Steven Harper - Dreamer

Kendi told the story. He left out a few details, such as the rent boys and the fact that he had suspected Sejal was his nephew. He also glossed over the Unity prison, though his heart sped up noticeably when he mentioned his arrest. Occasionally Melthine or one of the other Council members asked him to clarify a point, but for the most part they listened in attentive silence. Kendi ended with a summary of his conversation with Ara about teaching Sejal.

“I am within my rights to take him as my student,” he concluded with a note of defiance in his voice. “The law is very clear.”

The Ched-Balaar Grandfather who had first appeared in the circle spoke up in a deep, thrumming voice. “Such are unusual circumstances, Brother Kendi. You are new to instruction, and the young man requires special training for this Silence most unusual. Perhaps someone with greater experience is more appropriate.”

“Mother Adept Araceil has offered to advise me.” Kendi’s insides felt shaky but his voice remained firm. “I know I’m new to teaching, but I’m not foolish. I have no problem with shouting for help if I get in over my head.”

“Is Sejal causing the disturbances in the Dream?” asked the Ched-Balaar Grandfather.

Kendi slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not an expert in Dream mechanics. But I don’t think he is. Tremendous pain and suffering emanates from the disturbance. Sejal doesn’t seem to be in enough agony to cause anything like it.”

“Isn’t it possible that it’s subconscious?” Grandfather Melthine said.

“I suppose,” Kendi said, still dubious. “But it doesn’t feel right. Anyone in that much subconscious pain, it seems to me, wouldn’t be able to function well in the solid world either, and Sejal seems perfectly fine to me.”

“Does the Empress know of this boy?” the centipede asked.

“She does, Grandmother Nik,” Ara put in. Was that a quaver in her voice? “I have been in constant contact with her Imperial Majesty since we arrived on Rust. She has been receiving from me the reports that I’ve only recently made to the Council because her original orders were for me to keep Sejal’s existence a secret. That order has recently been rescinded.”

This brought on a storm of startled whispers among the Councilors. Melthine let it continue for a moment, then rapped his walking stick on the stone floor for attention.

“What is the Empress’s assessment, then?” he asked.

“She wants him watched carefully and she wants me to continue reporting to her.”

“What is her attitude toward the boy?” Grandmother Nik asked. Her Dream speech was high-pitched and full of little clicks. Kendi knew that in the solid world, he wouldn’t even be able to hear her voice, let alone understand her language. “Did she give you any instructions regarding him?”

Ara hesitated. “With respect, Grandmother, this would not be…an appopriate venue to answer that.”

Kendi glanced at her. She was doing it again-hiding information. He considered pressing her here in the Dream where it was impossible to lie, then discarded the idea. Pressing her was a good idea, but not here before the entire Council. He had the feeling that it would be best for him and Ara to appear united when it came to Sejal.

“Very well,” Grandmother Nik said gravely. “I respect your judgement, Mother Adept. But I will require the information at a more appropriate time.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Ara said quietly.

“Does anyone else have any questions for Brother Kendi or Mother Ara?” Melthine asked. No one did. “Then I adjourn this meeting. Mother Ara and Brother Kendi, I do want to discuss this further with both of you when you arrive on Bellerophon. Please alert me to your arrival and let me know if anything more happens.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Kendi and Ara replied in unison.

Melthine vanished and the room went with him, leaving behind a flat, featureless plain. In the distance, no longer hidden by the castle wall, lay the deep canyon that had opened almost beneath Kendi’s feet and the cracked darkness that covered it. Ara had said there were nineteen planets hidden by the chaos, either inside it or surrounded by it, no one knew for certain which. No one had been able to communicate with the Silent on those planets, which were part of a government that called itself the People’s Planetary Democracy. The Independence Confederation, the Empire of Human Unity, and the Hadric Kingdoms had sent courier ships to investigate, but the fastest of the slipships wouldn’t arrive for at least another week, and it would take further time for them to come back. Until then, the planets remained incommunicado.

One by one, the other Council members vanished. Ara and Kendi faced each other on the blank plain.

After a few hearbeats, both of them said, “My turf?” and laughed.

“We were at your place last time,” Kendi pointed out. “Come on. The Outback isn’t far.”

“It would be even closer if you’d learn to transport yourself,” Ara grumbled, but fell into step beside him. They walked in companionable silence, and Kendi carefully called to his Outback. After a short time, the terrain changed. The plain became sandy soil dotted with scrubby plant life. The sky deepened to a stunning blue, and a gold sun shone with glittering brilliance above them. Kendi welcomed the dry heat after the cool, stony castle. His clothes melted away, leaving him barefoot in a loincloth. Ara’s robe changed into a white cloth strip over breasts and loins. The outfit worked well on Ara’s round form and dark skin.

A high, free scream overhead announced the presence of Kendi’s falcon. He put his arm up, and she dove down to land on it. He set her on his shoulder and continued walking. A short time later, they reached the cliff and the entrance to Kendi’s cave. They entered together and sat down on the sandy floor just inside the cave’s mouth. The walls were dry, and the air was cooler. The falcon leaped off his shoulder to perch on one of the rocks and preen.

“Is Sejal causing the disturbance?” Ara asked without preamble.

“I’ve thought about that a lot,” Kendi answered, “and the idea just doesn’t feel right. I can feel the pain in that blackness all the way over here, and I just don’t get the feeling that Sejal is hurting like that. Not even Harenn hurts that much.”

Ara nodded, her dark hair melding with the cave shadows. “I feel the same. And you can hear more than one voice wailing in the disturbance.”

“What kind of group could cause such a thing?” Kendi asked. “And why?”

“No way to tell right now,” Ara sighed. “Unless someone is willing to risk going inside the disturbance to look around.”

Kendi shook his head emphatically. “Not me.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Ara shifted position and sat cross-legged. “All right, let’s get this over with. Ask me what you really want to know.”

“Are you going to answer me this time?” Kendi said warily. “No evasions? No changes in subject.”

“I’ll try, Kendi,” Ara sighed. “This will be hard for me, and I want you to keep that in mind.”

The obvious pain in her dark eyes made sudden sympathy well up in Kendi’s chest. The topic was painful for her. Why hadn’t he seen that before? He could only have been making it worse, pushing at her the way he had. Shame made him fidget uncomfortably. Impulsively he reached out and took her hand the way she had so often taken his during his early, daunting excursions into the Dream.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Mother Ara,” he said. “Look, if it’ll be that painful to-”

“No. It needs to be over and done with.” She wet her lips. “Kendi, the Empress told me to watch and evaluate Sejal. She said that if, in my opinion, Sejal poses a threat to the Confederation…” She trailed off.