Dreamworms Book 1: The Advent of Dreamtech by Isaac Petrov (drm ebook reader TXT) 📕

low, throwing long shadows. It is not an empty scene. Quite the contrary—it is teeming with people, none older than, indeed, twenty-seven. They are dressed in fine, bright-colored tunics, ornate belts on some waists. The older men and women wear colorful, large hats made of dry branches, leaves and flowers. These young people seem to be celebrating something—with wide smiles and beaming eyes, many are frozen in mid-dance.

“Check that out, people,” Miyagi says, barely visible at the edge of the stage. “The colony of Lunteren on the 10th of December 2399.” He turns and points at the happy dancers. “Any guess as to what we are seeing?”

Many hands shoot up.

“Yes, Qiao?”

“Er, it totally looks like a Joyousday celebration right out of Fahey’s Legacy.”

“Spot on. Let’s watch. Ah, I forgot to say, but you’ll notice that I’ve removed the dramatic effects, symphonic music, camera shifts and all that. That will be all good and fine for the final production, but for us historians, only the naked facts, right? I want you to feel that you’re there, mingling with,” he gestures at the dancers, “our happy ancestors.” With another nod to Ank, the scene comes to life.

The dreamsenso immediately floods Ximena’s senses with a distinct feel of the fresh winter air, her nostrils filling with the smell of wet grass and wooden stoves.

Hundreds of young women and men dance and chatter happily on the grass field. Pop music from the golden age erupts from two large loudspeakers discreetly installed inside the only building at the edge of the field—the Joyousday House, Ximena recognizes. The same house Edda assaulted a few days ago, same walls carved with geometric reliefs. And in the daylight, from a distance, Ximena can now appreciate the roof is made of intricately braided tree branches.

A woman dressed in white—the only person in the celebration who is not wearing colorful robes—is the undisputed center of attention. She is pretty, the youth of twenty-seven years of life tinting her white cheeks. Her long, black hair and eyes contrast beautifully with her dress. When she approaches any group of people, they stop dancing and greet her warmly, exchange some words, and conclude with deep, honest hugs before she moves on to the next group.

The scene view begins to slide sideways, across a myriad of laughs and dances, until it stops at the edge of the gathering where a girl glimpses nervously at every new arrival. She is obviously waiting for somebody. And she looks very upset.

Aline Speese, Ximena recognizes her immediately, the fallen angel. Oh so young still, sixteen—the same age as Edda. She looks splendid in that yellow-and-orange robe—what is that, silk?—that wraps her feminine shape. Ximena squints as she studies Aline’s face. It’s as if she had just seen her somewhere else… That white skin and long, black hair… Oh, she looks just like the younger sister of the woman in white. And as pretty, except that her face shows traces of tears. Oh, Ximena gasps in understanding. That woman is Aline’s mother! And this is her Joyousday.

“Wow.” Mark beside her is staring at Aline with a look close to reverence. “Speese-Marai,” he says the words like he is praying.

Aline shifts from one foot to another, scanning the colony path impatiently, when she sees a tall, black girl with short, curly hair approaching slowly. Aline exhales a breath of relief—or is it distress?—and runs towards her.

“Fucking Mercy, Edda,” Aline says, wide-eyed and voice drenched in distress. “Where in Goah’s Name were you?!”

Edda’s eyes are wet and red, and her colorful tunic is worn carelessly, wrinkled in places. Even her intricate broad belt sits too loose above her hips. She says nothing. She just meets Aline’s eyes, lips pressed together, and drops her chin.

“No,” Aline covers her mouth with a hand and begins to cry. “No, no.”

Edda embraces Aline as tears well up in her own eyes. So they stay, in solidary silence, for a long while, oblivious to the party behind them. The psych-link seems to kick in as Ximena begins to feel Edda’s sorrow and pity. Poor Aline, comes the thought. Followed by a Goahdamn you, Dad. Her rage comes out of nowhere, spilling over the sadness like ocean surf over beach sand, wiping everything in its path. She’s angry. No, she is furious. At her father, of course. He is going to do it, doesn’t matter what she says. How can he be so… stubborn? But mainly she is angry at herself. For failing. It was all for nothing. She feels so powerless. So alone.

“Congratulations, Woman Speese.” An imposing woman—mid-twenties—dressed in the finest robe Ximena has ever seen, approaches from the field. It’s Colony Elder van Kley, Ximena gathers from the psych-link. “Oh, are you all right, dear?”

Aline takes a step back and wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “Yes, yes, sorry, Colder van Kley.” She tries to smile. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure nothing is upsetting you? You look—”

“No, no. It’s nothing. Just the emotions, you know?” Aline forces a smile. “Such an eventful day. So happy.”

Colony Elder van Kley smiles radiantly at her. “And we are so delighted for you. A great day for the Speese Family—for those that left us, and for those that remain.”

“Yes, thank you so much, Colder van Kley. If you’ll excuse us, there is something…”

Aline takes Edda by the elbow and pushes her off the path on a discreet route towards the party. “So, what was in that bottle?” Aline asks, voice still wavering.

Edda snorts. “According to Isabella, just some sleeping herbs.”

“Sleeping herbs? Like for insomnia?”

“Stronger, way stronger. A powerful sedative, but not lethal, apparently. Isabella knew what it was because aws Eye orders it in her pharmacy regularly. They even have a name for it: Joyousday infusion.”

“Can we… can we trust her? Isabella Zegers, I mean.”

Edda sighs, and nods. “Unfortunately, she’s telling the truth. She’s going to be my dowry sister, Aline. Yeah, she’s solid. My dad gave the vial to her straight away. She was the obvious