Dreamer se-2

by Steven Harper

  Or would it be the other way around?

  Ara got up to pace the hardwood floors of her bedroom. There had to be a relationship. The chaos. Depression rates. Sejal. It was frustrating. A piece of this was missing, and Ara was sure if she had it, she would know what was going on. And the longer it remained a mystery, the more difficult everything would become. The Dream was getting more and more dangerous by the minute. If this kept up, communication between planets would die, or at least be dealt a severe blow. Governments, corporations, law enforcement agencies, and millions of individuals depended on the Dream. Messages and information that had once been instantaneous would take weeks or months if they were relegated to slipspace courier.

  “Bruna,” she said, “access economic and market news databases. Analyze overall trends in trading over the last three months and compare with previous decade. Answer question: are overall market values up, down, or steady? Answer question: is inflation up, down, or steady? Answer question: is selling of stock up, down, or steady?”

  “Please specify governments or planets.”

  “All governments and planets in database.”

  “Working.” Pause. “Analysis complete. Question: are market values overall up, down, or steady? Answer: markets in all reporting governments are down. Question: is inflation up, down, or steady? Answer: inflation in all reporting governments is up. Question: is selling of stock up, down, or steady? Answer: selling of stock in all reporting governments is up.”

  Ara nodded grimly. She was no economist and only had a vague idea of how buying, selling, and investing worked. However, it was easy to see that the markets were already showing a strain. Some investors and companies were getting worried enough to send early ripples through the economies of several interplanetary governments.

  Ara wandered over to a low table with a wooden incence holder on it and lit a stick. Sweet, lightly-scented smoke floated about the room. At one time, governments and companies had functioned amazingly well with slow communication. On early Earth, it had taken weeks or even months for messages to cross the ocean, yet several countries had ruled colonies thousands of miles away. Modern governments and corporations, however, were another matter entirely. They had been created with and were maintained by instant communication. Rulers and executive officers were used to making hands-on decisions for branches and worlds that lay months away by slipship. All that would disappear if the Dream were disrupted. Even the small delays caused by the current situation were causing markets to dip.

  The coal at the tip of the incense stick glowed red, and gray smoke continued to trickle upward like a tiny reverse waterfall. Other thoughts Ara had been putting off crowded her mind, now that she knew Melthine was safe.

  Thoughts about war.

  The Empress had said a war was brewing between the Unity and the Confederaton, a war that would probably never happen if Ara killed Sejal. The Empress hadn’t said so, but Ara knew she was thinking it. Giving Sejal back to the Unity was not a possibility-that would cause more problems than it solved. Wouldn’t it be better just to kill Sejal? What if war broke out and Ben were killed? He would be dead because Ara couldn’t bring herself to raise a simple knife in his defense. The thought was unbearable.

  But it wasn’t Sejal’s fault he could do what he could do. He had done nothing wrong. And Ara had seen nothing to indicate that Sejal would abuse his power.

  Ara waved the incense stick through the air. Smoke trailed after it, leaving fuzzy gray streaks in the air. Unfortunately, the universe-and the Unity-didn’t care about intentions. The fact that Sejal existed was enough to start a war. Her decision came down to simple mathematics. The death of Sejal versus the death of thousands. The death of Sejal versus the death of Ben.

  People of our kind see what must be done, and we do it.

  A tear trickled down Ara’s cheek. Deep down, she had known there was only one answer. She had known it from the moment the Empress had spoken those dreadful words on that dreadful day.

  You are but the scalpel that does the bidding of the doctor.

  Slowly, as if hypnotized, Ara set the incense down and left the Dream Temple. She went to her study and lifted a small trapdoor cunningly concealed to look like part of the wooden floor. Beneath was the door to a safe. She let the lock scan her retina, fingerprints, and voice. The locks released with a firm thump. From the safe, Ara removed a snub-nosed pistol and checked the charge. Full.

  Ara knew how to use the pistol. All Children received at least basic instruction in energy weapons. When fired, this one disrupted electrochemical processes in nerve cells. At lower power, it stunned. At high power, it killed. Ara set the power as high as it would go. She put the pistol into her pocket and headed out the front door.

  People of our kind see what must be done, and we do it.

  Ara checked her ocular implant. It was still early morning of the day after the Post Script had landed and Kendi had taken Sejal down to the dormitory. If the pattern for new arrivals from poor backgrounds held true, Sejal had first gone shopping yesterday, probably with Kendi. Today, Sejal would register for classes and be given time to explore and settle in. Tomorrow would be his first day of formal instruction. Since it was still early, Sejal was doubtless in his room sleeping.

  The walk to the monastery students’ dormitory took half an hour. Ara knew she was walking to put off the inevitable, but she couldn’t bring herself to snag a gondola or take the monorail. The time passed as if in a dream. A few early-rising students saluted her as she passed them on the swaying walkways, but Ara barely noticed.

  In the dormitory foyer, she asked for and received directions to Sejal’s room. As she walked the hallway, Ara put her hand on the pistol in her pocket. No doubt there would be a public outcry. No doubt Ara would be ostracized despite interference from the Empress. At the Imperial Majesty’s insistence, Ara might retain her position as Mother Adept, but that wouldn’t stop the whispers and pointed fingers.

  At least the whisperers would be alive to point.

  Ara found herself at Sejal’s door. Blood pounded in her ears and her hand shook as she raised her fist to knock.

  The door swung open at her touch. It hadn’t been locked, or even closed all the way. Puzzled, Ara stepped into the room. No one was inside.

  The built-up tension vanished so quickly, it left Ara weak and shaky. She sat down on the unmade bed. The place was still austere and spartan, with nothing to indicate the personality of the room’s inhabitant. Not surprising. Sejal had come to the monastery with almost nothing, and he’d only been there for two days. Hardly enough time to accumulate more possessions than a few clothes. The bed hadn’t even been made up-the linens still sat neatly folded on the mattress. Odd.

  At that moment the significance of the door came to her. It hadn’t been just unlocked. It had been open a crack. Hard to believe someone who had grown up in a slum would leave his door unlocked, let alone standing open. Ara fumbled for a moment, trying to remember the name of the dormitory’s computer.

  “Baran,” she said, “where is Sejal Dasa?”

  “Sejal Dasa is in his quarters.”

  This was obviously not the case. Ara looked around. A scarlet glitter caught her eye. On Sejal’s desk in plain sight lay his ruby student’s ring. The ring carried a tracer which allowed the monastery computer system to track students and monks alike. Although it was common practice to remove the ring for privacy or other reasons, this didn’t seem to be the case. It felt wrong.

  Ara did a cursory search of Sejal’s room. No clothes hung in the closet. Maybe Kendi hadn’t taken him shopping yet after all, or maybe that’s where Sejal was now. No, the shops wouldn’t open for another hour at least and the bed had clearly not been slept in last night. Something else occurred to Ara, and she searched the room again, this time more thoroughly. She came up empty.

  Mother Adept Araceil Rymar sat heavily on Sejal’s bed. His flute was nowhere in the room. Ara’s hands went cold. No flute, no clothes, unmade bed,
a door standing open. It all pointed to one thing.

  Sejal Dasa was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  FROM SEJAL’S JOURNAL DAY 18, MONTH 11, COMMON YEAR 987

  I’m not on Bellerophon anymore. I’m on another ship now, a nicer one than the Post Script. I wasn’t even at the monastery two days before This is stupid. My thoughts are wandering all over the place. I don’t know what to think or do or anything. I’ll start at the beginning and maybe it’ll make more sense.

  Anyway. Kendi took me shopping. I’ve never had new clothes before. Most of my clothes were hand-me-downs from the neighborhood. The rest came from a secondhand store. But here, Kendi took me into real stores with real salespeople, helpful ones who didn’t try to brush us off.

  “There are a bunch of people who want to talk to you,” Kendi said as we finished up. “They want to run some tests on what you can do, and they want to do it this evening. Is that okay with you?”

  I nodded, still enjoying the feel of new clothes on my body. They still smelled new, and they were mine.

  We took a gondola back to the monastery. It’s like riding in a giant basket on a wire, except the basket is made of metal instead of wicker. Once we got there, we dropped off my stuff and Kendi took me to another building.

  Inside was a big room that reminded me of the gymnasium back at my old school, but with a polished floor and new yellow paint. A long table was set up near the far wall. Four humans and four Ched-Balaar were there, along with four other aliens. One looked like a caterpillar, one looked like a stuffed bear, one looked like a small elephant that had been hosed with red candle wax, and one looked like some kind of lizard. The humans were dressed in brown robes with gold disks around their necks.

  When Kendi and I reached the table, I remembered to put my fingertips against my forehead like I was supposed to, even though I was suddenly so nervous my teeth were almost chattering. What if they sent me back to the Unity?

  The oldest human in the group stepped up to the table, which was between me and him. He used a walking stick and had big purple ring on his hand. “Sejal Dasa? I’m Grandfather Adept Melthine. You can call me ‘Grandfather’ or ‘Grandfather Adept.’“

  He introduced the others, including the Ched-Balaar and the other aliens, and they all sat down. The smaller aliens had chairs on the tabletop, and the Ched-Balaar sat on the floor like giant dogs. Kendi and I took chairs on the other side of the table. I still wanted to puke.

  “Well, Sejal,” Grandfather Melthine began. “We want to know more about you. You have an unusual ability, and we’re fascinated.”

  He sounded friendly enough and he had a nice face. I was still a little wary, though. The others didn’t say anything.

  “We’d like to see what you can do,” Grandfather Melthine continued. “Why don’t you start by telling us?”

  I hesitated.

  “Go ahead, Sejal,” Kendi said. “It’s all right.”

  “I can make people do things,” I said nervously.

  “Like what?” Melthine asked. His voice was still gentle, not at all stern. I concentrated on him, blocking out the aliens in the room, and was able to relax a little bit.

  “I can freeze people in place,” I told him, “and they don’t remember what happened when I let them go. I can also make people want to do something so bad, they do it.”

  “Can you give an example?” Melthine said.

  “Well, I froze six Unity guard in place so we could get back on the Post Script. And another time I made a guard want to punch his partner so bad that he couldn’t help doing it.”

  “A powerful form of whispering,” murmured one of the other humans. “But without entering the Dream.”

  “I don’t do it directly,” I added. “I have to sort of… reach through another place. It might be the Dream, but I’m not sure.”

  Melthine’s hand was on his walking stick, even though he was sitting. “How does the freezing work, Sejal? What do you do?”

  I thought about it. “It’s like I can…see what they’re feeling. Well, not really see. I just sort of know. And then I reach through the weird place and make one of those feelings really strong. The feeling already has to be there. I can’t make new ones.”

  “Whispering,” the other human said again.

  “How do you ‘freeze’ people, as you call it?” Melthine said.

  “I shut their feelings down completely,” I said. “I looked it up once. It’s called apathy. You don’t have feelings, you don’t any reason to do anything. You don’t even care enough to remember what happened.”

  Melthine nodded. “You don’t possess people then? Put your mind into someone else’s body and take it for you own?”

  “No.”

  Everyone in the room gave a little sigh, like they were relieved or something. I didn’t understand it. Several of them looked at Kendi like like he had done something wrong. I didn’t understand that, either. Was Kendi in trouble?

  “Sejal,” Kendi said quietly. “Have you ever tried to possess someone completely?”

  “No.”

  “Can you, do you think?”

  I thought about it. “Probably.”

  The people at the table got all tense again.

  “Try it with me,” Kendi said.

  I looked at him. “Take over your body?”

  “Sure. It’s nothing new, Sejal. Silent do it all the time. Do that freeze thing, but push harder. You can’t hurt me. It’ll be all right.”

  So I did. Before any of the others said anything, I touched Kendi with my mind, like I did with that first jobber back with Jesse. Then I pushed.

  The world jumped to the right. I was sitting in a different place. I looked down at my hands. They were bigger and darker. I drew in a sharp breath. The noise sounded different in my head. I looked sideways and saw…myself. My eyes were shut and I was slumped sideways in my chair. I leaped up, knocking the chair over. My heart pounded, but the rhythm was wrong. I panicked.

  A hand landed on my shoulder and I yelped. It was reflex-I took that mind, too. I was seeing the room from two different points of view. There were two of me, but only one, at the same time.

  The other people-and aliens-in the room scrambled to their feet. The sudden movement scared me again, and then I had three, four, five, and six people. Then seven and eight and nine. My eyes looked in a dozen different directions all at once. I had two legs-no, four legs-no, a dozen. My hearts were thumping so hard they hurt. In panic, I saw my body, still slumped in the chair. I wanted to be back inside it. I wanted to be me again. I lunged for myself.

  And then I was there. I opened my eyes and looked down at my hands. My hands. My arms. My body.

  I looked up, shaking. The room was dead silent. Everyone was looking at me. Then a babble broke out as everyone started talking at the same time. One of the humans, a blond man, was shouting. The caterpillar waved its arms. Kendi looked stunned. I just huddled in my chair. They were angry. They were going to do something to me. I wanted to run.

  Finally Grandfather Melthine quieted the room and got everyone to sit down again. He was the one who’d put a hand on my shoulder. His face was pale.

  “That was…impressive, young Sejal,” he said. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. “I think you made history today.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “We’ll need to analyze this more closely later,” Melthine added. “We thought Brother Kendi was powerful because he can split his mind into two pieces in the Dream. But you, Sejal…well, your abilities go rather beyond that.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  Grandfather Melthine took a deep breath. “Well. Mother Adept Araceil Rymar also reported that you can pull other people into the Dream. Is that correct?”

  I nodded.

  “Tell us about it in your own words.”

  I did. It took some time. Kendi got me some water, and I was glad for it. I was still nervous. Everyone listened carefully, and they didn’
t interrupt. I got the feeling they’d heard the story before and mentally kicked myself for not realizing that Kendi and probably Mother Ara had already told it to them.

  When I was done, Melthine nodded. “Is there anything else you can do?”

  I hadn’t told them about my empathy talent. I was going to, but then I changed my mind. I can’t say why. Eventually I’d have to tell someone, probably Kendi, but then I could say I forgot about it or that it was new. So I shook my head.

  One of the Ched-Balaar chattered something from where he (she?) was squatting on the floor.

  “Father Adept Ched-Farask wants to know more about this ability to bring people into the Dream,” Melthine told me. “Can you do it with anyone? Including non-Silent?”

  “I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  “Have him try it with me,” said a new voice. Everyone’s head swung around and I twisted in my seat. Harenn was standing in the doorway. I wondered how she had known about the meeting and figured Kendi must have mentioned it to her.

  “Harenn Mashib,” Grandfather Melthine said. “You weren’t invited here.”

  Like that ever stopped Harenn. She walked straight up to the table as cool as an ice trader. “I volunteer to be a test subject,” she said, “to see if Sejal can take the non-Silent into the Dream.”

  “Harenn-” Kendi said.

  “I’ll try it,” I said suddenly. Until that moment, I hadn’t really liked Harenn. But now here she was, facing down a council of powerful people. And I also knew what she was going through. I had felt her panic and her pain for a few seconds. Harenn had told me how she was hoping to use the Dream to find her husband, the guy who’d kidnapped their kid and run off. I wanted to help.

  “Sejal is too early in his training to enter the Dream unaccompanied,” Melthine pointed out. “He has been forbidden to do so.”

  Harenn snorted behind her veil. “Do you honestly think that has stopped this boy? As good to leave an open box of sweets on a child’s bed and tell him he can only have one. He has entered the Dream often, you may be certain.”