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

  “Just a few more metres,” she mumbled. “Control your focus. We can do it. You can do it.” But could she? One bloodied foot in front of the other. She looked down in surprise. Feet. Did she have feet? Why was that? Why did they need to get to the cave anyway? She sat down, bewildered, letting the wind pluck at her.

  A strong hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. A mouth leaned in close to her face. “WE ARE BUT A FEW STEPS. PLEASE. FOR ALL OF US. FOR SARINA. YOU MUST WALK.”

  She looked at the boy’s face, anxious but determined. She nodded and grabbed his hand.

  Together they trudged, step-by-step, willing each other on against the thick resistance that pushed back against them.

  Then the wind dropped and the light faded. She dropped to the floor. They were in the cave. Would it be enough? She wanted to sleep so badly. She fumbled for Paolo’s hand and grasped it. “We need Lucio. Message to Sarina. Okay?” She felt Paolo’s hand squeeze hers and concentrated hard.

  ~~~

  The swirling energy that was once a botanist’s detailed sketch of a beautiful orchid cradling a sleeping baby moved once again towards the rift opening. The strands of energy left by the departure of Professor Malden were calling to it. Sarina felt the energy in her hands resonate and sing, as if in harmony with her purpose. Did she have to push the rift mouth closed, or shove their rem-energy down it? Breathing hard with the effort, she focused everything down to one narrow beam of power, in readiness for her last attempt.

  Paolo’s face flashed in front of hers. We’re here. In her mind’s eye, she saw a pinprick of blazing light way down on the surface of the insubstantial otherworld—and knew what she had to do.

  She straightened, opened her eyes and shoved the crumpled picture still in her hands to one side, where it hung in space. She turned her palms to the observation port, drew a deep breath, and let two streams of orange crackling energy flow out through the port, and far into space. They struck the massive orchid-of-life and ignited it into a blinding orange burst of power, too bright to look at. She squinted, and pushed her palms forward.

  The brightly-shining, three-dimensional life-force flew into the mouth of the rift, and raced down inside, like a high-speed fuse to a bomb. It shattered the tube-like rift on its way through: in perfect silence, the blackness against black flying outward and away, dissipating into cloud-like wisps, then vanishing.

  Her palms still held out, she watched the brilliant orange plasma speed through the disintegrating rift and disappear down into the two worlds. She held her breath for a moment, not sure if they had succeeded. She was about to use the mike when a blinding beam of white light erupted from the surface of the planet—Earth or Paolo’s, she couldn’t tell—and raced up towards them, straight-as-a-die. She flinched and ducked, but the laser-like lightning bolt passed them by, and was gone, leaving her blinking in temporary blindness.

  “Cripes. What was that?” Nathan’s voice in her ear.

  She shook her head slowly. “No idea. Is Lena there?”

  “Yes. I’m here..” Her voice was tearful.

  “I’m so sorry, Lena. I’m so sorry.” She broke down and sobbed, sensing Chris Hadfield’s hand on her shoulder. Her tears stuck bizarrely to the top of her cheeks and under her eyelids in great globules, clinging to her skin even when she wiped her eyes to peer out through the porthole.

  The rift was gone.

  ~ 80 ~

  Life And Hope

  Rona picked herself up off the floor and looked over at Paolo, who was doing the same. The wind had stopped, just like that. No slow-down, no gradual easing: an abrupt halt, like someone had flicked a switch. She glanced at the bright sunshine streaming into the mouth of the cave, then back at Paolo, who looked stunned. She moved over to him, took his hand, and together they walked outside in silence. She grimaced with each step on her injured feet, then the pain was forgotten and she stopped in wonderment.

  The air was perfectly still: as if a great weight had been lifted. The mountainous scenery sparkled in the sun, and the fresh smell of nature overwhelmed her. She breathed deeply and looked at Paolo, lost for words.

  Paolo spoke quietly, preserving the tranquillity. “I have the feeling we must have reached Sarina, but I do not remember the last moments of that trip.”

  She shook her head and found her voice. “Me neither. But it’s pretty obvious from this sudden change something dramatic has happened. Let’s hope it’s because whatever was broken is now fixed, and not just because the weather passed over.”

  Paolo looked up into the sky, and shielded his eyes, his attention caught by something. “What is that?” He pointed into the clear sky. Rona followed his direction and could see a small object falling from the sky, spiralling in slow motion.

  “It’s heading towards us,” she said, watching the object grow larger. “I think we should retreat back into the cave. Just in case.” But neither of them could take their gaze off the object, becoming more defined. She was reminded of something—human-like, but not alive. She strained to see more—then she realised what it reminded her of: a crash-test dummy. The object was flailing and twisting—but now it was closer, she saw it was not a body, as she had first feared.

  “It will not strike us,” Paolo murmured, and ventured further out of the cave. Rona followed. Paolo was right—the object, if it’s trajectory continued, would land a little way up the hill—closer to where they’d told her the collider had first been located by Valkrog.

  A sound appeared—faint at first, then louder. A whistling noise—like a skipping rope whirled around too fast to jump over. The object fell faster, though she realised it was an optical illusion, caused by its proximity to the ground. The whistling escalated, and she watched it fall to the ground over the hill out of their sight. She heard a distant thump. In its last few metres of descent, Rona thought she had recognised the strange article. Of all things, an empty spacesuit. She grabbed Paolo’s hand. “I know what it is. I’m sure it is safe—we should take a look before we head back to Andreas.”

  Paolo shrugged. “If you think we would profit from it, why not?”

  She laughed. “Have you no curiosity, Paolo? Our world is saved”—she noticed she’d used the word our this time—“a strange object falls from the sky, and you turn your back on it?”

  He smiled. “I did not say no, did I? But will you explain what it is, or will you make me wait until I see it for myself?”

  Rona started to walk up the hill, and turned back to Paolo. “I won’t make you guess if you can beat me there!” She turned back and started to run.

  Paolo did arrive a few metres in front of her and was already bending over the spacesuit and scratching his head. She chuckled. “I have an idea you don’t know what it is.”

  “No,” he said, “but I do know who it belonged to.” He lifted up one side of the suit’s chest to reveal a cloth name-badge, sewn in a hurry by the look of the rough stitching.

  It said ‘Professor Theodore Malden’.

  She felt her smile fade. “May he rest in peace.”

  “Then what was this device? A flying suit?”

  “Not quite—a suit for travelling in space—high in the sky and beyond. Something amazing in our—my old world.” She put her hands on her hips. “But as to how he came to be wearing it, or how it arrived here, that would be beyond my ability to even guess.” She looked up at the sky. “I hope Sarina made it through okay. It must have been a wild ride.” She rubbed Paolo’s shoulder. “Thank you, Paolo—and Lucio. Now, we’d better leave this mystery and—”

  She stopped mid-sentence, noticing something on the ground up the hill beyond the spacesuit. She grabbed Paolo’s arm and pointed. “What do you think that is?” They walked further up the rocky terrain to a small patch of rich-looking dark soil, arranged in a perfect small circle. In the middle was a tiny green plant, topped by an orangey-yellow flower. She walked up to it and gently held a leaf of the plant between her thumb and finger. “It’s an orchid. Not a native of
this world, I’d say.”

  “What does it mean?” Paolo knelt down and peered at the delicate flower. “It is intricate ... and handsome.”

  “Pretty is a better word for a flower like this, Paolo. Handsome is for boys. Like you.”

  He blushed.

  “As to what does it mean? I think it’s a symbol. A symbol of life, and hope. Speaking of which, I think we had better make a fast journey back to Andreas, don’t you think?”

  ~~~

  The return to Earth had felt surreal. After confirmation the ISS was no longer being sucked into the mouth of a monstrous wormhole, and confirmation that said wormhole no longer existed, Sarina, Chris Hadfield, Sergey, Tatiana and Gregor had allowed themselves some extended moments of tearful celebration, and they bounced and collided with each other in zero-gravity. The tension in Sarina’s temples had gone and she’d been able to smile and laugh without one hand still pressing a button marked ‘anxiety’ somewhere in the back of her mind.

  Then they were back on task. She was squeezed into the Soyuz return capsule, with the added hollow feeling in her stomach each time she looked over at Professor Malden’s empty customised bucket-seat. At the pre-launch briefing she’d learned all about how dangerous the return landing was, and that if they didn’t have custom-fitted seats in the capsule, with sophisticated spring arrangements, then the shock of the landing on hard ground, even with a parachute, would mean instant death.

  But, she thought as she looked at the empty seat again, the Professor didn’t have to face that possibility. She wondered how it had felt: being stretched out to a tiny thin glowing strand, and tried to shake off the thought. But she couldn’t wipe the tears, now her helmet was on and sealed.

  “That was a pretty amazing thing he did, wasn’t it?” Colonel Hadfield had seen her staring at the seat. She turned her head to him, the descent not featuring the gravitational constraints they’d experienced on launch.

  “He was incredible. One day you should hear the entire story. But I feel so sad for Lena.” She had to stop talking and sniffled until she regained her composure. “She only knew her dad for a few days.”

  “He did it for her, you must realise that.”

  She nodded. “I just wish—”

  “You wish your own father had seen you do this—even if it was only for a few days.”

  The floodgates opened and she bawled, helpless to stop for some time.

  “Sorry.”

  Hadfield smiled at her. “Sorry for saving our known universe? I’ll take that: apology accepted. But seriously, whatever you did back there with your father’s drawing?—that was some deep daddy-daughter stuff. If you were my daughter, I’d be the proudest dad in the universe. I’ll be telling my grandkids and my great-grandkids all about this for many years, and I still wouldn’t be bored.”

  “Bet they will be though,” she sniffled, and they both laughed.

  Some time later—and after a sleep, though she found it hard to believe she would be able to—the predicted heavy jolt came as a shock, even though she’d been warned, but the seat did its job, springing up and down like some wild fairground ride. She had no idea what possessed the Russians to want to land on solid ground, and not the sea, but she vowed not to do it again. Then smiled to herself. Do this again?

  Then a helicopter ride; she was prodded and poked by some humourless medical types, and she was back in the cosmodrome, this time in a large and sumptuous lounge room, and in the arms of her mother.

  “Sarina, Sarina. How did you do that? What were you—”

  “Mum. It’s okay. Dad was there for me. That’s all you need to know. And you’re here for me now, and that’s all I need.”

  “What about me?” Nathan looked disgruntled as he ran up, dragging Lena with him. “What about us? We were there for you!”

  She smiled. “Goes without saying. My two best friends.” She disentangled herself from her mother and hugged them both tight. “And Rona, and Paolo,” she whispered, hoping they were okay.

  Lena looked up, her eyes wide and full of hurt. “Do you think Daddy was in pain a lot ... before ...” A tear fell to her cheek and rolled off.

  Sarina shook her head. “I don’t think he suffered at all. He knew he was saving the most precious thing in the world; the daughter he never thought he would meet again.”

  “Actually I think he and your dad got together and left us a present,” Nathan said.

  Sarina looked at Nathan, puzzled, but he just smiled. “We thought you’d like to see it for yourself.” He led her over to the massive panoramic window overlooking the now dark-again cosmodrome. Next to the window was a telescope. “It’s already focused. Just look. You’ll see.”

  She gave him a wary look and bent down to look up through the eyepiece. Her vision was filled with an image of the Moon. It was very pretty, but—

  “What am I supposed to be looking at?” She kept her eye pressed up to the eyepiece.

  “Look on the left side—can you see a big crater mark, with white-ish lines rayed out from it?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s Copernicus—or one of the larger craters named after him anyway. Now drop your eye a little below Copernicus and you should see—”

  She gasped. “An orchid!”

  “A crater mark shaped exactly like it—and certainly too much like it to be a coincidence.” It was Professor Harrison, entering the room along with Agent Blanchard. “We think that blinding flash of white light was responsible.”

  She straightened and looked at them all. “I’ve had enough weirdness. Can I go home now?”

  Everyone laughed.

  ~ 81 ~

  Presidential Paintwork

  Sarina watched the silver-haired man standing in front of her, dab his brush at the canvas. Some of the yellow highlight he’d already applied to the sunset mixed in with the orange on the brush, and started to drip. The man grunted in frustration, and reached for a sponge. She put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Mr President, try not to fix that with your head. You’re thinking too much. Try to imagine the feeling of a sunset like this. Here”—she took another brush from the holder and reached across and carefully massaged the yellow and orange together—“You see how that evokes something beautiful?”

  “But it doesn’t look like this anymore.” President Fox gestured to the photo of a sunset pinned on a board next to the canvas.

  “You’re not taking a photo, Mr President. You’re making art. That’s the difference.”

  “Look at mine, Papa.” The girl sitting on an artist’s stool next to President Fox pointed at her finished painting. A pretty watercolour rendition of a cottage by a lake in the country on a summer’s day. Swans swam close to a jetty, leaving ripples in their wake. The girl—only a year older than Sarina—had talent. And her own spacesuit apparently, for which the world would be forever grateful. Though they would never know. She assumed it was for some emergency plan, which meant the suit had carried out its purpose perfectly.

  The President leaned over. “Beautiful, Rachel. Now why can’t I paint like that?”

  “You could if you trusted your instincts, Daddy.”

  “Hmmph. I think it’s time for dinner.” He turned back to Sarina and smiled. “Rachel and I wanna thank you for your time and care with us.” He raised his considerable eyebrows, their silvery sheen contrasting his tan. “I had fun, despite my frustrations. Quite clearly though, my talents lie elsewhere.”

  “Such as persuading retired astronauts to help save the world?” Sarina returned his smile. She wasn’t entirely sure where her new-found confidence was coming from, but she planned to keep using it.

  He grinned. “Chris told you about that, did he? Sums up my job nicely: persuading people. That’s what I do.”

  He gestured for Sarina to lead the way out of the most opulent art studio she’d ever seen. The personal invitation to dine with the President and his family had been extended to Sarina, Nathan and their parents, a day afte
r landing back on Earth. She was tired and exhausted, and just wanted to be a home-body for a while, but Agent Blanchard had told her refusing was bad form, so she had reluctantly accepted. But as it turned out, she had enjoyed herself, appreciating the lack of pomp and ceremony. The Americans didn’t seem quite so stiff and starchy as their own Royals. Nathan had jumped up and down when he opened his invite. “Whoa! Too cool! Maybe I can talk to him about my anti-gravity project—I bet he’s got secret people working on it already.”

  “Nathan! Have some manners—this is the President of the United States we’re talking about here.”

  He’d looked at her, bemused. “I know. What a funny thing to say. He’s exactly the right person to ask.”

  At the White House, Nathan had accepted the behind the scenes tour with typical enthusiasm, telling the nameless black-suited security guards he could probably hack everything they used anyway, at which point they took him off to a room, and when he returned, he was red-faced. “They strip-searched me.”

  “Shows you should be careful what you say!” She laughed. “Enjoy the tour. And keep your mouth shut!”

  Then the President had appeared, and sprung his surprise: would she like to paint with him and his daughter?

  She’d been nervous at first, but he was right: it had been good fun, and he’d turned out to be a good sport.

  The President walked down the carpeted corridor past her and opened the door to an enormous room with a long table, sumptuously set for dinner. At the other end, sitting in a comfortable lounge area next to a fireplace and chatting away with each other, were her mother, Agent Blanchard, Professor Harrison and Lena. They all stood as soon as they saw the President and his daughter at the door.

  Sarina followed the two of them down the room to join the others.

  “Mr President. Very kind of you to invite us here, sir.” Agent Blanchard took the lead and shook the man’s hand, and Sarina watched the President’s persuasion skills get to work. Within minutes he had them all at ease and laughing.