Dreamworms Book 1: The Advent of Dreamtech

by Isaac Petrov

  Ank stands and walks with that sure step of hers to the center of the stage. Bob, the wudai machine, slides behind her in a frenzy of green tendrils. “You heard the professor,” she says, her voice somehow soft and yet clear, as if whispered into every ear at once. “Fifteen minutes. Please set your wu-sarcs for…” she squints at Bob for a second, “01:45 Lunteren wake time, 18:45 Townsend wake time. I repeat: 01:45 Lunteren, 18:45 Townsend. And for those on sleep pills, please, please, don’t be late!”

  With a wide, charming smile and a casual gesture, the students—and Censor Smith, Goah be Merciful—vanish.

  Ank and Miyagi are alone in the amphitheater.

  Miyagi walks over to Ank and pecks her on her lips. “Wow!” He takes a deep breath. “That was an intense session!”

  “And it’s bound to get worse before it gets better,” Ank says, putting a hand on his cheek. “That’s what you get when you mix oil with water, Kenji.”

  Miyagi laughs. “So true!”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “What, the Global Program?”

  She nods.

  “Of course not! If anything, the worlds need more global programs, hon. You’ve seen how they reacted? They went ballistic at the first chance! All of them!” He sighs. “It’s been over a hundred years since the Dreamwars. It’s high time we let the old wounds heal. And history—true history—is the only medicine that cures societies long-term.”

  “I’m not sure about that, Kenji.” She raises her head at the benches to her right, which a few moments ago resembled a storm-battered sea of white-and-blue. “Not everybody seems so keen to move on.”

  Miyagi spreads his arms in a gesture of impotence. “All I can do is what I can do, hon. The universe is a scary dark forest. If we are going to make it, we gotta stick together. And to bring the entire human race into the same boat, truth is the only way. But you know what? I still have faith in good old common sense. Truth is obvious when you use your brain. And propaganda more so. We play them more historical facts, give them enough time to ruminate the cognitive dissonance, and some will come around. You wait and see.”

  “You are talking about Ximena Epullan.”

  He shrugs, but says nothing.

  Ank gives him a weak smile. “For a minute there I thought you were going to tell her who she really is.”

  “Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “but I got scared.”

  “Scared?” She winks at him. “Kenji Miyagi got cold feet?”

  He smiles. A sad smile. “I’m afraid of what they might do to her if they find out.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s the big deal?”

  “She could be easily misled, you know?” He wets his lips. “She could be turned into a propaganda tool.”

  Ank frowns, thoughtful. “Hmm, you think?” She turns her honey-gold eyes on him and takes his hands into hers. “Ximena has the right to know, Kenji. You can’t keep this from her!”

  “I know, I know. I’m going to tell her, all right? In private. But… I don’t think it’s the right moment, you know? And anyway, we have a seminar to run.”

  “How did you find out, anyway? About Ximena, I mean?”

  “Ah, yes.” He smiles like a veteran recalling a memory of past glories. “It was when I was researching the Inca power struggle. For the Pizarro sensorial, you know? I read this book written by a local scholar: Enrique Epullan, Ximena’s biological grandfather. It was dedicated to his dowry mother, Vanessa Kraker.”

  “Kraker!”

  “Exactly, it caught my attention as well. A bit more digging, and I found out that Vanessa Kraker emigrated to the Andes back then, in the thirties, when the GIA was still paying fortunes for Hansasia specialists. And guess where she came from.”

  “Deviss-Lunteren, of course.”

  Miyagi nods. “Her biological grandfather was Hans Kraker.”

  “Gotthard’s son,” Ank lets her eyes roll to the place in the amphitheater where Ximena was sitting next to Mark, “and Edda’s.”

  “Juicy stuff, huh? Especially for our good friend Grand Censor Jean-Jacques Smith.”

  END OF DREAMWORMS EPISODE III

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  DREAMWORMS Episode IV

  Alien Master

  A spectacular blasphemy has been unleashed upon the world.

  And the world is now turning her gaze.

  AND HER FIST.

  All while secretive aliens, hidden behind the barrier of dreams, meddle with whispers of hope.

  All while Edda van Dohla plunges in the darkest depths of the Path of the Mind-Walkers in a desperate attempt to save her father from the ritual death known as the Joyousday.

  All while Aline Speese makes a discovery that could shake awake human civilization from a centuries-old coma.

  Join Ximena Epullan and her fellow students in this new episode of Professor Miyagi’s Seminar on The Rise and Fall of the Juf.

  Join now, and witness humanity’s first hesitant steps into THE SECOND WAKE.

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  For Elon Musk and Greta Thunberg.

  For the same reason.

  Acknowledgments

  My wife, Dado—a creature of the Iberian Peninsula—is not widely known for her patience. Yet for what matters, she is. All these weird projects I undertake—be them my latest startup attempt, AI research, or, now, fulfilling the childhood dream of writing stories—she has supported me every step of the way, even as I keep dumping on her my random obsession of the day, day after day, year after year, I hope forever.

  That’s love.

  Dado has sparred ideas with me, from plot to marketing. Thank you. She has witnessed with infinite patience my slow transformation into a very early bird, the product of newly acquired writing habits. Thank you.

  I’m lucky my family has been so supportive. Mamá, Nacho, thank you for being proud of me. Vero, Tamara, Eduardo, Ignacio, Gema, thank you for not giving a hard time to your older brother.

  To my first alpha, Sam Kassé, thank you for your positive shove. When I sent over to you my first hundred pages, I was so insecure. I didn’t know if I could write a good story, or rather, I didn’t know if I could get them out of my head and put them on paper for others’ consumption. In the entrepreneurial spirit of failing as fast as possible, I was ready to drop it all and get my hand around some new obsession had you found my words lacking. I’m happy you didn’t. Also, your sensitive reading skills have been crucial in these—uh, how should I put it?—very sensitive times we live. That’s something Isaac Asimov didn’t have to cope with, lucky bastard. So thank you, Sam!

  The brutal honesty of my developmental editors Chersti Nieveen and Amanda Rutter helped reconceptualize the first draft of Dreamworms into the nine episode long story it turned out to be. Chersti’s analysis and personal sessions were crucial to see where Dreamworms fit in the broader world of fantasy/sci-fi literature. Thank you, Chersti, for your deep understanding of story, and your actionable suggestions, which made my work extend perhaps a year over my original deadline. Wow, and I’m not saying that sarcastically. I really mean my gratitude.

  Thank you, Maxim Mitenkov, for your wonderful illustrations and cover of the Episodes.

  Thank you, Cherie Chapman, for your awesome cover design for the novels. I love what you did there with Edda and Rew—it’s quite unique.

  Thank you, Claire Rushbrook, for cleaning up my manuscript with such surgical precision. Those are some magnificent editorial powers you have
!

  And last but not least, I want to thank my beta readers for their feedback. Thank you Dado, Patricio Abando, Eduardo, Tamara, L. A. White, Nicholas Lawrence Carter and Felipe Bertrand. It is thanks to you that the story reaches its final level of maturity, a more nuanced texture somehow. It’s hard to explain, but it’s real.

  About the Author — Isaac Petrov

  People, you know how it is when you pick up a book, and it's a meh, or even an ew? Well, I am one of those poor bastards to whom that happens. A LOT!

  But, oh, when that rarest of gems, the enthralling, no-bullshit story makes its rare appearance and sucks you whole? Oh, yes! That is what I live for, people: a good science fiction book.

  Solid, no-bullshit science fiction is all about the playful engagement of the intellect; that mix of escapism and raw realism; that exploration of the human soul under the duress of the most tantalizing of realities. Oh, no other genre comes even close, people. Yeah, I know how arrogant it sounds. Sorry. Doesn’t make it any less true.

  But hey, this is the page where I get to tell you about my not-so-humble self, and if there is one thing, only one, that I want my readers to know is that I do love science fiction. Always have. A true nerd, since way before it was cool (yeah, I’m that old). And my promise to you is that I make the books that I want to read. Nothing less.

  If you insist on knowing more, all right. Hmm, let’s see. Born in Spain, I’m currently settled in Amsterdam with my wife and young son. Law and economics academic background. Software engineering career. A few start-up failures. Gamer when time allows. And a passion for science since… well, forever—I told you I’m a true nerd.

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