by Helen Harper
‘I’ve been told otherwise.’
‘By whom? Your boyfriend? Just because he dreams of being the overlord doesn’t mean that one already exists.’
She’s knows I was referring to Dante and she’s not wrong about him. He’s desperate to take control of the Department and, by default, the Dreamlands and the slumbering, unconscious minds of the world. If he’s not the one blowing up people, perhaps he’s the lesser of two evils. The lust I still feel for him would like things to be that way; unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want.
‘So you’re the person I should be talking to?’ I ask.
She smirks. ‘We don’t do much talking. We’re all about action.’
I nod. ‘Yeah. I’ve seen evidence of that action in Zurich. Congratulations on killing so many people. You must feel incredibly proud of yourself.’
Her mouth twists into a snarl. The man intervenes. He’s slightly younger than her. His dark suit seems entirely out of place for the Dreamlands although it would be appropriate for someone in the Department. ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ he says. I don’t know whether he’s speaking to me or to her. He points upwards at the building. ‘Follow me.’
I lick my lips and, even though it rankles, do as he says. The woman takes up the rear, as if she’s ready to stop me from fleeing. I’m here of my own volition – she needs to chill out.
Inside, there’s an unpleasant, musty smell similar to old, boiled cabbage. I wrinkle my nose and look around. ‘I can see why the Mayor broke away from you lot,’ I sniff. ‘This place is a dump.’
The man tenses but doesn’t rise to the bait. ‘We take what we’re given,’ he says calmly. ‘After all, the only person with the ability to change things permanently is you.’
Yeah, yeah. I roll up my sleeves. ‘Let’s get down to it then. What do you want?’
He smirks. ‘Not here.’ He points towards a door.
I look from him to the woman and back again, then shrug and head towards it. Before I reach it, the door swings open to reveal a single figure. I immediately recognise him as one of the military-esque bastards in Zurich. He’s wearing the same clothing. Close up, I can see how pale his skin is. With his dark hair and bloodless lips, I could almost take him for a vampire.
‘I’m impressed,’ he says. ‘I didn’t think you’d be able to fall asleep so quickly.’
‘I take sleeping pills,’ I lie. ‘It’s the only way I can manage it.’ If he believes my sleep is chemically induced, he won’t think I can disapparate whenever I want to. Frankly, I need every possible advantage I can get. He smirks as if he expected nothing less. Given that he’s also here – and therefore asleep – he may well use his own dodgy methods for going under but I’m not going to bank on it.
The woman and man from outside join him so that all three are facing me in a row as if I’m at the worst kind of job interview. ‘You know who I am,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you tell me who you are?’
They seem amused. The man raises an eyebrow at my apparent naivety. ‘Why don’t you call us Larry, Curly and Moe?’
I glance from one to the other. Yeah, it kind of fits. ‘I always thought the Department members were stooges,’ I comment lightly.
There’s a brief flash of anger from Moe; she’s definitely the loose cannon here. That could either be very helpful or very dangerous.
‘Funny,’ Curly says. He’s no longer smiling. He points at a rickety wooden chair next to a desk. ‘Why don’t you sit down, Ms Lydon?’
I’m tempted to argue for the sake of it but I choose the safer option and do as he asks. The chair is even more uncomfortable than it looks. As I sit, I scan the room. It’s very nondescript. On the desk, however, there are some filing cards with names on them. I’ve seen something similar before: the Mayor had similar ones on which he catalogued and tracked non-Travellers so that their subconscious minds could be located within the Bubble, the never-ending doors which open onto every individual’s dreams. I shift the chair so I can get a better look, propping my feet up on the desk to mask my curiosity.
‘Make yourself at home, why don’t you?’ Moe sneers.
I cross my arms. ‘If you don’t want me here, just say the word.’ This time she doesn’t answer. That’s what I thought. I lean forward as I catch sight of a familiar name on one of the upturned cards. It takes all my self-control to keep my face schooled into a mask when I see it.
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Why plant a bomb? Why hurt innocent people?’
Curly stares at me. ‘I should have thought the answer to that was obvious. We are tired of this game of cat and mouse. It’s important that you realise that you can run and hide but sooner or later we will find you. It’s up to you how many people get hurt before that happens.’
My body stiffens. ‘And for what? So you can use me to plant thoughts into a few people’s heads? I can’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to.’
He laughs coldly. ‘You have no idea of the extent of your abilities.’
‘And you do?’
‘You’re hardly the first dreamweaver.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I am, however, the only one there is now.’ I unfold my arms. ‘What would happen if I decided to kill myself?’
‘Suicide?’ he scoffs.
I shrug. ‘It might be a better option than letting you use me for the rest of my life.’
He calls my bluff. ‘Do it. There’ll be another dreamweaver along eventually.’
I lean forward. ‘How many have there been in your lifetime?’ I ask, knowing full well that I’ve been the only one. ‘And how long did it take you to work out who I was?’ I inquire. ‘How many years?’
Moe’s eyes narrow; obviously I’ve hit a nerve. They are far more desperate not to lose me than they’re letting on.
‘Once you’re dead,’ Larry butts in, oblivious to Moe’s tension, ‘what’s to stop us from taking revenge by getting rid of everyone who knows what you are? Your mother. Your friends.’ His lip curls. ‘Your cat.’
I’m prepared to put up with a lot of things but threatening Chairman Meow is not one of them. ‘So far you’re not endearing me to your cause.’ I move my legs, causing half of the filing cards to fall off the table and onto the floor, then I stand up. ‘I think we’re done here.’
‘Sit down, Ms Lydon.’
‘Or what?’
A muscle twitches in Curly’s cheek. ‘Please. Sit down.’ He throws an irritated look at Larry. ‘We’re not here to threaten you. It doesn’t have to be like this. Tell us where you are and all this will end.’
‘If I tell you where I am, I think all this will just be the beginning.’ I bend down and pick up the fallen cards, turning them over idly until I find the one I need. I quickly memorise the coordinates as Moe reaches forward, takes them from me and tucks them out of sight. I sit down again and raise an eyebrow. ‘Let’s say I was to come to you. What exactly would you want from me?’
Larry’s hands twitch; I note the action and smile. Curly smiles back and speaks. ‘Oh, it wouldn’t be overly onerous. Once a night, we’ll ask you to visit certain dreams and control certain aspects.’
‘Like what? Give me an example.’
He purses his mouth. ‘Have you been the watching news recently?’
‘I’ve been busy.’
‘Indeed. Well, there’s a large pharmaceutical company that’s planning to merge with a Chinese outfit. It’s going to cost thousands of jobs. All the manufacture and research will move out of Europe and our people will suffer as a result. We might ask you to visit the CEO and persuade him it’s the wrong course of action.’ He watches me carefully. ‘No one gets hurt in this scenario and you save thousands of families from ending up on the poverty line.’
I tilt my head. ‘Let me guess. A Department member is a significant shareholder of a rival firm and they’re worried about their bottom line.’
He doesn’t blink. ‘Does it matter?’
‘I suppose not,’ I say quietly.
‘We’ll look after you,
Zoe. We’ll give you a nice house. We’ll pay you a very generous wage. We’ll ask you to travel a fair amount but daytimes will be yours. The people who matter to you will be safe. This is win-win for you.’
‘Once a night is too much. Once a month.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Moe bursts out.
Curly taps the corner of his mouth. ‘You want to negotiate? We can negotiate. Every other night.’
I shake my head. ‘No deal.’ I act like I’m considering the proposal carefully. ‘Once a fortnight.’
Larry rolls his eyes. Curly, however, is still calm. ‘Twice a week. That’s my final offer.’
That doesn’t sound so bad. ‘Fine.’ I meet his eyes. ‘I won’t do anything violent. I won’t cause violent dreams and I won’t plant suggestions of violence.’
‘We can work with that.’
I straighten up. ‘And I don’t ever want to see Dante again.’
He smiles. ‘I’m sure that can be arranged. Our … relationship with him has come to an end anyway.’
Good to know. I nod. ‘There is one big problem you’ve not thought of though,’ I add.
‘Yes?’
Is he completely stupid? ‘I’m wanted on charges of terrorism.’
‘You’re only a person of interest. I told you, we are powerful people. We can make all that disappear.’
I inject an appropriate amount of disbelief into my words. ‘After the Swiss police headquarters were blown up?’
‘I promise you that no one was seriously hurt. It looked a lot more impressive than it really was.’
I wonder if he’s telling the truth – and if the only reason no one is in a coffin is because the Department didn’t have time to make the detonation more powerful. ‘I’m not sure I trust you. And, frankly, it seems more likely that the police will find me before I can find you.’
‘We can misdirect them.’ He sounds very sure of himself. ‘Just tell us where you are.’
‘No.’ I’m adamant. ‘Not yet. I want forty-eight hours to think about it.’
‘Twenty-four,’ he shoots back.
That’s better than I’d hoped for but I still make myself look unhappy. ‘Make it thirty-two. It’ll be easier for all of us to meet here again if it’s night time.’
He adjusts his watch. ‘So you will give us your answer at 11pm on Wednesday.’ It’s a statement, not a question, but I nod in agreement anyway. From the way he’s holding himself, he’s slightly more relaxed. He’s fully expecting me to agree to all of our negotiated terms.
‘The police,’ I remind him.
He looks at Moe. She seems more reluctant but she still offers an almost imperceptible nod. ‘We will call them off. But,’ she adds in hissed warning, ‘only temporarily. Fail to meet us and all bets are off.’
Yeah, yeah.
She’s not done yet. ‘And don’t do anything stupid like wander around a shopping mall or try to skip the country. I can ensure that the police won’t actively look for you but if you happen to appear in front of them, it will be a different matter.’
I act meekly now. ‘Okay.’
Curly holds out his hand for me to shake. The last thing I want to do is touch him, even if it’s only a dream facsimile of him. I swallow my nausea and take his hand. His grip is firm; this is someone who’s used to getting what he wants. ‘Until Wednesday,’ he says.
‘I can’t wait.’
Chapter Four
Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.
May Sarton
For a moment when I wake up, I have no earthly idea where I am. It’s dark and there’s a strange smell. The Chairman is still on my chest, his green eyes staring into mine. Rawlins, Adam and my mother are in the other corner, talking in hushed voices, no doubt trying to avoid waking me up before it’s time. I sigh. It’s a sad world when my dreams are more sane than my waking hours.
I gently push the Chairman off and sit up. The three of them bolt upright and gaze at me.
‘Well?’ Rawlins demands.
‘I’ve bought us some time. It’s the best I could do.’
‘You saw the Department?’
‘Three of them.’ I quickly outline what happened.
My mother is aghast. ‘You’re going to work for them? But they’re murderers!’
‘Of course I’m not going to work for them. Whatever deal we’ve made would only last until they have me,’ I look round, ‘us under lock and key. They can’t be trusted. Even if they could be, I’d never agree to do their dirty work for them. As far as I’m concerned, anyone who wants to manipulate someone else’s free will is a traitorous bastard.’
Rawlins breathes out. ‘Good. That’s good.’
‘Yep.’
‘So what are we going to do now?’
‘We’re going to stay here, hope they do what they said and keep the police at bay.’ I grimace. ‘And I’m going back under to manipulate someone else’s free will.’
For a moment no one speaks, then the Chairman head-butts my leg and meows. Adam gives me a crooked smile. ‘The Department has painted you into a corner. You have to do what’s necessary.’
Rawlins agrees. ‘This isn’t about money or power or jockeying for position. For us it could mean the difference between life and death.’
I appreciate the support but the situation still doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like I’m doing for my own gain what I won’t do for the Department; to say I feel hypocritical is an understatement. But I’m not going to abuse this power, I tell myself. Not ever.
‘Do you think,’ my mother says, ‘that you could travel to Henry’s wife’s dreams? Tell her to leave him?’
I stare at her in horror. She grins at me. ‘Your emotions are written all over your face, darling. You’re worried about whether you’re doing the right thing or not. You know there’s no choice. There are exceptions to every rule but you’re not going to manipulate someone unnecessarily.’
I really hope she’s right.
‘Did you see Dante?’ Adam asks. He doesn’t quite catch my eye as he speaks. Rawlins, however, flashes him a narrow-eyed look.
‘No.’ I run a hand through my hair. ‘He’s going to catch up with me soon though. What happened today was too public and he’s not stupid. He knows I’ll be doing what I can to find a way out of this mess.’
‘Can you keep yourself safe from him?’
I force a smile. ‘I guess we’ll soon find out.’
***
It takes me far longer to fall asleep a second time than it should. That’s probably not a bad thing because I don’t want to run into the stooges for a second time. It’s irritating, however, to find myself back in the Dreamlands’ forest. I would rather be elsewhere. I think about what Curly said – that I have no clue about the extent of my abilities. He may well be right but for now I’d settle for being able to apparate where I want to. One day, perhaps.
At least this time I have a better idea of which way to go. I tramp through the trees in roughly the same direction as last time but I veer slightly to the left. It’s not the Department I want this time, it’s the Bubble, the gateway to the millions of doors that lead into the unconscious minds of the slumbering world. I hope I can gain access to it without being seen. If luck is on my side, there won’t be anyone guarding the entrance. If there is – well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I emerge in the town at a slightly different spot. I’m also considerably more wary. I skulk round the side streets, keeping well away from the central plaza. I consider clambering onto the roofs so I have a better chance of seeing who is hiding up there but that would also give the Department a better chance of spotting me. I keep to a steady jog instead, hugging the buildings, staying in the shadows as much as possible and hoping for the best.
Given what I’ve already experienced of this place, I’m expecting the layout to be similar to my own Dreamlands town. When I round the last corner and see the single door standing on its own, I
’m both relieved and dismayed. I’ve found the Bubble without any difficulty and quickly enough for no one to have seen my approach. I’m glad I’ve timed this properly – but nothing is ever perfect. Smack bang in front of the door are two women. They’ve obviously not paused for a chat; they’re standing to attention, their eyes darting in every direction. I press my back against the wall to stay hidden. What’s the best way to get around them?
I shuffle up, getting as close as I can. The rough-hewn walls behind me are warm to the touch, as if they’ve been baked in the sun. I shimmy into an alcove. All I need is a diversion, something to distract them from the Bubble’s entrance. I chew on my bottom lip. If I can just find…
My thoughts are interrupted by the dark figure that appears abruptly in front of me. ‘Hello, Zoe.’
I let out a tiny squeak of dismay. Dante frowns and leans in, placing one firm hand over my mouth. The hot length of his body presses against mine and he gazes at me in warning. ‘You should be quiet. They’ll hear you.’
My knee jerks almost involuntarily. Incapacitating him by slamming it into his groin would be worth getting spotted by the Department but he’s already prepared for it. He pushes against me until I’m virtually immobile. My eyes spit hatred towards him but he tuts.
‘Stop it,’ he says, in such a mild tone that I could be doing nothing more than flicking paper at him. ‘I understand you’re angry with me but this isn’t the time or the place.’ He tilts his head until his lips are close to my ear. ‘I’ll let you take your best shot later.’
If only. I clench my teeth together so tightly that they hurt and force myself to relax. Dante’s silver eyes meet mine and he smiles. ‘Good girl.’ He removes his hand.
‘Fuck off.’
He shakes his head. ‘Such language. I didn’t think you were so crude.’
‘Funnily enough,’ I hiss, ‘seeing you brings out the worst in me. What are you doing here?’
The smile still playing around the corner of his lips irritates me beyond belief – though not as much as the heady, masculine scent emanating from his smooth, tanned skin. ‘I should have thought that was obvious,’ he murmurs. ‘I’m here for you.’