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

blinks and looks away, mildly scandalized; mildly… Goahdamn blush!

“Thank you, people. Just curious,” Miyagi raises his eyes thoughtfully at the floating figure. “He surely attracted attention. Sometimes of the dangerous type.” He laughs, and without further clarification gives Ank a curt nod.

Willem exits the school, distracted, trying to balance the books he is carrying. A woman walks towards him.

Marjolein Mathus.

Ximena tries to repress an involuntary swell of antipathy. This is history, she reminds herself. There are no villains in history; just people and motivations, actions and reactions. Perhaps, she hears Abuelo’s voice in her thoughts, but there are also consequences. We are human, cariño; not machines. It doesn’t come easily to us to detach a consequence from its perpetrator. And should we really?

“Will,” Marjolein calls with a tentative smile.

“Marjo!” He almost drops his load. “Aws Blessings to you.” He gives the woman a shy nod, as his eyes unconsciously check out her small but well-rounded body.

Marjolein seems to notice his reaction and her smile widens. She is wearing a long formal robe, purple with thin golden eye-like symbols on its front and back. “Aws Blessings,” she says. “Are you in a hurry? There is something we need to talk about.”

“I need to pick up Hans from daycare, is it urgent?”

“Well, not urgent, but it is important. Can I walk with you?”

“Uh, of course. Come.”

Willem and Marjolein begin to walk together on the sidewalk in awkward silence.

They join the main street where the center of the colony surrounds them: colonists walking and cycling, alone and in groups, going about their business; some wear expansive hats, others elegant robes, and most plain cloth, working tunics. A horse passes clopping by, pulling a rubber-wheeled cart loaded with wares and passengers. Flocks of children run, liberated from their daily chores. Two dogs bark at each other, restrained by their strolling owners. Just another day in Lunteren.

“I’m surprised you even have time to, uh, be here.” Willem finally breaks the silence. “With the Century Festival preparations around the corner, I mean. It must be a lot of work.”

She sighs, shaking her head lightly. “You have no idea. What a hefty beast to tame. Pure sin. So many arrangements and deals. Everybody wants a piece of it, and everybody wants it their way.”

Willem scoffs. “I’m sure they’re in for a surprise.”

Marjolein laughs. “Oh Will, it has been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“I guess,” he says, eyes on a passing bike as he prepares to cross the street. “I’ve also been…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, as they both quickly cross to the other side before an approaching carriage.

“I know,” she says, and taps his shoulder. “Your family is lucky to have you.”

“You would think,” he sighs. “By the way, I never actually told you. Didn’t have the chance, so…” He stops walking, takes her hands in his, and looks into her blue eyes. “I am proud of you.”

She smiles, opens her lips as if to reply, but then she just presses them tight, and tightens her grip on his hands, her eyes moist.

“I know how hard you’ve worked for this,” Willem says. “Bringing the Century Festival to Lunteren. I am without words, Marjo. This is going to do so much good. So, so proud.” He places a sudden soft kiss on her lips.

Marjolein’s breathing seems to quicken, Ximena thinks, but she just meets Willem’s gaze in silence. Probably too touched by his words—and lips—to reply.

They begin to walk again along the busy sidewalk attracting more than a few eyes. They’re both public figures in a way. And loved by the people, it seems.

“I’m so happy for you,” Willem says, “especially for your career. I know how important it is to you. In a few days, your name will be on the lips of every big shot in aws Head. There’s only one sad side to your success: you will have to leave Lunteren to climb the ladder, but Goah knows it is your destiny.”

“Thank you, Will,” she says, and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Anyway, so what is so important that you had to come in person instead of sending for me?”

“Yes, it’s too private,” she shrugs lightly, “and I thought I wanted to see your face. This morning I got aws Womb’s weekly report.” She beams at him. “Bram and Isabella’s fetus is developing fine. And they wrote down the gender!” She takes his hand and presses. “Do you want to know?!”

“No!” Willem says, dropping her hand. “No, please. Bram and Isabella want it to be a surprise.”

“Don’t you want to know if it’s a Van Dolah baby girl, or a Zeger’s baby boy?” Her smile turns mischievous. “I can tell you right now.”

“Marjo, please no. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Marjolein leans and takes Willem’s arm. “I miss you,” she whispers in his ear.

Willem softly releases himself from Marjolein’s hands.

“Please, Marjo.” He looks uncomfortable. “Is it us you want to talk about?”

“No.” Her smile fades, her eyes flinching with a shade of pain. “I said important.”

Willem says nothing.

“It is about Edda.”

“Edda?” Willem gives her a concerned look. “Is this official Quaestor business?”

Marjolein takes his arm again as they hastily cross another street. This time Willem does not remove her hands.

“We—I mean aws Head—tolerate eccentricities from children,” she says. “It is official Head policy. Children are still learning Goah’s ways, and they need… freedom to explore. But Edda is an adult—and a redeemed. And she holds a prestigious office, as Juf in De Bron.”

“And students adore her,” Willem says, defensively. “Especially the evening adult students. Her teaching style is confrontational, like the philosophers of ancient Greece. I would never admit it to her, but she is a better teacher than I am.”

“Maybe.” She presses herself slightly into his arm. “Who am I to tell? All I know is what I hear. That is unfortunately the nature of my office—that you always get to hear the complaints.”

“Somebody has complained about Edda?” His concerned look has turned more urgent.

“Not