Storm Dreams (The Cycle of Somnium Book 1)

by Jeb R. Sherrill

  He looked indignant. “Of course I can work on her. I’ll make her even better. I still know things they don’t. I’ll always know things they don’t.”

  Given his recent realization about the Everdream knowledge, Cassidy believed that. No telling how much had been pumped into Karl to make him the dream engineer of Graf Zeppelin.

  “Those guns look like they can really spit out the lead,” Jayce said, running his hand along the barrel of one of the new Spandaus.

  Banner regarded the fighter with distant fascination. His love was the Nubigena, but Cassidy could tell the captain was impressed with the Fokker by way he kept cocking his head as he eyed the smooth fuselage. “I guess Karl better put a new mooring on her,” Banner said.

  Cassidy shook his head. “With your permission, Captain, I’d like to try landing and taking off up top.”

  Banner narrowed his eyes. “Land on my baby?” He ran his eyes over the Zeppelin from stem to stern as if trying to imagine what that would do.

  “I’ve heard they launch off large ships now. Why not the Nubigena?” Cassidy asked.

  Banner gave a sceptical look and glanced at Karl.

  Karl shrugged. “Landing would be very hard, but perhaps. I’ll get materials here, but it’ll have to be done in the Twilight.”

  Banner nodded. “Do it. Later we can put two or three more down below again, like we used to.”

  “What will you call her,” Jayce asked, as he examined the German decorations. “Can’t stick with the old crosses.”

  Cassidy shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” He turned back to Banner. “Did we already get supplies?”

  “Ha,” Banner said. “Franz and Karl saw the sights. Jayce and I got wine, liquor, game, sausage and a bunch of other things I can’t pronounce. We also appropriated more munitions than we can ever use.” Banner gave a dismissive gesture. “For the next few weeks anyway. See you in the air,” he said with a quick salute and everyone boarded except Cassidy, who mounted his new Fokker.

  The magnetos brought it to life with a single crank. He lifted off ahead of the Zeppelin, eager to touch the storm clouds, which edged towards the brink of moving on. He banked into a steep climb.

  The storm accepted him again. He slipped into it like an electric mantle and felt where the denser mass of energy had moved to. On instinct, he flew towards it, skimming once again the violent currents. He felt something else, too. A soft place. A field in the rolling clouds where they created a rippling vortex.

  He neared the place and felt it throb and pulse. Green light exploded from its centre and radiated out in crackling waves. The smell of ozone increased.

  Behind him, the Nubigena tore through the outer shell of a dark cumulous cloud. The ship appeared as if it had been a part of the cloud, shed its skin and left it behind to dissolve into the rest of the storm matter.

  Cassidy banked and slowed so that he flew above the Zeppelin now. He knew where it was heading. He’d found the gate first. The round nose struck the wall of green light and branches of electric current ran along the length of ship and up to him so that it forked and arced over the controls and wings and down the tail.

  Together the Nubigena and the Fokker VII gated into the Twilight. The clouds shifted from black to light purple. Cassidy half expected to find the Armada on the other side, but Banner continued to elude them with whatever sense or luck he possessed. Cassidy thought of The Dutchman. Banner hadn’t mentioned him yet, but surely knew he’d been betrayed. Was he just going to let the affront slide?

  Cassidy scanned the skies for signs of fighters or airships. Perhaps he should do this more often. Fly scout when they gated and while they flew through uncertain territory. Cassidy took it upon himself to make his way out in front of the ship, then back and to the sides in an escort pattern.

  A line floated above the horizon of clouds. He throttled forwards and flew over it. The line turned out to be a disc at least a few miles in diameter. It was solid water, a floating ocean with no earth mass to support it. He flew beneath, and, as he’d suspected, the water hovered without trench or basin. Reverse waves licked downward, rolling down and then up.

  Cassidy flew back above the surface and came in close enough to see a platform floating on the water. A giant sheet of rusted metal with a variety of small buildings dotting its surface.

  The Nubigena landed. There was no ground crew there to tether the ship, so Jayce and Franz leapt to the ground and tied it off.

  Cassidy landed beside the Zeppelin. “Where’s this?” he asked, as Banner exited the gondola.

  “The Water,” Banner said, holding his arms apart as if referring to the entire expanse of drifting ocean. “What else would they call it?”

  “It’s safe?” Cassidy asked.

  Banner shrugged. “Safe to the extent that no one is here. As far as I know, it’s been abandoned for years, but it’s great for repairs.”

  Brewster hadn’t seen the new Fokker yet, so came down for a look. He examined it for several minutes, then nodded. “It’s a hell of a fighter.”

  “Doesn’t anyone else get upset that I’m the only one who flies anymore?”

  Brewster grinned. “We all had our turn,” the Englishman said. “They’d all rather be in the ship with Banner than out going one on one with the Armada.”

  “I can’t imagine not wanting to fly,” said Cassidy. “Ever.”

  Brewster shrugged. “Guess it depends on how we’re dreamed.”

  “I met him,” Cassidy said. He folded his arms and stared at the fighter. “I know who he is now.”

  Brewster cocked his head. “Met him, Old Boy?”

  Cassidy took a deep breath. He laid a hand against the Fokker's body and leaned against the frame. “I ran into Richthofen at the airbase. I finally know why he looked at me the way he did the first time we met.” He gave Brewster a short version of the meeting.

  Brewster sucked in on the tepid Twilight air. He leaned against the Fokker as well and seemed to lose himself in the paint design. “My God,” he finally said. “No wonder you can fly the way you do. Probably based you on everything he thought a Yank could do and everything his brother could do, and everything he can do. Also explains why you can shoot like that.”

  Cassidy gave a slow nod. “I feel like I should have known. Every time I looked at him, I should have guessed.”

  “Does it make you feel any different? I don’t even have inkling about mine. Is it like meeting…God?”

  Cassidy turned around, leaned back against his new plane and looked out at the soft lavender clouds hovering over the gentle waves. “For a minute. I mean, I felt connected to something. Almost real.” He sighed. “Don’t know. It all just made sense, there in the storm. Now I’m back to thinking, what was I really? I mean, Richthofen must have had a thousand dreams in his life and I’m just a terror that haunted him since the war began. In the end, I’m just a random splinter of someone I barely know.”

  Brewster wet his lips. “You could drive a bloke mad with all that thinking, you know?” He shook his head, turned around and stared out at the same clouds. “I mean, you’ve got to stop asking. Live life. If I got caught up thinking through all that, they’d have to scrape me off the floor of the asylum.”

  “I guess I just wanted to be the result of someone’s purposeful creation. Instead, I’m a collection of random thoughts and fears.”

  Brewster laughed and slapped Cassidy on the arm. “Come on, mate,” he said. “You’ve got to be your own man. Bring out your personal meaning. Besides, for all you know, people from the real world are just the dreams of some distant creatures they can’t even conceive of.”

  Cassidy grinned. “I thought you weren’t into philosophy?”

  Brewster smirked. “I think about it. I just don’t dwell on it.”

  “Well, I also know things Richthofen can’t know,” Cassidy added. “The Everdream must have put more in.”

  “Next, you’ll be rattling off things about the Akashic Library.”
/>   “What’s that?”

  Brewster shrugged. “Haven’t the foggiest, but the term is in my head somewhere.”

  Cassidy tried to smile, but couldn’t. He pulled away from his plane and walked to the edge of the metal platform. Brewster stayed back at the fighter. On land, this might have been a beach, but here, the water lapped over the sharp edge and slipped back off, into the ocean, if one could call it that.

  Cassidy wondered if he could swim. What would happen if he dived in? Would he drown? Would he come out the bottom and keep falling forever? Was there anything below the Twilight, or was it nothing but endless clouds?

  He knelt down. Was there any life in the water, or was the little floating ocean completely dead and abandoned?

  Chapter 22

  Cassidy retired to his quarters while Karl worked on the Nubigena and the new Fokker. Apparently, a dangling arm would be fixed to the bottom of the plane, which would lay flat against the fuselage, but he could release it when landing. Karl’s theory went that the arm would grab a cable stretching across the landing surface he was building on the Zeppelin’s roof. Now if only he could learn to land and take off with so little distance. But if Banner could do the impossible with the Zeppelin, perhaps he could do the same with a plane.

  ***

  Cassidy’s quarters looked the same way he’d left them, but a sensation rushed over him that he hadn’t felt before. Something akin to familiarity, but not. Cassidy closed the door and lay down on his bed. He felt the rush of sensation again as he looked around the room. The dress uniform Brewster had given him hung in the corner. He’d already put his holster on the chair beside his bed and his jacket rested next to it. These things had been done without thinking. Home, Cassidy thought. Was he forming new habits?

  He stretched his legs, then decided to pry his boots off and enjoy the first moment he’d spent of true relaxation since…since whenever the last time had been. He had trouble remembering that. Cassidy drifted into sleep.

  The clouds parted as he flew with the other fighters of his squadron. The Jagdstaffel, Richthofen’s elite squadron, engaged them in a fury. They exchanged rounds, rolled and banked. Fighters exploded and dove for the ground.

  Out of the distance a red fighter came and he flew towards it. Cassidy gripped the gun levers tight and sighted for the Baron’s tri-plane as it approached. The scene was so specific now. Practiced. Cassidy knew every moment of it and it felt like déjà vu cascading over him as he engaged Richthofen.

  The Baron dove. He banked. The Baron rolled. Cassidy dove. The red tri-plane flew through his sight, but the guns didn’t fire. He looked down and realised he hadn’t triggered them.

  Richthofen looked at him from his plane and knew. Knew he should be dead. Knew something was different. And then the other fighters were gone and only their two planes were left.

  Cassidy’s Sopwith.

  The Baron’s Fokker.

  They held their fire and matched speeds. The fighters descended like falcons coming to perch and landed at the base of the many-spired castle. Richthofen edged out of his fighter and cocked his head as Cassidy leapt down from his. “Do I know you?” the Baron asked.

  Cassidy nodded. “You know me.”

  “You are here to kill me,” the Baron said. He looked lost. Confused. Glanced around as if he stood in an alien world. “I feel I’ve dreamed this before.”

  Cassidy nodded. “I know. And I’ve always wanted to ask,” he said, motioning up at the medieval structure, “is this your family castle?”

  Richthofen stared up at the structure as if trying to take it in. This must be how most dreamers were in their own dreams. Strange, how, for once, Cassidy was the natural entity, not the alien. Could one wake in their own dream? Was this still Richthofen’s dream, or his own dream now? Did they share this dream? Was this just the version of his dreamer that Cassidy’s mind created?

  The Baron shook his head. “Family castle? I don’t think so. I’m not sure. When I was a child, perhaps…” They walked to the front gate, which raised and they entered.

  “Did you used to visit here?” Cassidy asked, as the gothic interior stretched above them.

  “Perhaps,” Richthofen said. “My family—” He fell to his knees and gripped his head. Screamed as the blood gushed from a wound that opened the side of his skull. “I can’t,” he howled, as much to himself as to Cassidy. “I can’t do it anymore. Something’s wrong.”

  The dream faded. Cassidy groaned and sat up. His skull hammered. He made his way down to the head and splashed water on his face. A bottle of aspirin stood near. The top was screwed on too tight. His vision blurred. He shattered the bottle. Shovelled pills into his mouth and swallowed hard.

  “Cassidy?”

  Cassidy looked up. Banner stood outside the door. Cassidy slumped back against the wall and buried his face in his hands. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” Banner asked, stooping down. “Your name’s John. I was going to tell you. I didn’t have a chance yet.”

  Cassidy took his hand away from his face. “Richthofen. Why didn’t you tell me about Richthofen?”

  Banner’s brow furrowed. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

  Cassidy laughed. His head hurt so bad, he couldn’t help it. “Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?”

  Banner sat beside him and stared at the floor. “Have you told anyone?”

  “Does it matter?” Cassidy asked. He was crying now. His head felt as if it were being ripped to pieces.

  Banner narrowed his eyes. He folded his hands and laid his head back against the wall. “I used to tell everyone. They always left the ship to go on some foolish pilgrimage to find their dreamer.” He gave a deep sigh. “And they’d get caught or killed. Many just dissolved because their dreamer was in the real world, somewhere outside a storm. They didn’t care, just ran out into the wasteland and faded to nothing.”

  Cassidy tore at his hair as if trying to rip the pain out. He pulled himself to his feet, stepped over Banner and stumbled down the hallway.

  “Cassidy,” Banner called. “It wouldn’t have helped. It would have just confused you.”

  The ship quaked. Banner leapt to Cassidy’s side, trying to prop him up. “We’re under attack,” Banner said. “Dammit, I can’t believe they found us this soon.”

  Through the windows, Cassidy saw Armada airships cresting the ocean’s horizon. His head cleared as adrenaline pushed the pain away further than aspirin ever could. He turned to the captain. “Drag the plate over the edge and cut the line,” he said, and made for the hatch.

  Banner blinked several times. “What the devil for?”

  “Just do it.”

  The captain nodded and ran for the helm.

  Cassidy made his way outside as bullets rattled off the metal platform. The Fokker still rested where he’d left it, though it appeared Karl had already done something to the underbelly. A quick run and a leap and he was in the cockpit, revving the magneto. He noticed an extra lever Karl must have installed, but he’d have to play with it later.

  The engine engaged and he throttled forwards. Two airships were in sight, but dark shadows beneath the ocean brought a sick dread to his stomach. A gentle pull on the stick and the Fokker VII caught air, dodging rounds as it picked up speed. Airships instead of fighters seemed odd. Perhaps this was a change in tactic, or they were out of real planes. Good, Cassidy thought. He might have an advantage against dreamships.

  The Nubigena lifted into the air as Cassidy pushed his Fokker above the Armada crafts. The Zeppelin’s mooring lines remained attached to the platform and dragged it across the ocean.

  Both airships ignored Cassidy and made for the Nubigena instead. They probably assumed he was running, but Cassidy throttled down, pulled a hairpin turn and dove at the first airship, Spandaus blazing. The two levers worked as one on this Fokker, allowing him to fire both and still control the plane without pinning the stick between his knees.
<
br />   Cassidy emptied enough bursts into the football shaped air bladder to rupture the cell. The gondola splashed into the water, covered by the mass of purple fabric. The other airship had noticed him and broke off its attack on the Nubigena. Cassidy smiled. Instead of engaging, he continued his descent below the rim of the ocean disc.

  As he feared, another airship and two real fighters lay beneath, out of view. They throttled towards him, bringing a grin to his face. The second airship from above the ocean made its way below as well and all four opened fire.

  Cassidy continued his plunge until the enemies above were forced to angle down for attack, then pulled the Fokker out of its dive. His new fighter responded better than anything he’d ever flown. The two fighters dealt with the manoeuvre easily, but the airships couldn’t compensate. By the time he’d reached them again, the fighters were on his tail, blazing away, with the two airships only now making their way behind him.

  The dark shadow of the square platform made its way across the transparent ocean above. The Nubigena would soon clear the edge. Cassidy made for where the Zeppelin would go. He adjusted his speed. Rolled and pitched to keep the Armada bullets out of his hide.

  He glanced behind. They were all there, firing away in perfect, predictable formation. The grey nose of the Nubigena slipped over the edge of the blue disc of water above. It looked like a cloud coming out from behind the moon. Cassidy rolled to bring himself beneath the ship and nudged the stick forwards a hair. Full throttle. The Fokker cleared the water first, ahead of the Nubigena. He pulled hard on the stick and doubled back to the ship.

  As he flew back along the Zeppelin’s tail, the metal platform crested the water and tipped downward. The Nubigena released the line. Both Armada airships struck the plate, full on as it slid over the edge. The lead fighter slammed into it a moment later, ringing the solid metal like a bell. The second fighter rolled at the last moment and peeled out the far side. Cassidy flew after him as the Nubigena cleared the ocean. He couldn’t believe three pilots had fallen for the ploy. He’d only hoped for two.