Escape with the Dream Maker

by Gilbert L. Morris

  “It’s called Acton.”

  “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t guess none of us have ever been there.”

  Jake said, “It’s kind of a gathering place for scientists—inventors and people like that.”

  “Well, I guess we’d better get over there,” Josh said. “I think we’ll all go crazy just sitting around here looking at each other and staring at pieces of paper.”

  They made preparations at once, gathering together clothing, weapons, some food. Traveling in Nuworld was not like travel in Oldworld. There were no trains, no airlines, no Greyhound buses. By foot or by horseback or by sailing ship was all there was. Travel was dangerous too, for the land was full of marauding outlaws. Even worse, the members of a group called the Sanhedrin had vowed to execute the Seven Sleepers. They were under the command of the Dark Lord, and Elmas, his Chief Sorcerer, had made finding the Sleepers his highest priority.

  It took several days of winding through the forest and staying off the main roads before the Sleepers finally reached the small town.

  “That’s it,” Josh said, “according to the map. So I think we better split up here.”

  “Split up? Why should we do that?” Abbey asked. She was wearing a cranberry-colored skirt and a bolero jacket over a light blue blouse. She looked rather fetching, as she always did. “I don’t want us to split up. Let’s stay together.”

  “No, that won’t do,” Josh said. “The servants of the Dark Lord are looking for the Seven Sleepers. What we need to do is go into town one at a time and find places to stay. Elmas will have his spies there, and if he hears of seven young people coming in together, we’ll be caught for sure.”

  “I think that’s smart,” Reb said. “Old Stonewall Jackson himself couldn’t have figured out a better battle plan than that.” He smiled. “But how are we going to talk to each other?”

  They spent some time figuring out a communication system. Since they would be separated, never to be seen together, one Sleeper would communicate with another, who would pass along the message until all were aware.

  “It sounds awkward to me.” Dave shook his head. “What if we have to get together in a hurry?”

  “We’ll have to figure that out when it happens,” Josh said rather sharply. “No plan’s perfect. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  They followed Josh’s plan, some of them staying outside Acton for a day or two. None went in from the same road.

  Josh, who had remained outside until last, chose to come in from the east. Entering Acton, he noticed at once that it was larger and more sophisticated than most other towns in Nuworld. He had disguised himself somewhat, putting on the clothes of a peasant, and he tried to appear as country as possible. If anyone asked, he was a yokel come to seek work in the city. He’d put dirt on his face, and he thought he looked properly disreputable.

  He approached an inn, entered, and saw that it was almost empty. Two old men sat playing chess and taking sips from flagons that rested on the table.

  The innkeeper was a dark-skinned burly man with a fierce head of black hair. He had quick, sharp black eyes. “What’ll it be?” he asked, then demanded, “You’re a stranger here?”

  “Yes, I am. I come to town lookin’ for work.” Josh slurred his speech. “You know where a man might get work?”

  “Not for the likes of you,” the innkeeper sniffed.

  “Well, could I get a place to stay?”

  The innkeeper hesitated. “I’ve got a room out back over the stable. It’s not much but probably all you’ll be able to afford.”

  Josh asked to see the place, and it proved to be rough indeed. However, it was all he needed. He paid the innkeeper a week’s rent and then asked, “Could I buy a meal?”

  At the sight of money, the innkeeper had perked up. “I’ll have the wife put on a steak. Come in and have a drink on the house.”

  Josh went back inside and sat down. The innkeeper, having a paying customer, grew more talkative.

  “Business seems pretty slow,” Josh said as he sipped at the powerful drink that filled his cup. He had to at least make a show of drinking it, and he smacked his lips as though it were delicious.

  “Aye, times are a little odd.” The innkeeper shook his head dolefully. “I been running this inn since I was a young man. Never seen times like this. Seems like nobody wants to get out at night anymore.” He looked around at the two old men and shrugged. “Up until a while back, the place would be full every night. People come to drink and have a good time. Not no more, though.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Can’t say.”

  The answer was sharp, and Josh felt a sudden resistance in the man. He did not want him to become suspicious, so he asked no more questions.

  After the meal, however, Josh wandered out through the town and tried to make other contacts. Once he passed Sarah, who did not even look at him. He avoided her gaze, too, and passed without speaking. Going to be hard to do, he thought, ignoring Sarah and the others like that, but it’s the safest thing to do.

  Josh discovered little on that first foray, and he went back to his room, planning to try to find out more the next day.

  The next day, however, proved to be frustrating as well. He stopped at a leather shop to get a tear in one of his boots sewed up. The cobbler accepted the boot, looked at it, and said, “Aye, I can fix it.”

  Josh sat down and watched him work slowly and methodically on the boot. From time to time, the man would glance at a clock that was on the wall.

  Josh began to speak idly, admitting he was a stranger in town. He tried to pump the cobbler for details of one of the missing people, a woman named Jewel.

  “Aye, she was here, but she’s gone now. I haven’t seen her. Don’t know where she went.”

  Something about the man’s manner of speaking caught at Josh. His speech was somehow . . . well . . . mechanical was the only word Josh could come up with. It was as if the cobbler’s mind was far away, and when he finally came back he did not speak much.

  When the shoemaker finished the boot and named the price, Josh looked into his eyes. He saw that there was something odd about them. Not their shape, for the cobbler was not a bad-looking fellow—not more than thirty, fair hair, blue eyes. It was the expression in the eyes that puzzled Josh. It’s almost like there’s nobody home, he thought, and even he did not know what he meant by that.

  “Not much going on in town is there?”

  “About like usual, I guess.”

  “What does a fellow do here for excitement?”

  The cobbler stared at him as if he had not heard, then turned away and started working on a belt.

  Everywhere Josh went that day, that sort of thing happened.

  Bewildered, he went back to the inn, where he ate supper. No more than half a dozen people were there that night, and most of them were old. Finally, he went to bed, wearily thinking, We’ve got to do better than this. I’ll contact the others tomorrow and see if any of them has found out anything.

  The next day he met Sarah by prearrangement in a market where a few vendors sold their wares. The two of them seemed to meet by accident and managed to find their way to a deserted section down a side street.

  “I don’t think anybody’s watching us,” Josh said. “What have you found out?”

  “Not a thing, Josh,” she said.

  “You’ve got to have found out something.”

  “Well, what about you?” Sarah exclaimed. Acting hurt by Josh’s tone, she said, “You’ve had as much chance to look around as I’ve had.”

  Josh was irritable and allowed himself to speak back sharply. Soon the two were arguing. Their voices rose, and a man walking by looked at them curiously.

  Instantly Josh and Sarah turned and walked away. “Well, that was dumb,” Josh said. “We’ve got to find a place to meet where nobody can see us.”

  “I don’t think it matters, Josh,” Sarah said. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything here.”


  “We’ve got to find something. This place is the only clue we have. Have you talked to any of the others?”

  “Yes, I talked to Dave. He’s pretending to be a merchant, stopping for a few days in town. He hasn’t found out anything either, and he said he talked to Jake, and Jake didn’t know anything.”

  The two walked on silently until Josh abruptly said, “It looks hopeless, Sarah.”

  “What about the man that’s supposed to help us?”

  “There’s no way for us to find him.” Josh shrugged. “We’ll have to wait for him to come to us. I guess that’s all we can do now—just wait.”

  Sarah stared at Josh oddly. “You’re not yourself, Josh.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean you’re not acting like your old self.” Sarah seemed to find it difficult to explain. “I know you’re tired, but all of us are.”

  “Well, we can get rested up here. Nothing to do but wait,” Josh said moodily. He kicked at a stone and sent it flying. “I always did hate to wait. I won’t get in a line if there’s any way to stay out of it. My folks always said I was too impatient.”

  “Your dad didn’t think so.”

  Sarah had lived with Josh’s family for a time before the Great Burning. It was one thing that tied them together. Josh loved to hear Sarah talk about his parents. They were his tie, in his memory, to his old life.

  “I wish Dad were here,” Josh said. “He’d know how to handle this.”

  It was a futile wish, and Josh knew it. His father had helped them out of the sleep capsules and then had died.

  Sarah took his arm, and he turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be critical, Josh,” she said softly. “I know this is getting to all of us, but Goél said it won’t be long now. The last battle is coming—very soon.”

  “I wish it was here today!” Josh frowned. “Tell the others to get word to me at once if Goél’s servant contacts them. We’ve got to do something soon. Good-bye, Sarah.”

  Sarah watched Josh walk off. He isn’t going to last like this, she said to herself. I’ve never seen him so nervous and upset. We’ve got to do something!

  3

  Oliver

  For five days Josh felt his nerves getting more and more ragged. Every morning he arose, went out on the streets of Acton, visited stores, shops, talked to the people on the streets—such as would listen.

  But absolutely nothing happened. In one meeting with Sarah, he complained, “These people are closer than clams. They don’t talk about anything except the weather.”

  Sarah had been equally disappointed. “It’s like they’re here—but they’re not here,” she said. “I try to talk to them, and they answer back, but they never really say anything, if you know what I mean. They seem to be going through the motions. Their minds are someplace else. And at night there’s nothing doing. It’s sort of like a ghost town.”

  Josh had noted this also, and it puzzled him. He had considered leaving Acton and striking out cross-country in hope of finding Goél—but in the first place, he didn’t know where Goél was. He did know that Goél had entrusted them with this mission, and there seemed nothing better to do than to stay.

  As the days passed, he grew more weary. From time to time, he would see one of the other Sleepers, but they all carefully ignored each other.

  One morning Josh woke up feeling terrible. It was like he was coming down with the flu, although he knew the problem was more a mental thing. Getting out of bed slowly, he moved like an old man. He pulled his clothes on, stared at himself in the mirror, and decided to skip brushing his hair or washing his face. “What difference does it make?” he said aloud to his image. “Nobody’s going to pay any attention to me anyway. It’s like living with a bunch of zombies.”

  He passed through the inn and did not even stop to eat breakfast. He had lost his appetite and sometimes would forget several meals in a row. He could tell he was losing weight from the way his clothes were beginning to hang on him, but even this did not seem to be important.

  All morning Josh walked around the town, slowly, stopping from time to time to sit on a bench in front of a shop. He had stopped striking up conversations, for that seemed futile. All that was left to do was to wait—and he was not good at waiting.

  When the sun was high overhead, he felt thirsty and walked toward a pump that was set in the middle of the street. There was a tin cup attached. He pumped up some of the water and found it had a harsh, metallic taste. He swallowed a couple of mouthfuls and spit the rest out.

  “That’s the worst water I’ve ever tasted.”

  Josh turned quickly. The voice had been cheerful, unlike the voices of most citizens of Acton. He found himself staring at a man of about fifty with a pair of steady gray eyes and a Van Dyke beard. He was wearing khakis and was neat and wiry.

  “Yes, it is bad,” Josh said.

  “I was just going into that inn over there to have something a little better than this water. Care to join me?”

  “Why—I don’t mind if I do.”

  “Come along, then. By the way, my name’s Oliver.”

  “I’m Josh.” It had been a little risky to use his real name, but Josh had chosen to do so. If he took a name such as Tom and someone called for Tom, he knew he would ignore it.

  Walking alongside the newcomer, Josh felt a flash of hope. Here was the first person he had met in Acton who seemed to be alert and open to conversation.

  “Well, innkeeper, let’s have some of your best cider,” Oliver said. “Bring us a whole jug. I’m dry as dust.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  When the innkeeper brought the jug, Oliver paid him and picked up the two glasses. “Let’s sit outside at that table. I like fresh air.”

  “So do I.” Josh followed the man outside, the two sat down, and he watched Oliver fill the glasses. Picking his up, he tasted it and said, “This is good.”

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Are you a stranger here?”

  “Yes, just came in from the country, looking for work.”

  “Not much work going on in Acton.”

  “So I’ve found out. Haven’t been able to find anything.”

  Oliver spoke with some assurance of the countryside. He informed Josh that there was not a great deal of work around Acton, except for someone who had a trade. He seemed relaxed as he sat there, and he talked generally about the town, about the crops, and about what was happening in the world. He seemed to be well informed.

  Suddenly Oliver looked directly at Josh and said clearly, “The stars are doing their great dance.”

  Instantly Josh felt a thrill of recognition. The password! He gave the response, “Yes, and every tree will sing.”

  Oliver laughed out loud, then put his hand out. He grasped Josh’s with surprising strength. “That’s some disguise you have on there, Josh.”

  “Well, it’s about all I could come up with.” Josh began to talk eagerly. “I’d about given up on finding you, Oliver. Have you been here all the time?”

  “I’m in and out. I have to make a living, you know.”

  “Have you made any headway on finding out where the missing servants of Goél have gone?”

  “Not really, but we’ll find them. Where is the rest of your group?”

  “They’re here in Acton. We thought it better not to come in together.”

  Oliver nodded approvingly. “Very wise. The Sanhedrin would have spotted seven young visitors instantly. Let’s think of some way that you and I can be together while we’re figuring out how to go about our problem.”

  “How could we do that?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a little money. Suppose I hire you to do some work for me?”

  “What kind of work do you do, Oliver?”

  “I’m a scientist.”

  “Really? My father was a scientist.”

  “You look like a bright young fellow. You probably have some science in you.”

  “No, not very much, I’m
afraid,” Josh said ruefully. “I guess I take after my mother.”

  “That’s probably just as well. Actually, I’m an inventor. Most of my inventions don’t work, however.” He laughed cheerfully at his own remark. “They all work except for one little flaw, which makes them useless,” he added.

  “What are you working on now?”

  “I’ve found something that I think could be quite potent. It’s not fully developed yet, but it’s quite an invention, if I do say so myself.” His eyes glowed, and he leaned back, sipping the cider. “Yes,” he said, “I could hire you, and that way we can spend a great deal of time together without looking suspicious. Let everybody know that you are working for me.”

  “That sounds good to me. Tell me more about your invention.”

  Oliver leaned forward, and his gray eyes gleamed. “I’m working on something really big, Josh. If it works—” He broke off and laughed at himself again. “I sound like every wild-eyed inventor in the world, don’t I?” Then he sobered and said, “But if it works, Josh, it’ll change the whole world as we know it.”

  “Can’t you tell me about it?”

  “Oh, no. Not good luck to talk about things like that—things you’re going to do. But I can tell you about my smaller invention.”

  “All right, let’s hear it.”

  “Well, back in Oldworld they had things called television.”

  “Why, of course, I remember that. We had a television.”

  Oliver blinked with surprise. “Of course. I forgot you came from Oldworld in the sleep capsules. As you know, there hasn’t been anything like television for a long time—most technology was wiped out. I’d like to hear about television. I never actually saw one. Tell me about it.”

  Josh told about television and about some of the programs that he had liked.

  Oliver listened carefully. When Josh ended, he said, “Well, if you can imagine a combination book, television, and docudrama, that would be sort of what my invention is like.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Come along. I’ll give you a demonstration. We’ll take the rest of this cider with us.”