courses on how to teach the Silent, and I’ve reviewed the material. I have to start somewhere. If I get stuck, I’ll call for help.”

“Kendi-”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this?” Kendi interrupted. “Ara, what’s going on? I know there are things you haven’t told me. Is this related to any of that secrecy bullshit?”

“There’s no need to swear,” Ara said primly.

“The hell there isn’t,” Kendi snapped. “You’ve been leading us by the nose for days and telling us next to nothing. You even kept quiet about this new thing in the Dream until now.” His voice softened. “That isn’t like you. The Real People-my people-have a saying: It’s far easier for people to do what’s necessary when they understand why it must be done. ”

“Irfan said that,” Ara murmured.

“She got it from us,” Kendi said without missing a beat. “Look, the point is you know I’m right. Keeping information from us-from me-isn’t helping here. What has the Empress been telling you?”

“Did I say this had anything to do with the Empress?”

“Dammit!” Kendi slammed his fist on the arm of his chair, but the padded surface muffled the noise and crippled the dramatic impact. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I’m taking Sejal as a student.”

Ara gave him a cool stare. “You can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah? Try this. The Law of the Children, section four, subsection six, paragraph two point one, and I quote: Any Silent who has achieved the rank of Sibling or higher may begin instructing students. I’m still a full Brother, last I looked. Section eight, subsection twelve, paragraph four point one: Any Sibling who locates and brings a fellow Silent to the ranks of the Children has the option of becoming the new Silent’s teacher, provided such an arrangement is agreeable to both parties.”

“Just looked it all up, I take it.”

“Look,” Kendi said, “Sejal wants me for his teacher. He said so when I asked him this morning. The regs are my side. For once.”

“There are too many unknowns here, Kendi. I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me,” Kendi countered, “unless you throw me in the brig. Oh, wait-we don’t have one. Shucks.”

“I’ll confine you to quarters.”

Kendi almost countered with the fact that he could press charges against Ara for breaking protocols. But, he realized, that would probably only spur Ara to dig in and become even more stubborn, and the fight would only escalate from there. Five years ago he would have fought, but despite what Ara liked to think, Kendi had learned at least a few things about human nature and the art of diplomacy.

“Ara,” he said, “the law is very clear here. I found Sejal, I get to teach him. You know that’s the case. If there’s something you haven’t told me that might change my mind, now’s your chance.”

“Why are you so interested in this boy?” Ara asked. “You do know he isn’t related to you.”

Kendi shrugged, ignoring the stab of disappointment awakened by Ara’s words. “I like Sejal. He’s a nice kid. We click when we’re together.”

“And are you sure you want to change that relationship? Being a teacher is different from being a friend.”

“I want to show him the Dream,” Kendi said simply.

“And you want the advancement opportunity.”

Kendi gave her a hard look. Although he was a full Brother among the Children, Kendi didn’t intend to remain a Sibling forever. As a Father, he would be allowed to scout on his own for other Silent outside the Dream. As a Father Adept, he would be able to lead a crew of recruiters as Ara did. It was a strict rule among the Children of Irfan, however, that new monks had to pay back all that the Children had done for them-education, room, board, and Silent training-and no one advanced beyond Sibling before this debt was repaid.