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

  Professor Harrison nodded. “Probably a massive ripple effect too. Even if you and Lena and all the kids tried together, you might not be heard above the residual rem noise.”

  Nathan scratched his head. “Wait. What about the Intensifiers?” The ‘yellow hats’, as the kids called them, had flashed into his mind when the Prof had talked about them all trying something together. “Didn’t you and Sarina and the kids use them together to bump-up the rem before? It worked then didn’t it? Why don’t we go to the labs and try that? Maybe we can talk to Sarina that way.”

  If she was still alive.

  The Professor looked at him. “The only thing we did before with those things was send Valkrog back. I don’t wish to dampen your enthusiasm, but my guess is they’ll be next to useless given the current conditions. And do you really think those parents will release their children into our care again, after what they’ve just been through?”

  He gave the Professor a glum look. “I’ll try anything right now.”

  “Me too, Nathan. You’re right about one thing though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We should go to the lab. Perhaps there’s something we might learn yet from Malden’s experiments. Something I missed.”

  And now, after watching the report on the minivan’s TV, his heart was the heaviest it had ever been, because he was now certain Sarina and Rona did not survive the portal. Not if what he’d just seen on the news was true. He turned to the Professor. “This is all our fault? Our universe being pulled inside out like a giant sock?”

  Professor Harrison studied him for a while before replying. “All reasonable explanation would suggest that, Nathan. An unlucky confluence of events—maybe down to the fact that the dark matter concentration was particularly high in this region at precisely the wrong moment. Like the ice-skater on a frozen lake in winter, who cannot see the thin ice they are heading onto.”

  The science fascinated him, but it was like being stuck in your own horror film. “Will destroying the collider stop it? That’s assuming Sarina ...” he trailed off, unwilling to state the unpleasant possibility.

  The Professor nodded. “I’d place a good probability on the fact that destroying the collider will also destroy the connection between the universes, and therefore halt the problem.”

  “Then shouldn’t we ... I mean ... people should know ...”

  “Alert those at the top? Tell them there is a small machine in another world, in a parallel universe we first reached in our dreams, sucking our solar system through a tiny wormhole? I suspect the only people who would believe us are the very ones we’re already fleeing from.”

  “The Consortium.”

  “Exactly. But let’s look on the bright side. We know what the issue is, and we have a good chance Sarina actually did make it through the portal.”

  “But you’re not with her, Prof. I mean, all credit to Sarina, she draws quite well, but she’s no scientist. And you’re expecting her to pluck a way to destroy it safely out of thin air?”

  “Have faith in your creative friend, Nathan. Wasn’t it you that was so proud of your ‘Orange Witch’ not so long ago?”

  Nathan gave the Prof a rueful smile. “I guess you’re right.” His brow creased. “But wait—won’t this Consortium mob know exactly where your lab is? They seem to know everything else.”

  “Probably. But I’m betting on the fact that they think they have a man on the ground who no doubt communicated what he was seeing before he dived into it. I’d say they are so obsessed with the device and anything as powerful as a portal that we can take advantage of them being distracted. Also, let’s face it”—he pointed to the inert TV screen—“if their customers have just watched what we have, they probably haven’t got their minds on their latest weapons purchase. In any case, I think it’s time I revisited Malden’s work. Perhaps he left us a clue about why this has happened—or more preferable, how we can stop ourselves being turned inside out—how did you put it? Like a giant pair of underpants?”

  “Not quite, Prof, but it’ll do for now.” He wondered whether Professor Malden had really had any idea at all. Maybe he’d also been out on that frozen lake, just at the wrong time.

  ~ 47 ~

  A Strange Party Of Friends And Enemies

  Sarina tumbled through a thorny bush and into a forest’s dark undergrowth, and rolled to a halt covered in leaves. Her heart pounded and her whole body trembled. The portal had opened up and sucked her in—what had gone wrong? She checked herself over, remembering the last occasion a portal had misfired and she’d broken her wrist on landing. This time, apart from some painful bruises and scratches from the bush, she was in one piece.

  But alone, and with no idea of where she was.

  She peered up through the dense canopy of branches above. The sky looked dark and menacing, and high above her the tops of the trees were being buffeted by a strong wind that whistled and roared. She did her best to hold back the tears that threatened, and she picked herself up.

  A branch crashed to the ground behind her and she shrieked. Not good. If she was going to have any chance of survival, it wouldn’t do to be having a nervous breakdown with every sudden sound. She took a deep breath. Now more than anything, she needed to be the Orange Witch. And not just for her own sake.

  She brushed herself down, and looked around to get her bearings. By the look of it, she had rolled down an incline forming the side of a hill. She shivered. Was this the right place? Gusts of wind penetrated the trees and tugged at her clothes.

  Now what? The Professor hadn’t come through the portal with her, and the last thing she’d seen was Rona trying to escape the overpowering suction as the portal’s gateway shut down. She stood flanked by shadowy trees, unsure of her next move, but the idea of moving and taking some kind of action—any action—felt good in her body. The first thing she had to do was to find out where on earth—or not—she was. And if the portal had worked to bring her to the right world, and land her close to Paolo and the others. Lena’s image and Sarina’s own painting had been strong enough to cement the portal’s connection, she was certain of that.

  But which way to go? The forest was thick with wild undergrowth. There were no trails here; she would have to fight her way out.

  She looked around the leaf-carpeted earth for something to help her, and spotted a branch. She picked it up and stripped off the remaining leaves to make herself a tool to help beat her way through the thick vegetation.

  She glanced up at the treetops and the sky, trying to put the roar of the gale whipping away above her out of her mind. Her intuition told her if this was Paolo’s world, then the people Lena had pictured for them should be further up the hill. She grabbed her make-do thrashing stick and had started to work her way upwards when a loud commotion and crash close behind her stopped her in her tracks. She dropped to her knees and looked around for the source of the noise. She thought she saw the undergrowth move a few metres further down the hill, and she crouched down more, gripping her stick and holding her breath. The sounds had stopped. She peered through the scrubby leaves, but saw nothing.

  She waited. The wind squall above roared and the trees around squealed in sympathy. After a few minutes and hearing nothing but the weather, she decided she’d been scared by no more than a falling branch—a big one, judging by the noise—and vowed to keep her wits about her and check each step. Though she wasn’t sure how one avoided falling branches or if there would be any advance warning. She gritted her teeth and stood, and had swung her stick back ready to scythe a path up the hill, when another sound from down the hill stopped her.

  “Sarina? Is that you?”

  Rona!

  Sarina whipped around and thrashed her way through the undergrowth in the direction of the voice. “Yes, Rona! I’m here. Wait there, I’m coming—”

  She realised how stupid the words were as they left her mouth. The forest was no place for a wheelchair.

  “I’m over here!”


  Sarina looked in the direction of the voice again and saw Rona’s face poking up over a fallen log. She stumbled her way across, shouting over the noise of the wind and the trees. “Rona! Are you okay?”

  Rona, nodded, waved ... and did something amazing: she stood up.

  Sarina arrived, panting. “Rona—” She looked Rona up and down, her mouth open. “You’ve ... you’ve ...”

  “Got legs?” Rona grinned. “Rather extraordinary really.” She glanced up at the tree canopy. “Seems to be quite a storm brewing. I think we’d better get out of here, wherever here is, and do our best to find your friends.” She looked down again at her legs and shook her head. “If this is a dream, I hope I don’t wake up.”

  “It’s no dream,” Sarina said. “You’re right though, we need to move. I think we have to go up the hill. Um, do they work?”—she pointed to Rona’s legs—“And what about shoes?”

  “Oh yes, they most definitely work. And I plan to make the most of them. Don’t worry about shoes. I was a barefoot country girl from way back on my parents’ farm. I’ll be okay. You start clearing the way back up and I’ll find myself a stick.”

  Within a few minutes they were thrashing their way up the hill, finding a rhythm between them to rotate the lead and to share the hard work of beating a path out of the forest. From time-to-time they had to stop to slash away together at a dense patch, or to pick an alternate path around an impassable crop of trees.

  They arrived at the edge of the forest, out of breath.

  Rona squatted and watched the sky, the wind whipping her long braided hair around her face. She brushed it away and tied it up in a makeshift bun. She pointed to the horizon, divided by the rocky terrain. The dark clouds they’d seen through the treetops were now almost black, and snaking down from some of them to the ground were ominous black threads, as if Mother Earth was trying to suck the clouds down. She raised her voice. “Twisters. We’ll have to find solid shelter soon, friends or no friends.”

  Sarina nodded, and squatted next to Rona to reduce the buffeting and make conversation possible. “It looks scary.” She tried to keep her voice steady, without success.

  Rona turned to face Sarina, held her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Scary, yes. But to be courageous is to keep going even if you are scared. I’m scared too. I’m in another world I’ve never been to, and wasn’t supposed to come to; I’ve suddenly got my legs back and no idea how, nor if they will be taken away from me, and I’ve no idea how we’re supposed to accomplish what we need to do, or if we’ll ever get back. But there is a whole world depending on us, so we have to believe we can do it.” She sighed. “My grandmother had a very wise saying that I never fully understood until I lost my legs, and I didn’t think I’d ever feel happy ever again. But looking back, I’d say it was the one thing that kept me going.”

  “What was it?”

  “She said, ‘You can control your focus instead of letting fear control it for you.’ That’s what we have to do, Sarina, control our focus and direct it to the next step, then the next step, and then again—until we reach our goal. Okay?”

  Sarina looked down at Rona’s legs as she squatted in front of her, then back up into Rona’s eyes. She took a deep breath. “Yes. I can do that. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.” She hugged her friend. “And that you’ve got legs.” She gave Rona a quick smile, stood up, and braced herself against the wind. She held out her hand. “Come on then. Let’s take the next step. We have to get to that thing and destroy it before Makthryg or Valkrog mess with it.”

  Rona sprang up, shook her head in disbelief at her legs, then grinned at Sarina. “You constantly surprise me, Sarina. Once you learn to tap into whatever strength it is you have that switches on like that—then look out world, that’s all I can say.”

  They exchanged a quick glance, and set out against the wind and up the next rise.

  They were almost at the top, forced to crouch and duck-walk from time-to-time when the wind-gusts rose, when a sustained blast drew them into a huddle while they waited for it to abate.

  “I wonder why I have legs in this world?” Rona said, pinching her shins and ankles.

  “Things in this world are different. When Nathan and I got back after our last time here, we had grown bigger. Running and walking here also feels different—”

  “Ah! Is that what it is? I thought it was because I hadn’t had legs for so long.”

  Sarina rubbed her forehead and pushed her hair away from her eyes as the wind blew it around. “Maybe this world is in a different time or space or something. You know—different to before your accident.”

  Rona looked hard at Sarina. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re quite the scientist.”

  “Bah! No way would I—”

  She jumped up and pointed to the top of the rise, where several figures had crested the hill, bent against the wind. “Rona, look!” Sarina stood, pushing herself against the gust and waved both arms in the air. “Paolo! Andreas!”

  “They can’t hear you over this,” Rona shouted. “Let’s go to them.”

  They trudged up to the top, their eyes streaming from the wind-blasts and waited for the figures to approach them. One of them broke away in a running-crouch, and when he reached them, picked Sarina up into a wind-beaten embrace. “Sarina.” Paolo untangled himself from his friend. “Fate has answered our needs.” He looked over at Rona. “Is this your mother?”

  Sarina laughed, but the wind carried away the sound. She shook her head and leaned up to Paolo’s ear. “No. It’s Rona. But we have to find shelter from this.” She turned into the force of the wind and pointed to the black clouds and menacing spouts in the distance.

  Paolo nodded and cupped his hands around his mouth so she could hear. “That is not our only problem.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the arriving party.

  Andreas marched up to meet them, a grim look on his face. Following him was the strangest sight. At the rear, Tomas, carrying the collider, blinking its steady message. In front of him, a wraith-like semi-transparent Valkrog, sleep-walking, oblivious to the wind, and held captive by some shimmering magic-rope.

  Someone stumbled out from behind Andreas to confront her: Makthryg, his face haggard and sickly.

  “Ah. The Orange Witch. Precisely who we need.” The ravaged face of the sorcerer attempted a curled-lip smile before he crumpled to the floor.

  ~ 48 ~

  Cave Magic

  Sarina looked down at the unconscious sorcerer and then over at his somnambulant servant. “What does he mean? And will someone please tell me what is going on?” She shot a glance at the approaching storm clouds and vicious black twisters dancing their way across the horizon. “And please be quick—we need to find shelter and I have to work out a way to destroy this device—”

  “No!” Makthryg’s eyes flicked open, and he spoke with difficulty from where he lay. “The machine must not be destroyed. Please listen to me—”

  “Yes, yes, I get it. Somehow you managed to persuade my friends that this thing will be everyone’s saviour, and all they have to do is believe you. I still don’t understand why they let you walk free, but for now, I would like to hear the truth from someone who I know will tell it. Be quiet!”

  Makthryg fell silent and closed his eyes. Sarina looked at Andreas, her eyes narrowed. “There’s more to this story, obviously”—a gust of wind blew them savagely, causing Sarina to steady herself against Paolo—“so before I do anything as stupid as I did before, I think I should hear it. Is there somewhere we can take shelter from this awful storm?” She looked to Paolo.

  Paolo nodded. “There is a rocky outcrop further down, not far from the forest. We passed it on our way here—I believe it to have a small cave-like opening. I will lead the way.” He moved off, followed by Sarina, who looked back at Rona.

  Rona looked at Andreas and Tomas. “I’m Rona by the way, a friend of Sarina’s. But let’s get to this cave.”

  Tom
as rolled his shoulders and picked up the collider from its resting place. “Any friend of our Orange Witch is a friend of ours. Welcome to our world, Rona.” He looked at the black spouts in the distance. “Though I wish we had organised a better welcoming party.” He grinned and marched off. Andreas held his arm outstretched, indicating for Rona to follow, and with the other reached down to first drag Makthryg back to his feet, then pull Valkrog along with the free end of the rope.

  The rocky outcrop did indeed have a small cave, Sarina saw as they approached, grateful to be out of the jet-like whine of the wind. She followed Paolo in and waited for the others, who arrived and brushed themselves down, relieved to be out of the bruising squall.

  “We’d better share some information before we make any plans. Our world is in big trouble, but I get the sense yours is too, and maybe that thing”—she pointed her foot at the blinking machine on the rocky floor, close to the cave’s entrance—“might be to blame. My instinct is to destroy it, but—”

  “But something tells you that could cause a problem?” Andreas looked at her. “Makthryg claims to have been in contact with a young girl in your world—”

  “Lena.”

  “Yes. He was trying to contact her to get a message to you. He believed you could help us.”

  “Of course I would help you—but help him? Why would I do that?” She gave Andreas an odd look. “More to the point, why would you do that?”

  Andreas sighed. “I might ask myself the same question, if it were not for Lucio, who claimed he also spoke to this Lena, and that Makthryg was telling the truth. That we should not allow Valkrog to possess nor use the strange machine, or the world would be doomed. And Tomas, who persuaded me to listen when my ears were closed. Makthryg insisted we bring Valkrog with us, despite the clear evidence he is dying—or fading away into non-existence. The sorcerer himself helped us trick Valkrog and bind him with magic. More than this, I do not know, but now is the time for him to divulge the real meaning of his actions, I suspect.” He gazed at Makthryg, who had lapsed into apparent unconsciousness on the cave’s smooth rock floor.