If I give you wings, will you ever fly?
—Irfan Qasad
Kendi faltered. Her wings folded slightly and she was falling. She snapped them outward again and—
wings?
—righted herself. Hot, dry air rushed over her feathers. The ground was far, far below, but her eyes made out every detail. Even tiny movements grabbed her attention—
feathers?
—and the five people below her stood out in sharp detail. One of the people looked upward and staggered a bit. Dark skin, slender build, curly black hair. Falcon eyes met human eyes, and falcon Kendi dove straight down. Human Kendi raised an arm and falcon Kendi landed on it with a flurry of wings and feathers. The moment falcon Kendi touched down, a moment of dizziness swept over her. She was sitting on a wiry forearm—
she?
—and at the same time standing on hot Outback sand. The dizziness passed and she clacked her beak. Human Kendi hesitantly touched falcon Kendi’s feathers and falcon Kendi half-closed her eyes, leaning into the comforting touch.
Other humans gathered around, staring. Falcon Kendi watched them through hooded eyes, suspicious. Then human Kendi flung his arm up and with a high, shrill cry falcon Kendi flung her wings open and clawed the air for altitude. In moments, she was high in the free, clear sky.
Kendi shaded his eyes in astonishment as the falcon dwindled into a tiny black speck against the blue. He could no longer feel her mind, but he remembered gliding on the air and dropping down to land on her brother’s arm. Every memory the falcon had was also his own. A breathless excitement rushed through him like adrenaline. Ultralights and aircraft didn’t even come close.
“What the hell?” Jeren said beside him.
“She’s my sister,” Kendi said, awed. “When we touch, I know what she’s thinking. Wow! Wow!”
“Where did she come from?” Willa asked.
“I don’t know. She was just...there.” He noticed the itch behind his eyes was growing stronger. His drugs were wearing off. If he didn’t leave the Dream soon, he would eventually be yanked out of it, and all his teachers said it was an unpleasant way to leave the Dream. Some Silent ended up bed-ridden for days from the shock. “I have to get out of here. My stuff’s wearing off.”
“Yeah, me too,” Kite said. “Let’s talk in the solid world.”
Kendi shut his eyes. If it be in my the best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he thought, let me leave the Dream.
He opened his eyes back in Ara’s living room. The rain had slowed to a few big drops that pattered against the window in irregular splashes. He disentangled himself from the red spear as the others began to open their eyes and stretch. Clanking sounds issued from behind Ben’s closed bedroom door.
“Whatappen?” Kite blurted.
“Yeah,” Dorna said, perching herself cross-legged on the sofa. “What was that falcon all about?”
Kendi fidgeted. It was hard to sit still. He got up and paced the floor. “I’m not sure. I felt like I was being pulled in two directions at once, and then suddenly I was in two places at once. I was me, and I was also the falcon. It was...it was a real rush, you know?”
“Should we try it again?” Kite said, slowing down. “Go back into the Dream and see if Kendi can bring back the falcon?”
“We should call a teacher,” Willa said quietly. “Mother Ara or one of the other Parents.”
“Mother Ara’s out with—” Kendi paused. “She’s out. I don’t know how to get hold of her. I want to do it again.”
“Maybe Ben would know how to get hold of her,” Willa said. “You should have someone with you, Kendi. Someone who knows what’s going on.”
Impatience seized Kendi. He wanted to get back into the Dream. He wanted to fly again, feel the air rush past his head. But he had to admit there was merit in what Willa said. He crossed quickly to Ben’s door, knocked once, and opened it. Ben, face red with exertion, set down the barbell in surprise.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Kendi quickly explained. Ben got up and came into the living room. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” he said. “But I’m not—not Silent, so there’s a lot I don’t know.”
“Can you get hold of your mom?” Kendi asked.
“Maybe.” Ben tapped the living room wall and a section glowed into a viewscreen. “Eliza, page Mom. Tell her to call home.”
“Working,” said the house computer. Several moments passed and Kendi continued to fidget. The Dream was calling to him. He barely noticed that he was standing close enough to Ben to feel his body heat.
“Mother Araceil is unavailable,” the computer reported.
“No surprise,” Ben muttered. “She’s never available.”
“Try Father Ched-Hisak,” Willa said. “Or Grandfather Melthine.”
Ben relayed the instructions. “Father Ched-Hisak is unavailable,” said the computer. “Grandfather Melthine is unavailable.”
“Well, shit,” Jeren said. “Come on, Kendi. It’s not your fault you can’t reach them. Let’s go and see what you can do.”
“We should wait,” Dorna cautioned. “Nothing’s going to change between now and when someone shows up.”
“I agree,” Willa said. “It could be dangerous.”
“It didn’t hurt me before,” Kendi pointed out. “It felt great! I want to go back in now and make sure I can do it again.”
Ben put a hand on Kendi’s arm. “You might want to wait,” he said. “It sounds to me like you’re splitting up your mind, and someone with experience should watch you.”
“You can watch my real body,” Kendi told him. “I’ll wear a medical monitor and you can keep an eye on the readout. If something starts to go wrong, you shout for help.”
“I don’t—” Ben began.
“Ben, I have to go in,” Kendi said. “I can’t hold off. Come on—help me out. Please?”
Ben gave him a long look, uncertainty written all over his face. After a long moment, he nodded. “All right. I’ll get the monitor.”
Kendi grabbed him in a rough hug. “Thanks!”
“Okay, okay,” Ben said breathlessly. “Not so rough!”
Kendi instantly let go and felt his face grow hot. It had felt so natural to embrace Ben that he hadn’t even thought. But Ben’s reaction hadn’t been positive. He hadn’t even hugged back.
I guess, Kendi thought, that answers my question about him. Well, we can still be friends.
Ben, meanwhile, left the room and came back with the wristband sensor and the readout monitor. Kendi slipped the band on and went back to the others in the living room, his enthusiasm a little dampened. Ben followed. The Silent trainees were already arranging themselves on chairs and couch. Jeren handed Kendi his red spear and red dermospray.
“Let’s do this bitch,” he said.
“We meet,” Kendi said firmly, “on my turf,” and the others nodded.
Once Ben determined that the readout unit was working properly, Kendi positioned himself on his spear, injected himself, and shut his eyes.
If it be in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere, he thought, let me enter the Dream.
A few moments later, the five students were once again standing beneath the golden sun and azure sky of Kendi’s Outback. Kendi dressed them in the usual khaki explorer outfits, though he himself was shirtless, with bare feet and white shorts. Going naked or wearing a loincloth in front of a Ched-Balaar was one thing. Doing either in front of his fellow human students was quite another.
“How it work?” Kite said. “What did you do?”
“I’m not completely sure,” Kendi admitted. “It happened when I was trying to find Dorna.” Something occurred to him, and he turned to face her. Her dark hair curled out from under her pith helmet. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Make it seem like you’re in two places at once. Is it like the way you can interfere with people finding you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Whenever I tried to find you in the hide and seek game,” Kendi said, “it felt like you were in two or three different places. I meant to ask you about it, but then the falcon showed up and I forgot.”
“I don’t do any such thing,” Dorna said. “Really. Maybe you’re just misreading, or you’re sensing people who have similar thoughts to mine. I mean, you’ve only been using the Dream for a week.”
Kendi’s first thought was that Dorna was lying. But here in the Dream, lies were impossible.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Let me try it again.”
He closed his eyes and tried to recall the sensation of being pulled in two directions at once. It should have been hard—they weren’t playing the game anymore and Dorna was standing right beside him. But it turned out be easy. A few seconds later, a high scream shrilled on the wind, and the small falcon circled overhead. Kendi opened his eyes.
“Is that you?” Willa looked up, shading her eyes.
“Yeah. I know she’s there, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Not right now.”
“She?” Kite said.
Kendi nodded. “The falcon’s a female. I don’t know why. She just is.”
An internal voice poked at him. Is it because you like men? But Kendi pushed the thought away. The falcon was who she was, and that was all. He pursed his lips and whistled. The falcon instantly dove for the ground. Kendi held up an arm and she landed, making a surprisingly light, feathery bundle. The moment she touched him, he felt himself both standing on the ground and perched on his own arm. Memories of rushing air and hot sun coursed through him and he staggered a little. The falcon flapped her wings to keep her balance until the vertigo passed. Her talons were long and sharp, but they didn’t do the least bit of injury to Kendi’s arm.
Why should she? he thought. She’s me.
The others moved closer to examine the falcon and made impressed-sounding noises.
“She’s you?” Willa said.
“That’s what it feels like,” Kendi said.
“You’re schizo,” Jeren put in. “Shit, you’ve split your mind into pieces.”
“I’m not crazy,” Kendi said defensively. “What the hell kind of remark is that?”
Jeren shrugged. “I just call it like I see it.”
Ripples washed through the Outback and Kendi spun around. The falcon flapped again. Approaching them was a man. Kendi automatically drew back. It was the dark man, the one who had killed Vera Cheel. He was coming to get—
“Hi!” the man called. “Can I approach? Is everything here okay?”
It wasn’t the dark man. This man was tall and blond and he wore blue overalls. A belt of tools hung around his waist and he had large, callused hands. Kendi remembered him. It was the man whose turf Kendi had stumbled onto during the game a while ago.
“We’re okay,” Kite said. “Come over. Who’re you?”
“Name’s Buck,” he replied. “My turf’s just over that way and I felt something weird, right? So I thought I’d come over and make sure everyone was okay.”
“We’re fine,” Jeren said. There was a strange note in his voice that Kendi couldn’t identify.
“Okay. Good.” Buck stuck his hands in his pockets. “Nice bird.”
“Thanks.” Kendi stroked the falcon’s feathers and she cheeped once at him. “I just got her.”
“She’s a part of you, hey?”
“I guess.” Kendi paused. “How did you know that?”
Buck shrugged. “I can feel it. How come she takes a falcon form?”
“I don’t know,” Kendi admitted. “I’m new to this.”
“You aren’t a Child of Irfan, are you?” Jeren said evenly. It was more a statement than a question.
“Nope. I’m independent. Do some contract work when I can get it, right? Look, kid, you’ve got something new here, something I don’t think anyone’s seen in the Dream, and I’ll bet there’s a lot more you can do with this.”
“Like what?” Kendi asked.
“Well, this is a kind of shapeshifting, for one thing.” Buck scuffed at the ground with his work boot. “A part of your mind’s taken another shape in the Dream, yeah? Unless you’re a falcon in the solid world and the human I’m talking to is the little splinter.”
Kite snorted.
“Right,” Kendi said with a smile. “So?”
“So what if your animal friend—animal self—here can take on other shapes? Other animals.”
Kite whistled. Willa twisted a lock of hair and sat down on a rock. Kendi blinked at Buck, suddenly remembering the dream he had had when the camel changed into a crocodile. Mother Ara had said the realistic dreams were a partial entry into the Dream itself. Had he already been doing this?
“I wouldn’t even know how to start,” Kendi said at last. “I mean, I just today got—”
“It’d be easy, yeah?” Buck interrupted. “You want something else—a grizzly or a tiger.”
“Or a drop bear,” Dorna put in.
“Uh, how about something smaller?” Willa said nervously. “Maybe a kangaroo. I saw a picture of one once. They come from Australia, don’t they?”
“So you imagine it happening,” Buck continued. “Just like you imagine people wearing the clothes you want or your turf being whatever shape it takes. Which reminds me, kid—why don’t you turn the sun down a little? I’m sweating my ass off, yeah?”
“That’s the Outback,” Kendi said. “Love it or leave it. How do you know so much about shapeshifting?”
“I have friends who do it,” Buck replied. “You gonna try it or what?”
“What’s your interest in this?” Jeren demanded.
Buck shrugged. “Just helping out. You don’t want me around, I’ll leave, right?”
“No, stay.” Kendi leveled Jeren a withering glare. “He’s just—just overprotective. Let me try this.”
Before anyone could say another word, Kendi closed his eyes. The falcon on his arm shifted a bit and he could feel the talons gripping his arm. A tiger? No, he decided. Better something that won’t attack. Koala bear? Cute, but more likely to bite than any tiger. Kangaroo then. Kendi imagined the animal—long legs, long tail, pouch. The falcon would become a kangaroo and it would become a kangaroo now.
A sudden heavy weight dragged his arm down and there was heavy thud on the ground beside him. Kendi’s eyes popped open. He found himself looking at a kangaroo sprawled on the sandy soil. She quickly scrambled to her feet and looked at him with reproachful brown eyes.
“I did it,” Kendi whispered. “All life, I did it!”
A great splash ripped through the Dream. The Outback wavered, distorted like a bad hologram. Kendi staggered, almost knocked flat. The kangaroo made an angry whuffing noise.
“What the fuck?” Jeren yelped. Standing next to him was an old woman. With a flash of recognition, Kendi remembered her. He had stumbled into her flower garden by accident and she had animated the plants to drive him out.
“What are you little shits up to?” she demanded. Her iron-gray hair stood out like an angry dandelion. “You’re sending ripples through the entire Dream. My gladiolas will never be the same.”
Kendi recovered himself enough to be angry. This was his turf, and Ara had made it very clear to him that a Silent’s turf was inviolate. Appearing in the middle of Kendi’s turf uninvited and unannounced was the height of rudeness. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he snarled.
“The woman’s whose garden you’re fucking up, that’s who,” the woman grumbled. “And my name’s Zelda. Jesus, boy—you’ve got to learn some control.”
“And you’ve got to learn some manners.”
“Look, boy, do you want all your neighbors mad at you or not?” Zelda said.
“I don’t give a shit what you—”
“You better give a shit,” Zelda snapped. “Otherwise you’re going to have a hundred Silent in all directions pretty pissed at you. That what you want?”
“No,” Kendi said, then hated himself for agreeing with her. “Look, what do you—”
“Just learn to change that...that thing—” she gestured sharply at the kangaroo “—more quietly. Jesus.”
“It’s not a thing,” Kite said. “It’s part of Kendi.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Kendi said sharply.
“You just have to make the change a little smoother,” Zelda said in a quieter voice. “Here, let me show you.” She picked up a stone. Kendi felt her hands touching it as if she were touching him instead. Before he could protest, she closed her hand around it. When she opened it, she was holding a bright yellow marigold. Kendi stared. He hadn’t felt the change, even though she had effectively made it in his own mind.
“Wow,” Dorna whistled.
“She’s good,” Buck said.
“How did you do that?” Kendi asked, interested despite his earlier anger.
“Practice,” she said. “And a few lessons. Here, let me show you. I’ll even do it for free so you’ll quit rippling my garden. Close your eyes, boy, and listen to what I say.”
oOo
Ben sat on the living room floor. Four bodies lay on chairs and sofa, and a fifth stood propped on a spear in the corner. All of them were still as breathing statutes. Red dermosprays lay scattered across the floor. Ben hated this. The quiet bodies in the room underscored the fact that Ben himself would never enter the Dream.
He sighed and checked Kendi’s readout. It was singularly unhelpful. Sure, it said that everything was fine with Kendi, but it didn’t tell him what Kendi was doing. The familiar desire—need—to enter the Dream swept over Ben. Not for the first time he wondered what it was that prevented him. Every test showed he had the genes for Silence, but for some reason he had never expressed the ability. He had never heard strange whispers or voices. He had never woken up from a dream so vivid that he would have sworn it was real. He had never felt a jolt when touching a Silent. Not once. He knew it disappointed his mother, though she had never said so, or even hinted it. He knew his aunt, uncle, and cousins thought he was sub-human, because they had said so.
Since he couldn’t do anything his Silent family did, Ben was therefore careful to do those activities none of them could do. So far, he was the family expert in computers and he was the only one who lifted weights. Indeed, he had never known his family to engage in any kind of exercise whatsoever. That was fine with Ben. If he couldn’t take pride in his mind, then he would damn well take pride in his body. And the results of a year’s worth of labor showed. Mom now had to buy him shirts with broader shoulders and looser sleeves. Firm muscle rippled across his abdomen, and his legs were thick and powerful.
He wondered if Kendi had noticed.
Ben got up and walked over to Kendi. The young man was several centimeters taller than Ben, and thinner. His build was more whipcord, and he was damned handsome.
Ben stared at Kendi, uncertain. Why did he feel this way? When Kendi had hugged him, it had felt good. Hell, it had felt great. Better than a simple, friendly hug should have made him feel. It was confusing. Did he like Kendi as more than a friend? Ben shook his head. There were lots of guys who liked—loved—other men. No big deal there. It was just that Ben had never considered himself one of them.
“God, I’ve had girlfriends,” he said aloud.
But, he thought, none for more than a few weeks. Some of the other guys at school talked about nothing but girls, talked as if they thought about girls constantly, or at least daily. Ben never had. This had never worried him. He hadn’t even really thought about it. Not until he had met Kendi.
Kendi remained still as a statue, hands cupped over his groin, one leg propped up on the red spear. The end was sharp and Ben knew Kendi had to replace the rubber tip every so often. Ben had once asked Kendi why he didn’t simply blunt the end, and Kendi had given him a blank look.
“The Real People don’t do it that way,” he said.
Ben put a hand in front of Kendi’s face and felt Kendi’s breath warm and regular on his palm. A shiver went through him. He touched Kendi’s shoulder with a hesitant hand and swallowed. He wanted to grab Kendi up in a hard, crushing embrace, hold onto him for hours, or days. After a moment, Ben put both arms around him and leaned his head against Kendi’s chest.
Just to see, he thought, what it feels like.
It felt empty. Kendi wasn’t hugging him back. Feeling foolish, Ben released him, careful not to knock him over, though he doubted even that would wake him. The more experienced Silent could be jerked out of the Dream through physical stimuli such as a pain or a sudden jolt, but novices usually had to concentrate so hard just to attain the necessary trance that they completely ignored outside stimuli.
A flicker of movement caught the corner of Ben’s eye and he spun around. Dorna was sitting up in her chair. She cracked her knuckles. Ben’s stomach twisted sickeningly. Had he seen her hugging Kendi?
“Hey, Dorna,” Ben said, keeping his voice steady. “What’s—”
“I have control,” she said in a strangely deep voice. “Well fuck me with a banana.”
Ben blinked. “What?”
“About goddam time, too.” Dorna got up and looked around the room. “Well, lover-boy, you can just tell your goody-good friends that I’m keeping control. They want to do something, they’re gonna have to go through me.”
“You?” Ben echoed, still confused. “I don’t understand.”
Dorna laughed, a harsh, male sound. “That’s because you’re stupid. Now this dude—” she crossed the room to where Kendi stood “—this dude’s noticed some stuff. Fucking prick.” And she backhanded him hard across the face.
“Hey!” Ben grabbed her wrist. “What the hell are you doing?”
The stomach punch landed before Ben could react. Air rushed out of his lungs and he doubled over. Not for nothing had he been strengthening his abdominal muscles, however, and he recovered quickly. Without thinking he launched himself forward and rammed a shoulder into Dorna. She staggered back. Ben grabbed her arm and tried to spin her around so he could shove her against the wall, but she twisted away from him. Another punch came at his jaw. Ben dodged and realized too late it was a only feint. Pain exploded in his groin and lower belly as Dorna’s foot snapped up. Ben collapsed to the floor, agony written hard on his face.
“You fight like a fucking girl,” Dorna said, and kicked him in the stomach. Ben cried out. And then she was gone.
Ben lay there, unable to move for some time, until the pain finally subsided enough to let him get to his feet. He checked himself but didn’t find anything sprained or broken. Jeren, Kite, Willa, and Kendi remained motionless. He staggered to the bathroom and swallowed a handful of painkillers. In the mirror his face appeared pale beneath disheveled flame-red hair. What should he do next? Call the Guardians? Maybe he should—
“Ben?” came Kendi’s voice. “Ben, where are you?”
Ben made his way back to the living room. Kendi was holding his spear in one hand. The other hand he held to his cheek. The others shifted, then opened their eyes.
“My face hurts like hell,” Kendi said. “What’s going on?”
“Dorna slapped you,” Ben said, “then she attacked me.” Various cries of disbelief and astonishment caromed around the room and Ben had to wait for them to quiet down before he could explain. The pills he had taken started to kick in as he spoke, and some of the pain faded as he told the story.
“Now she’s gone,” he finished. “I don’t know where she went.”
“Dorna was still in the Dream when I left,” Kendi said. “She couldn’t have been awake here. It’s impossible.”
“Tell that to my crotch,” Ben blurted, then flushed.
“Got you in the nuts, huh?” Jeren said. “Bitch doesn’t fight fair.”
“We have to call someone,” Willa declared. “Ben, try your mother again. Maybe she’ll answer this time.”
Ben obeyed. This time, Mom’s face appeared on the wall screen. For the second time, Ben explained what had happened.
“Stay right where you are,” she ordered. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The screen went blank.
“You should get some ice for your stomach,” Kendi said. “And for your—your—”
“My stomach, anyway,” Ben said, flushing again.
He was still holding a damp towelful to his abdomen when Ara got home. Father Ched-Hisak was right behind her. Ara’s face was tight with worry and she made Ben explain the entire incident over again. She wanted to examine him, but he put his foot down.
“Everyone’s looking, Mom,” he muttered. “And I’m not hurt that bad.”
Ched-Hisak hooted and clattered his teeth. Ben, who had grown up on Bellerophon among the Ched-Balaar, understood the words better than many adult Children, though he had no more hope of reproducing the sounds than he did of sprouting wings and flying.
“I am sure we can take him to a doctor if his pain persists,” Ched-Hisak was saying firmly. “We have other matters for discussion.”
To Ben’s intense relief, Mom nodded. “Why don’t you get hold of the dorm and see if Dorna’s gone back to her room? I’ll talk to the others.”
Ben shook off Mom’s guiding hand and took a chair on his own. She pursed her lips but didn’t comment as she turned to Kendi.
“You said Dorna was in the Dream when you left it,” she stated. “But Ben says she attacked him before you woke up. That means there’s an overlap. Her body was awake and moving around even though her mind was in the Dream, is that right?”
Kendi nodded. “I guess. I thought that couldn’t happen.”
“It can’t,” Mom said shortly. “But maybe we can get a clue as to what happened. Start at the beginning, all of you, and tell me exactly what was going on. Why were you all in the Dream together? For practice?”
They all nodded in unison. Ben found himself drifting off, probably a side-effect of the painkillers. He was vaguely aware of Father Ched-Hisak rejoining the group and telling them that Dorna didn’t seem to be in her room or anywhere near the dormitory and that he’d ordered a search. Ben drifted again, soothed by the Ched-Balaar’s gentle presence. A startled shout from Mom brought him awake again.
“You split yourself?” she said incredulously. “How?”
“By accident,” Kendi protested. “I didn’t mean to.”
“A powerful thing,” Ched-Hisak mused. “It will require much further study.”
“Was that when Dorna woke up, then?” Mom asked.
Kendi squirmed. “Not exactly.”
“Go on, then,” Mom said, and Ben recognized the danger in her voice. He wanted to come to Kendi’s defense, but knew from experience that such a gesture would only make her angrier, so he remained silent. So did the other students.
Kendi falteringly explained how he had decided to go back into the Dream to see if he could call up the falcon again. Mom’s face got darker with every word until she finally exploded.
“What were you thinking?” she shouted. “Good lord, Kendi—you haven’t even been entering the Dream for a week and already you’re experimenting with things no one knows anything about? Do you know how foolish that is? How stupid? What if you split your mind and couldn’t bring it back together? There would have been no one there to help you.”
“I’m sorry,” Kendi said meekly. “It just felt so...right that it didn’t occur to me that anything could go wrong with it.”
“And you—” She rounded on Ben. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I tried,” Ben said hotly. “But you weren’t available. Neither was Father Ched-Hisak or Grandfather Melthine. We couldn’t get hold of anybody at all.”
“Then you should have waited,” Mom snapped. “You should have—”
Ched-Hisak placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mother Ara,” he clattered, “we do have other things to worry about. Perhaps many beratements can come later?”
Mom looked like she was going to say more, then apparently thought the better of it. “Right,” she said.
Father Ched-Hisak turned to the students. His eyes were wise and gentle, and even though he was the size of a small horse, he somehow didn’t look imposing or seem like he was filling a fair chunk of the living room. For some reason, Ben found himself wondering what it would be like to have Father Ched-Hisak as his dad. The Ched-Balaar kept his head at human level and turned his gaze on Ben.
“Would you translate for those who understand not all my words well?” he chattered. Ben nodded, and Father Ched-Hisak continued. “Did any of you notice anything so odd about Dorna? Anything she said or did to seem strange?”
Ben translated and Jeren snorted. “This is stupid,” he said. “We’re all Silent. We’re all weird in one way or another.”
“We need to think, Jeren,” Willa said.
“Look, I just want to go home before it fucking rains again, okay? Why don’t you ask her teacher?”
“We will do this thing, Jeren, but now we must have you think,” Father Ched-Hisak said with Ben’s translation coming a sentence behind. “An odd thing happened here and we need to find the bottom of it. To repeat: have any of you noticed anything so odd about Dorna?”
Jeren rolled his eyes and the others thought. “Last week,” Kendi said slowly, “she said she was having trouble sleeping because she had nightmares about people dying in the Dream.”
“I remember that,” Ben put in, glad to contribute something more than just translation. “You also said she talked funny. And there was that weird stuff she said when she woke up and hit me.”
”That’s right!” Kendi snapped his fingers. “Sometimes Dorna changes the way she talks. As if she were someone...someone...” He trailed off.
“Yes?” Mom said.
“Something’s bugging me,” Kendi said. His eyes tracked over empty air. “The way Dorna talked. It reminded me of someone, but I can’t quite place—” He bolted upright on the couch. “Buck. Sometimes she talks like Buck.”
Ara blinked at him, puzzled. “Who’s Buck?”
“A guy we met in the Dream,” Kendi said. “He gave me pointers on my falcon. And then that Zelda woman showed up.” He gave further detail about them.
“Kendi,” Father Ched-Hisak said intently, “you said you attempted to locate Dorna but found her in a pair of places.”
“Yeah. And once I tried to tag someone I thought was her but it turned out to be Zelda. Another time I thought I had her and it was Buck.”
“I wish this to be clear. You were sure you felt Dorna but you found someone else both times. You also felt her in pairs of places at the same time.”
Kendi nodded. Father Ched-Hisak settled back on his haunches with a grumbling, muttering noise that Ben recognized as a symptom of careful thought among the Ched-Balaar, though he decided not to translate that.
“I have made studies of human psychology,” Father Ched-Hisak said half to himself. “Humans have varied and fascinating reactions to tragedy so different from members of my species. I think this is one of those reactions.”
“What do you mean, Father?” Mom asked before Ben could translate.
“It is possible,” Ched-Hisak clattered slowly, “that your Dorna has a psychological problem known to humans as—” But the rest of the sentence was lost even to Ben.
“I’m sorry, Father,” Ben told him. “I don’t know those words.”
“Dissociative identity disorder,” Mom supplied. “How do you know, Father?”
“I don’t,” Father Ched-Hisak admitted. “I only suspect. However, it would explain many things.”
“What’s dishie—dissipate—” Kite said.
“Dissociative identity disorder,” Mom repeated. “It means multiple personalities.” When her words met with further blank looks, she continued. “Some people who suffer terrible abuse as children retreat into their own heads. The things that their parent—or parents—do to them are so horrible that the children can’t believe it’s truly happening, so they create other people for them to happen to. The creation is so complete that they actually become someone else, and the alternate personality takes the memory of the abuse.”
“So there are other people living in Dorna’s head,” Willa said softly.
“Possibly. I’m not convinced,” Mom said.
“It would explain a great much,” Father Ched-Hisak chattered. “If Dorna has more than one self, it would make sense that she would have more than one Dream self. When we visit the Dream, after all, we become only what we believe we are. It would explain also why Kendi felt more than one Dorna—there was more than one Dorna, truly.”
“And it would explain why her speech patterns changed,” Kendi said excitedly. Then he deflated a little. “Wait. I asked her about it—why I felt more than one of her. She said she had no idea, and you can’t lie in the Dream.”
“That is not correct,” Father Ched-Hisak said gently. “A Silent can tell an untruth in the Dream if she believes it to be true. I think Dorna remains unaware of the other personalities. She did not lie. She told the truth as she knew it.”
“But why would she be able to get up and leave before she—or whatever personalities—left the Dream?” Mom objected.
“Human minds are powerful,” Father Ched-Hisak said. “I have read of people with many personalities doing similar things. It is quite common for one personality to drink heavily, for example, and leave the other personalities unaffected completely. If many of Dorna’s personalities are in the Dream, one left behind might take body control.”
“She said that,” Ben put in after translated Father Ched-Hisak’s words. “She said something about being in control now and keeping it.” He shuddered involuntarily. “She’s insane, then?”
“This is a bad word,” Father Ched-Hisak said. “If we are correct, Dorna has many difficult problems. We shall say only that.”
Mom, who had slumped into a chair, sat bolt upright. “Father, are people with multiple personalities violent?”
“Often there is a violent personality, or two, or three.”
“I have a call to make, and then I’ll have to leave. Ben, you and Kendi stay here. The rest of you can go or stay as you like, but stay out of the Dream.” She got up and left the room without a backward glance. Ben watched her go with a grim expression. His mother always left without a backward glance.
oOo
Ara paced outside the door to Dorna’s dormitory room, her mind moving furiously. Dorna Saline. Third year student, average grades, student of Mother Ched-Maruk.
Serial killer?
It made dreadful sense. They had been looking for a man because serial killers were usually male and the victims in this case were women. The fact that the killer could change shape in the Dream enough to hide facial features had gone right past both Ara and Tan. If the killer could change a face, how difficult would it be to change gender?
The vast majority of Silent were stuck with their own shapes in the Dream because that was what their subconscious minds expected. And a mind that thought of itself—or one part of itself—as male would take at least one male shape in the Dream, Ara thought grimly.
Was this how Kendi had split himself? Kendi had largely grown up in what he called “mutant society” but was trying almost desperately to get back to his Real People roots. Had living in two worlds combined with powerful Silence to allow him multiple Dream forms?
Soft footsteps came up the hallway carpet and Inspector Lewa Tan approached, a computer pad in her hand and an intense expression on her face.
“Got the warrant,” she said without preamble and pressed the computer pad to the door’s electronic lock. “It was a real trick getting it. Dorna’s only crime is hitting your son and there’s no proof she’s done anything else. Lucky I have an uncle on the bench. Baran, release lock on authority of Guardian Lewa Tan. Warranted search.”
“Scanning warrant,” the computer said. “Access granted.”
The lock clicked open. Tan drew on a pair of gloves and hurried inside. Ara followed.
Dorna Saline’s small room was perfectly tidy. Desk, computer pad, chair, bed, balcony door. No wall decorations or houseplants on the stark white walls. After a quick glance around, Ara knelt by the bed and Tan opened the wardrobe.
“Nothing under here,” Ara reported. “Not even dust. Should I strip the bed?”
“We’ll get some techs to do that.” Hangers scraped the rollbar as Tan leafed through hanging blouses. “We’re doing an overview right now. Check the desk, will you?”
Ara moved to obey. “Where’s Linus?”
“Coming. He was—shit!”
“What?” Ara spun to face her. “What is it?”
Tan wordlessly held out a pale green blouse with long sleeves. The cuff showed a small red stain.
“Blood?” Ara said.
“Maybe.” Tan whipped a small scanner from her pocket and ran it over the spot. “Definitely.”
“Whose?”
“This scanner doesn’t have the memory to hold that kind of database. It might be hers, of course.”
“Or someone else’s. Do we keep looking?”
Tan eyed her. “You think just because we find one potential clue, we stop searching? Welcome to the tedious side of Guardian work, Mother Ara. Let’s get to it.”
The two of them set back to work.