Steven Harper - Dreamer

“What?” Trish asked.

“How the hell did he do that?” Gretchen said.

“You didn’t give him any drugs, did you?” Ara demanded.

Kendi yanked open the medicine chest in his quarters and snatched up a dermospray. “I’m not stupid, Ara. He got in there by himself. Meet me on my t-”

The room spun and Kendi staggered. The dermospray clattered to the floor as he flung out a hand to steady himself on the sink. It felt as if he had been shoved from behind.! KeNdi!

“Sejal?” he gasped. The voice had come from all around him.

“Meet you on your turf?” Trish asked, finishing his earlier sentence. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”!! keNDI!!

There was a sharp jerk, and Kendi found himself on an empty street. Nausea washed over him and he dropped retching to his knees. His hands wavered, and for a moment he saw the paving stones through them. The sensation was exactly what he felt whenever he moved instantly through the Dream. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He was here, everything else was there. He was in this spot at this time.

The nausea abated. Kendi got slowly to his feet and glanced around. Where the hell was he? Colorful stalls lined the pavement, but not a single person was in sight. It was the market on Rust. The place was completely, eerily quiet except for barely-audible whispering. In the distance above and beyond the buildings was an area of blackness that looked like it had been cracked with a hammer. Red light glowed through the cracks.

This was the Dream.

“All life.” Cold stole over Kendi. He hadn’t visited the Dream since the…incident in the cave. It wasn’t that he’d been afraid. What was to fear? He’d just been too busy with Sejal.

So why was he cold?!! kendI!!

The world twisted and suddenly Kendi was in the apartment Sejal had shared with his mother. Dry heaves forced him to hands and knees, and it was several moments before he regained his equillibrium. Outside the windows, the sky was dark and streets were empty. Kendi staggered to his feet. It had to be Sejal. There was no other explanation. Except no Silent could snatch someone else into the Dream. It was impossible.

Impossible, he thought in wonder, doesn’t seem to apply to Sejal.

Like the street, the tiny apartment seemed to be completely empty. The air was humid and stuffy and the place smelled of curry. Kendi glanced around uncertainly.

“Sejal?” he called. “Are you here?”!! KeNDI heLp ME!!

The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“Sejal,” Kendi said, forcing himself to keep a calm tone of voice, “listen carefully. I need you to relax. Relax and breathe.”

No answer. Kendi was pretty sure what the problem was. Sejal’s mind had not yet learned how to form a body for him in the Dream, and he was wandering discorporate. If he stayed in that state long enough, the Dream would stretch and thin his mind like the wind dispersing a thread of smoke.

“Imagine yourself, your body,” Kendi said carefully. “Think about your feet and legs, how they connect and how they move. Think about your stomach and chest, how they feel and how they breathe. Think about your arms and shoulders, where they are and what they do. Think about your neck and head, how they look and what they see. Your body is here, everything else is there. You are this, the world is that.”

Kendi realized he was pacing and made himself stop.

“I am going to count. When I say three, you will be standing next to me. One…two… three.”

With a soft pop, Sejal appeared in the room with his eyes tightly shut. He was wearing the tight, ragged clothes Kendi had first seen him in. The Dream rippled briefly around him, but he seemed to be fine. Kendi’s knees went weak with relief. Sejal’s blue eyes popped open. He stared at Kendi for a moment, then burst out crying.

“God!” he sobbed. “God, I was…I was everywhere.”

Kendi, ready for the reaction, put an arm around Sejal’s shoulder and guided him to sit on the couch. “Don’t worry now,” he soothed. “You’re safe.”

After a time, Sejal calmed down. “I’m all right,” he said. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kendi told him. “That’s what I’m here for. I freaked out on Ara’s shoulder plenty of times.”

Sejal looked around. “Where are we? How did we get back ho-back to Rust?”

“We’re here because you created this place,” Kendi told him. “This is the Dream.”

“The Dream?” Sejal echoed. “How?”

“I was going to ask you,” Kendi said. Now that the initial crisis was over, Kendi had time to think about other matters, and his earlier tension remained. Sejal had yanked Kendi into the Dream and Kendi wondered if that meant he would be unable to leave it again.

“What’s the last thing you remember before everything got strange?” he asked, keeping his voice calm.

Sejal shifted and the couch cushions creaked. “I was in a trance. You were beating the drum.” He paused. “Then I heard something. It sounded like someone was calling me. You changed the drum rhythm, and I heard it again. I sort of…reached for it, and suddenly everything went crazy. I don’t know how to describe it. It was like everyplace I’d ever been was rushing around me and voices were pulling at me and the wind was ripping me apart.”

“Then what?”

Sejal furrowed his brow. “I needed help, and I called for you. I could kind of feel you. I knew where you where, and I called to you.”

“I heard you,” Kendi said. “We call that knocking.”

“Then I got really scared and I wanted you there. Like I said, I could feel you, so I reached for you and…and I pulled. Then I heard your voice telling me what to do. I did it, and next thing I know I’m standing in the living room. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Kendi shook his head. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

— Kendi?~

It was Ara’s voice.

“We’re here,” he called. “Can you find us?”

The Dream rippled, and Ara popped into existence. Sejal drew back from her slightly.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine,” Kendi said, and explained what had happened. Just as he was reaching the end of it, Trish and Gretchen appeared, meaning he had to repeat everything. Then Sejal told his version. Kendi noticed that even in the Dream Trish had dark circles around her eyes. She obviously hadn’t been sleeping well since Pitr’s death.

“How,” Gretchen asked, “did Sejal pull you into the Dream, Kendi?”

Kendi shook his head. “I don’t know. It might be an off-shoot of his ability to possess people. I mean, we send our minds out of the Dream to take another Silent. In a way, he’s doing something similar.”

Sejal said nothing.

“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” Ara said decisively. “The instability has grown, and it’s too dangerous to stay.”

Gretchen turned to Sejal. “Are you creating it?”

“Creating what?” he asked, bewildered.

“The black cloud,” Trish said. Her voice was quiet. “Didn’t you see it?”

Sejal nodded. “Yeah, but I thought it was just…part of the landscape or something. I don’t think I created it. I don’t even know how I created all this.” He gestured at the apartment.

“Reflex,” Kendi explained. “When most Silent first visit the Dream, they create familiar, safe places. Eventually you’ll be able to make whatever environment you want, but for now-”

“Let’s discuss it later,” Ara interrupted. “Kendi, can you get back out of the Dream?”

“I don’t know,” Kendi admitted nervously.

“Try,” Ara urged. “We’ll guide Sejal out.”

Kendi closed his eyes and gathered his concentration despite a pounding heart. If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he thought, let me leave the Dream.