Dreamer:

A Novel of The Silent Empire

Steven Harper

Chapter Two

The Dream

An empire is a prison to which not even the ruler holds the key.

—Emperor Bolivar I, Musings of a Warrior

Mother Adept Araceil sighed as Kendi and Gretchen vanished into the trees. Both of them were odd in their way. Gretchen had a mouth, and Kendi was, well...Kendi. He had some strange views. What she knew of the Australian aboriginal tribes of Earth did not quite paint a picture that resembled her best and most powerful student.

Ex-student, she reminded herself. Kendi had taken his vows to become a Brother almost a year ago, but Ara still hadn’t made the mental adjustment. He was certatinly powerful. She knew of no one else who could split his mind into two pieces in the Dream. But his attitude!

At least he’s better than he once was, she thought ruefully. It’s hard to remember sometimes.

Ara stood up and concentrated for a moment. Her mind cast out, searching for a pattern she had been given. When she found it, she willed herself to let go of her garden.

She found herself in a grand hall with polished floors of gray marble and soaring pillars. The pressure of someone else’s Dream perceptions pushed on Ara’s mind, ordering her not to dictate reality. With a deep breath, Ara forced herself to comply. It was like making herself let go of an ocean life raft. Even after decades of Dream experience, it was hard for her to give up control.

It had been pure hell keeping this fact from Kendi.

A furious tapping of footsteps clicked toward Ara, and a clawed creature the size of a small bear approached. It had a flattened head and rounded body, with furry arms that ended in stubby fingers. A silver Seneschal’s chain ringed its neck.

“Who are you and what do you need?” the creature asked. It wasn’t speaking her language, of course. Language did not exist in the Dream. Here, the Silent communicated by direct exchange of ideas. Ara’s mind, however, automatically transformed the concepts she received into language.

Ara bowed and gave her name. “I need to send a report to her Imperial Majesty. Is a Silent messenger available, Seneschal?”

The Seneschal clacked its claws on the polished floor. “I have instructions to convey you directly to her Imperial Majesty for any report, Mother Adept.”

Ara blinked, then hurriedly followed the Seneschal, who was already clicking across the hall to a great set of double doors. Ara gathered her robes, wishing she had more time to prepare. She wasn’t ready for another Imperial audience. Her knowledge of Imperial etiquette was limited, and the idea of looking the fool filled Ara with dread.

The Seneschal opened the great doors and guided Ara inside. The room beyond was midnight dark except for a dozen tiny lights floating that floated slowly about like fireflies.

“Choose anyone you like,” the Seneschal said. “The Empress awaits.”

Ara made herself reach for one of the lights at random. It—he—froze at her touch.

May I use your body, Silent brother? she asked.

I live to serve, came the reply. Count to ten that I may position myself.

Ara counted, then pushed. She found herself kneeling on a pillow. Green-blue grass covered the ground, and a fresh summer breeze wafted around her. Ara’s head was bowed low, all but touching the ground.

“You may rise, Mother Adept,” said a female voice.

Ara brought herself to a kneeling position and used the time to take stock of the body she possessed. It was a well-muscled male. Brown hair dusted his forearms, and his torso was lean and strong. He wore voluminous black trousers and a collar, the marks of a Silent slave. A thrill rippled through Ara. No matter how often she did it, she always found it incredible that her body was light-years away while her mind was here, on another world in the body of another Silent.

Ara snuck a glance at her surroundings. Her first audience with the Empress had taken place in a small room, when her Imperial Majesty had personally informed Ara, one of the Children’s most successful recruiters, that she was to lead an expedition to find the body behind the mind Kendi had sensed in the Dream. This time Ara was in a white pavilion large enough to shade two or three acres. Several slaves stood poised with food and drink while a handful of others knelt on pillows similar to Ara’s. Armed guards were posted all about the pavilion.

Directly before Ara was the Imperial Majesty herself, the Empress Kan maja Kalii. She sat on a pillow which sat, in turn, on a raised dais. The Empress was close to Ara’s height, but angular and lean, with ebony-black skin and equally dark hair piled high on her head. Tiny jewels orbited her head in lieu of a crown. Silky blue robes cascaded down her shoulders. Ara couldn’t even hazard a guess at her age. The air around both Ara and the Empress shimmered slightly, meaning Kan maja Kalii had activated a sound dampener to ensure their words remained private.

“Speak, Mother Adept,” the Empress said. “You have a report?”

“I have, Imperial Majesty,” Ara replied, and explained what had happened when the Post Script arrived at Rust. The slave’s deep voice sounded odd in her ears. “The government is surely suspicious of us, but we’ve already begun searching for the child,” she finished. “I doubt the Unity Silent have uncovered its presence. My stu—that is, Brother Kendi will look for it in the underground slave market while Sister Gretchen and I explore the legal venues.”

“Is it wise to send Brother Kendi along this path, Mother Adept?” the Empress asked. “As I recall, he is someone who sometimes—these are your words—’needs to be sat on.’“

Ara bowed to hide her startlement, though she didn’t know why she was surprised. If Ara were in the Empress’s sandals, she would have accessed every file she could get her hands on too.

“Brother Kendi has grown in the months since I wrote those words, Imperial Majesty,” Ara said. “He also has a knack for making underworld contacts, and his ability to locate people within the Dream is uncanny. He is still the only Silent who has sensed the child, after all, and he was able to narrow its location to a single planet. Not only that, he identified the child’s ability to possess the non-Silent.”

The Empress nodded. “Very well, then. I also want you to continue reporting directly to me, and not your superiors among the Children of Irfan. This child’s existence must be kept a secret as long as possible. Your skill and discretion in similar matters is why I chose you directly and I expect you will live up to your own high standards.”

Ara bowed her acquiescence. The Empress rose and began pacing the dais. Everyone in the pavillion, including Ara, scrambled to rise as well. A small tickle at the back of Ara’s mind told her that the drugs were wearing off. Soon she would have to return to the Dream, and from there to her body. Was it proper to tell the Empress this? Or was Ara expected to hang on until her mind was sucked back through the Dream and into her body? That would saddle her with a disorientation that might confine her to bed for days.

“I’m nervous, Mother Adept,” the Empress said. “Brother Kendi claims he has felt this child reach through the Dream to possess other minds, willing or not. Such a child would have the power to topple empires, including this Confederation. What if this child possessed me? Or another ruler? The balance of power between the Independence Confederation and its neighbors is delicate. One mistake could mean war.”

“Anyone would know instantly that you had been possessed, Imperial Majesty. The child would not have your knowledge or experience. It would be impossible—”

“We always thought it was impossible for the Silent to possess any but another willing Silent,” the Empress pointed out. “Who knows what else this child can do? What if the wrong people gain control of this child?” She paused. “I’ve been thinking, Mother Adept, and and I’ve decided that the safety of this Confederation is more important than the chance to...study this new form of Silence.”

“Imperial Majesty?”

The Empress sank back to her cushions, though everyone else remained standing. Her regal face was blank as stone. “If, in your opinion, this child would pose a threat to the Independence Confederation, I want you to destroy it.”

“Impossible!” Ara blurted. Then she flushed. “I mean, I don’t—that is—”

“I know, Mother Adept,” the Empress said gently. “I understand.”

Ara gathered her wits. “Imperial Majesty, I haven’t so much as struck another person since I was a child. How could I—”

“It’s no easy thing,” the Empress agreed. “But it may be necessary.”

Ara opened her mouth to protest again, etiquette or not. Then she noticed the hard brown Imperial eyes upon her. Those eyes represented over fifty billion lives. Thousands of those lives could be extinguished if someone made a bad decision. Millions of them would end if someone declared war. Ara snapped her mouth shut. One life against so many. The Empress met her gaze, let her look. After a long moment, Ara swallowed.

“Yes, Imperial Majesty,” she whispered.

“Thank you, Mother Adept,” the Empress said. Her voice was tired. “I have laid an onerous duty on your shoulders, and I take responsibility for the child’s death, if it comes to that. You are but the scalpel that does the bidding of the doctor.”

“Yes, Imperial Majesty.”

The Empress nodded. “I’m sure you need to return to your body, Mother Adept.”

A dismissal. Ara bowed and knelt on the cushion. As she let go of the slave’s body, the Empress spoke again.

“If you have trouble making this decision, Mother Adept,” she said, “think of this: what would happen if the general populace learned of a Silent who could control the unwilling and non-Silent?”

Ara found herself back in her garden. The slight dizziness was accompanied by a terrible chill. The desire to return to her body was growing steadily, but that need didn’t shut out the Empress’s last words.

What would happen...?

Ara shivered. On most Confederation worlds, the Silent were either monks in the service of Irfan or slaves in the service of the Empress. On other worlds, the Silent were treated as potential threats and hunted down with ruthless efficiency. On still other worlds, the Silent were tolerated or even respected—as long as they kept their place. True, there were equally as many worlds on which the Silent were treated the same as other “normal” professionals, but even in these places, Ara always felt a measure of underlying mistrust.

What would happen if the general populace learned of a Silent who could control the unwilling and non-Silent?

Ara knew the answer. Riots. Witch hunts. Executions.

It had happened before, had been happening since the time of Irfan Qasad. Ara had been lucky, and she knew it. On Bellerophon, Ara’s homeworld, Silence was considered a holy blessing, and most Silent ended up with the Children of Irfan. Their major striving was to train the Silent in the use of their gifts and to ensure that they followed ethical practices. Most stayed with the Children after completing their training. They taught or researched or administrated or performed the intersystem communication work that kept the order solvent.

After the discovery of slipspace, they also recruited.

Slipspace granted easy travel to non-Confederation worlds, letting the Children seek Silent who had been sold or were being persecuted or had remained ignorant of their gifts. Ara herself had bought and freed nearly three hundred slaves and outright stolen dozens of others.

The tickle nudged her again. Ara was about to leave the Dream when something landed at her feet with a splat. It was a pear, one so rotten it had turned black. Several other dotted the ground.

What in the world? Ara thought. She looked up at the tree above her. Every pear was rotting on the branch. So were the oranges in the other trees. She stared. The hunger to return to one’s body often interfered with the concentration necessary to hold a Dream world together, but she had never experienced anything like this.

A roar boomed across the garden. Behind the wall rose a terrible monster with green skin and long fangs. It stepped over the wall with another roar and reached for Ara with a clawed hand.

“Hello, Kendi,” she said amiably. “Did you do the pears, too?”

The monster melted and vanished, leaving a wide-eyed koala bear in its place. Kendi emerged from behind a tree. He was wearing the linen shirt and trousers Ara usually conjured for him. The koala sniffed at the rotten pear.

“Didn’t even faze you, huh?” Kendi said, reaching down to scratch the koala’s ears.

“No. It was a good monster, though.” She nudged the pear with a toe. “Well?”

Kendi looked down. “Not me. I noticed it earlier, though, and figured I’d better come back after my sister—” he gestured at the koala “—lead Gretch to the Rustic Silent.”

Ara stared at the trees and concentrated. She expected sweet oranges and firm pears. This was her Dream, and by Irfan she would have them. Nothing happened.

The ground dropped away. Ara lost her balance and fell several feet. Her breath slammed out of her lungs when she hit. The earth thundered beneath her and a thousand cracks tore the garden wall.

“Kendi!” she shouted.

“It isn’t me!” he yelled back. “What the hell is—”

A pit yawned beneath him and he vanished with a shriek.

“Kendi!” Ara lunged for him, but he had already disappeared. A brown blur of movement leaped into the darkness. A moment later, the falcon, grown impossibly large, rose on laboring wings from the pit. Kendi hung by one arm in her talons. The ground vibrated, and clumps of earth dropped into the depths. Ara grabbed Kendi’s free arm and helped the falcon haul him to solid ground. The moment his weight left her, the falcon flashed back to normal size and fled to the skies with a defiant scream. The earth continued to rock and rumble under their feet, making it a struggle to keep their balance.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Kendi gasped. Ugly welts and scratches marked his arm. Psychosomatic memory would carry them over into his real body. If he had fallen into the pit, his body would have perished with his mind.

“Where’s Gretchen?” Ara asked. “Is she safe?”

“She’s that way,” Kendi gestured. Gretchen’s exact location instantly came from Kendi’s mind into Ara’s, even though the words she “heard” were vague and imprecise. Quickly she grabbed Kendi’s wrist.

“Mother, wait!”

But Ara had already moved them both. A wooden deck popped into existence beneath them. Cool, crisp air washed over Ara, filling her nose with the scent of salt and sea. White sails creaked above them. Beside her, Kendi’s Dream form wavered like a bad hologram, then snapped into focus. He fell retching to hands and knees. Ara looked around. Although the ship was moving steadily up and down, everything looked stable. Kendi continued to retch.

“You aren’t really sick,” she said. “It’s all in your head.”

“Thanks for the sympathy,” Kendi said, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.

“What’s going on?” Gretchen asked. She stood behind them at the helm, the giant spoked wheel held loosely in her grip. Gretchen wore a pirate shirt and sailor’s cap, as did Ara and Kendi.

“Are you all right?” Ara said.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Gretchen asked suspiciously. “I talked to some Silent on Rust, but they won’t say much. The Unity’s got them scared shitless. You aren’t checking up on me, are you? Because if you are—”

The tickle to return suddenly blew into full-fledged need. It was worse than having an overfull bladder. Gretchen was all right. The rest could wait.

“I’m leaving,” Ara said. “Get out of the Dream, both of you. That’s an order.” And she let go of the Dream.