Джон Макдональд - Wine of the Dreamers [= Planet of the Dreamers]

“Who is?”

“Why, I am! All of us are. Life is full. You and Raul are the discontented ones. The strange ones. When I was small there was one like you two. In fact, I believe that he may have been the father of your mother. He, too, had a different appearance. He created much trouble, and was punished many times. He struck many of the men, and he was hated and feared. Then one day a woman saw him just as he climbed into the oval tube that leads down into the unending blackness. She had no wish to stop him. You see, that is the end of discontentment. You must learn to be contented.”

Her eyelids grew heavy and she yawned. It angered him.

He leaned forward. “Leesa Kinson, I believe that this attitude of yours is unnatural. I believe that it was caused by your brother. He has been a bad influence. He has nothing to do with any of the games. When he is not dreaming, it is impossible to find him.”

An idea began to shape itself. He considered it carefully. “May I go?” she asked.

“No. I am curious about your brother. I have attempted to talk to him many times. No one knows of his dreams. He does not enter into any of the games. I suspect him of neglect of the prime responsibility of the dream. Has he talked to you of... of any matters which could be considered heresy?”

“Would I tell you?”

“I think you might be glad to. I am not vindictive. If his ideas are incorrect I shall attempt to change them. If you refuse to give me any information, I shall order you to favor a man of my own choosing, one who will follow orders. It is within my power to do that. And it is the Law that you shall bear children.”

Her lips were compressed. “Orders can be disobeyed.”

“And you can be taken to a place on the lowest level and thrust out of this world for failure to disobey an order. I would not care to do that. So tell me what Raul has said to you.”

She moved a bit in the chair, not meeting his glance. “He... he has said things that are not right.”

“Go on.”

“He has said that the three worlds of the dreams actually exist and that what we call dreams are just... a method for us to visit the three real worlds. He says that this world is just a big structure and that it rests on a planet that is like the other three, but colder and older.”

Jord Orlan stood up quickly and began to pace back and forth. “It is more serious than I believed. He needs help. Badly. He must be made to see the Truth.”

“The Truth as you see it?” she asked gently.

“Do not scoff. What did you say when Raul told you his absurd theories?”

“I told him that I didn’t believe him.”

“Very good, my child. But now you must go to him and you must pretend to believe what he says. You must encourage him to say more. You must find out what he does, in his dreams. And you must report everything back to me immediately. When we know the full extent of his heresy we will be in a better position to take his hand and lead him to the Truth.” His voice grew more resonant. He faced her, his arms spread, his face glowing. “Once, when I was young, I doubted too. But as I grew wiser, I found the Truth. The entire universe is encompassed within these familiar walls. Outside is the end of all, an unthinkable emptiness. Our minds cannot comprehend utter emptiness. It is a thousand times less than the floating just before you enter the mind of a dream creature. In this universe, this totality, there are nearly one thousand souls. We are the static nub of the universe, the only small place of reality. It has been thus forever, and forever shall be. Now go and do as I say, Leesa.”

As she went to the doorway she remembered what Raul had told her the day before she was first permitted to dream. “If a small living creature is put in a white box before its eyes are open, if it lives out its life in that box, if food and warmth are provided, and if it dies in that box — then, in the moment of death, the little creature can stare at the walls of the box and say ‘This is the world.’ ”

His words had come back to her an uncomfortable number of times.

She found Raul on one of the highest levels. The micro-book page at which he stared was incomprehensible to her. He heard the soft sound of her bare feet against the floor and turned, startled.

He smiled. “A long time since you’ve come up here, Leesa. I haven’t seen you since you interrupted our talk.”

He clicked off the projector. “What were you looking at?” she asked.

He stood up and stretched. His expression was sour. “At something I’ll never understand, I’m afraid. This box contains all of the texts used by the technicians who piloted the Migration ships. I only found them by accident. I could look for the rest of my life and not find the intermediary texts. The science is beyond me. In the old days it was beyond any individual man too. They were organized into work teams and research teams. Each man handled one part of a particular problem and all of the work was coordinated through the use of integral calculators. But maybe I can—” He stopped suddenly.

She sat in one of the other chairs. “Can what?”

“Maybe I can find out enough so that I can handle one of the patrol ships. I know the interior details of the ships now.”

“What good would that be?”

“I could go to one of the three worlds. I could take some of them onto the ship and bring them back here and bring them into this tower and show them to Orlan and the others. Then they’d stop this childish babbling about the Law, and about this being the only true reality. There are men on Earth who could look at a patrol ship, one man in particular who could learn much from one, so that even if I were unable to return, he would be able to... I talk too much.”

“Maybe I find it interesting.”

“You didn’t a short time ago.”

“Couldn’t I have thought it over?” she said, pouting.

There was excitement in his tone. “Leesa! Are you beginning to see what I’ve seen for so long?”

“Why not? Maybe I could... help you.”

He frowned. “You might, at that. I’d about given up hope of ever... Never mind. I guess I should trust you.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Do you understand now that you’ve spent six years smashing the lives of people who actually exist, who exist and go about their affairs while we’re talking here? Do you believe that?”

She held the chair arms tightly. “Yes,” she said, as calmly as she could.

“I told you that we’ve outlived our purpose. If nothing were done we’d eventually disappear, but we’d go on and on, striking like random lightning into the lives of men until the very end, making public figures do dangerous and incomprehensible things, making obscure little men and women commit acts that baffle their courts, confound their friends and ruin their lives. I am going to put an end to it.”

“How, Raul?”

“Marith is too primitive for space travel — Ormazd too concerned with the human mind to be mechanistic. Earth is my hope. There is a man there who is in charge of a project to build a space ship which is quite like those I showed you from the window. Since so many odd accidents — which we can explain and they can’t — have happened to all previous attempts, this one is being handled with the greatest secrecy. With eleven billion host-minds to choose from, roughly, the less than eight hundred Watchers are unlikely to find this project, even though it is in an area where we have ruined previous projects. I am trying to protect that project and I am trying to get into more direct contact with a man named Bard Lane who is in charge. I want to explain what has happened to previous projects and assure him of my desire to help, and warn him against what one of us might do while dreaming. Not long ago someone stumbled across the project, possessed one of the technicians and spoiled months of work. I haven’t been able to find out who it was. They haven’t been back, but they may come back. I can’t go and talk to the others. It would arouse suspicion, because it would be something I haven’t done in years. But you might be able to find out, Leesa.”