Dreamer Read online

  That’s not what I meant, Sejal said impatiently. I need you in the Dream. You’ve known him longer than I have. Maybe you can reach him.

  A stab of fear. “I can’t reach the Dream, Sejal. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work for me.” But even as he said it, an inner voice began listing contradictions. Genetically, he was Silent. There was really only one thing that had kept him out of the Dream all this time.

  His own reluctance.

  You’re Silent, Sejal countered, paralleling Ben’s thoughts. That’s why I can talk to you. And if I pulled Kendi into the Dream, I can sure as hell pull you in, too. You ready?

  “No!” Ben had to shout to hear himself over his own pounding heart. “Sejal, I can’t. I can’t enter the Dream. It’s impossible.”

  Shit, Ben. Sejal’s voice was startled. What do you mean that—oh. Oh shit!

  “What?” Ben said. “What’s wrong?”

  You and Kendi. Shit. He never told me, but now I can feel it. My God. I knew you two were friends, but Kendi never said you two were in—

  “I can’t do it, Sejal,” Ben interrupted. “I just can’t. Can you get him out? You’re supposed to be some kind of super-Silent.”

  I’ve tried, Ben. He’s locked himself up in some kind of psycho-fantasy or something. I don’t know him well enough to reach through that, and he’s strong enough to keep me out. He may not be able to keep you out, though. You love him.

  It was very odd hearing it from someone else. Ben swallowed.

  Ready? Sejal said. I’ll bring you in. One…two…

  “Wait!” Ben shouted. His breathing had gone short and panicky.

  Ben, I can’t wait. Katsu needs me. Ready?

  Ben looked down at Kendi’s motionless form. Sejal was going to take him into the Dream, the Dream that swallowed people up and took them away from you. The Dream that made people ordinary. If Ben entered the Dream, he’d be just like the rest of his family. Ben had defined himself as special, as non-Silent, for almost twenty years. If he entered the Dream, he wouldn’t be himself anymore.

  And the Dream had killed his mother.

  The memory of finding his mother’s crumpled body at the base of the talltree flashed before him. Yes, his mother was dead. And her death had given him the strength to act, to get Kendi to safety. Now Kendi needed him again, and he was shying away? New resolve filled him.

  “Bring me in, Sejal,” Ben said firmly. “Go!”

  You got it.

  There was a twist, and suddenly Ben was standing on a blank plain. A diffuse sort of light came from no discernable direction. The air was calm and still. In the distance lay a roiling black mass, and beside him stood a massive stone block. So this was the Dream. In wonder, Ben touched his own chest and arms. They felt solid, just as they did in the real world. A wild cry sounded overhead and Ben looked up. A falcon was circling above him.

  “You made it.”

  Ben whirled around to see Sejal. His dark hair was tousled, and his pale blue eyes looked tired in his brown face. He seemed far older than sixteen.

  “Kendi’s in there,” Sejal said, gesturing at the block. “I have to get back to Katsu.” And with that, he vanished.

  “Wait!” Ben shouted. “What do I do? Who’s Katsu? How do I get back?”

  But he was talking to empty air.

  Ben licked his lips, trying to remember everything he had heard about the Dream and how it worked. Reality was supposed to shape itself around him, becoming whatever he expected it to be. Sejal said Kendi was trapped inside the stone block. Since there were no other Silent around, that could only mean that Kendi himself had, for some reason, created the thing and he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—come out. But why had he created it in the first place? Ben had no idea.

  Best to get him out, then, and ask.

  Ben put a palm on the stone. Like a sudden jolt, he felt Kendi inside. It was almost the reverse of the terrible loneliness he had felt back on Bellerophon. Kendi was there in a way that Ben had never felt before, even if Ben couldn’t see or touch him.

  Kendi was also terrified right down to his bones.

  Even more worried now, Ben pushed on the stone. It was thoroughly solid. Ben paused and imagined his hand going through the rock. That was the way the Dream worked—if you imagined it, it was so. But Ben’s hand remained stubbornly on the surface of the block.

  “Kendi!” he shouted. “Kendi, let me in!”

  No response. The falcon continued to circle overhead. Kendi had mentioned his animal friend, a fragment of Kendi’s own mind, but Ben didn’t see how knowing this could help.

  Time for more desperate measures. Ben closed his eyes and imagined a laser pistol. When he closed his hand, he would feel it, smooth and heavy, in his palm. One…two…three. Ben closed his hand.

  It remained empty. Ben puffed out his cheeks. He had no experience—or, apparently, talent—at this. His mother could have probably whipped up a jackhammer or just imagined herself inside the block, and so it would be. But Ben was stuck here by himself, abandoned by Sejal, Kendi, even his mother. Not even entering the Dream had changed that about his—

  No. That was the wrong way to think. Kendi was here. Ben could feel him. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the block.

  Kendi, he thought. Tell me how to reach you. I’m all alone out here just like you’re all alone in there.

  A faint whisper of movement. Had the block shifted? Ben didn’t move. Instead he thought about Kendi, his jokes, his eyes, his laugh, how much Ben missed him.

  Come on, Kendi. Let me in. I’m here for you now. I’ll always be here for you, even in the Dream.

  The rock definitely shifted.

  Kendi. Let me in the way I never let you in. I’m sorry I didn’t. Come on, Kendi. Dammit, Kendi, I love you. Now let me in!

  The block opened. Ben stumbled forward in surprise, and his eyes popped open. Behind him, the block sealed itself shut, leaving a blank wall. Ben found himself in a dank, dimly-lit corridor. Barred prison cells lined the walls, and people moaned and muttered from their depths. Ben was wearing the black and scarlet uniform of the Unity guard, right down to boots and holstered pistol.

  And then Ben knew what was going on. It should have been so obvious. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?

  Astonished and uncertain, Ben walked slowly down the corridor, peering into each cell as he went. The people inside were ill-defined, barely more than shades. Where was Kendi? He had to be here someplace.

  A horrible scream chilled every drop of Ben’s blood. He ran toward the sound, boots thudding on the corridor floor, until he came to the final cell. When he peered inside, his gorge came up and he had to swallow hard. A transparent man was standing over the body of an equally transparent woman. The knife in his hand dripped scarlet blood. The woman was—had been—pregnant, but her belly had been slashed open. The baby lay on stone floor next to its mother, bleeding, dying. Ben involuntarily backed up a step.

  “Keeennnddiiii,” the man with the knife said. “Want me to do you next?”

  Kendi huddled on the floor against the bars, his back to Ben, and Ben realized that to Kendi the entire scene was real. The Silent did not—could not—create people in the Dream. Sentient behavior was too complex for even the subconscious mind to create and control. But shades like these were two-dimensional. Kendi, trapped in his own nightmare, didn’t seem to notice.

  The man with the knife advanced a step. Before Ben could react, Kendi suddenly moved. With lightning speed, his hand flashed forward and dipped into the puddle of blood. He flicked it like water at the man, then smeared some on his own forehead. With a manic grin, he threw back his head and howled at the roof. The sound sent a chill down Ben’s back.

  Another transparent man advanced out of the shadows of the cell. He put a restraining hand on the man with the knife.

  “Leave him alone,” he said in a raspy voice. “He’s a lunatic. You attack him, he’ll go nuts. You stab a guy like that, he only gets madder.”


  Kendi howled again as the two men retreated into the darkness of the cell. Then Kendi slumped to the floor to huddle once again against the bars.

  Ben stepped closer and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could make a sound, the scene in the cell flickered like a hologram. The two corpses, one woman and one baby, vanished. In their place stood the woman, alive and pregnant but still transparent. The man brandished his knife. The woman screamed as he brought it down in a flashing arc. Blood flowed and the woman collapsed to the cell floor.

  “Keeennndiii,” the knife man said. “Want me to do you next?”

  Ben watched the entire scene play out again in exact, gruesome detail. At the end, Kendi gave his chilling howl and slumped back against the bars.

  How many times has he replayed this? Ben thought in horror, even as his heart wrenched in sympathy and pain. How had Kendi survived this? How was he surviving it now?

  Ben put a hand through the bars and grabbed Kendi’s shoulder before the scene could reset itself. Kendi let out a snarl and twisted like a cat.

  “Kendi, it’s all right,” Ben soothed. “It’s me. Ben.”

  Kendi blinked owlishly up at him. “Ben? All life—Ben you have to get out! They’ll catch you.”

  He really thinks he’s in the Unity prison again, Ben thought. “I’ve come to get you out. Kendi, come on. You can do it.”

  “Run, Ben,” Kendi pleaded hoarsely, his hands grasping the bars. “Run before they—”

  “Keeeennnndiiii,” the knife man rasped. “Who’s your friend, Keeeennnddiiii?”

  The scene hadn’t reset this time. The knife man stepped over his victims, ignoring the advice of his friend. Ben’s heart leaped into his mouth. If the man stabbed Kendi in the Dream, his real body would die as well.

  “Kendi, come with me,” Ben said urgently. “This prison isn’t real. You can walk out anytime you want.”

  “Run, Ben,” Kendi said. “Please! Don’t let them get you, too.”

  The man loomed behind Kendi and raised the knife. Ben reacted. He yanked out the laser pistol holstered at his side, the one Kendi had unwittingly created for him, and fired into the cell. The knife man dropped his blade and fell to the floor, twitching and writhing in pain. Kendi stared with wide eyes. Blood was still smeared on his forehead.

  Ben met Kendi’s gaze and held out his hand. “Come with me, Kendi.”

  Kendi looked at Ben’s hand. “I can’t, Ben. I don’t deserve it.”

  “No one deserves this, Kendi,” Ben told him. “Come with me.”

  “I didn’t do anything to stop him,” Kendi whispered. “All life, I didn’t do a damn thing.”

  “There wasn’t anything you could do,” Ben replied. “If you had, you would both have been dead instead of just her.”

  “And the baby,” Kendi said. “I dipped my finger in the baby’s blood.”

  “You did it to save yourself,” Ben said. “To make them think you were insane so they’d leave you alone. But that’s over now, Kendi. Come with me.”

  But Kendi refused Ben’s hand. “I can’t.”

  “Kendi,” Ben said in sudden inspiration. “I forgive you.”

  Kendi continued to look at him.

  “I forgive you,” Ben repeated.

  “That’s not enough,” Kendi said.

  “It’ll do,” Ben replied, “until you can forgive yourself. Come out of the cell, Kendi. Come out of the cell for me.”

  With a low cry, Kendi snatched Ben’s hand. The bars vanished and the stone walls melted away, leaving Ben and Kendi alone on the empty plain. Kendi dropped to the ground, dragging Ben with him. Then he buried his face in Ben’s shoulder. He cried for what felt like a long time, great shuddering tears of relief. Ben just held him until the storm subsided. When it finally did, Kendi pushed himself upright.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, sniffling. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  Ben gave him a rakish grin. “Present from Sejal.”

  A shuddering boom thundered through earth and air. As one, Ben and Kendi twisted around to look at the dark place just in time to see the darkness splinter and shatter into a thousand pieces.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THE DREAM

  When dinosaurs fight, it is the grass that suffers.

  —Bellerophon proverb

  The children were angrier than Sejal thought possible. They howled and shrieked and swirled around Sejal and Katsu. A shadow grabbed Sejal’s arm in an icy grip, and he gave a hard, instinctive shove with his mind. The child released him with a screech that almost split Sejal’s skull. Another swiped at Katsu’s head, but she ducked away. Sejal spun around, trying to look in all directions at once. Angry red gashes swirled through the blackness like blood in a whirlpool.

  “They’re angry because Father and Mother are taking them out of the Dream!” Katsu shouted at him. “My dancing does nothing now. They will devour the people on Ru—”

  Another swipe. Katsu flung herself sideways just as something cold and hungry landed on Sejal’s back. He yelled and clawed at his back. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of icy slime on him.

  “Get off me!” he snarled, and thrust backward hard. A slashing pain tore at the side of his neck. Then the icy slime vanished. Sejal whirled, neck throbbing, but the child had skittered back into the darkness. Another hand grabbed at him, and another and another. The children gibbered and laughed at him, clawing at him like a dozen grabby jobbers. Pressure built up in his head and he put his hands over his ears to shut out their noise.

  “Get out of here!” he screamed.

  The darkness shattered like glass. Over two dozen shadows raced howling away, leaving Sejal and Katsu alone on the Dream’s empty plain. Katsu stared at him, wild-eyed and panting. In the new silence he could hear her heart beating.

  “What happened?” Sejal croaked.

  “Look!” she replied, pointing upward.

  Sejal obeyed and saw the darkness hadn’t vanished after all. From horizon to horizon, the entire sky had gone black. Thunder rumbled hungrily. The sky began to descend and he resisted the urge to fling himself flat.

  “They’ve begun,” Katsu said. “They’re going to devour every mind in the Dream.”

  “Mom will—” Sejal began.

  “Not quickly enough,” Katsu interrupted. “There are thirty—no, twenty-nine—of them left, and look how easily they cover the sky. They will devour Rust, and our parents will lose interest in the cryo-units.”

  Not far away, a thick pillar of black dropped down from the sky like a finger as big as a city. The ground shifted and bucked where it landed. Uncountable minds cried out in despair.

  “They’ve taken a planet,” Katsu said.

  Another pillar dropped near the first, and the ground shifted again. More cries like an ocean wave. Tears ran Sejal’s face in sympathy.

  “We have to stop them!” he cried. “All those people—”

  “We aren’t strong enough,” Katsu said dispiritedly. “I can’t force them, only persuade them. You are able to push them, but only a little.”

  Thunder rumbled, a demon clearing its throat. Another pillar crashed down. There was a feeling of horrible exultation in the gesture.

  Sejal grabbed Katsu’s arm. “We need help.”

  “Who? There aren’t many Silent in the Dream right now, and we’d probably need—”

  “—all of them?” Sejal said in an odd voice.

  Katsu looked at him. “Can you do that?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  “There must be a faster way,” Vidya puffed. Sweat plastered hair and clothes to her body and her muscles felt shaky. There were still twenty-eight more children to go.

  Prasad stabbed the controls and the lid on the cryo-unit slid shut over the squirming child. The viewplate fogged over. Without speaking, he moved to the next bed.

  “Sedatives?” Vidya said, moving next to him and disconnecting tubes.

  “I don’t know wher
e they would be,” Prasad told her, “and I wouldn’t know the dosage. I’d be just as likely to kill them.”

  Vidya swiftly removed the last tube. “Perhaps, my husband, that would be the best choice.”

  “No.” There was iron in Prasad’s voice as he slid the cryo-unit from under the bed and undid the child’s restrains. “They are my sons and daughters. They cannot help who they are and what they are doing.”

  They wrestled the child into the unit. An arm cracked Vidya in the face. Pain exploded and for a moment she saw stars. She forced her hands to keep moving, however, until the cryo-unit slid shut and condensation gathered on the viewplate. Then they moved to the next bed, and the next. Vidya moved in a sort of fog, losing all track of time. Twenty-six left. Twenty-five. Twenty-four. Twenty. Her exhausted muscles were shaking so badly she fumbled at the tubes. Her aching body was covered in bruises from the hard hands and heels that struggled against her. Nineteen left. Eighteen. Now they were in the final Nursery. Sixteen left. Fifteen.

  “Freeze!”

  The command startled Vidya out of her trance. A stab of terror went through her chest as she spun to face the door. Prasad straightened from the child they were working on, then took a step forward, placing himself between Vidya and the four armed guard standing at the door to the glassed-in area. The door to the main laboratory stood open behind them. Vidya thought Prasad was being stupidly romantic until he gestured sharply behind his back at the cattle prod dangling from Vidya’s belt. Hiding her motions behind Prasad’s body, she eased it off the loop and slid it into her waistband under her shirt.

  “Who are you?” Prasad demanded, though the black-and-scarlet guard uniforms made that obvious. Dr. Say’s emergency alert had done its work. “What do you want?”

  “You’re under arrest,” the lead guard snapped.

  “What for?” Prasad snapped back.

  In answer, the guard fired. Prasad collapsed to the floor.

  Sejal closed his eyes. Katsu’s hand was cold in his. All around him, pillars of darkness dropped from the sky in an avalanche of pain and misery. Fully a third of the Dream was gone. Every so often a bit of the darkness would vanish—his parents at work—but that didn’t seem to decrease the children’s power. In the Dream, the Silent were limited only by willpower and self-concept. The twisted children, raised apart from humanity, did not know they were supposed to have limits. Sejal had the sinking feeling that he was dealing with an infinite set, and that one child was just as powerful as a hundred of them.