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

“Something that pushed through your inner self. With violence.”

“I know!” she says cheerfully, like she just thought of what to wear for a party. “This way.”

As Edda enters the dark hallway, she flicks a switch on the wall, but nothing happens.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Lights aren’t working today. Happens now and then, hope you don’t mind.”

“Do proceed, Redeemed van Dolah.”

They walk into the hallway. It is long, its end lost in the deepest darkness. The walls are packed with identical-looking doors on both sides, no space separating each from the next. Edda stops in front of one of them. “I think you’ll like this one,” she says, opens the door and walks through to a field flooded by daylight.

As the mares cross the threshold, Ximena immediately recognizes the setting: it was a few days back, when Edda and Willem were walking back from Aline’s mom’s Joyousday celebration. They are arguing.

“Goah’s Mercy, Dad. I don’t want you to die in two months! Remember when on Mom’s Joyousday—?”

“Edda, that’s enough!” Willem shouts at her, red-faced. Ximena feels Edda freeze in shock at her father’s unusual fury. “I will not hear any more of this. You will respect my decision. I expect to have some peace in my last weeks of life.”

How dare he? How dare he?! Edda just wants him to see that there are more important things than reputation. Life, for once, Goah’s Mercy! Rage bubbles up inside her. He’s so unfair, so short-sighted, so…

“I hate you!” she shouts. “You don’t have the right to leave us!”

Uncontrolled tears well up in her eyes. Goahdamnit, this is not helpful, she thinks as she runs away, fueled by pain and dread of the future.

“I do fail to understand,” Yog says. “This human dislikes her parent. And yet she wants him to stay alive.”

“Do not let the words fool you, Overseer Yog. Human speech is as unstable as the surface of the ocean during a storm. After centuries of study, I have learned to find the truth beneath the waves. This human loves her parent with unusual intensity, even for a young female.”

Edda, the one that entered with the mares, observes their exchange with the distant patience of an attentive hostess, yet Ximena feels the pain of the fleeing Edda echoing inside her, leaving behind a dreadful sensation.

“And yet,” Yog says, “I do fail to see how something as insignificant as the affections of a cub for her parent qualifies this human as a candidate to tread the Paths.”

“It is hard to fathom, Overseer Yog. But love is a stronger emotion than self-preservation among humans. I can assure you that this candidate shall yield adequately to the imperatives of the Reseeding effort, as long as we assist in her keeping her father alive.”

Yog’s three bodies regard the sad eyes behind Willem’s glasses as they follow her daughter running down the street. “Intriguing, but unconvincing, Walker Rew. That the human’s inner drive is but a single bond to a single individual is… frail. I do require more self-focus on our human Walkers. Unless there is more to this subject, we shall hasten to the next candidate.”

“There is more to this human, Overseer Yog. She is a complex individual. It shall take more of our time, but she is worth the inspection. She brims with raw talent.” Rew turns to the Edda standing by the doorway to the dark hallway. “We do wish to see more, Redeemed van Dolah. Do lead us deeper.”

“Deeper,” she says, and the blunted pain inside her grows in intensity.

Is it anxiety? Ximena doesn’t know, but she can feel Edda wetting her dry lips as she slowly leads the mares back into the hallway.

She paces along the row of anonymous doors, towards the deeper darkness. Is it getting hotter in here? Ximena’s glimpse at Mark reveals his intense attention on the scene, and the perspiration on his temples. It’s funny how realistically their dream bodies react to the permascape.

“Anything particular?” Edda stops and turns to her guests. “I don’t think there is much more to see. Should we return to the living room and get us all some tea with pastries?”

“Take us deeper into yourself, Redeemed van Dolah,” Rew commands.

“My dad just got this box of soft fluffy cookies from one of his students that just made the Rhine-Baltic circuit. They are delicious. They’ve got this amaaazing—”

“You shall show us now,” Yog says. “Yield or be disqualified from treading the Paths.”

Edda blinks in confusion. Something inside her understands the implications—the compulsion—of the mares’ words. She turns towards the darkness, and paces on, step after step, each one further tensing her pain, like someone is trying to pull her soul out of her skin. A grimace on Mark’s face reminds Ximena that she is not the only one psyched-link to Edda.

It is so, so dark now—no light at all reaches this far inside Edda’s hallway, but Ximena can still see in that weird way dreams allow you to perceive beyond the limits of your wake senses.

Edda stops, throws a glimpse at one of the doors, and presses her lips together.

Rew reaches out, opens the door, and—followed by Yog—enters the same living room they just left behind at the beginning of the hallway. It is early in the morning, bright daylight streaming through the windows. A much younger Willem is sitting on one sofa, reading a book. Anika is lying on the other sofa, hands behind her head, an open book on her belly, eyes lost in thought. A soft fire glows timidly in the hearth. It is warm and cozy. Safe. The feeling streams through Ximena as an eight-year-old Edda runs down the stairs and throws herself on to Willem’s lap.

“Ouch!” He laughs and embraces her. “Watch out, girl. I’m softer than you think. You done with your homework yet?”

“Uh, almost, Dad. I have a question on Civics.”

“Another one, huh? Shoot.”

“When Mom and you meet aws Embrace,” Anika turns her head towards her, “how are you going to tell me and Bram