Steven Harper - Dreamer

“Oh,” I said, not sure what to tell her.

“If you learn to take non-Silent into the Dream, please alert me,” Harenn said, getting up. “I have little to offer you except friendship and gratitude, but I hope you will consider it.” And then she left.

I still have no idea what I’m going to tell her.

DAY 8, MONTH 11, COMMON YEAR 987

Kendi won’t let me back into the Dream. He says I need more controls, more people to watch me in case something goes wrong. But I know what I’m doing. I can feel it. Kendi’s got me doing more meditation exercises now, but I don’t need them. I can breathe and trance like it’s second nature. I don’t even need the drugs he says everyone else needs.

The whispering started again. Kendi says that the Silent are always at least a little aware of other minds in the Dream. That’s the whispering I hear. Traditionally, it means the Dream is calling. Some people are more sensitive to it than others, and I guess I’m pretty sensitive. When you answer by entering the Dream, the whispering ends. For a while, anyway.

Kendi says no one knows how or why this works, though some people say that a Silent’s brain is structured to need other minds around it. The Dream fills that need.

If it’s a need, then why shouldn’t I go?

DAY 15, MONTH 11, COMMON YEAR 987

We’re one day out from Bellerophon, and I did it. I went back. I’m shaky now, but I’m okay. For a minute I thought I was going to die, but It was easy, actually. I just went to bed, tranced as deep as I could, and reached for the Dream.

I opened my eyes in my room back on Rust. For a brief second, I thought I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. Then I realized that this place was too real, more real than a regular dream ever is. I half expected Mom to come walking in. Suddenly I missed her and I hoped she was safe.

I pushed the feeling aside and went exploring. The whispering was still there, but it wasn’t scary. It was comforting, a soothing presence in the background.

I left the apartment and trotted out to the street. It was empty. Kendi says that you can create animals in the Dream, but not people. Again, no one knows why. It may be a subconscious taboo that no one’s been able to overcome.

Maybe I’ll be able to do it one day.

Anyway. At the end of the street was that blackness I saw the other time, the one Sister Gretchen asked me if I was creating. Angry red cracks showed through it, and it felt powerful. It seemed bigger than last time. I stared at it. It felt like any minute the darkness was going to roll up the street like a thunderstorm.

And something in the darkness called to me. It was a strong voice, familiar and lonely. It didn’t call to me by name, but it did call. I wanted to be there, next to the darkness. The desire filled me and pulled at me. And then it happened. The city vanished around me, and I was standing on a flat surface with darkness an inch from my nose. I jumped back, lost my balance, and fell flat on my ass.

I scrambled backward. My heart was beating fast. This close to the darkness, I heard a deep thrumming, a vibration that set my teeth on edge. And the darkness wailed. It cried and screamed. My hands shook. The whole thing scared the shit out of me, but I also wanted to go into it. It’s like the way you want to pull a scab off a sore-you know it’s going to hurt, but you can’t resist.

There were other people around, some in clumps, others alone. Lots of them weren’t human. I stared. The Unity doesn’t allow non-humans, not even as slaves, and I’d only seen aliens in pictures or holograms. Most of them had too many legs or eyes or were weird colors or actually had tentacles. After a second I realized I was staring and I made myself stop.

The humming and wailing continued, like a nail dragging across glass. Something moved inside the dark, and that desire to go in filled me. I moved toward it again, ignoring an alien standing only a few yards away, and slowly put my hand out. My fingertips crept closer and barely entered the black area.

Instant cold swept my hand and arm. Some kind of force grabbed my hand and yanked me forward. I screamed. I dug in my heels and fought, but whatever it was had me good. I tried to leave the Dream the way Mother Ara had taught me, but I couldn’t think straight enough to concentrate. The force dragged me in up to my elbow.

And then two other people were beside me, pulling me back. They grabbed hold of me hard. All three of us dug in and pulled. It felt like my arm was coming off, but we didn’t stop pulling. Finally my arm wrenched free. We toppled backward into a pile with me on top and lay there breathing hard. After a second, we all rolled apart. I got up and turned to help the others up and thank them. That was when I noticed only one of them was human. The other had four legs, two arms, and a long neck with a big head. The other was a human woman with dark hair and eyes. She wore a brown robe and a gold disk on a chain. A Child of Irfan.

“You are uninjured?” the alien asked.

I tried to answer, but only squeaked. Whether it was from what had just happened or from the fact that I was facing a real alien, I’m not sure. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“I’m all right,” I said. “Thanks.”

“What possessed you to do something so foolish?” the woman asked.

I shook my head and gestured at the darkness. “What is that?”

“Is this the first time you view it?” the alien said. “You must be new in the Dream.”

“Kind of.” It suddenly occurred to me that if the woman was a Child of Irfan and she recognized me later, I might get into trouble for entering the Dream without permission. I thanked both of them again, pulled my thoughts together like Mother Ara taught me, and suddenly I was back in my room on the ship.

I sat up and looked at my arm. It still ached, and I felt bruises forming where the alien and the woman had hauled on me. Kendi had warned me this would happen, that any injury I received in the Dream would carry over into my physical body. I went down to the bathroom and took a hot shower, and that helped. I can’t ask for painkillers without Harenn asking why.

Speaking of Harenn, she hasn’t asked me again if I would take her into the Dream, though she nods when I meet her in the corridor or at meals. Part of me says I should do it and make her owe me, but then I realize I’m thinking like a gigolo again. Part of me says I should do it because it would help her. And part of me says I should just stay out of the whole thing.

When I was little and saw Mom making big decisions for the community, I thought it must be great to boss people around. I couldn’t wait to be an adult so I could make big decisions too. Now that it’s happening, I don’t want it.

Sometimes growing up really shits.

Kendi tapped the final keys that brought the Post Script into orbit around Bellerophon. Ara was engrossed with receiving last-minute landing instructions, Gretchen was relaying sensor information to Kendi’s boards, and Ben Ben bent over his console, not looking in Kendi’s direction. It was as if he and Kendi had never spoken. Ben had gone right back to avoiding Kendi, refusing even speak to him except as ship’s business required. It was driving Kendi insane. He’d tried to push Ben out of his mind by putting all his energies into teaching Sejal. It didn’t work.

On the viewscreen, Bellerophon showed dark green continents and bright blue oceans beneath dramatic spirals of sweeping white clouds. Kendi sighed. After so much time on red Rust, the green, cool forests of Bellerophon called to him, making him long to vanish into emerald leaves and silver mists.

“He’s doing it again, Mother,” Gretchen said from her boards.