The Stuff of Dreams

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  Men and women in white slipped in through the open doorway. The cart the nurses pulled in had several trays of surgical implements and a white device that made harsh mechanical sounds.

  “Would you look at that . . .” the sheriff muttered in wonderment as the hospital director first smiled warmly at him, and then turned a sharp gaze at D. The figure in the black coat had already disappeared through the doorway. “Wait in the lobby,” the sheriff called out after the Hunter before turning back to the director.

  The director’s heavily wrinkled fingers stroked the power generator as he said, “This just arrived from the Capital this morning. It’s the latest development in brain surgery technology. I believe we just may have some success using this to transmit signals directly to her brain cells instructing them to wake up. It may seem like ex post facto approval, but we figured you’d be here at this time anyway. So, what do you say? Should we give it a try right away?”

  The thoroughness of Dr. Allen’s preparations, to say nothing of his strangely coercive manner, left the sheriff a bit confused. “You’re talking about sending stimulus directly to her brain. Couldn’t that be dangerous?”

  “Even if I’m just putting medicine on a bug bite there’s some danger, however small, involved.”

  “But we’re talking about someone’s life here,” Sheriff Krutz said as he looked the elderly physician right in the eye. “If there’s any possible danger, however small, I can’t go along with this. Besides, if Sybille were to wake up, would she be able to stay the way she is now?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Let’s just suppose for a second that she might not sleep for all eternity, even if the wound on her throat remains. As long as Sybille has that wound, she’ll remain a young girl . . . albeit a young girl in a dream. But when she wakes, isn’t it possible her dreams and her flesh will return to reality?”

  The hospital director heaved a heavy sigh. “Well—I suppose there’s no way around that. But of the two, Sheriff, which scares you more?”

  The sheriff’s expression shifted. As if sunlight had suddenly shone down onto dark thoughts he’d been oblivious to, he let his eyes wander absentmindedly across the ceiling. “Which one?” the sheriff muttered.

  “When the Noble’s spell over her is broken, her physical body will lose its youth, and her dreams will be robbed of their youthfulness as well. But isn’t that a fair enough trade for what she’ll regain? Which scares you more, Sheriff?” The director’s voice had the sharpness of a steely blade.

  The silence began slicing into everyone present in the room; one of the nurses hugged her own shoulders.

  “I don’t know . . .” Sheriff Krutz groaned in a low voice.

  In a room packed with ghastly expressions, Sybille’s face alone was serene as a slow breath trickled from her.

  .

  As the figure in black returned from the far end of the hall, a faint voice called out his name. It was Nan. Her innocently smiling face blossomed like a flower in the gloomy lobby. Getting up off the sofa, she came toward him as if pushed along by a wind. “Thought you’d be here,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  Furrowing her brow as if troubled, Nan touched her forefinger to the tip of her nose. “Intuition, perhaps? Yes, I’m sure of it.”

  “Ai-Ling was supposed to be here.”

  “She left a few minutes ago. I knew in an instant you must’ve brought her here.”

  “You have good instincts,” D said, heading for the front door.

  “Wait just a second, Mr. Impatient!” Nan called out as she scampered after him. “What are you gonna do next?”

  “Leave the village.”

  “What?!” Nan gasped, her eyes going as wide as they possibly could. “But you haven’t even gotten to the bottom of the mystery yet. And that other incident is still under investigation. Like I told you yesterday, the sheriff will go after you if you try to leave.”

  Turning his face back the tiniest bit in Nan’s direction, D said, “That’s right.” His lips were molded in a rare wry smile. As they went out the front door, he turned to Nan and said, “The sheriff and Sybille were lovers, weren’t they?”

  Nan nodded. “If Sybille hadn’t wound up like that, I guess they would’ve gotten married. They got along really great—and they were the best-looking couple in town.”

  “On the way up here, I heard that the three of them were apparently friends.”

  “You don’t give a lot of thought to other people’s feelings or relationships, do you?” Nan remarked sadly, but of course the comment garnered no reply. “What do you think it’d feel like having your husband go off every single day to visit your old best friend in the hospital? Especially when she’s waiting there for him, looking just like she did way back when? I should think it hurts his wife just seeing herself in the mirror. And all of this . . . every last thing . . . is the Nobility’s fault. If only he hadn’t bitten Sybille . . .”

  Savage emotions shot from the girl’s innocent face, but D didn’t divert his gaze.

  Suddenly, Nan was looking at D through eyes damp with tears. Her pale hand pressed down on his black-clad shoulder. In a piteous tone hardly imaginable from such a naive young girl she said, “You’re a Hunter, right? Then do something for her—help Sybille. If you can destroy the Noble, you should be able to save his victim.”

  “What do you mean?” D asked, keeping a grip on his reins. It was a question that would probably draw a frightening response. A gale carried the smell of fallen leaves through the sunlight around them. The distant mountains turned red and gold with the changing foliage; autumn was quietly strengthening its hold.

  Nan didn’t answer. Tears crept from under her closed eyelids, leaving trails on her pale cheeks as they rolled down. The hand pressing down on D’s shoulder shook with her sobs. Even after he had pulled away, her hand remained extended for the longest time.

  No word of parting was spoken, but soon enough hoofbeats could be heard growing ever fainter. Nan didn’t turn around—for a long time she stayed there. She thought maybe someone would come for her. She was sure if someone would just speak

  to her and ask her what was wrong, she’d go back to being herself. A voice addressed her just then, but not the one she had in mind.

  “What happened to the Hunter?” the sheriff asked.

  Quickly wiping away her tears, she looked back at him and said, “He left just now.”

  “Well, I’ll have to make sure,” Sheriff Krutz said, going down to the end of the fence and getting on his horse.

  “What’s gonna happen to him?” Nan asked out of the blue.

  “Not a thing. I’ll see him to the edge of the village. After that, it’ll be up to him to decide.”

  “I wonder if he’ll be able to go.”

  Getting the distinct impression the Hunter had said nearly the same thing to him not so long ago, the sheriff forgot to goad his horse forward with a kick to the flanks. “He tell you anything?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” Nan replied, shaking her head. In all her life, she’d never shaken it so hard. Her hair swung out and around in arcs, and her glittering teardrops flew out on an identical course. “What’ll happen to him?” she asked. “What’ll happen to Sybille . . . or to you, Sheriff? And what’ll happen to all of us?”

  “Nothing’s gonna happen,” the sheriff said firmly. At one time, the villagers had been able to hear those words and sleep peacefully through dark nights rife with fluttering demons. When a trio of wanted men came down the main street, the sheriff told the frightened populace the very same thing before he coolly went off to deal with the matter.

  The lawman drove his spurs into his mount’s flanks. There was the sound of horse and rider thundering across the earth, and then Nan was once again left behind.

  .

  It took him less than five minutes to find D—there was only one road that connected back to town. About a thi
rd of the way from the hospital to that junction, D was out in the middle of the road. A sense of incongruity filled the sheriff’s heart. D had stopped. And he was facing the lawman. Having halted his horse for a moment, the sheriff then closed the remaining distance with one burst of speed. At first, he thought this might’ve been some sort of setup, but he quickly thought better of the idea. He was convinced this Hunter would never resort to anything so crude. Scattering pebbles everywhere, the sheriff pulled up alongside the Hunter. The other man made no attempt to look at Krutz, but had his eyes trained straight ahead.

  “I take it you weren’t waiting around for me, now, were you?” said the sheriff.

  “How did you come here?” D asked.

  “What?”

  “Rode straight from the hospital for about five minutes, didn’t you?”

  “Sure did,” Sheriff Krutz replied, feeling somewhat bewildered. There was nothing unusual about their surroundings or the way the Hunter was acting. His voice had been ordinary when he asked the question, too. Only he was pointed in the opposite direction.

  “Then this is where normalcy ends, I guess.”

  “What are you talking about? Didn’t forget anything back in town, now, did you?” Although the last question had a pressure behind it meant to dissuade D from breaking their agreement, the Hunter didn’t seem to notice in the least.

  “I went straight,” D said.

  While Sheriff Krutz thought it was obvious the Hunter meant he’d come straight back from the main road, a heartbeat later another impossibility crossed the lawman’s mind, making him squint suspiciously. He can’t mean to tell me he’s been riding straight on since he left the hospital, could he?

  Before the sheriff could get the question out of his mouth, D had turned his mount around. The Hunter rode off without even asking the lawman to come along. It was only natural that the sheriff went right after him. Side by side, the two of them continued down the road.

  “This is a peaceful village,” Sheriff Krutz said. “Always has been—since long before I was born. It’s not the sort of place for those with the scent of blood all over ’em.”

  “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  At that unexpected question, the sheriff turned toward D in spite of himself. By the look of him, he was a young man, no more than twenty. Being a man of the law, Krutz was accustomed to a certain level of formality, but for some reason this question didn’t bother him. “This,” the sheriff said, pointing to the badge on his chest.

  “Did you ever tell Sybille that?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “You had the makings of a sheriff. That’s probably what Sybille wanted for you. Your dream was her dream, too, wasn’t it?”

  “We never even talked about it. I was supposed to run the general store.”

  D didn’t say anything.

  “But forget about me. I want to know why you—” Realizing in the blink of an eye that he’d ridden ahead of D, Sheriff Krutz hastily pulled back on his reins.

  “See if you can go on,” D said.

  “What?”

  “Go straight ahead. I’m going to wait a minute.”

  About fifty feet ahead of them the road twisted to the right. Beyond that it was swallowed by the densely packed greenery of the woods. Throwing a sharp glance at the Hunter, the sheriff started off on his horse. Nothing happened. Slowly he turned into the woods. The sheriff couldn’t believe his eyes. A black horse and rider suddenly stood before him. It was D, but even after Sheriff Krutz had ridden close enough to confirm the rider’s gorgeous face, he still wasn’t ready to accept it. To the Hunter still keeping his silence, he said, “Is this a sealed dimension?”

  “Well, I’ve had some experience with those. This is something else.”

  “So, this is what you meant when you said something wouldn’t let you leave the village?”

  D gave no answer, but kept his eyes trained straight ahead. The sheriff turned around. Out of the woods, a low singing voice was growing louder.

  .

  “Go take a peek if tomorrow’s not along,

  Those old Nobles just might’ve been wrong,

  A world full of twisted creatures and such,

  Don’t seem to bother anyone much . . .”

  .

  First, a pair of horses became visible. They were followed by a second pair, and then a third, before a wagon covered by reinforced vinyl finally appeared.

  “Looks like people can still get through from the outside, though,” the sheriff said in a low voice.

  “You there—what are the two of you up to?” the middle-aged woman sitting in the driver’s seat with the reins and an electronic whip in hand asked in a voice so big and bold it was clear she wasn’t the least bit afraid. Come to mention it, her body was fairly huge, too. She was built like a keg of beer, unlike some other women who had waists thinner than this woman’s upper arms. “Well, if it ain’t the sheriff,” she shouted. “How’s life been treating you?”

  D gave a quick look to the lawman.

  “An acquaintance of mine,” the sheriff commented morosely. “That’s Maggie, a jack-of-all-trades. Comes by twice a month. Damn!” he added suddenly. “I’d better stop her, or she won’t be able to get back out again!”

  “It’s no use,” the Hunter said.

  The covered wagon was far enough away that the driver couldn’t hear what the two of them were talking about, but it stopped right in front of them soon enough. “Quite the looker you’ve got with you,” Maggie said to the sheriff. “Seems like the rough-and-tumble sort, but I hope you weren’t planning on running him out of town, were you? If you are, I’ll thank you to hold up until we’ve been introduced.” To the Hunter, she added, “Hello there, you sweet young thing. I’m Maggie the Almighty.”

  “They call me D.”

  “Well, I’ll be!” The round eyes and mouth set in her big dinner-roll of a face all opened in unison. It took a few seconds before she could speak again. “You . . . you mean you’re . . . Well, now, it’s a pleasure to meet you. This is an honor.”

  “Any strange business on your way here, Maggie?” the sheriff inquired in a stern tone.

  “Why, I haven’t done a blessed thing! What’d I ever do to have you put a question to me like that? The nerve of some people! Say, handsome,” she said to the young Hunter, “why don’t you come into town with me? I’ll even act as your guarantor. Though in your case, I’m sure there’s no shortage of ladies who’d want to be with you, even if it meant getting bitten,” she said rather impudently, quickly adding, “Oops,” and clapping a plump hand over her mouth.

  “Have we met before?”

  With that question from D, Sheriff Krutz also trained a grave gaze on the hefty figure.

  A bewildered Maggie replied, “Nope, never seen you before. Not even in my dreams.” The last remark she said completely casually, but, with the way the sheriff’s expression quickly hardened, she must’ve realized she’d said something wrong. Still, she hardly seemed unnerved. “Well, guess I’ll be getting a move-on. I’ll get my permission to set up shop later, thank you,” Maggie said coolly, shooting a wink at D before she called to her team and gave a shake to the reins.

  “What’ll we do?” D asked Krutz as the lawman watched the departing wagon. “The other roads are probably just like this, in which case all we can do is head back.” Without another word, D wheeled his mount around, and then suddenly behind him he heard the metallic click of handcuffs, so well known that even the smallest child on the Frontier would recognize the sound.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re gonna have to detain you until we can get this situation sorted out,” Sheriff Krutz told him. “No matter how you look at it, you seem to be the cause of all this. If I don’t do something, there’s no telling what could go wrong next.”

  “And if I’m locked in your jail, nothing else will happen?”

  “Not really. But as the law here, I can’t very well leave you free, either.”
In the lawman’s rough hand was a weapon that was exceedingly hard to come by, graceful and fierce and glittering in the sunlight—a sol gun. Amplifying the power of natural light, the gun could channel it into a fifty-million-degree beam that could go through three feet of titanium in a thousandth of a second. Unlike laser blasters or photon cannons, which were rendered useless if their ultra-compact nuclear power sources were destroyed, the sol gun only needed a piece of resilient photosensitive film to keep it running indefinitely. Thirty minutes of exposure on a sunny day or six hours on a rainy one was enough to keep the beam charged for over two hundred hours. Even D wouldn’t fare very well if shot through the heart with that, never mind what would happen if it was fired at his head . . .

  The sheriff quickly put some distance between D and himself. “See, I’ve heard that the Vampire Hunter D has a sword that’s quicker than a laser beam,” he explained. “Move along, now.”

  D showed no signs of resisting, and the two of them started back up the road that’d brought them there. Neither of them spoke at all. Soon, they could see the hospital once again.

  “Aren’t you going to swing by?” D asked out of the blue.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I recognize the new equipment the doctors had. Are you sure you shouldn’t be there?”

  “I’m busy being the sheriff—or are you gonna give me your word that you won’t take off?”

  “If I did, would you believe me?” D asked.

  “Nope.”

  The white building came up on their left, and fell behind them in no time.

  “I suppose they just may wake her up after all . . .” the sheriff said, as if rationalizing. For words born of his iron confidence, they sounded strangely frail.

  “So, if you plan on locking me up to prevent any trouble, I doubt that’s going to do much good.”

  “Don’t give me any more of your speculation. This happens to be part of my job. I’m not letting my personal life get mixed up with business here.”

  After remaining silent for a short while, D said, “You should let her keep on dreaming. No matter what those dreams may be.” And then he quickly added, “Or is it too late?”