Dreamworms Book 1: The Advent of Dreamtech

by Isaac Petrov

  Yog and Rew stand alone in the infinite nothingness of the staging permascape.

  “That has been revealing,” the three Yog bodies say with her single female voice. “The human does thirst for power.”

  “Indeed, she does,” Rew says. “Power to save her father—thirst for love, as we did witness on her first memory. Power to shake her world—thirst for change, as her second memory demonstrated. And now, underpinning it all, as the foundation of her being—thirst for power. Power to control her own destiny, and impose her will.”

  “Indeed,” Yog says. “This human has reached due worth. You are cleared to begin her instruction in the Path of Light.”

  Rew bows lightly and remains silent for a few moments. “She shall likely conclude it, Overseer Yog, as one of the two human Walkers to tread the Path in the Shadow. With such talent and thirst, she has the potential to attain the power she so desires. She shall prove invaluable to us.”

  Thirteen

  The Wake Barrier

  The staging permascape is once again filled with people. And other than the black sky, that’s all there is here: humans and mares. And that’s the point of it, I guess, Ximena thinks.

  “I do welcome you back, human apprentices,” Rew says.

  Edda and the other youngsters gather slowly in a rough semicircle around the twelve mares. Ximena feels Edda’s deep discomfort at the memories of the events of last night. It was tough—the emotional ride, the depth of the alien inspection, such exposure, such vulnerability. She’s not the only one feeling it. Aline, next to her, has also refused to talk about last night, as have Piet and his brother Janson. Everybody looks kind of shell-shocked. But what surprises Ximena the most, by far, is that most of them have made it through. Such a motivated bunch! Apparently, there’s only one missing. Edda and her friends were just talking about it. Pieter, who has been chatting with the other candidates, says it is a man from De Haere, who apparently suffered cardiac arrest and had to be taken to aws Medic.

  “In this session,” Rew continues, “you shall be initiated into the first step of the Path of Light, which you shall conclude in morrow’s session.”

  “Just two nights?” Ximena whispers to Mark. He is a Walker, after all. He has done the training. “Is that even possible? To learn the first step in two nights?”

  “Not for me,” Mark whispers back. “Took me six months. But look,” he leans closer to Ximena and points at the group of eager youngsters floating in the air in front of them, “so many minds in such a limited space. That’s some serious time dilation right there. Every night will feel to them like a month, or more.”

  “Like us right here now, right?” Ximena waves a finger at the auditorium.

  “Yep. Time dilation in dream-space is directly proportional to its mind density,” he says, like he is reciting Pythagoras’ theorem. “And inversely proportional to its rendering requirements.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  Mark smiles. “Let me rephrase that. You want to binge-watch a month worth of zombie dreamsensos in a single night? No problem. Bring many friends and pack them close together in an empty room.” He chuckles. “Gets boring after a few dream days. Trust me.”

  “Right. But still,” Ximena points a finger at the floating scene where Edda and the rest are listening to something Rew is saying, “even stretching both nights to two entire dream months, is that enough? You trained for six.”

  Mark shrugs. “Rew chose Geldershire for a reason.”

  Ximena frowns skeptically, and returns her attention to Rew and her students.

  “—which shall have you trialed after the second session,” Rew is saying. “Only the twenty-four most proficient among you shall be cleared forward. The rest shall be discarded.”

  Ximena feels Edda’s sudden surge of apprehension. That’s about half of them! Purged after just one step. And the Path of Light has three steps, Goah’s Mercy. Edda draws a deep breath and exhales slowly, trying to blow her anxiety away. She wants to pass. She needs to pass. But is her desire stronger than the others’? She looks around her—all those determined looks. They sure as Dem are going to give their best. And perhaps this is not even about who wants it more. Edda couldn’t lift two hundred pounds over her shoulders, even if the life of her father depended on it.

  “I do request each of you humans,” Rew continues, “to approach one of my Walkers,” she nods with her head at the eight mares standing behind her. “Each shall take a maximum of six apprentices.”

  “Come!” Edda says, taking Aline by the hand and trotting towards one of the mares. “You too, mensas!” she shouts behind at Pieter and Janson.

  It doesn’t take long until eight groups have formed, one around each mare. Edda, Aline, the boys and two nervous-looking women Edda has never seen before gather around the tallest mare of all.

  “Sense and Bind, human apprentices,” the mare says. She speaks to them slowly, her female voice soft and pleasant. “I am Qoh, dreaming from Deviss, thread-maker to Walker Rew-at-Deviss, and your instructor.”

  “What’s Deviss?” Edda asks.

  “What’s a thread-maker?” Pieter asks at the same time.

  Qoh turns to Edda. “Deviss is where I am sleeping and dreaming from.”

  Then she turns to Pieter. “A thread-maker is a master of the second step of the Path in the Shadow.”

  “And what’s thread-making good for?” Pieter asks.

  “I do meld minds. As yours are now melded into this permascape.”

  “Dream sharing,” Aline says to Pieter. “I think.”

  “Where are you?” Edda asks. “Where’s Deviss?”

  Ximena notices that other groups around them are similarly grilling their mare instructors with questions. Qoh raises an arm, and the other groups vanish from sight, or Goah knows, perhaps they have all teleported somewhere else, too far away to see in this naked permascape.

  “I am not to provide more information than that required for your instruction,” Qoh says. “Which begins now.” She lifts an arm again and six beds appear in two neat rows of three, each separated from the next by about twenty feet. They are all identical, like taken out of a whimsical fairy tale—tidy and cozy.

  “There are three steps to the Path of Light. Like my master Rew, it is my ambition to be the instructor of the first human able to Walk them. The first step is named Piercing. For many apprentices the hardest of the three, since it requires a considerable amount of raw talent. I do believe you all possess such level of talent. Your halos are strong.”

  “What’s a halo?” Edda asks.

  “Not relevant, Redeemed van Dolah. You shall focus your attention to Piercing.”

  “Wow, you know all our names?”

  “I do.” Qoh gestures at the beds. “Do each take a sarc.”

  “You mean the beds, yeah?” Edda asks.

  “Indeed, I do, Redeemed van Dolah.”

  “What are they for?” she asks as they each approach a bed. Ximena can feel her energy, her eagerness to learn; this is what she does, this is what she is. “I never had the chance to use a bed in my own lessons,” she chuckles and sits on it tentatively. The mattress feels comfortable but firm, better than her own, Ximena thinks. “I’m a teacher too,” she says proudly. “A Juf, you know?”

  “I do.” Qoh turns her white eyes to the other students. “A master piercer must learn to push through the wake barrier at will. Do lie down.”

  “What’s the wake barrier?” Edda asks as she and the rest let their heads fall on the soft pillows.

  “The wake barrier separates each dream from the next. After each dream, comes the wake. After each wake, comes the dream.”

  They all nod. Simple enough so far, Ximena thinks. Probably Edda’s thought, because for Ximena it sounds too… techy.

  “A master piercer can take her mind and her memories through the wake barrier.”

  “Recall,” Mark whispers to Ximena.

  “What?”

  “In dreamtech it’s called
Recall. To remember your dreams.”

  “Oh, that’s what that’s about?” Ximena asks. Qoh keeps explaining to her pupils the nature of the wake barrier, but Ximena finds it way too boring, especially compared to Mark’s private lessons.

  “Well, it’s also the opposite, which is way harder, let me tell you that. Once you’re asleep and dreaming, ha! Not easy to remember what happened before, while awake.”

  “Oh, I see. But I can right now! I was home, Abuelo came to, er… Well, I can remember.”

  “Yeah, it’s not the same. This is a permascape, the Dreamnet. Millions of melded minds. It’s…” he frowns, like he is trying to find the right word,“… different. But in a normal dream, whoa!” He chuckles. “Six fucking months. Oh, excuse me.”

  “It’s okay,” Ximena says with a smile, and returns her attention to Qoh.

  “A master piercer,” the mare is saying, “so acquires the capacity to remain bound to the worlds, be it dream or wake.” Ximena doesn’t understand a word. “And yet, carrying yourself through the wake barrier is but the least challenging part to master. There is also…”

  “Diving,” Mark says with a snort. “Yeah, that was a tough nut to crack.”

  “… Diving,” Qoh says in her slow patient voice. “The dream dive is a mind ability that, in contrast with the coming steps of the Path of Light, you must initiate from the wake. It gives the Dream Walker the ability to dive into a dream by one’s own volition.”

  Ximena leans towards Mark. “What in Goah’s Name is she talking about?”

  “Ignore all that fancy dreamtech speech. Diving is to fall asleep at will. And dream.”

  Ximena gives him a smile of appreciation. “You are good at this.”

  “And at some other things, if I’m given the chance.”

  Ximena laughs out loud, attracting the curious gaze of their neighboring students. She clears her throat and returns her attention to Qoh and her human apprentices.

  “I shall teach you the necessary techniques of mind focus and relaxation,” the mare is saying, “and you shall practice them continuously for our two allotted sessions. If your talent is adequate, and your motivation strong, you may be able to accomplish your goal.”

  May be able, Ximena hears Edda’s thought, and feels a rush of apprehension.

  “Do shut your eyes and ready yourself for dreaming,” Qoh says.

  “But we’re in a dream already,” Pieter says from his bed, leaning on his elbow. “Can we even fall asleep here?”

  “This is indeed a dream, Elder Ledeboer, thus it is neither possible to fall asleep nor to dream. But this is also a permascape, a melding of minds. Thus, a malleable approximation of the wake. I shall tune and stimulate your minds at each step of the process as to simulate the challenges that a master piercer must learn to overcome.”

  A simulation. Edda draws a deep breath. Whatever.

  Ximena can feel her jitters. Edda has always had problems falling asleep. And relaxing is not quite her forte, to put it mildly.

  “Do shut your eyes, and picture a door,” Qoh says.

  The class begins.

  Fourteen

  Fear and Hatred

  A mare materializes next to the two rows of beds. “Walker Qoh,” she says. “Do report.”

  It’s Rew. Ximena recognizes her voice instantly.

  “Yes, master.” Qoh extends her arms at the humans, all six seemingly sleeping faceup on the beds. “My human apprentices are showing unusual talent to carry their minds intact through the wake barrier.”

  “Their halos are strong.”

  “Indeed, they are—they all accomplished a high degree of memory recollection on their first try. I do admit, I initially held doubts about whether lesser alien minds were even capable of—”

  “Do never voice such doubts in front of Overseer Yog.”

  “I acknowledge, master.”

  “Do proceed. Have your assigned humans shown a similar talent to dive?”

  “They have indeed, master. So far as the simulation can determine. All except Redeemed Van Dolah.”

  Rew turns her white eyes at Edda. She is lying on her bed, eyes shut, expression distended. Her breathing is slow and regular. To the untrained eye, she appears sleeping. But she is not, Ximena feels. She is only trying. Trying desperately. And failing. The inner anxiety is still there, clinging to her guts, unable to let her pierce the wake, even this permascape-simulated version of it.

  “That is regrettable,” Rew says after a few moments. “Even disappointing. Is this your failing as an instructor, or hers as an apprentice?”

  “My instruction has sufficed the other humans, master.”

  “Indeed. And yet she holds such promise, considering she does possess the second most potent halo among all human candidates.”

  Rew remains silent for a few moments, staring at Edda with her eerie white eyes.

  “Walker Qoh,” she finally says. “As of now, I do retake ownership over Redeemed van Dolah’s instruction.”

  Qoh’s head wobbles almost imperceptibly before she replies, “I acknowledge, master.”

  Rew approaches Edda’s bed and inspects her carefully.

  Edda opens an eye. “Oh, Elder Rew,” she says. Her eyes look pained. She is pained, Ximena can feel it. Edda is fully aware of her failure, as her comrades have all been able to sleep themselves into dreams. “Hi.”

  “You did feel my presence. Impressive.”

  “Uh, what?” She sits up, blinking, trying to get a grip on her emotions. And failing.

  Rew flicks one of her appendages, and—whoa!—the beds are gone. And Qoh. Even the flat nothingness of the staging permascape is gone.

  Rew and Edda are alone inside a spacious bedroom that has appeared from nowhere and closed around them in an instant. The room is covered in the heavy shadows of night, light from the street’s electric lamps barely sneaking through the curtains.

  Edda looks down at the bed she is sitting on, and touches it. It has changed. It feels more… real. Her eyes shine with wonder as they scan the room in the timid light. She smiles at the sight of a plant pot with a cactus on the desk by the window, next to a few books—one of them open in the middle—and a typewriter with a half-typed page still in the cylinder.

  “My room!” she says, as her eyes wander over to the chaotic pile of under-shirts and colorful tunics scattered next to the half-open closet. “It’s… Wow! Exactly like when I went to bed!”

  “Your memory is indeed not the problem,” Rew says. Her head almost touches the ceiling, and her white skin and whiter eyes fluoresce strangely in the darkness. “You can indeed pierce the wake barrier without difficulty.”

  “Argh,” Edda raises her eyes at the ceiling. Ximena feels her exasperation, her rage at her own incapacity. “My problem is the fucking diving thing.” She sinks her head and sighs. “I can’t fall asleep! And I tried, Elder Rew. I tried everything that Elder Qoh threw at us. And more. I’ve been at it for… How long have we been training already? It feels like weeks, Goah’s Mercy!”

  “Sixteen dream days to be exact.”

  “That,” she waves her hand at Rew, “time stretching thing, whoa!” Her eyes shine for an instant. “That’s the best! And I don’t even feel bored. Nor tired. Are you going to teach us how to do it?”

  “You are not capable of treading a single step in the Path of Light, Redeemed van Dolah, and yet dare to crave the Path in the Shadow. That urge you feel—that impatience—might very well be the cause of your failure.”

  Edda turns her head away. She is sad, and mad, and frustrated. “I’ve always been good at focusing on things, you know?” She looks up at Rew’s impassive blank stare, and sighs. “My dad had to shake me out of every book that landed on my lap. I would just,” she shrugs and sinks her head anew, “lose myself in the pages; especially with stories. I would live them as if I had been teleported to a parallel universe. I don’t get it, Elder Rew. I should be able to do this, yeah?”

  “Indeed, you sh
ould. But you won’t.”

  “I know that,” she says, her voice breaking as tears begin to well in her eyes. “And my dad will pay for it.”

  “Indeed, he will.”

  She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “You are my teacher, Elder Rew. Goah’s Mercy, why don’t you start doing your goahdamn job? Tell me what I’m doing wrong, yeah?”

  “You are doing nothing wrong, Redeemed van Dolah. But something is doing wrong to you.”

  “Can’t you speak more clearly, Goah’s Mercy? When I teach my students, I must speak like them!”

  “It is your fear, Redeemed van Dolah,” Rew extends one of her appendages and points at Edda’s head. “You do fear, and thus you fail.”

  “I’m not afraid!”

  “You do fear failure,” Rew says, and walks slowly towards the desk by the window, “and you do fear failure’s consequences even more.”

  Before Edda can reply, Rew pushes the plant pot off the edge. Edda gasps as it crashes noisily on the floor, sending pieces of broken cactus across the room.

  “No!” Edda shouts. She jumps out of bed and kneels next to the broken pot, eyes wide with dismay. She grabs soil with her hands and inspects the damage.

  Ximena watches her reaction with a mix of pity and surprise at the intensity of Edda’s feelings. There is nothing she can do to save the plant.

  Edda turns her glare at Rew as she stands while rubbing the earth off her hands. Ximena feels her anger. No, it’s more than that. She feels like it was her own heart that was planted in the pot. Broken—and furious. “Why?!”

  “You do feel anger,” Rew says. “Even… hatred?”

  That’s pretty accurate, Ximena thinks. Edda stays put by the window and simply glowers at Rew.

  “Place that hate in the center of yourself,” Rew stretches an appendage at Edda’s belly, “and let it bloom.”

  Edda’s eyes widen as she realizes that this is a lesson. Ximena feels the anger wane, as hope rises from its ashes.