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

remain between you and the power of the Mind Walker. Do look at them now, and ask yourself if you possess the inner strength to take the prize for yourself, or whether you would rather unburden your fate now, and join Elder Kuipers in going back to your miserable human existence.”

Nobody speaks. They just stare at each other in silence, like they are holding their breaths. Edda glances first at the people she knows: Aline, next to her, and Pieter right behind them, with his brother Janson. Edda’s dowry brother, Gotthard, is to her side, next to that rich friend of his, Rutger. Edda recognizes some other Lunteren faces: Man Rijnder, at eleven probably the youngest present, stands timidly behind the Van Kley siblings. She can beat them all, she thinks. Probably. But the others—the majority—are an unknown. There is no apprehension in anybody’s eyes as they measure each other. Only determination. And defiance. Nobody speaks up.

Ximena draws a deep breath, as if that could shake the electrical anticipation she is feeling. Oh, she is so happy she made it to the Global Program. Professor Miyagi’s seminar is turning out to be more engaging than she could have ever… dreamed. Ha, bad joke. Oh, she is so ready to immerse herself into the nitty-gritty historical details of the Three Trials of Worth and Soul, as history comes to know them.

“I am pleased,” Yog finally says. “Now, do return to your individual dreams to await your first assessment. We shall recall each of you, one by one, to appraise your motivation. Do prepare, for I shall not be lenient in extracting your truth. By the morrow you shall know if you are deemed worthy to even begin Walker Rew’s instruction in the Path of Light.”

Before anybody can react, all humans disappear.

Only twelve mares remain in the empty vastness of the staging permascape.

“I do not approve of your methods, Overseer Yog.”

“You are not required to approve, Walker Rew. Just to acknowledge.”

“I do fear you are not sufficiently acquainted with the art of teaching. An adequate instruction is never a competition. Direct peer confrontation stirs the mind of the apprentice towards aggression and detaches it from self-focus. Many shall fail that would otherwise succeed.”

“Indeed, which guarantees us the two worthiest and most malleable humans among all your candidates.”

“I carefully chose each human for its talent and motivation—most would perform adequately as human Walkers. This selection process of yours—this cull—amounts to an unforgivable waste of resources. We are in no position to delay our goals. Master Gorrobor shall be informed.”

“Master Gorrobor made me Overseer for a reason, Walker Rew. You are too… attached to assess the risks in their entirety. I do fear you lost your sense of context along the way while whispering to all your humans. Now, do call your threaders and bring the first candidate. A long session awaits, and I do expect to get to know each of your humans intimately.”

Eleven

The Deepest Door

Edda opens the door, and her smile widens. “Please, come in,” she speaks like she is greeting an old friend she hasn’t seen for ages. “Welcome to my home.”

The four mares—Rew and Yog—walk into a spacious colonial living room: three sofas around a large, wooden radio receiver, fire in the hearth, heavy carpet, and wide windows.

A solid dream, very realistic, Ximena thinks, as her eyes wander over the classic paintings on the walls—mostly romantic landscapes of the golden age. One depicts an enormous city, its crystal towers extending as far as the eye can see. Another one that catches Ximena’s eyes depicts a harbor, a labyrinth of cranes and piles of containers, dwarfed by the largest vessels the world has ever seen.

“You did expect us, Redeemed van Dolah,” Rew says, as the mares walk in. “Very good.”

“The human is aware?” The three bodies of Yog ask with a single voice.

“No,” Rew says, “albeit her subconscious bubbles right under the surface of awareness. This individual’s halo shines with talent, but with no training, talent is just potential.”

“And yet, the human knows who we are and why we are here.”

“She is indeed subconsciously prepared for our arrival. She does perceive us as… a visit—a social bonding practice among humans.”

“Meet my family,” Edda says, waving a hand at the sofas from where three adults and a toddler watch them in attentive silence. Ximena blinks in surprise. The living room was empty just a moment ago. “That’s my father and family Elder, Willem, with my son Hans.”

Willem, sitting with the toddler on his knees, nods politely, but says nothing.

“And that’s my brother, Bram.”

Ximena looks at the young boy with curiosity. About thirteen, white, broad-faced. Willem’s biological son, obviously—both stare with the same sad brown eyes.

“Would you like to see the house?” Edda asks. “I can do the tour for you.”

“And who is this woman, Redeemed van Dolah?” Rew extends an arm at the black woman sitting on the side sofa: tall, hair falling over her shoulders in airy curls, grave expression, and eyes that pierce the visitors with the intensity of ice shards. Ximena recognizes her instantly; she has seen her before in Edda’s dreams. That is Anika, her biological mother.

“Who?” Edda asks.

“The woman.” Rew points again with the arm, and even wiggles the three appendages at the sofa.

“Oh,” Edda’s eyes flinch over at her mother with a momentary frown of confusion, but immediately turns her attention back to the visitors, smiles brightly, and says, “Great. Then, let’s go, yeah? This way.”

She walks towards a dark hallway which Ximena finds bizarrely out of place. The mares follow.

“How would you like to proceed, Overseer Yog?” Rew asks. “This is, after all, your assessment.”

“You are the human whisperer, Walker Rew. Do your art to expose the human’s motivating force.”

“Very well.” She turns to Edda, who is waiting patiently in the hallway’s doorway. “Redeemed van Dolah, do kindly show us a recent memory.”

“Sure thing! Anything particular?”

“A core memory. Something that did touch you.”

“Core… That touched me… Hmm.” She taps her