The Silver Dream

by Neil Gaiman

  I didn’t. Then a noise almost too loud to comprehend sounded just next to me, the world lurched, and I fell.

  I remember hearing voices sometime after that, though I didn’t know whose they were. I remember being aware of total darkness, then it got a little brighter, like a light turning on while your eyes are still closed. I remember feeling wrong, like when you fall asleep in a place you’re not used to and don’t know where you are upon waking up.

  I thought I heard crying, and I know I felt a hand grab my wrist. I heard strong, no-nonsense commands from a voice that sounded like my dad, and someone was asking me questions.

  I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t see, and I think I was trying to say something but I don’t know if it was coming out right. I had to tell them Jerzy hadn’t made it to the flag. I had to tell them he would have won, if I hadn’t pulled him toward the cave. I had to tell them what I’d seen before the rocks fell, but I wasn’t sure I remembered what it was anymore.

  “…crippled,” someone was saying, “but it’s not likely…. Several broken bones, multiple contusions, and thirteen stitches, but stable.”

  “This one?”

  “Cracked collarbone and dislocated jaw, sprained wrist.”

  “This one.” The voice was emotionless and methodical. It didn’t sound like my dad anymore.

  “Compound fracture of the radius, three broken fingers, eleven stitches, twisted ankle.”

  Footsteps sounded across the room from me, then the voice again. “Him?” The voice sounded muffled, like the person was facing away from me.

  “Bruising. Dehydration and exhaustion. He passed out from the energy expended to shield them.”

  This place smelled familiar. The air was sharp and tangy but somehow still. It smelled like medicine…. I was in the infirmary.

  “This one.”

  “Proximal humerus fracture, bruised ribs, dust inhalation. The cave protected him from the worst of it.”

  That had to be me. I tried to move, to show I was awake and see how everyone else was, but my body wasn’t responding to the urges of my brain.

  “Not an uninjured one in the whole lot, but only one casualty.”

  “One too many,” the older voice said roughly, and I stopped struggling to move. The words rang in my head louder than anything I’d ever heard, and seeing as I’d just survived a rockslide, that said a lot. One casualty. I managed to ease my eyes open, then squeezed them closed again. They burned and my eyelids felt like sandpaper, but I stubbornly kept at it, blinking to clear my vision. I tried to lift my hand to rub them, and the pain made tears well up. Though they hurt, the tears actually helped, and after blinking a few more times I could see the bright white room and the beds opposite and around me.

  As before, Jai was across from me and Jo was next to me, both asleep or unconscious. Jorensen was in the bed to one side of me, and the large form in the bed next to Jai could only be Josef. Wavy, golden-red hair spilled over one pillow—Jaya.

  I looked around with as much effort as I could muster, identifying everyone I could. Joaquim’s darker red hair was visible from a bed near the door. J/O looked unharmed, powered down and seated in a chair nearby.

  I struggled to sit, ignoring the voices telling me to be still as I continued to look around the room. I saw the tip of Jenoh’s tail and Joliette’s pale skin, one of Jakon’s lightly furred, clawed hands with splints on three of her fingers, but nowhere in the stark white room did I see the bright red feather tips of Jerzy’s hair.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE FUNERAL WAS A lot like Jay’s had been, except I saw it from the front row instead of the infirmary window. I was between Jo and Josef, the only two on my team aside from me who were able to stand. Jai was still unconscious, the least of Jakon’s injuries was a twisted ankle, and J/O was still powered down. He’d been close enough to the explosions that some of his circuitry had been fried. He’d survive, they were pretty sure. They just didn’t know if he’d be fully functional.

  The Old Man stood on the platform in front of a coffin, talking about when Jerzy had first come to InterWorld. He told a brief story about how Jerzy’s enthusiasm for training had gotten him locked in the Hazard Zone overnight once, and some of us laughed. Jo was crying. So was I.

  I’d wondered, at the time, where Jay’s body had gone when he’d died. The box had shimmered and vanished, but I didn’t know where to. In a few moments, the same thing would happen to Jerzy. I wished I could see his bright red hair feathers one more time, but the coffin was closed. He’d been so buried in the avalanche that one of the rocks had crushed his chest, and the Old Man hadn’t wanted any of us to see him like that. When he’d said so, I’d looked again in his expression for the man he’d been in the picture with Acacia. I couldn’t see it, this time. That man had been happy. This one just looked tired.

  I understood the shouting now, too. It was the first thing I’d seen at Jay’s funeral, when I’d watched from the infirmary; as the coffin vanished, five hundred people lent their voices to a single shout, a last hurrah. I hadn’t gotten it then, but now even though my ears rang and my throat itched and my eyes stung, I understood the noise as it left my throat. Though I didn’t use any words, I was shouting Look out! I was shouting This way, there’s a cave. I was shouting I’m sorry. I was saying good-bye. We all were.

  The music played and we all stood there as the coffin vanished. Some of us cried. Some of us hugged. I wanted to take Jo’s hand, but my arm was in a sling and my shoulder was killing me, and I needed my free hand to wipe my eyes so I could see. I wasn’t sure she’d appreciate it, anyway. After all, it was entirely possible I was the one who’d gotten Jerzy killed in the first place.

  I’d played the scene over and over in my mind as I recovered in the infirmary after the funeral. I saw it when I dreamed, and I remembered everything about it I could when I was questioned. He’d pulled me to the edge so we could try to jump. I’d remembered the cave, and pulled him back. A rock had hit my shoulder, and I’d felt his hand slip from mine. I hadn’t been able to see him anymore. Had I tried to call out? I couldn’t remember. Maybe if I’d called out, he could have found me. Maybe he’d have been able to make it to the cave.

  Classes were scheduled as usual that day; the death of a Walker didn’t mean we could take a break. It meant we had to work harder. It meant things had just gotten worse for us. It meant we had one less person standing in the way of HEX and Binary. It meant we all had to band together.

  Except me, apparently.

  “Joey Harker.”

  “Sir.” My voice sounded dull and flat. I was tired; I hadn’t been able to sleep the night after Jerzy’s funeral. I kept dreaming he was falling toward me, and if I could just catch him, I could tell everyone he wasn’t dead.

  “Your injuries should heal in a matter of weeks, three at the most. If you take daily vitamins and refrain from any strenuous activity, you should be well enough to train again in two, maybe even one. See the doctors every night. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’ve been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. You understand what that means?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your daily schedule is cleared until further notice. You will be injected with a tracer, for your own safety. Regular sessions with the therapist have been scheduled.”

  “Yes, sir.” My mind was numb. I didn’t know what else to say—I was just glad they weren’t killing me. Or worse, taking my memories and kicking me out. After all, I knew what the Old Man wasn’t saying: I’d now been present for the deaths of two Walkers. They’d already taken a chance with me; they couldn’t take any more. I wasn’t benched because I had PTSD, I was on probation. One wrong move, and I’d be out of here so fast it’d make my head spin, assuming it was still attached to my shoulders.

  Even though classes were going on as usual, depression hung like fog over Base Town, like something tangible and oppressive. The Walkers I encountered in the halls didn’t
meet my eyes, and most of them just stepped aside to let me pass. Everyone’s shoulders drooped; everyone walked with their heads down and their feet shuffling, looking tired and upset.

  My sling was both a mark of honor and of shame; everyone knew I’d been there. They knew I’d been injured in an accident that had killed a Walker. What they didn’t know was that every time someone stepped aside to let me pass first, every time someone nodded as I walked by, I hated myself a little more.

  I hadn’t been able to save him. I’d been right there, and he’d tried to help me and gotten killed. How many more times was a Walker going to die because of me?

  It was like when I’d first come to Base Town after Jay’s death, but worse. Back then, five hundred people I didn’t even know had hated and shunned me. Now, five hundred comrades were looking at me askance.

  I wouldn’t have gone so far as to call all of them friends. I still didn’t know all of them, at least not personally. Living with five hundred or so other people whose names all started with J made it a little hard to get to know everyone, but at least I’d started to fit in. I’d been just another recruit, aside from my friendship with Hue.

  Now, the quiet chatter got even quieter as I walked into the mess hall, people lowering their voices or trailing off as they glanced my way. I tried to ignore it, just going over to the cafeteria and getting a tray, but I felt like everyone was watching me. I sat down at an empty table, not even sure if I wanted anyone to come join me. The back of my neck felt prickly, like it had out in the field, but without the pleasant exhilaration. I felt like a mouse in a jar. I missed Jerzy, and I was worried about Acacia and everyone who’d been involved in the avalanche. J/O was still powered down and Jai still hadn’t woken up, and it was possible Jorensen would never walk again.

  A tray plunked down opposite me, and I looked up to see Joaquim. One side of his face was covered in scratches and abrasions, and he looked as tired as I felt.

  “Hey,” I offered, trying for a normal tone of voice.

  “Hey,” he said, and we sat in silence for a while, neither of us eating. “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  He glanced at my arm. “Does it hurt?”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t hungry, but I tried to eat anyway. After a moment, he did the same. “You okay?” I asked him in return.

  “Mostly. I…No. Not…” He looked at the food on his fork, then put it down. “Is it always like this?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t know how to answer that. No, it wasn’t always like this, but…when something like this happened, it was always this bad. It was always this hard.

  “Losing people is never easy,” I said finally.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is everyone else going to be okay?”

  “Yeah. Mostly. Jai and J/O are still unconscious.”

  He nodded. “Jorensen? He was down at the base when it happened, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah. He threw Jenoh into Jai’s shield, but couldn’t get close enough himself. More than a few broken bones, some stitches. One of his knees is pretty messed up.”

  “I saw Jo flying right as I fell. She missed the worst of it?”

  “She messed up her wing more trying to glide, but I guess it would have been worse if she hadn’t. Have you heard anything else about Jaya?”

  We went over it again and again, checking on everyone who’d been involved, exchanging stories. He’d been at the top of the mountain when the rumbling started, he’d said. He’d activated his shield disk and jumped. He asked about everyone still in the infirmary—I was surprised that he knew everyone’s name, since he’d just met most of us. He seemed to really be trying to get to know everyone, really trying to fit in. I hadn’t tried half as hard when I’d first arrived…but then, I’d immediately been ostracized.

  “It shouldn’t have to be like this,” he said suddenly, and something about the way he said it, the conviction in his voice, gave me pause.

  “Like what?”

  “Like…this. We shouldn’t have to fight.”

  “We shouldn’t,” I agreed. “But we do. If we don’t, Binary and HEX will take over. They’ll destroy everything, make the Altiverse into what they want.”

  “A silver dream,” he said, turning his fork over in his hands. I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he continued before I could. “Joey…you know a lot of people are blaming you, right?”

  “I’m blaming me,” I said honestly, and he shook his head.

  “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. I was there, I know it wasn’t. But…people are suspicious, anyway.” He hesitated, still playing with his fork. “I heard some of the officers talking…. They’re investigating the possibility of foul play.”

  I just sat there, letting this run through me. It made sense, of course. How could I not have thought about that? The explosions I’d heard right before the rocks had fallen…those hadn’t been blasters, and even if they had been, the stun setting didn’t sound like that. The Old Man had said any actual injuries would be investigated thoroughly. There’d damn well been some actual injuries, so of course they were investigating. And what were they likely to find? Joey Harker, who’d fought with Jerzy right before he’d been killed. Joey Harker, who’d already been accused of selling out his team once. Joey Harker, who’d saved himself and let someone else die.

  I’d been pulled out of the avalanche, too, which was probably the only reason I wasn’t being treated with outright suspicion, but Joaquim had it right. People were suspicious. The sling cradling my arm and healing my fractured shoulder was like my get out of jail free card, except I still wasn’t allowed to pass Go or collect any money.

  I didn’t remember leaving the mess hall, or getting back to my room. I realized at some point that I was sitting on my bed, my shoulder was aching abominably, and the white cloth that held my arm across my chest was splattered with tears. Hue was hovering mournfully beside me.

  “Jerzy was my first friend here, aside from you,” I told him. He bobbed sadly, turning a depressed shade of gray blue. I sat in silence for a while longer, before an idea occurred to me and a faint spark of hope flared in my chest. If Hue had been there, maybe he’d seen what had happened. Maybe he’d be able to show the Old Man it had been an accident, not my fault. “Did you see it, Hue? Were you anywhere nearby?” He flickered, giving the impression of a shrug with a well of color that rose to the top of his sphere and faded downward again. I felt the spark of hope do the same within me.

  “Where were you?” I asked dully, not really expecting an answer. Or that I’d care for whatever answer he gave. Why did things have to keep going wrong like this?

  Hue turned a reddish brown around his lower half, the upper part no single color but a multitude of them, all swirling and blending together.

  I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me, and sighed. “Okay,” I said, and put my head in one hand. I wasn’t tired, but I wanted to be. I wanted to sleep until everything was back to normal again.

  The thought tugged a laugh out of me. I remembered when normal was going to school and coming home and doing homework, trying to get around doing chores and fighting with my sister over the television. I remembered, with a longing so sharp it hurt, what the dinner table looked like and where everyone sat. I remembered when normal was begging Mom and Dad to let us sit in front of the TV with dinner instead of around that table, and playing video games or messing around on the computer while I ate dessert. I remembered how my room smelled when I was about to fall asleep.

  Normal hadn’t used to mean morning classes on oscillating solitons and supercontinuums, martial arts after lunch, then Hazard Zone sessions and various taxa of cacodemons before dinner. It hadn’t used to mean walking around a corner and running into a mirror, only to have your image excuse himself and step around you. There were some people here who still looked so much like me that I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it, no matter how many times I saw them.

  They were all me, but none
of them seemed to have my luck. None of them seemed to have my penchant for getting into trouble. None of them had seen two of us die.

  Hue hovered uncertainly around me for a while, still with that odd multicolored two-tone pattern. I watched him orbit slowly around my head like a planet that’s just been kicked out of the solar system, thinking about how Jerzy already had a place on the Wall, and I didn’t know what to contribute. Maybe I could do what I’d done for Jay, and get dirt from the base of the mountain. Yeah, that was a great tribute. Dirt that’d had a hand in killing him. Very meaningful.

  I sighed, flopping back onto my bed. My shoulder ached at the movement, which only irritated me. No classes, no training, nothing strenuous, and the knowledge that most of my fellow Walkers hated me again. Why was I even here? Well, it wasn’t like I could go anywhere.

  Or could I? The Old Man had said I was suspended from classes, not that I couldn’t leave the base. And I had a tracker in me, didn’t I? Excursions off Base weren’t against the rules, as long as you were careful, signed out, and weren’t gone for too long. There wasn’t anything saying I couldn’t just…go for a Walk.

  That train of thought led to another, and I sat up again after a moment. I knew what to put on Jerzy’s Wall.

  We’d stepped a few worlds sideways after the accident, from what I was told, to make sure InterWorld stayed hidden. Knowing which Earth to go back to wasn’t that difficult; there was a running log of our past locations available to anyone curious enough to look for it, and I had the name in just a few short moments.

  I got some odd glances as I went through the locker room, got suited up in basic light armor—just in case—and headed for the hatch. No one stopped me, though; Base was on low-key lockdown, which meant leaving was discouraged but not forbidden. I’d signed out, put an estimated time of return, and basically done everything like this was just a normal trip. It was just a normal trip. I just…wasn’t a normal recruit anymore.