Steven Harper - Dreamer

“Did it ever occur to you to ask what Sufur would eventually want you to do?” he said when Sejal finished.

“I don’t have to do a thing,” Sejal said smugly. “It’s in my contract. Besides, no one can force me to do anything. It’s why the Unity and the Children of Irfan are so hot to get their hands on me.” He picked up a small pebble and threw it out into the water.

“You know what really flames, Kendi?” Sejal said quietly. “It’s that you and the Children didn’t come after me because I needed help. You came after me because I’m a walking power bank and you didn’t want anyone else to get hold of me. You didn’t care about me.”

Kendi winced at that. “I care about you now,” he said.

“That doesn’t cut it.” Sejal unfolded his legs. “I’m not coming back, Kendi. You can’t persuade me and you sure as hell can’t make me. You’re not my teacher anymore. Why don’t you just leave?”

“I don’t want to leave,” Kendi said.

“Fine. Then I will.” And he vanished before Kendi could reply. The ocean, beach, trees, and seabirds disappeared with an inrush of energy that left Kendi dizzy for a moment. Remaining was the flat, empty plain and the ever-present darkness at the horizon. He heard it wailing even at this distance.

The dizziness cleared, and emotions jumbled through Kendi’s insides. He had betrayed Sejal, played the judas goat that kept cows calm until the butcher came. The idea made him sick.

Feeling rotten, Kendi trotted in a random direction and mentally rebuilt his Outback. The sun reappeared and the gray sky became a perfect blue. His clothes vanished.

And then he smacked into a hard wall. Kendi fell backward, stunned. Harsh laughter mixed with a cry of pain. Dazed, Kendi sat up. He was in a stone room filled with shadows. One of the shadows stood over another with a black knife in its hand. The shadow on the floor cried out and raised its hands, but the knife descended again and again and again. Kendi watched, frozen. A smaller bit of shade slithered across the floor toward Kendi with a wet, slippery noise. Heart twisting within his chest, Kendi tried to back away, but he was already pressed against the cold bars of the cell.

“Leave me alone,” Kendi croaked. “You aren’t real. This isn’t real. I am here but I want to be there. I am here but I will be there.”

The scene didn’t change. The shadow with the blade laughed harshly and turned slitted yellow eyes on Kendi. At Kendi’s feet, the smaller shade had stopped moving. As if in a daze, Kendi reached for it, then snatched his hand back.

“No!” he cried. “This isn’t real.” He clenched his eyes shut and put tight fists over his ears.

Keeeendiiiiiii, whispered the shadow. Keeeeendiiiiiii. I have something for you. Keeendiiiiiii.

Kendi’s breathing came in short, sharp gasps. He could felt the cold shadow sliding toward him. “If it is my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere-”

Keeeendiiiiii…

“-let me leave the Dream. Let me leave the Dream now!”

Something shifted. The laughing ceased as if someone had thrown a switch. Kendi opened his eyes. He was standing in the corner of his room at the monastery, rubber-tipped spear under his knee. Sweat varnished every inch of his body and had actually made a small puddle on the floor beneath him. Slowly, Kendi put the spear away, ran a damp hand through equally damp hair, and stepped into the bathroom for a shower.

Although Kendi was a full Sibling and his stipend was easily enough to let him afford a house, Kendi preferred to live in the monastery quarters set aside for newly-graduated students who had not yet paid back their debt to the Children and needed an inexpensive place to live. Kendi put aside the money he saved in rent with the hope of buying his own slipship one day. His room was furnished with a bed, desk, two comfortable chairs, a wardrobe, and a few shelves of bookdisks. A few bits of animal statuary-a kangaroo, a koala bear, and a falcon-were the only adornments in the room.

Kendi closed his eyes under the warm spray. This was solid. This was real. He didn’t need to worry or think about what had happened in the Dream. Like the nightmares, it was just a shadow not worth examining.

He shut the water off, dried, and dressed. Then he started to call Ara to tell her about his conversation with Sejal, but he found himself ordering the computer to call Ben instead. The wall flashed blue and the words “Placing call” blinked in pleasant yellow print.

This was stupid. They had all arrived on Bellerophon three days ago, and Ben hadn’t tried to contact Kendi once. Why was Kendi putting himself through this? Ben refused to discuss the idea of Sejal taking him into the Dream-not that it was likely to happen now-and it was patently obvious that Ben didn’t want things to work between him and Kendi. Kendi should give it up before he turned into one of those weirdos that stalked ex-lovers until they ended up in an asylum.

The phone rang twice more. Kendi was about to hang up when the wall flashed and Ben came onto the screen. His hair was, as usual, boyishly disheveled.

“Kendi,” Ben said. “Hi. What’s wrong? You look upset.”

“I do?” Kendi asked, startled that it showed so readily.

“You’re pale.”

“Yeah?” Kendi said weakly. He stretched out dark-skinned hands. “How can you tell?”

Ben laughed, and Kendi’s insides flipped a little at the sound. Then he grew more serious. “Mom told me about Sejal taking off. Is that what’s going on?”

“Kind of,” Kendi admitted. All of a sudden he felt weak and wrung out, as if he were a shadow fading in the sunlight. “This whole thing is a mess and I don’t know what to do.”

“You look like shit,” Ben observed. “You want to get something to eat?”

Kendi carefully kept the surprise off his face. “Uh, sure.”

“Let me put this stuff away and I’ll come over. Give me fifteen minutes, okay?”

Ben disconnected, leaving Kendi staring at a blank wall. He shook his head. Was this just an overture of friendship? Or did it mean something more? Kendi suddenly remembered being back in his quarters on the Post Script. Kendi still thought Sejal was a relative, and Ben had just told him not to get his hopes up.

I always get my hopes up, he had said. Sometimes it’s all that keeps me going.

Except this time the hopes wouldn’t rise. Ben went back and forth so often that Kendi just couldn’t find the energy. If something happened, it happened. If it didn’t, it didn’t.

Kendi almost laughed. He could almost hear the approval of the Real People about this line of thought. Still feeling wrung out, he placed another call, this time to Ara. He told her about meeting Sejal in the Dream.

He didn’t mention the cell or the shadows.

Sejal peered into the roaring, wailing blackness. A bone-shaking throb vibrated his teeth. Angry red cracks formed a three-dimensional lattice throughout. It was still angry. It was still in pain. And it still called to him.

Inside, he caught the occasional glimpse of the girl dancing. Was she the one calling to him? What would happen if he just walked toward her? Would he be trapped? Would he die? He wanted to know, but was too afraid to find out.

The darkness was definitely bigger. The line of Silent he had seen the last time he had gotten this close to it was nowhere to be seen. After it had expanded so quickly last time, no one dared get close to it. Except Sejal.

The throbbing hum continued, like constant thunder. Sejal backed away from it, feeling oddly at a loss. Finally he turned his back and ran until he was a safe distance away. The wailing receded. He thought about calling up his beach again, then decided to give it a miss. The gray sky and ground fit his mood better than the beach. He was still worried about his mother. Was she all right? Had she been arrested? She had promised to find a way off Rust and get to Bellerophon, but what if she couldn’t and got caught? Even if she did show up at the monastery, Sejal wasn’t there, and Sejal hadn’t given Kendi enough information to let anyone locate him.