The Dreamer Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set Vol I - III: A Sci-Fi Parallel Universe Adventure (The Dreamer Chronicles - Science Fiction For Kids And Adults)

by Robert Scanlon

  “Do you remember the construction of the wall? That will be a vital clue for my men,” Agent Blanchard said.

  She squeezed her eyes tight and tried to focus on the wall. Brick—but large bricks. “The wall was some kind of extra-large brick. Grey I think. It was hard to tell in the dark. Only a few lights were working.”

  “Lights? Can you describe them?”

  She shook her head. “Just a few bare bulbs hanging from long wire, I think. Nothing to describe really.” She straightened in the lounge chair. “Hold on. The crates. The one the Prof is sitting on—he’s tied with ropes and he has something stuffed in his mouth—there’s something on the crate. A marking—”

  “A logo? Words? What colour—” Nathan interrupted.

  “Shhh, Nathan. I’m getting there.” She was starting to shake with the effort. Deliberately remembering a nightmare was bad enough, but one with rats that tore at her skin? Ughh. “It’s no use, I can’t make it out. Maybe there’s a word? Tent? I can’t see anything else.” She opened her eyes and slumped back, exhausted.

  Agent Blanchard nodded at her. “Thank you, Miss Metcalfe. Those details may well help. Perhaps the warehouse used to be used for camping equip—”

  “Look!” Nathan pointed at the television, high up on the café wall. It was always switched on, but usually no-one took any notice.

  In fact, Sarina thought, the kids usually had it tuned to a music video channel. Agent Blanchard or Nathan must have switched it to the news channel.

  The sound was off, but Nathan had dived for the remote control.

  Showing on the screen was the photo of a small girl, looking quite scared, but resolute.

  Lena.

  The TV blared as Nathan found the volume. “—REFUSES TO TALK TO ANYONE SHE DOESN’T KNOW. APPARENTLY HER Daddy is in danger.”—Nathan adjusted the volume—“Anyone who knows this girl is instructed to call Chelton police urgently.” The newscaster repeated the number shown on the screen, as the camera panned to the area where the police had found the girl.

  Nathan jumped up and muted the television. “I know that area! There used to be a storage warehouse around there somewhere. It was called”—his brow creased—“Tenkinson’s. That was the name on the crate. Not ‘Tent’. I think I know where it is. Big brick warehouse.”

  Agent Blanchard actually smiled. “Good work, Master Goldberg. We will need to act quickly, before anyone else who knows Lena contacts the police. In fact, that should be me.” He looked at Sarina. “Miss Metcalfe. You’ve done enough. My men can move in now we have narrowed down a possible location. I will make arrangements for you to be collected, as we agreed, and I will have you and your mother flown to Paris for the artist’s creative workshop. Would that be acceptable?”

  Sarina nodded, grateful.

  The Agent looked at her. “You understand I have some urgent things that must be attended to first? I don’t want to cause any panic among the children due to arrive here, in case they’ve heard about the Professor and Lena. You will be a calming influence on them. Would you be willing to help?”

  Sarina nodded. Ha! Calming influence? But Agent Blanchard was right. If any of the kids had seen Lena on the news ... And anyway, it would do her good to try to find some inner calmness. Help her deal with her ... problem.

  Nathan cleared his throat. “Ahem. I can help too.” He looked at Blanchard with bright eyes.

  Sarina rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly.

  “Yes, you can, Master Goldberg. Take this”—he handed Nathan the spare mobile phone he had previously tried to give to Sarina—“and go to where you think the warehouse is located. We need to be able to shut the collider down even if the Professor is incapacitated, so I may need your help. My men will take a few minutes to regroup from where they are now, and there is a good chance you will be first on the scene. When you locate the building, do nothing, just call me to confirm you have the correct place. I will have my men meet you.”

  Nathan jumped back up. “You bet! I’ll use my skateboard. I know a few shortcuts and alleyways that your cars won’t be able to use—I’ll easily beat your men. It shouldn’t take me long!” He dashed off to his room.

  Sarina turned to the Agent. “I’ll get my things and wait in the foyer. It will be better for the kids to see a bright face when they arrive.”

  The Agent nodded. “Good thinking, Miss Metcalfe. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  They parted and Sarina returned to her room to pick up her bag. She’d ask Agent Blanchard to make sure her mother had all her art gear—and Rona’s pastels!—and finally she could get on with her life again. Agent Blanchard and his team were well equipped to handle everything from here, and Nathan was on hand to help. She remembered Nathan’s excitement. She would warn him. This was a serious operation and any meddling by a twelve-year old boy wouldn’t go down well. The last time he’d tried a daring operation with her, they’d ended up in a police cell.

  She got to the foyer, just as Nathan sped past on his skateboard.

  “Bye, Sarina! Good luck!”

  She grabbed him and pulled him off his board.

  “Hey! What’s that for?” He pulled a face.

  “Just a warning, Nathan. Promise me you won’t do anything when you get there other than call Agent Blanchard.”

  “Well, I can—”

  “Promise!”

  He looked downcast. “It’s all very well for you to say. The FBI is about to fly you by helicopter to Paris. You’re the star of the show. I’m clever too, you know!” He gave her a fierce look.

  Sarina was surprised. “Why, Nathan Goldberg! Do I detect a tiny bit of jealousy?”

  Nathan grunted. “Humph. Girls. Anyway, if it helps, I won’t do anything silly. Feel better now?”

  She nodded.

  Nathan looked at her once, got back on his board and skated off.

  He hadn’t looked too happy about it, she thought, but at least she’d got her message across.

  She sat on the sofa in the foyer and waited for the kids to start arriving. Something was still nagging at her. She bit her lip. What was it?

  She looked up at the TV in the foyer. The news channel was looping the footage of Lena again. Not the best image for the kids to see on arrival. She went behind the reception desk and searched for the remote. Finding it in one of the drawers, she swapped channels until she found music videos.

  Just in time, as she saw the first of the kids cycling in, one of the older boys she’d met before.

  He locked up his bike outside and came in. He looked tired, but smiled when he saw Sarina. “Hey, Sarina!” He frowned. “But what are you doing here?”

  She forced a smile. “Hi, Tim. I stopped by to help out with something. Everything okay? You look tired.”

  He grimaced. “I had the most terrible nightmares. All night.”

  Sarina froze, but managed to force her smile to remain. “Oh. Sorry to hear that. Take it easy today then.”

  He nodded, smiled again and walked into the building.

  Drat! She hoped Agent Blanchard and his men would find the Professor soon and switch off that dratted machine. Any more stress, nightmares and ... and what? Don’t go there Sarina! Stay calm. Remember what the Agent said.

  The nagging thought returned and she glanced at the television—then remembered what had been at the back of her mind. Lena. The picture she’d drawn. Holding hands with Valkrog. They had never had the chance to discuss it. She sighed. Too late now. Hopefully it was nothing. Just a coincidence. The girl had probably been overexcited hearing about Sarina’s adventures.

  Calm. Be calm.

  ~~~

  Nathan pulled up on his skateboard in the light-industrial precinct where he remembered Tenkinson’s Storage was located. He stopped near a junction governed by traffic lights. The early morning commercial traffic was heavy, which made it harder to skate through the streets at the same time as avoiding trucks and craning around to look at each building.

 
Think. Tenkinson’s used to be ... next to somewhere he used to go a lot when he was younger. What was that place? When he was young he ... aha! It was coming back to him. He loved assembling model aeroplanes. He used to go to a modelling superstore two blocks away. He was sure Tenkinson’s abandoned warehouse would be next door. He waited for a gap in the traffic, and punted himself along.

  Two minutes later he was outside the empty warehouse. He circulated the building. Better that he ‘case the joint’—an idea he loved—and supply more definite information to Agent Blanchard.

  He stopped outside a broken window. Handy. He peered in and let his eyes adjust. Inside was exactly as Sarina described. That girl was amazing. Dusty old wooden floor; crates all over the place. Rats, of course.

  And there, over by the wall—the Prof! He was awake! And not far away from him, on a crate, was the collider.

  But whoever had abducted him and Lena clearly wasn’t there. He thought hard. Lena had freed herself, so perhaps their abductor had been apprehended when he had tried to catch her?

  The Prof must have noticed him at the window. He had a rough gag in his mouth. He seemed to be indicating something to Nathan, as his eyes were wide, and he was trying to talk, but all Nathan could hear was a distant muffled voice.

  He fingered the mobile phone in his pocket.

  No. The world was on the brink of disaster. He had to make sure the collider was safe. It had to be shut down, and quickly, which would mean untying the Prof. Once that was done, they would call Agent Blanchard. He looked around one more time, and again through the window. The place was empty, and he and the Prof would be in and out in a jiffy.

  He heaved himself up onto the windowsill, then through into the warehouse. The Prof was trying to tell him something. He held up his hand, and started to walk to the Professor. “It’s okay, Professor. I’m your advance rescue party. Agent Blanchard will be here soon anyway. Thank goodness you are okay.” He arrived at the machine, took one look at it, then looked at the Professor in alarm.

  “Prof, the collider’s been tampered with!”

  The Prof nodded rapidly. “Mmmm. Mmm. Mmmmmm. MMMMMMMM.”

  “What?” Nathan slapped himself on the head. “Oh, of course. Yes. Let me untie you. Sorry!”

  He walked behind the Professor and untied his gag.

  The Professor spat out some fibres from the rough sacking. “Nathan, get out of here, NOW! Run, while you can. Call Blanchard and bring backup. Quick!”

  Nathan was puzzled. “But—”

  “No buts, Nathan, run. Run or you’ll be caught by—”

  “Valkrog?” The voice hissed from the ceiling, and the huge bird-like creature swooped down and alighted in front of them both.

  “Oh.”

  ~~~

  The sleek black limousine had pulled up in front of the labs to pick up Sarina. A nameless agent got out to meet them. He was dressed identically to Agent Blanchard, who had now arrived in the foyer.

  “Miss Metcalfe, let’s hope we don’t see you again too soon,” Agent Blanchard said. “Once again, I thank you for your assistance. I am confident we will recover the Professor and the machine shortly. Please give my regards to your mother.”

  “Oh! Thank you for reminding me, Agent Blanchard. Is there a way for you to get a message to Mum? I need all my art gear packed and ready.”

  The Agent smiled. “Already taken care of, Miss Metcalfe. Is there anything else?”

  Sarina shook her head—then remembered. “Yes! Some of the kids told me they’d also had bad nightmares. The Professor needs to know as soon as possible.”

  The Agent nodded, then looked at his watch. “You need to leave, Miss Metcalfe.” He nodded to the other agent, who hadn’t spoken a word, and Sarina climbed into the back of the limousine.

  Now, on her way to the helicopter, she reflected on the recent events. Why the nightmares? She felt the stress mounting and took a few deep breaths. She thought about the upcoming creative workshop and the competition; now that was something to be excited about!

  She did her best to let the tension go, and relieved to be heading back to her passion, she settled back into the sumptuous dark-grey leather of the car as it sped through the streets.

  She could leave it to Nathan and the Professor to sort things out from here.

  ~~~

  “Failed to find anyone else to terrorise, did you?” the Professor said to the huge creature.

  Nathan was still in shock at the appearance of a creature he thought was vaporised, or banished at least. How on earth did that thing get into their world? He noticed that the Prof was both angry and scared, and that worried him. They would have to try to stall the bird-man until Agent Blanchard and his team located them—but then what? A gun fight? Come to think of it, he had no idea if Blanchard and his men even carried guns.

  Images played through his mind of a terrible scene. No, it wouldn’t do. They would have to use their brains to get out of this one.

  His mind zipped through the scenarios: The collider was in a heightened state, that much was obvious from the rapidly blinking light. That was bad. But it was operating on battery power, so it would only have a 50% capability at best. That was good.

  He and the Prof were trapped by a sadistic bird-creature from another world. That was both weird and bad. The creature had obviously used violence against the Prof, and that was double-bad. But it was wounded, as he saw from a bloodied cloth, bound against one ‘hand’.

  So, in summary then: Not much good, and a lot of bad.

  The creature was glaring at the Professor. “It’s fortunate for your children that in the growing light, I was unable to remain hidden and had to return. But now I have a new source of persuasion. And a way to find the Orange Witch.”

  “Leave the boy alone! He’s just a kid, for goodness sake.”

  Valkrog sneered. “Oh, don’t be concerned for his safety. He will be just fine.”

  From where he stood next to the Professor, Nathan looked around the warehouse. He would have to sprint to the window to escape, and he doubted whether he had the speed over the bird.

  He looked back at the creature. He might be ‘just a kid’, but he would do whatever he could to escape and raise the alarm. It was his fault he’d been caught anyway, and now he’d inadvertently put Sarina in danger, but no way would he ever reveal anything to this monster. Something puzzled him though. Why was the Prof looking so worried?

  The creature reached down and picked up the fallen gag. He thrust it at Nathan. “Put this back on the man.”

  Nathan looked at the Prof, who shrugged. He tied the gag back on, trying not to make it too uncomfortable, but the creature shoved him away and yanked the gag tight. The Professor’s eye’s bulged and he tried to talk.

  The creature reached down to Nathan’s cheek with a talon and roughly pushed his gaze away from his mentor, and onto his own beady eyes. “He should not be concerned for your safety at all. It is you who must be concerned for his.” He leaned down and shoved his beak-like face close to Nathan’s. “You will operate the machine.”

  Nathan shook his head, unable to speak.

  The bird-man let out a raspy laugh. “Oh yes you will. For every refusal, I will remove one of your friend’s fingers. Repeated failure to do as I command will cause him to suffer. With his life.”

  Nathan felt his body shake. What had he done? The world needed the Prof badly right now; he was the only one with the depth of knowledge required to program the collider, and maybe reverse the rem-loss.

  He already knew something of the project himself, but he only knew what it did, not all the theory behind the rem-collisions and the machine’s rem-leaks, or the rem-loss they were all experiencing. Actually, he realised, he didn’t know much at all. Mostly guesses. But he had to do something. Both the Prof and Sarina were now in danger, and it was all his fault. He tried to stop shaking and took a deep breath.

  The bird-creature leered at him. “Once you have operated the machine, and I hav
e made contact with my Master, you will take me to the Orange Witch. Fail to do so, and your friend dies. This time along with all his children.”

  An icy shiver ran through Nathan’s veins. He looked up at the creature and hoped his eyes showed his terror. “Please. There is no need for these threats. I’m just a boy. What choice do I have? But I don’t know how the machine works!”

  Valkrog knocked Nathan to the ground with a sweep of his fist. “You fool! Your friend’s daughter told me everything.” He spoke in a higher voice, not unlike Lena’s: “Oh, only Daddy and Nathan know how to work the machine.” His voice dropped back to normal. “And what good luck—I have them both right here.” He sneered. “I think you will do as I ask.”

  Nathan climbed back to his feet, rubbing his shoulder where the creature had hit him. Stalling would be painful. He looked at the Prof, who shook his head. Think, Nathan, think! How to give the creature what it wanted and at the same time escape. He stared across the warehouse, wracking his brains, and noticed a rat scurry out from behind a crate. Wait ... rats ... nightmares ... rem-loss ... colliders ... Lena blacking out. An idea germinated.

  He looked at the creature again. “If I do as you say, then you must guarantee his safety. And right now I have no idea where the Orange Witch is”—he saw the bird-creature raise its mighty-taloned hand in fury—“but as long as you harm no-one, I will try to take you to her.” If what he planned worked, the creature would never get anywhere near Sarina.

  Valkrog lowered his arm. “Enough talk. Work the machine. I must talk with my Master and make plans”—his beak-mouth twitched into a mocking smile—“I will return to my world ... but only after I have taken care of the Witch.”

  Nathan tried to look compliant and nodded. He walked over to the collider, feeling the tightness in his chest. This would be a risk, no doubt, but he had to increase the power load and hope. He reached over to the keypad and poised with his finger over the numbers.

  “Mmmmph. Mmmm. MMMMMPH!”

  Nathan looked back. The Professor was struggling madly against his binding. He shot him a glance he hoped conveyed the idea that he had a plan, but the Professor only jiggled around more. Never mind.