Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1)

by Pamela Davis

  "Well," said Mrs. Philpott, "we should be able to test this out. Keep an open mind, Jessica. I'll admit, this is unusual, but people have speculated for ages that the animals we live with have more intelligence than we give them credit for having."

  The next fifteen minutes were the most exciting of Harry's life as Mrs. Philpott, and then Jessica, devised ways to test out the idea that Harry could communicate with them, answering questions with various body movements. Oh, boy, Harry thought. I can't wait till Sam wakes up so I can tell her about Mrs. Philpott and her cat. Then he wondered if Jessica realized yet that he'd been talking to Sam in his own language for the past six months--and that Sam understood! Probably she didn't know that, he decided. And judging from the looks of amazement, shock, fear, and surprise that continued to fly across her face, Harry thought it was probably best that she not find out anytime soon.

  At that moment, a loud meowing was heard. "Oh, good heavens, I forgot he was in there!" exclaimed Mrs. Philpott as she jumped up and hurried to open the door of the computer room.

  Jessica turned and watched as an exquisite cat walked slowly into the living room after throwing a look of disgust at Mrs. Philpott, who was saying, "I'm sorry, Perceval! We were so caught up in our discussion I forgot you'd probably want to be in on it."

  The cat was a gorgeous Siamese with perfect seal points. The dark color covered his long, tapered tail, paws, and ears. The dark mask of his face looked painted on as it emerged in a triangular fashion between wide pointed ears. Brilliant sapphire blue eyes filled with intelligence took in the scene quickly. He meowed once at Mrs. Philpott, and then turned his elegant, long body, covered in creamy fur, to return to the computer room.

  "I think we're supposed to follow him," Mrs. Philpott said.

  Jessica, Harry and Mrs. Philpott gathered around the computer desk where the cat sat next to the keyboard. Mrs. Philpott explained, "This morning I bought some software designed to accommodate people with physical handicaps. I had just finished installing it when you arrived. It has a screen showing letters of the alphabet that can be entered with a press of the mouse button. The store also had a new touch and glide mouse device which I hope will be easier for him to use than the keyboard and regular mouse. He can position the mouse by sliding his paw along the touchpad and then press gently to click on his choice of letter." She turned to the cat and asked, "How is it working for you?"

  Jessica felt a thrill of excitement as the computer screen lit up with a message from the cat:

  MUCH BETTER

  QUICKER.

  "Oh my God," she said.

  NOT GOD, came the message, NAME IS PERCEVAL.

  "Oh, sorry, Perceval, this is Jessica Samuels, and the dog is Harry," said Mrs. Philpott. "I've just been telling them about the dreams, and you, and then we discovered that Harry understood us and had the same hurricane dream."

  THE DOG HAD THE DREAM???

  REMARKABLE.

  Harry gave a short bark as Jessica read the message aloud.

  "Why remarkable? Harry is a pretty amazing dog--just as smart as any cat," Jessica said defensively to Mrs. Philpott.

  "Oh, dear, let's not start off quibbling about which species is more intelligent," Mrs. Philpott said firmly. "We all need to work together on this, this...whatever this is that is happening. Perceval, Jessica says that Samantha, her little girl, had the hurricane dream as well. I wonder if there is some kind of correlation--" Mrs. Philpott began and was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

  "Hello? Oh, yes, John, they're here," she said into the phone, turning with raised eyebrows to Jessica.

  Jessica took the phone and spoke urgently, "John, get over here right now. No, Sam's okay, but you need to get here as fast as possible. I'll explain when you get here." As she hung up the phone, Jessica laughed ruefully. "Right. I'll explain this. I don't even know if I believe what is happening!"

  The cat meowed and they turned back to the computer for his latest message.

  WAIT FOR MORE TILL JOHN GETS HERE.

  Jessica breathed a long sigh and said in wonder, "He heard me! And understood--he knows about John coming over. I just can't believe this!"

  Mrs. Philpott looked closely at Jessica and realized the younger woman appeared shell-shocked. Grasping her by the elbow, Mrs. Philpott led Jessica out of the computer room and into the kitchen. "Come on," she said firmly. "Let's make some sandwiches and coffee until John comes."

  New York City, New York

  Standing in JFK Airport and fishing his phone card out of his wallet, Nathan felt completely jetlagged. Alex was slumped against the wall next to the bank of phones, dark brown hair escaping from her long braid to hang in wisps around her face. He looked at her for a minute and tried to make his brain fire with some kind of logic.

  "You know what we need to do?" he said.

  "What?" she asked.

  "We need to stop traveling. We need to not get on another plane for at least a day, if not more. We need to leave this airport and go find a hotel and just sleep for twenty-four hours. We're both exhausted and I can't think straight--can you?"

  Alex thought about what he was saying and came to the conclusion that there was no rush in their going home. The news reports they had seen on the televisions in the airport were chilling. Alex realized she was in a mild state of shock over the news about Los Angeles and, at this point, was running on the dregs of adrenaline left in her system. It looked like there was nothing left in L.A. to go back to, and her whole life, such as it was, had been in Los Angeles. She had nothing left, nowhere to go, no home. Staring at Nathan, she saw that he was pale beneath his dark tan with bruised-looking circles under his deep blue eyes. He'd had close friends at the University as well. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was flattened on one side from sleeping against the window of the last plane they'd been on. He was right; they needed a break, a time of relief from travel and some time to grieve, as well.

  "Okay," she said simply. "Let's go." Picking up her bag, Alex headed for the exits where cabs were waiting. Nathan grabbed his guitar case in one hand, large garment bag in the other, and followed numbly, glad to postpone going home. He wasn't ready for California...not yet.

  Cape Fair, Mrs. Philpott's House

  Mrs. Philpott finished making chicken salad sandwiches using the wheat bread Jessica had brought. She knew Jessica was bewildered by today's events and was probably trying to rationalize it all away. Well, she thought, time enough for her to believe it's really happening. She had more experience with it and was still amazed by the dreams and the cat. Although, the cat's intelligence and ability to communicate had not been as surprising to her as might have been expected. Mrs. Philpott had felt more of an affinity with animals the older she got. Working on issues concerning the environment, she had come to believe that part of the problem stemmed from the disconnection between humans and nature. The need humans had to deny intelligence in animals was another way to separate themselves from nature. Over time, she had felt that the problem in communicating with animals came not from the animals' lack of intelligence, but from the human lack of ability to understand animal language.

  As Jessica filled celery sticks with peanut butter for Samantha, she wondered if Mrs. Philpott had put something in the lemonade, but then shook her head and laughed inwardly at herself. This all seemed so outlandish, but it must be possible, she thought. She was seeing it with her own two eyes, but it seemed so unlikely--more like something John would put in one of his novels. In fact, hadn't she read about a dog communicating with humans in one of Dean Koontz's books? He was a favorite author of John's and she'd enjoyed reading his collection of Koontz the first year of their marriage. Something about a genetic experiment on a dog, but that had been just one experiment, not all animals. And that raised another question: was this ability to communicate happening with other animals? Or was it something affecting just the animals in Cape Fair?

  After the pesticide incident with Sam, Jessica knew side effects fro
m environmental pollution could be far-reaching and unexpected. Who knew what might be in the air or water affecting the genetics of the animals--and humans--living in the area? Jessica realized her hands were shaking as she contemplated the idea that genetic changes were occurring, might already have occurred in her very own child. Samantha had the dream! The same dream as the cat and the dog. Did that mean she was changed somehow? What new terrifying world have we created, she wondered fearfully. The sound of John's Jeep Cherokee arriving in Mrs. Philpott's driveway curtailed her thoughts.

  Somewhere over the Mojave Desert, Nevada

  "Have the camera ready to tape as we approach the city," Maria said to Zack as the helicopter flew over the Mojave Desert.

  "Were you this bossy as a kid, or did you develop such an attractive personality trait in adulthood?" Zack asked over the radio headphones.

  Maria looked startled and then laughed as she saw Zack's grin. "What an amusing man you are, Zack Tyler," she said condescendingly, and then continued, smiling. "No, it's not a recent trait. Being an only child, I got all my parents' attention. And when I entered grade school, I expected the same from my teachers and the other kids. It was a shock to discover that they didn't hang on my every word like my parents. Sometimes I think that was the origin of my desire to be a journalist. Anyway, I tended to be bossy back then, too, and it wasn't always appreciated. You can thank my mother for sitting me down and telling me to learn to cooperate, or I would be even worse!"

  Maria stopped talking abruptly as she realized that Zack couldn't thank her mother and neither could she. Her eyes filled with tears.

  "Hey," Zack said, reaching out to grasp her hand and squeeze it tightly. "I'm sorry. I know this is a horrible time for you, and here I am kidding around."

  "No, I need to keep my emotions in check. It's hard, but I'm not going to let my parents down. I have a job to do, and your sense of humor gives me the balance I need. What you and I have seen in the last several days has been horrible. If we let ourselves, we'd both spend a few days crying, and we just don't have the time for it right now. Later, when things calm down, then I'll have time to cry for them. My parents--and all the other dead as well."

  "Maria, you have to let yourself grieve. Besides, when has the news ever calmed down? That's like saying, 'When the world stops turning.' It's not going to happen," Zack said.

  "I know, but I can't let myself fall apart in the middle of a job," Maria said. She pulled a comb from her bag and worked it through the tangles in her hair. "Come on, let's get ready for Las Vegas."

  Cape Fair, Mrs. Philpott's House

  Sam was waking up in the living room, refreshed from her nap. "Daddy!" she said, surprised. "When did you get here?" She ran over to give John a hug and then looked at the three adults who had obviously been discussing something when she woke up. They had that look of being quiet that all grown-ups get when they are in the middle of talking and then decide to stop because a little kid comes into the room. Samantha was tired of seeing that look. It had happened a lot more to her since she'd been sick.

  "Were you guys talking about me again?" she asked in an exasperated tone. "I'm really sick of you grown-ups sometimes."

  "Honey, what's wrong?" Jessica said, bewildered.

  "You know," Sam replied. "You and Daddy and the doctors and all you grown-ups just keep secrets from me. You stop talking when I come into a room, but sometimes I hear you say my name so I know you are too talking about me. You didn't used to do that and I don't like it," said Sam defiantly.

  "We're sorry Samantha," Jessica said, stunned once again by the perception of her child.

  "That's right, Sam, we're very sorry to have done that and we'll try not to do it anymore," John said. "And you are right--we were sitting here talking before you woke up and we did all shut up when you came over. But we weren't just talking about you, Sam. We were talking about Mrs. Philpott and her cat and Harry too."

  Jessica interrupted with, "John--do you think it's okay to--"

  "Yes," he said decisively. "We need to ask Sam some questions and there is no reason she can't know what is happening. Besides, she had the dream."

  "What dream, Daddy?" Sam asked as she climbed up into his lap.

  Mrs. Philpott answered her. "Sam, did you have a dream last night that woke you up?"

  Sam's face clouded over as she replied, "Yeah, a real bad dream. If you guys are talking about dreams, then it's okay if you don't tell me 'cause I don't want to think about that dream. No way. It was too bad to think about. I tried real hard to forget about it today."

  John, who felt he was still in shock after hearing Mrs. Philpott explain about Perceval the cat and the dreams, stroked the top of Samantha's head, her straight blond hair smooth under his hand. "Listen, Sam, sometimes when you talk about a bad dream it can end up making you feel better. And this dream is kind of special because we think Mrs. Philpott had the very same dream."

  Samantha looked quickly at the older woman, brown eyes round in surprise. "You had the same dream as I did? Wow! Harry did too!"

  Jessica said sharply, "Harry had the dream? How do you know that, Sam?"

  "Well, 'cause, I dunno, I just knew," Sam said, confused by Jessica's tone.

  John intervened, saying, "Honey, it's okay, Mommy's just surprised. But that's really something for you and Harry and Mrs. Philpott to have the same dream. Sometimes it's hard for Mommy and me to understand Harry. Can you tell us how you knew he had the dream?"

  Samantha thought for a moment. How did she know? She knew lots of things about Harry, but it was hard to talk about. Finally, she replied, "I dunno how--I mean, it was like other things that I know about him, sort of like he tells me."

  "You mean he talks to you?" Jessica asked, trying to remain calm with difficulty.

  "No, Mom," Sam said giggling. "That would be pretty funny if Harry could talk like you and me. I saw that one time on a commercial on TV, but I never saw a real live dog talk like that. Anyway, you said that lots of the commercials have made up stuff in them anyway and that other thing--affected?"

  "Special effects," Jessica said automatically.

  "Yeah, that's it. But I don't think it's special effects with Harry. He has his own way of saying things--I know!" Sam said excitedly, "It's like when I turn on the channel 7 and I can't understand them and you said it was a foreign language--it's like that! Harry has a foreign language. A dog language! And he told it to me!" Sam was delighted to have found a way to explain it.

  Jessica looked more worried. John tried to give her a reassuring grin, but could see she wasn't buying it. He felt like he was on a giant roller coaster ride; amazement, fear, and most of all the thrill of discovery and adventure, coursed through his veins. When Jessica and Mrs. Philpott had first told him the story about the dreams, the cat, and then Harry, he'd been skeptical. Writing science fiction was one thing--living it was another. A brief demonstration on the computer by the cat had rid him of all doubts. He couldn't wait to find out what it all meant and see what incredible thing would happen next. But he knew his wife, and he could see Jessica was struggling. Part of it for her probably had to do with Samantha's recent illness and her fears for their child. However, he also knew that Jessica saw the world in a different way than he did. In her world, there was a very definite line between what was real and unreal. She enjoyed reading his books, but she classed them as straight science fiction or fantasy--things that could never happen in the real world.

  His world consisted of possibilities. Anything could happen, and he just hoped to be around for the more outstanding occurrences. Jessica gave him the structure and boundaries in his life to let his imagination roam free and then have a place to come home to for grounding. He gave her the key to the door on her own imagination, and he felt they had both grown as a result of their individual personality traits affecting each other. The current situation, however, would be too big a leap for Jessica to make comfortably. She was going to need a lot of support.

  Jess
ica stood up abruptly and said, "Mrs. Philpott, thanks for your hospitality, but I think we need to go home now."

  "But, dear--" began Mrs. Philpott.

  John interjected, "Perhaps Jess is right, Mrs. Philpott. Sam, why don't you go find Harry?"

  Once Sam had left the room, he continued. "I think we all need time to absorb what we've learned today. Why don't we plan to meet at our house tomorrow morning, Mrs. Philpott?" He watched as Jessica relaxed a bit, visibly relieved.

  "I'll just take these dishes into the kitchen, Mrs. Philpott," Jessica said, leaving the room.

  "John, what's going on?" asked the older woman, perplexed.

  "She needs some time. This has all been a bit much for a mother still worried over the illness of a daughter. Give her a chance to sleep on it and we'll start again tomorrow," John said.

  "All right," Mrs. Philpott said. "But, John, we need to sort all this out very soon. My instincts--and my cat--are telling me we don't have much time left to prepare."

  "Prepare? For what?"

  Mrs. Philpott paused, realizing that John had not come to the same conclusions as she had, and knew that the next conversation could be difficult. "Perhaps you're right, John," she said. "Let's just wait and talk it all over tomorrow, okay? How about 10:30 in the morning, your house?"

  "That sounds good," John said hesitantly, puzzled by her comments. As he gathered up Sam in his arms and escorted Jessica and the dog to the car, he wondered at the ominous tone in Mrs. Philpott's words. What on earth could they have to prepare for?

  New York City, New York

  Nathan strummed quietly on his guitar, humming to himself. Alexandra was passed out on the bed while he sat on the floor, cross-legged, unable to sleep. Overtired, he thought resignedly, and felt his fingers stumble across a complicated passage.