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

Dolah.” His voice is almost reverential. He meets Ximena’s eyes and points at the scene. “Check that out, she’s not letting go. She’s using all that pain to dig herself deeper into the dreamscape. No way in hell is she going to wake. Not Edda van Dolah.”

And indeed, although blows and kicks keep raining ruthlessly on Edda’s head and trunk, the waves of the impending wake begin to slowly wane, and the scene solidifies. But the constant pain—intense under the relentless beating—trickles through her consciousness, into the hidden depths of her mind, where memories—painful memories—lie lurking in the dark.

Luuk stops halfway through a kick, and stares at Edda closely. “That’s good enough, Mirjam. We run now.”

“But she’s not dying!” She keeps beating her. “The bitch doesn’t want to die!”

“Look at her,” Luuk points at Edda. “She lost awareness.”

All around the immediate vicinity, the huge trunk flowers and strong singing wind are vanishing. Something completely out of place is taking its place: a flat wooden floor, a bed, a desk.

“If we don’t leave now,” Luuk says, holding his sister by the shoulder, “we might not make it in time.”

“There’s time.” Mirjam stops kicking Edda, but her eyes remain fixed on her. “The others are,” she snorts. “too delicate. We are the best by far.”

“No risks,” he says. “If we’re not underestimating this one,” he points at Edda, “we’re not underestimating anyone! We go. Now.” His voice is not imperative, just as casual as always, but Mirjam nods curtly and both take off, running side by side in controlled tempo.

Only Edda remains on the now fully formed wooden floor, grunting weakly as the pain wears off. It is dream pain after all, thank Goah—it doesn’t linger.

A closet and a door frame rise silently from the floor, and a window frame appears in the air over the desk, curtains unraveling in place. Ximena can see it now, as the place solidifies with astounding realism: it is Edda’s bedroom! Complete in every detail. There are even used gowns carelessly dropped in the corner, and through the window Ximena can see a couple of Lunteren colonists strolling in the morning sun, oblivious to the fact that they are casting in somebody else’s dream. There are no walls, though. Nor ceiling. The door stands by itself, and the window hangs statically in midair. The wild cacophony of the flower storm rages on beyond, undeterred by this small pocket of order.

Two knocks on the door startle Ximena. “Can I come in?” a female voice asks.

“Uh, just a sec, Mom,” Edda says, standing as her wrinkled tunic transforms into a delicate red gown, and her own face turns back in time by two or three years. “Ready, come in.”

The door opens, and a beautiful Anika van Dolah in an elegant white tunic walks in with a plant plot in her hands. She is smiling at Edda, but Ximena sees something else in her eyes…

“I want you to have this, baby,” she says, walking towards the window. She places the plant on the desk.

“Grandma’s cactus,” Edda says.

Anika nods, pressing her lips together.

“What happens?” Edda’s large, innocent eyes avidly scan her mother’s expression. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit.” Anika’s lips curve in an awkward smile.

“But your mum and dad are waiting for you, yeah? You’ll have dinner together tonight!”

“I will miss our dinners, baby.” Anika stretches her hand and caresses Edda’s cheek, her eyes shining with sadness.

“Me too.” Edda embraces her mother. “But you will be so happy. I’m so, so happy for you, Mom.”

“Yes.” Anika places a kiss on Edda’s brow, and takes her gently towards the plant on the desk. “I want you to mix my ashes into the soil,” she says, placing a hesitant finger on the pot. “I will be part of the plant now, and I promise you that when I bloom, you will bloom as well.”

“Bloom?”

“Bloom, baby. To your full potential. I cannot be here to, er, be with you then in person, but Dad will. Do as he says, yeah? He loves you very, very much.”

“Yes.”

“And keep an eye on Bram, yeah? He is still so young…”

“Okay, Mom.” Edda’s voice breaks. Mixed emotions are swirling inside her: the very real happiness for her mother’s reunion with her ancestors, mixed with the sudden realization of her prolonged absence and the wound it will surely leave. “Will you be fine?”

“Is that important?” Anika asks. She sounds vaguely resentful. “Only you and Bram, and Dad, matter. Only…” Her voice breaks, and she presses the back of her hand against her mouth. “Excuse me,” she mutters, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

Edda stares at the door in silence, her confused emotions dissipating slowly and leaving behind a lingering, unpleasant sensation: a seed of pain.

And the seed grows, throbbing grotesquely in her guts like a tumorous organ, until pain covers it all; a constant, sharp pain, not unlike that produced by Smooks’ violence.

“Edda!” Gotthard storms into the room across one of the missing walls. He looks exhausted, hair and tunic out of place from the roaring, singing winds of the flower jungle. “What in Goah’s Name are you doing here?”

“Man Kraker,” she says, smiling mildly. “You look old.”

“You look young! Wake up, dowry sister. You lost awareness!”

“I lost…” she turns her head at the door.

“Come on, Edda. There’s no time. Everyone and their mother have probably reached the exit by now, but we have to try.”

“Man Kraker… Gotthard…” She stares at him with sudden intensity. “Dowry brother?”

“You are dreaming, Goah’s fucking Mercy!” He grabs her shoulders and shakes her. “Return to me!”

“Dreaming…” Edda’s eyes seem to regain focus, and her skin tightens in a sudden reversal of her rejuvenation. She blinks, her old sixteen-year self once again. “What—?!”

“How did you… create all this?” Gotthard waves a hand around the room. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter. We have to go to the exit right now!”

“Yeah.” Edda shakes her head, and then clenches her fists as a sudden spurt of rage bursts inside her. “Smooks!”

“What?”

Edda draws a deep breath.