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

  Sarina felt the world spinning away from her. When she spoke, she thought her voice sounded small. “Something worse? Worse than that thing being here?” She pointed to Valkrog.

  He nodded with a grave expression. “Yes. It would make more sense to Nathan, since he’s the scientist, but I’ll put it in simple terms. I believe he told you more about this rem-particle we discovered?”

  Sarina nodded.

  “Like many particles in nature, they have a negative twin. It’s part of what keeps everything in balance. The partner of the rem particle is something we call dark rem. If dark rem gets out of control and unbalances our world, then we are really in trouble.”

  “In plain English please Professor? What will this dark rem do?”

  The Professor winced. “It will probably increase our creative negativity.”

  “Creative negativity?”

  The Professor looked at her for a few moments before answering. “Nightmares. Evil thoughts. Scams. Inventive crimes. A living hell on earth.”

  Sarina felt her mouth drop open. “And you think the machine is making dark rem? Why can’t you turn it off? Unplug the battery, or whatever you scientists do.”

  “I wish it were that simple, Sarina. Think of it more like a chain reaction. Like having a bucket full of water, and someone punched a hole in the bottom. Destroying the thing that punched the hole still leaves the water draining from the hole. Let me ask you this: if you light a match and start a fire, will blowing out the match extinguish the blaze too?”

  She shook her head.

  “So the collider has triggered a rem-event that is diminishing our local supply even more rapidly than before. Just switching it off will only stop it happening again. It won’t stop our current problem. Over time, I can probably fix that and even reverse it, which is why I still need the device. But the problem is twofold. We have to act quickly to find Nathan, and we may find our own creative abilities get harder to summon as rem diminishes. All of which means we have a limited timeframe in which to think and to act.”

  “But what about this dark rem stuff?”

  The Professor shook his head. “I don’t know the full ramifications of the imbalance, other than what I’ve already suggested. But it’s another reason to act fast. I suspect once the balance between rem and dark rem reaches a certain threshold, we may not be enjoying ourselves very much.”

  Sarina threw her hands in the air. “So what do you need me for? I’m just a twelve-year old artist who—” She almost said ‘is going crazy’, but stopped herself just in time.

  “Who is the most powerful natural manipulator of rem we’ve ever seen. There’s a reason why you are so talented at such a young age, Sarina. Years ago, brain scientists would have put this down to some extra lobe; or an over-sized neocortex. But we think it’s more than that: Your ability to control and influence your own creativity by interacting with rem-particles not only helped you get where you are today with your art, it is also the reason why you were able to create the portals. And I need your help to do that again. Together we can control the collider and find Nathan”—he stopped and collected himself—“and hopefully bring him back.”

  He stared down at his hands for a while, then back up at Sarina. “I know it looks bad, Sarina. We were acting in the interests of our future. I have a responsibility to the kids I’ve involved in this too, not just Nathan. If we are to save our world and make sure there is a future for you, and for kids like Lena”—he held out his hands, palms up— “then I implore you to put your judgement to one side, and help us. Before it’s too late.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “I will have Agent Blanchard fetch as many of our most powerful dreamer kids as we can locate at short notice. It will take a bit of time, but I’ll stay here and protect the collider. Agent Blanchard will also go to the labs and bring the Intensifiers for the kids to use—”

  “Intensifiers?”

  “It’s a headset rem-amplifier device we developed. I plan to have them wear the Intensifiers to amplify whatever rem they can control, then you will direct their energy and paint us a portal. With this extra firepower and some guidance from me, it should open to where Nathan is now.”

  “What if I can’t ...” She didn’t have the heart to rob the Professor of his hopes, but with all her previous episodes and blackouts, she was not at all certain she would even be able to paint, let alone paint a portal.

  “You will, Sarina. You will. All you need to do is to hold focus.”

  Hold focus? While the fate of the world hangs in balance? Suddenly her brave words to her mother about saving the world before she went mad rang hollow in her head. She’d go mad before she even started, and be forever known as the ‘girl who couldn’t’. Nathan was right. Artists couldn’t save the world.

  She nodded. “Professor, I need some fresh air ... and not to be around ... this thing,” she pointed at Valkrog. “While you wait for the other kids, I’ll take a walk, if that’s okay.”

  Professor Harrison frowned and cast her a suspicious look. “Take all the fresh air you need, Sarina. But don’t go too far.”

  She nodded briefly at the Professor and Agent Blanchard, threw one look back at the creature, who was still glaring at her, and walked out into the night. She felt like that man Oates in Scott of the Antarctic, who said: ‘I may be some time.’

  Strangely, once she was outside in the cool night air, she did feel better, but that wasn’t her real reason for leaving. She needed to think. She realised with a jolt that the Professor hadn’t answered her question—how had that thing got here? In the turmoil she’d almost forgotten about the bird-creature. She struggled to recall the fight she, Nathan and Paolo had with the creature and the sorcerer, but it was a blur. She was sure they had vaporised it, but obviously not. Something tugged at her mind and she pushed it away. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted, she had come out here to think about the Professor’s request for her help.

  In truth, she thought her presence might only make things worse. What if they were on the edge of finishing the portal and she blacked out? Or couldn’t paint? Wouldn’t that be dangerous for everyone? Her own madness might light a dozen more of the Professor’s proverbial matches, and she daren’t expose the kids to that, let alone bring about the accelerated destruction of the world’s creativity.

  She walked along the quiet roads and tried to unscramble her head.

  What if she held the focus long enough to create the portal, but when Nathan was on his way back through, she went crazy and knocked everyone off balance, and Nathan came through ‘in tiny little pieces’, as he had once put it?

  What if her madness accidentally triggered a flood of this dark rem stuff and turned their world into—what was it the Professor said? A living hell?

  Having realised the full extent of the risk to her friend, the kids, the entire world; she could no longer entertain being involved. She would destroy everything, she knew it.

  Sarina walked off into the night and, knowing that nobody would bear witness, she let her tears come.

  ~ 15 ~

  Dumb And Dumber

  “Blanchard, requisition a mini-bus and meet your man at the lab. Oh, and Lena—do you have her back from the police now?”

  Blanchard nodded.

  “Good. Then pick up both her and the Intensifiers and drive around to collect as many kids as you can.” The Professor looked at his watch. “I need you to manage that inside an hour—ninety minutes at the outside—will that be possible?”

  “Yes, Professor. If I call for the mini-bus to meet us at the lab and I head there now, it should give me enough time. Not that I have any choice. I believe time is against us.”

  “Yes.” The Professor tightened his mouth. “But in our haste, we still need to be discreet. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be on my way.” Agent Blanchard turned on his heel and ran out, his jacket flapping.

  In less than 15 minutes, Agent Blanchard, Len
a and the other agent had loaded up the back of the mini-bus with Intensifiers and were on their way around the suburbs.

  Some thirty minutes later, Agent Blanchard stepped out of the mini-bus and walked through the front garden to the last house on their list. He knocked softly on the door.

  The light flicked on from behind the door and footsteps grew louder. The door opened.

  “Yes?” The young mother scrutinised the Agent.

  Agent Blanchard smiled. “I’m sorry to trouble you, Mrs Newham. I’m Mr Blanchard. I represent Professor Harrison.” He held up his badge. “Your daughter, Nancy will recognise me. May I have a few words?”

  Someone ran down the stairs in a flurry of activity. A slightly-built, but tall, oval-faced girl jumped to meet her mother. “Agent Blanchard! Are we having another research session with the Professor?”

  Agent Blanchard smiled again. “If your mother will allow it, Nancy.” He looked back at Nancy’s mother and raised his eyes.

  Mrs Newham frowned. “I realise the Professor told me we might be called upon at any time, but this is really rather beyond acceptable, don’t you think, Mr Blanchard?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about the hour, Mrs Newham. The Professor has uncovered an opportunity that the kids would appreciate helping out with, and you know how scientists are. Apparently, if we miss this window, we may not have another one in several years. As you can see”—he pointed to the mini-bus parked across the road—“we have got most of the team assembled. We just need Nancy.” He smiled down at the girl.

  “Please, Mummy?” Nancy tugged at her mother’s jumper. “All the other kids are there!”

  The woman fixed her gaze on Agent Blanchard. “Mr Blanchard. Nancy is only eleven.”

  Agent Blanchard smiled. “Then she will be among the oldest. I will take care of Nancy. The Professor has assured me that this ... experiment ... will not take too long.”

  “It had better not. I will be waiting up for Nancy’s return, Mr Blanchard. And please tell the Professor I wish to see him as soon as possible—in daylight hours. Despite your financial generosity to us and to Nancy, I did not envisage that ‘being called on at any time’ would mean this level of inconvenience.” She rubbed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Off you go, Nancy.”

  Agent Blanchard nodded thanks to the woman and walked with Nancy back to the mini-bus. Nancy climbed into the back, and the Agent into the front passenger seat. The other agent looked across at him and started the bus. “Same story?”

  Agent Blanchard inclined his head briefly. “Yes. I hope this works. We may have overextended our invitations with these folks.”

  The bus drove off, revealing the house behind it, where the slightly-parted curtain suddenly dropped back to vertical.

  ~~~

  At first, Nathan had refused to talk, but when he saw the anger growing in the sorcerer’s eyes he thought better of it.

  “Ah, actually I don’t know how I got here. Or how to contact your creature.”

  Makthryg scowled at him. “You lie, boy.” He turned around, and realising the fire was still sending up a steady column of smoke, he kicked it out and stamped on the embers. He turned back to Nathan. “How do you and your Orange Witch summon your powers?”

  “I ... I ... I don’t have any special powers. Look.” Nathan tried to wave his hands around, but they only poked out from below the vines that were binding him to the tree.

  The tall sorcerer leaned down and thrust his face into Nathan’s face. “You persist in lying. Why is this? I witnessed you and your friends working together to extinguish the power of the Xtrium. Then the Witch injured Valkrog and from what I can deduce, blasted him somewhere far away, possibly to another world. I know you have power, and I wish to harness it. If you cooperate, perhaps I will grant you continued existence in the new world here.”

  Nathan wasn’t sure how to respond. “But that was all three of us working together. I can’t do any of that on my own.” He wasn’t about to tell the sorcerer that Sarina could do some of it on her own. He didn’t see that information would do anything except dig him a deeper hole. He would have to find some way to trick the sorcerer and escape.

  Makthryg straightened. “So, you do know how to summon the powers. Then all I need are your two friends, and together you will help me rule this backward farming world. Send a message to your friends. Bring them here now.”

  Nathan shook his head. “I really have no idea how—”

  Makthryg’s glare hardened. “Enough. I have heard enough.” The sorcerer raised both hands and began to chant.

  Nathan felt the blood drain from his face. “What are you doing?”

  The sorcerer paused. “If you will not help me willingly, then I will truth-curse you to share your secrets and summon your friends.”

  Nathan groaned. He was done for. The last time the sorcerer tried this curse was when Paolo was cursed deaf and mute.

  Makthryg resumed his low chanting, then raised his hands above Nathan’s head briefly, before clapping them together.

  A brief flicker of light came from between the sorcerer’s hands, and momentarily, a strange acrid smell.

  Nathan had the impression someone was stirring a wooden spoon around in his brain, then everything turned grey.

  “Curse the harrowbrush!”

  Nathan was puzzled by the rage on the man’s face. Who was he? Everything went blank as soon as he tried to think of it. Why was he here? He strained to remember how he had got to this world, and why the man in front of him was so angry.

  The man bent down and grasped Nathan’s chin. “Boy. What is your name? Where are you from?”

  Nathan strained to find the answer. His name. Did he have one? Every thought slipped from his grasp the moment he touched it. What did the man mean? His mouth refused to obey his instructions and instead let out a steady stream of saliva. “Smelshing,” he said, and crossed his eyes. Was he supposed to know things? A dim voice whispered in his head. A scientist? He smiled up at the man and dribbled. “Shine-tiss.”

  The man thrust Nathan’s chin roughly away and muttered a string of words. Nathan knew he was supposed to understand what the words meant, but for some reason right now he couldn’t. He managed to figure out the last word. It sounded like the man had said ‘useless’.

  He heard a faint voice in the distance shout one word, then stop. “No,” it said. He thought he recognised the voice. Another friend to join the man?

  Makthryg whipped around and peered into the fading light for a few moments, then back to Nathan. He bent down and ripped a piece of filthy cloth from his tunic and stuffed it into Nathan’s mouth. He looked around once more and scurried off.

  Nathan’s eyes bulged and he strained at the gag. What did the man do that for? Where did he go? And the other voice he’d heard—it sounded familiar. If only he could think!

  ~~~

  “No—” Paolo was stopped from shouting further by Tomas’s large hand clamped over his mouth.

  Tomas whispered in Paolo’s ear. “I will be generous and believe that you still do not know how to control your voice after being mute for five years. But make another sound, and I will knock you out. Now what was that all about?”

  Paolo nodded and Tomas released his hand. He turned around to Tomas and looked at him, trying to show the apology in his expression. He whispered. “Did you smell that?”

  Tomas’s brow creased. “Smell what?”

  They had seen the plume of smoke suddenly extinguished and decided to take action before the light escaped them. Paolo and Tomas had taken one side and Andreas and Rocco the other. They were to investigate the situation, then regroup.

  Paolo had edged forward from behind a rock to peer forward, when the sudden pungent odour made him recoil. The memory of the smell was undeniable and the images flooded back: A day he would never forget. The day Makthryg’s bird-creature had killed his father. The sorcerer had stood over him, determined to extract information about his father’s whereabouts, and
Paolo had refused. The sorcerer cursed him, only it backfired, rendering Paolo mute. The curse caused a brief, but unique, pungent smell, not unlike the smell of rotting leaves. Identical to the one he had just smelled. The memory was so strong he was unable to prevent the shout of “No!” escaping his lips. Which could only mean one thing. Makthryg was in their vicinity. And he had used a curse.

  He looked at Tomas. “If you did not smell that, it proves I must be right.”

  “Why?”

  “Most cannot detect the smell of magic. Unless they themselves have been cursed. Makthryg is here.”

  Tomas’s eyes widened and he whispered again. “Then let us re-join the others.”

  They crept back to Andreas and Rocco. Paolo leaned into the huddle and whispered.

  “Makthryg is here.”

  Andreas started. “What? How do you know this?”

  Paolo held up his hand. “No time to explain, but I smelled something unusual. The smell of a curse.” He stared at Andreas a moment. “The same one I last smelled five years ago.”

  “Are you sure it was not the smoke you smelled?”

  Andreas was not one to doubt Paolo, but Paolo understood his friend’s caution. He shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

  Andreas nodded understanding and spoke quietly. “Then we must be even more vigilant. If Sarina is in trouble, there is no time to lose. I suggest we approach rapidly before we lose any advantage we have in the remaining light. If it is indeed Makthryg, then he will not suspect we are here. We will split up and crawl in. If you see more than one enemy, then retreat. Otherwise, we ambush Makthryg and take control.”

  The other three nodded assent.

  They crouched together and began to spread out to encircle the spot where they had last spotted the smoke.

  Paolo’s neck and shoulders were tense as he crept across the rocky scrub-land. Was it Sarina? Was she in trouble? Whoever it was needed help. The tension in his neck increased his sense of foreboding and he moved cautiously. He remembered Andreas’s warning: Be vigilant. He stopped and peered into the gloom. He could see a faint silhouette of a clump of taller trees, and a larger, human-like silhouette at the base of one of the trees. Whoever sat there was not moving. Perhaps whoever it was had simply fallen asleep and let the fire go out.