Steven Harper - Dreamer

Another knock at the door made him sit up. “Come in.”

Gretchen slid the door open. “Intercom’s broken,” she announced. “Ara told me what happened. She wants to brief everyone, but first-”

“Attention! Attention!” said the computer’s voice. “Unity customs officials will board in five minutes.”

Kendi stood up. “Guess the intercom’s fixed.”

“Do you think what happened has something to do with the child?” Gretchen asked as they headed for the door.

“Dunno,” Kendi said. “But something that can do that to the Dream scares the hell out of me.”

The quarantine and customs people only confiscated five shots of painkillers, a pair of goldfish Ara had warned Trish not to bring, and three heads of lettuce from the galley. Some extensive clinking that passed from Ara’s hands to the inspector’s ensured that they confiscate nothing else.

After they left, Ara called a briefing in the tiny galley. Despite her earlier threat, Kendi didn’t have to clean up the mess left by his abrupt u-turn. Jack Jameson, who held forth as ship’s cook and quartermaster, had already taken care of that. Not everyone could sit down, even though the crew numbered only eight. Kendi-and the others, he was sure-would have preferred to meet somewhere else, but the customs inspectors had just left, and Ara was worried they might have planted listening devices. Trish had so far managed to sweep only the galley.

Ara, Kendi, Gretchen, Trish and Ben got seats at the table. Jack, a thin, blond man in his late fifties, hovered in a corner. Pitr’s solid bulk occupied the doorway. Abruptly he yelped and stood aside. Harenn Mashib slouched into the room, her dark eyes heavy above her blue veil. She was short, with an average build and olive skin. Kendi wondered what she had done to make Pitr jump. Harenn moved toward Jack’s corner, and he vacated it immediately.

“Coffee?” she grumped.

“I’d like to get started,” Ara interjected tartly, and launched into an explanation of what had happened in the Dream. Pitr, who was also Silent, went pale.

“So whenever you go into the Dream, I want you to be extra careful. Get out if something in your environment changes and you can’t fix it,” Ara concluded. She drummed her fingers briefly on the tabletop. “I also met personally with the Empress.”

The group stirred at this, and Kendi stole a glance at Ben. Ben’s eyes, however, remained locked on Ara.

“She wants the child at all costs,” Ara said. “She’s worried this kid might kill someone or even start a war. We are to find the child quickly. Highest priority.”

Kendi shifted in his seat. Something didn’t feel right. He looked closely at Ara’s face, but found no help there. Like Ben, she wouldn’t look at him.

She’s holding something back, he decided. What’s with that?

“Kendi’s will search the black markets,” Ara continued. “Gretchen will check out the legitimate slaves. Ben, you and Trish see what you can find on the nets. Anything unusual might be a clue. Pitr, I want you to explore the Dream, see if you find anything funny. I’m going to shmooze with the bureaucrats. Jack, you deal with inquiries about buying our cargo. Harenn, you keep working on the damage we sustained when the Unity fired on us.”

“I’ll probably be a few days, Mother,” Kendi said. “It takes time to make contacts. I’ll check in when I can.”

Ara nodded, still without looking at him. “Just remember-we are nothing more than humble confection traders. If you even poke your nose out a hatchway, make sure you’re wearing a purple tunic. Questions? Then head out, troups.”

Everyone except Kendi moved for the door. After the room cleared, he turned to Ara.

“I can’t wear the tunic when I’m trying to make contacts,” Kendi said. “I’d be better off posing as an out-of-towner instead of showing up as an off-worlder.”

“You’d know better than I would,” Ara said in a neutral voice.

The hell with it. “Ara, what aren’t you telling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you aren’t telling me everything. Did the Empress say something? Something you left out of the briefing?”

“No.”

Kendi blinked. “You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever lied to me.”

“Leave it, Kendi.”

“Ara, I’m second in command here. If the Empress told you-”

“I said, leave it!” Ara snapped.

“Fine.” Kendi rose. “Just don’t get yourself killed or incapacitated, Mother, or I’ll be commanding this shitshingle half blind.” And he left the galley.

Ara shifted impatiently from foot to foot. She examined her fingernails. She counted the gray ceiling tiles. And she waited. Behind her, in the public clerk’s office proper, low murmurs mixed with the clatter of computer keys and flat-voiced computer responses as people used the terminals. Despite the computer access, however, a hefty line of people waited to talk to the half-dozen clerks behind the counter. Painted signs admonished, Everything for the Good of the Unity, You Are Your Neighbor’s Keeper, and You Have a Friend in the Unity. The room was cramped and dingy, with dirty white tile on the floor and cheap, lumpy walls. Ara had been waiting in line for an hour, and that gave her time to think. Words and phrases mixed in her head, and the office offered no distractions.

The safety of this Confederation is more important.

I think that’s the first time you ever lied to me.

I want you to destroy it.

There’s something you aren’t telling me.

The line shuffled forward a pace. Ara sighed. She had wanted to tell Kendi what the Empress had said, but the words had stuck in her throat. How could she kill a child?

Maybe it won’t come to that, she told herself. Maybe the child won’t be a threat.

“Glory to the-Ara? Stars above, is that you?”

A chill stabbed Ara’s bones. She glanced up sharply and realized she had reached the front of the line. Behind the counter was a man who looked about sixty. He was bald, heavily freckled, and thin. He didn’t look the least bit familiar. Who was he? How had he recognized her? Should she brazen it out? Pretend he was mistaken? Run for it?

She settled on polite bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I don’t think I-”

“It’s me, Ara. Chin Fen.”

Recognition dawned. “Fen?” Ara gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Fen shrugged. “Everyone’s got to go somewhere. What are the odds, huh? Looks like you didn’t complete-” He halted for a moment, then leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Complete your Silent training after all.”

Relief washed through Ara, though she didn’t relax. Chin Fen had left the Children of Irfan when he and Ara were in their early twenties. She remembered him as quiet and shy. More of a hanger-on than a friend. He’d always been friendly, though, and now that Ara was over her initial shock, she realized his presence was a gift, a free contact.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” she admitted. “But what should we expect after-”

“Don’t say how many years it’s been,” Fen interrupted. “I don’t want to hear it.”

God, he’s a year younger than I am, Ara thought, trying not to stare at the wrinkles and spots. And I’m not even fifty. Is that what living under the Unity does?

Fen lowered his voice again. “Look, don’t tell anyone that you’re Silent, even an untrained one. You’ll be sold into slavery. You wouldn’t believe what I went through to avoid being found out.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Ara murmured.

Fen nodded. “So what made you leave the…university?”

“I had a change of heart,” Ara replied. “It didn’t turn out to be what I was looking for.”