Dreamweaver

by C. S. Friedman

  There was a tea set on the table, and she poured three cups full as she said, “You’ve been granted safe passage to address this afternoon’s Council session.”

  “Thank you.”

  She handed a cup to me and another to Seyer. “Now tell me about your meeting with Antonin.”

  “He said he’ll support the lifting of the death sentence on Dreamwalkers, in return for us not challenging his Guild for control of the Gates. There won’t be any restriction on communication, which is more of what our Gift is about anyway, so for us it’s a good deal,” I dropped a sugar cube into my tea, “though maybe not as much as his enemies would hope for.”

  “If we can set up a method of communication between the worlds that the Shadows don’t control, many things become possible. You did well.”

  I shrugged. “It’s all just theoretical until the ban is lifted. No Dreamwalker is going to help with communication—or anything else—while there’s still a death sentence hanging over all our heads.”

  She nodded. “Antonin raised that issue in Council this morning. He said that his Guild had discovered evidence that suggested only a small fraction of Dreamwalkers ever suffered from madness, and those were all killed in the Dream Wars. So, the ones who are alive today should be no threat to anyone.”

  So Antonin had come through for me. “Good to know. How was his statement received?”

  “Discussion is ongoing. We’ll be resuming this afternoon.” She paused. “It was certainly convenient. Imagine discovering such evidence on the very day you were scheduled to address the Council.”

  “That is indeed a remarkable coincidence,” I agreed carefully.

  “They asked me to verify it.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “And?”

  She smiled slightly. “It has the proper appearance for its age. And Antonin seemed to be telling the truth about it.”

  “Also good to know.” I sipped my tea, letting the cup mask my expression. “So what’s left before you all make a decision?”

  “The Council wants to hear your petition on Terra Colonna before they vote on the Dreamwalker ban. Remember, most of them have never seen a Dreamwalker. You are a creature of legend to them, and a frightening legend at that. Since the entire argument about your status hinges on the question of mental stability, they no doubt want to get a feel for yours.”

  “So now I’m the poster child for my Gift.”

  “A colorful way of putting it, but yes, that seems to be the case.” She sipped her tea. “When you asked me to speak to the Council about Terra Colonna, you didn’t yet have a plan to offer them. Do you now?”

  “I think so. It’s a bit out of the box, but if it wasn’t, they would already have considered it.” I hesitated. “If I fail, and a Cleansing is approved . . .” I couldn’t finish the thought.

  “Your family will be welcome here,” she said quietly. “We’ll bring across the ones you love. They’ll be safe on Terra Prime.”

  Yes, but seven billion other people won’t be. “Your Grace . . . may I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  I put my cup down. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I understand the Guild politics involved. But it seems to me there’s more going on than that. You seem way too invested in this for it to be only about politics.”

  She smiled slightly. “Are you playing the Seer now?”

  “I’m playing someone who’s about to make her first public appearance as a Dreamwalker. People are normally put to death for that. Don’t I deserve to know what the real game is?”

  A corner of her mouth twitched. “Fair enough.” She sipped again from her cup and then lowered it. “Your Gift is very similar to ours. Seers sense the secrets that are in a man’s waking mind, while you sense the secrets that are in his dreams. Because of that similarity, Dreamwalker births are much more common among Seers than they are in the general population. Not a year passes without some member of my Guild giving birth to a child who has the potential to develop your Gift . . . and who must be put down for it.”

  “Jesus,” I whispered.

  “When you were born to me, when I held you in my arms, when I sensed the seed of the forbidden Gift in you, I thought: Enough. It’s time for our sacrifices to end.” She paused for a moment, maybe waiting for me to respond to this new revelation, but thanks to Sebastian I’d been prepared for it, and my expression revealed nothing. “I had long suspected that the tales of Dreamwalker madness were false, but I had no proof. I believed you could test that for me. And so I hid you away, and when you were old enough for your Gift to manifest, I placed challenges in your path. I tested your mettle. I gave you reason to seek out others of your kind, because only someone with your Gift could find them. And I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth until now, but first I had to know you were strong enough to handle such a secret.” She paused. “You are, without question.”

  I stared at her in disbelief for a moment. Then turned away. “Crap,” I muttered.

  A delicate eyebrow arched upward. “Why ‘crap’?”

  “Because all this time I’ve resented you for how you used me. I thought you were nothing but a cold-hearted manipulative bitch. Now you tell me it was all about saving babies.” I shook my head.

  A faint smile. “Well, one can be a cold-hearted manipulative bitch and also a mother. The roles aren’t mutually exclusive. And it wasn’t all about saving babies.” She put her empty cup aside. “I’ve laid out some clothes for you upstairs, which should fit. Go choose something appropriate for the Council meeting. We need to start getting ready; the afternoon session will begin soon.”

  “Why can’t I wear the clothes I’ve got on?”

  “They look like you’ve slept in them for a week. Probably because you have slept in them for a week. You need to present yourself to the Guildmasters as a peer, Jessica. If the ban is lifted, that’s how they’ll see you: a Guildmaster in function, if not in name.”

  “No,” I said. “Not a Guildmaster. I am not going to become part of your—”

  “Miriam,” she said sweetly, “take your sister upstairs and help her choose something to wear, won’t you?”

  Seyer put down her own cup and stood. I stared at her for a minute, then shook my head in exasperation and followed her lead.

  “Something nice,” Morgana called out, as we left the room. “And be timely about it. We need to leave soon.”

  In the hallway I muttered to Seyer, “Something black, please.”

  She smiled. “Already laid out.”

  Morgana told me that the Guildmasters of Luray normally met around a large circular table, but when I was led into the meeting room I saw that part of it had been removed so that a small podium could be placed there instead. The arrangement put me between the arms of a large curved crescent, with thirteen of the most powerful people in Luray seated around it. Far more intimidating than anything I’d ever had to face.

  The attendant who led me in guided me to the podium, where I saw that a glass of water and a copy of the contamination assessment had been provided. As I took my place, he announced, “Jessica Drake, Master Dreamwalker of Terra Colonna.” Apparently I’d gotten a promotion.

  And then there I was, facing the thirteen people who would decide not only my fate but the fate of my entire world. I had chosen a pair of slim black denim pants for the occasion, with a matching silk tank and a wine-colored vest, but now I was regretting that choice. In theory it had seemed the perfect outfit for a midsummer Council presentation, but now I was afraid that one of these people would see the goosebumps that were forming on my bare arms. Around my neck I wore Mom’s two rings on a chain, for luck, and I’d tucked my fake wren feather into the upswept hairdo that Miriam had insisted I adopt; I took a moment to draw strength from those things. These people are not all strangers to me, I reminded myself. Directly across from me sat the head Fl
eshcrafter, his six golden arms arranged symmetrically, like the limbs of a Hindu god. He smiled at me ever so slightly, a subtle gesture of encouragement, and I remembered how he had received me when I’d presented information to him in his own guildhall, to convince him to help my mother. So, at least one person here viewed me in a positive light. Then there was Morgana two seats over from him, with Antonin seated at one end of a pincer. He’d come through on the forged evidence, so it was likely he’d support me now, which made two more on my side—unless I totally screwed up—for a total of three. I only needed seven supporters to carry the day. Suddenly my task didn’t seem quite so impossible.

  I drank some water, cleared my throat, silently voiced a prayer to any god who was listening, and began.

  “Guildmasters and mistresses of Luray. I thank you for giving me this opportunity to address you. My name is Jessica Drake, and I come here today to address the issue of Terra Colonna. Recently my home world was declared a threat to Terra Prime’s interests, because various factions on my world had caught wind of the changeling program. As they compared notes and launched an investigation into the matter, it was feared they would discover the truth about Terra Colonna’s portals and gain access to them.

  “I agree that this would be a disaster. My world has many violent factions, some armed with weapons that could wreak havoc here. And the fragmented nature of Terra Colonna’s society means that it would be difficult—if not impossible—to impose any kind of global restrictions on my world, or establish a treaty that all would respect. Hence, it was decided that the best way to deal with the threat was to Cleanse Terra Colonna, so that it was no longer a threat to anyone.”

  I paused. “I’ve come here today to present a third option. One which will protect not only Terra Colonna, but other worlds as well. Yes, the contamination assessment assures us that any damage would be within acceptable parameters . . . but there would still be damage. The destruction of a world by any means, anywhere, impacts all the spheres in its cluster.” I paused. “If that weren’t the case, no contamination study would be necessary.”

  I took another drink of water, not because I was thirsty so much as to buy me a second to settle my nerves. “My proposal is simple. Withdraw all your people from Terra Colonna. Dismantle the Gates. Remove from my world every physical sign of your presence, from the stockpiles of carefully labeled bodies to the high tech archways, down to the piles of travel waivers. All of it. Then . . . shut down the portals. Quarantine my world for a set period of time and leave my people to their own devices. Let them investigate the changelings as much as they want—even inspect the locations where portals once existed. There will be nothing there to find. It won’t even matter if their investigation does turn up evidence that other worlds exist. They could stumble over a guidebook explaining the operations of the Gates and describing Terra Prime in detail, and it still wouldn’t help them. Without the portals, it’s all just paranoid fiction.

  “All your solutions thus far have focused on keeping my people from learning the truth. I say, let them learn it, if they can. And after years of banging their heads against a wall in an attempt to verify it, they will declare it fictional of their own accord and move on to other things. Oh, a few conspiracy nuts will persist, but those types are easily discredited . . . at least as far as the authorities are concerned. Then the blockade can be lifted and normalcy restored.” I paused. “Meanwhile, the dying cries of a murdered civilization will not have poisoned a thousand other worlds. Including yours.”

  Silence.

  “That’s all I came to say,” I told them. “Please consider it as an option.”

  A Guildmaster sitting across from me said harshly, “This plan assumes we have the power to shut down all the portals on a given world.”

  “You do. You did it on Terra Fuentes when the plastic plague hit. I don’t know enough about your science to speak to the details of the process, but obviously when the need is judged great enough, quarantine is possible.”

  The Fleshcrafter said, “How long would you recommend such a blockade be maintained?”

  “I’d suggest ten years. It shouldn’t require more than that, especially since the governments of many countries of my world have rapid turnover. Leaders of today who might consider the search for interworld portals a priority would give way to those who see it only as a pointless drain on their budgets. Oh, conspiracy theorists might persist, but they wouldn’t have the backing they’d need to get around your normal precautions. The Greys are masters of misdirection.” I nodded respectfully toward the Grey at the table; he seemed pleased by the compliment. “Aliens and demons are so much easier to blame for this kind of thing than invisible worlds.”

  Antonin said, “If we do this, how can you be sure we will not cut off your world permanently?”

  Ah, that was the question, wasn’t it? Permanent quarantine would indeed solve all our problems with Terra Prime. But it would also condemn Terra Colonna to permanent isolation. Shut off from all outside contact, my world would soon be forgotten, a mere footnote to history. And if someday the Guilds came to accept the enlightenment of other worlds—as I believed they eventually must—Terra Colonna would likely remain forgotten, an island of ignorance isolated from the thriving multiverse surrounding it. Forever.

  I, Jessica Drake, did not have the right to impose that sentence upon my world.

  I braced myself to look directly into Antonin’s black, empty eyes. “First, because Terra Colonna’s gene pool produces many Gifted children, and you would lose access to them. Isn’t that why you were so involved with our world in the first place? Because so many Gifted children are born there? And second, because there are Gifts that allow for communication between worlds, independent of physical passage. People with those Gifts might not appreciate being cut off from others of their own kind forever.”

  Jeez. Had he just manipulated me into threatening them? Or had he simply voiced what everyone was thinking anyway—that Dreamwalkers on Terra Colonna could never be cut off completely, and if our world was not treated fairly, those of my Gift who lived elsewhere might be displeased.

  “Look,” I said, “Terra Colonna may be the first world to offer this kind of threat, but it won’t be the last. Numerous worlds are in the process of developing advanced DNA technology. Are you going to destroy every civilization that catches a glimpse of the truth? The universe is going to become a very small place if you do that. So . . . consider Terra Colonna an experiment of sorts. See if this is a viable solution. If so, you can apply elsewhere. If not . . .” I shrugged. “The nuclear option will still be on the table in ten years. All you’d be agreeing to do is try something else first.”

  The Fleshcrafter folded two of his hands on the table. “I assume you’re volunteering to report on the progress of your world? Because a quarantine would make our normal methods impossible.”

  So much for getting away from these people, I thought. But he was right; they would need some way to evaluate Terra Colonna before a quarantine could be lifted, and unless they wanted to exile someone to my world for ten years, I was the obvious choice. And this would establish a unique service that Dreamwalkers could provide to the other Guilds, which might play favorably in the debate about our legitimacy. “Of course.”

  There was silence again. “Any more questions?” I asked.

  A Guildmaster whose name I didn’t know said, “Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us, Miss Drake. We’ll discuss the points you’ve raised in private Council.”

  It was clearly a dismissal, so I bowed my head with what I hoped was appropriate grace and somehow managed to walk out. My legs were shaking so badly that as soon as I got outside the room I had to lean against a wall to steady myself.

  “This way.” An attendant outside the chamber was pointing to a nearby door. “You can wait in here.”

  I let him guide me to a waiting room outfitted with comfortable cha
irs and coffee. I couldn’t sit still, and I didn’t think caffeine was a good idea, so I paced. And waited. And paced. And waited.

  Just about the time when I started wondering if I might not go crazy after all, the door opened. It was Morgana.

  “Yes?” I asked. My voice was shaking. “Please say yes.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Which one?’”

  “Both. Ten years of isolation for your home world will be proposed to the National Council, after which the situation will be assessed. More time will be added if necessary, with periodic reassessment.” She paused. “I expect soon we’ll have to consider bringing the more advanced worlds into our circle, as opposed to trying to keep them perpetually in the dark. As you so eloquently pointed out, the latter isn’t likely to work much longer. Once the need for secrecy disappears, so will the need for your quarantine.”

  “And the Dreamwalkers?”

  “Your suggestion regarding the sort of service they might provide was well received. There was some concern that without a proper Guild structure, your first generation would have little guidance. We’re assuming your hidden allies would want to stay hidden, so there would be no one other than yourself to train new Dreamwalkers, or teach them how the Gifted are expected to behave. I volunteered the Seers for that purpose, until such time as there are enough adult Dreamwalkers to take over.” She smiled at me. “Is this acceptable?”

  I found myself speechless. You just took control of all the Dreamwalkers. You get to train an entire generation of them, indoctrinating them into the Seer’s culture, molding them into your pawns. Could this be what you really wanted all along? ‘Saving the babies,’ my ass. But what was the alternative? The Council was right. You couldn’t have children manifesting a Gift and not offer them some kind of support.