Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Dream

The jailer is also a prisoner, and he is jealous of the prisoner’s dreams.

—Nerval d. Darge, Diary of a Social Dissident

It was cold, and the red cracks in the Dream fabric around Sejal offered only a dim light. He could feel the minds in this place—over thirty of them—and they were hungry. Now, however, he knew it wasn’t a physical hunger, but a spiritual one, a desperate, horrible feeling of loneliness and separation. He could see outside the darkness to the well-light plain beyond. The plain was safe and pain-free and filled with other minds. This was what the children longed for, reached toward. The fact that they could see but not touch it only made the feeling worse.

The wailing was quieter in the dark place. Perhaps it was because the children’s rage and pain were directed outward. Their minds flowed around Sejal, cold shadows in a black hole. Icy fingers touched his face and neck. Sejal recoiled, but the fingers didn’t draw away. More touches—hands, fingers, lips, and tongues that flickered over him. Sejal forced himself to remain stock-still, like a man confronting a strange dog that might decide to tear out his throat.

A few steps away, Katsu was dancing. She moved like a young tree waving in an angry wind. She moved toward him, pivoting and swaying, clearly well-practiced. As she approached, the minds around Sejal calmed. He felt from them something akin to admiration, even solace. They liked her. But before she could speak, one of the minds broke away. It flashed toward the boundary of the Dream and the dark place. Snarling gleefully, two more tensed themselves to follow. The ground rumbled.

“No!” Katsu cried, and without thinking, Sejal’s mind snapped out. He reached for escapee just as he had reached for Say. Here in the Dream, however, the action took a physical manifestation. A golden thread snaked from Sejal’s outstretched hand. The other end wrapped itself around the fleeing shadow. The shadow stiffened and halted less than a fingerlength from the boundary.

Katsu sighed with relief, though she continued to sway to music that only she could hear. “This is why I need you. There are so many. If I stop long enough to chase down the ones that break away, the others—”

The shadow yanked on Sejal’s thread. He the sudden pain drove him to his knees. Blind fury and all-consuming hunger flooded Sejal’s mind. He was flashing on the shadow, feeling what it felt. The thread flickered and weakened. The shadow yanked again and Sejal gasped in pain and confusion. No one had ever been able to fight him before. He touched people as he pleased, made them do what he wanted.

But, a part of him realized, these weren’t normal people. They were like him. Their DNA had been given to them by the same father and shaped by the same retrovirus.

Hands landed on his head, warm and friendly. Katsu. Sejal drew strength from her, braced himself, and pulled back on the thread. The gold thread thickened. Screaming in hostility, the shadow was dragged back from the boundary. Katsu left Sejal and danced toward it. The loneliness from the other shadows lessened a bit at the sight of her graceful movements. She caressed the bound shadow and it calmed.

Another one used the distraction to leap away, but Sejal had felt its tension and another thread whipped outward to catch it. It fought, clawing and snarling, until Katsu was able to calm it down like she had the first. The others swarmed about uncertainly.

“How many can you hold?” Katsu asked.

“I don’t know,” Sejal replied through gritted teeth. “I could take a dozen regular people without working up a sweat, but this is something else. How many are there?”

Katsu glanced into the blackness. The red cracks formed glowing, distorted ladders in every direction, and the weird light made her face take on a spectral aspect.

“Thirty-seven,” she said.

Something shifted, and the darkness rippled slightly.

“Thirty-six,” Katsu amended. “Father and mother must have—”

A crashing howl broke over them. Betrayal and anger and the constant overwhelming hunger smashed at Sejal as the twisted children screamed in unified fury. Five shadows rushed away. Sejal lashed out with more threads. He caught one, two, three. But the other two broke free of the darkness and raced across the plain. The ground cracked and crumbled beneath their feet. The sky darkened as they swallowed the minds that made up the Dream plain. Katsu dashed after them, quick as a fox. She caught one by the heel, and the second stopped to see what had happened. Katsu caught that one as well. Her touch, as always, brought them some kind of comfort and she was able to bring them back. They followed her, twisting clouds of darkness and gray mist. It came to Sejal that the children had no personal physical picture of themselves, which was why they remained amorphous in the Dream.

As Katsu and her two captives re-entered the dark place, there was another delicate shudder. One of the minds Sejal had bound disappeared. Prasad and his mother had put another child into cryo-sleep. Thirty-five left. The red lattices glowed with suspicion. The children knew something was wrong, but they didn’t know what it was. Sejal hoped Mom and Prasad would be able to finish the job before they figured it out. The children he held in the threads were quieter, but they were whispering to the others around them, and Sejal couldn’t make out their words. He glanced uneasily at Katsu, who shook her head.

“I can’t quite hear them, either,” she said.

The blackness shifted, and a familiar cry rang overhead. Sejal looked up sharply and saw the falcon. In desperation she had pierced the black place. Instantly, one of the children lashed out and caught her. The falcon shrieked in pain.

“No!” Sejal yelled. “Let her go!”

Another thread snapped out and wrapped around the grasping child. It released the falcon, who dove down to land at Sejal’s feet. The child drew away, hissing softly. Sejal reached down to stroke the falcon’s feathers. She made soft meeping sounds.

“Who is this?” Katsu demanded.

“It’s part of...of a friend of mine,” Sejal told her. “He’s in trouble, but you needed me more so I came here instead.”

Another shudder. Another child disappeared.

“Listen,” Sejal said, “Kendi must be desperate if his falcon came in here to look for me. He...I really want to help him. Can you hold them back for just a few minutes?”

Katsu looked at him for a long time. Then she backed away and started to dance. It was a faster dance, one with a clear rhythm. Her feet struck the dark ground, and she twisted between the red slashes cut into the Dream fabric around them. The movements were lovely and hypnotic. Sejal stared, then noticed the children had calmed considerably. He also noticed the sweat appearing on Katsu’s face. This dance was clearly costing her a lot of effort. He had better move quickly.

He released his captives. The threads vanished, but the children didn’t seem to notice. They were watching Katsu. Sejal put the falcon on his shoulder and wove between the red lattices toward the boundary. The moment he was clear of the dark place, the falcon exploded from his shoulder and fled across the plain.

Sejal ran after her. He hadn’t gone fifty meters before he saw the stone block. It was about twice Sejal’s height and six or seven meters on a side with no openings. The falcon circled over it, crying in its high, shrill voice. Sejal put out a hand. The moment he touched the block’s icy solidity, he felt Kendi. His empathy switched on, and Sejal was caught in a wash of terror and...guilt? The falcon shrieked again.

“Kendi!” Sejal shouted. “Kendi! It’s Sejal.”

No response. Sejal’s empathy switched off. What was going on? Could one Silent imprison another? He had never heard of such a thing, but that didn’t mean much. For all his power, Sejal was still new to the Dream.

A sense of urgency tightened his chest. Katsu was holding the children back all by herself, and she must be getting tired. He had to help Kendi and get back to her. He hit the block with a fist, and yelped in pain. Nursing bruised knuckles, he next concentrated on his body. It was solid now, but when he reached toward the block, it would be insubstantial. It would be insubstantial now.

Sejal reached. He encountered solid stone.

“Dammit!” he spat. “Kendi! Let me in!”

The block remained unmoved. Frustrated, Sejal kicked it, though not hard enough to damage his foot. No reaction. Katsu would be more tired now. Perhaps he should give up and leave. Perhaps he should—

Then he felt it. Another familiar mind, one that wasn’t in the Dream but was nearby nonetheless.

“Ben,” Sejal whispered.

He had always gotten the impression that Ben and Kendi were close friends, though Kendi had almost never talked about him. Ben might better know what to do. Sejal closed his eyes, feeling for Ben’s mind. When he found it, he reached.

 oOo

Ben looked down worriedly at Kendi, lying motionless on the bed in the empty cabin. It seemed like Ben had done this too many times before. Kendi was always falling into trouble. Getting arrested, being abducted into the Dream by Sejal, going suicidal on Bellerophon. Now Kendi was spending time in the Dream when it was dangerous to do so, and according to Ben’s watch, he’d been in there far too long.

Ben sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He should walk away, sever all ties completely instead of waffling back and forth. A relationship with Kendi meant spending a lot of time waiting for him, and Ben hated the very idea. But then he would look at Kendi’s face and his resolve invariably failed him. Kendi was infuriating, irreverent, and impulsive. He was also funny, kind, and suprisingly romantic. He could always think of something fun to do when Ben got bogged down by work. And Ben never felt like he had to be so damned competent at everything when Kendi was around.

Kendi’s face was relaxed in Dream sleep. Ben brushed his fingers over the smooth dark forehead. Maybe a little worry was all right. Concentrating on Kendi was one way to keep thoughts about his mother at bay. Maybe he should try to wake Kendi up, bring him out the—

~Ben.~

Ben’s head snapped up. “Who’s there?”

~Ben, it’s me. Sejal.~

“Sejal?” Ben echoed stupidly. “Where are you? What’s—?”

~I’m in the Dream. I’m talking to you from the Dream.~

Ben blinked. “How can you talk to me from the Dream? I’m not Silent. What is this, a joke?”

~Ben, I don’t have time to screw around. I can’t leave Katsu alone much longer. Kendi needs help, but I can’t reach him.~

Chill fear stabbed through Ben. He glanced over at Kendi, who hadn’t moved or otherwise changed.

“What do you mean he’s in trouble?” Ben demanded.

~He’s inside some kind of stone block and I can’t get him out. The falcon is screaming bloody murder, but I don’t know what to do. Can you get him out?~

“I’ll try.” Ben leaned over Kendi and shook him. “Kendi, wake up! Snap out of it!” No response. He slapped Kendi’s cheeks and pinched his wrists. Still no response.

~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.