Page 41 of The Dreaming


  “I don’t want to throw a damper on the evening, but I actually find that prospect quite disturbing. Mainly because it’s rapidly becoming true. There are a lot of them here now, millions.”

  “I’d have thought the rush for housing will benefit you as much as me, probably more so.”

  “Financially yes,” the blond said, holding up a kebab of spiced torkal and pork, marinated in red honey. “But multiples don’t fit into the Living Dream ethos.” He bit into the meat and started chewing. “We didn’t exist in Makkathran,” the Oriental one explained.

  “Surely they’re not against your lifestyle, are they?” She had an unpleasant thought of how devoted Mareble and Danal were to their ideology, to the complete exclusion of just about everything else. That didn’t make them hostile, just unaccepting.

  “Oh never actively, no. Perish the thought. Their precious Waterwalker wanted everyone to live together and get along without conflict. But tell me this, how did your buyers react when they found out you weren’t sharing the glory that exists only within the gaiafield?”

  “Surprised,” she admitted. “Then I think they wanted to convert me.”

  “I bet they did.”

  “It won’t last long,” she assured him. “As soon as the Pilgrimage starts, they’ll all flock away to join it. My couple told me that. They’re only here because they think this is where the Second Dreamer is hiding.”

  “Which is equally disturbing.”

  “Why?” she asked as she poured herself some more of the excellent rose wine.

  “If you’re the next chosen one, why hide? And more than that, why keep releasing the dreams that let everyone know you exist and are in hiding?”

  “I don’t understand anything about Living Dream. The whole thing seems stupid to me.”

  “The word you’re looking for is dangerous,” the short one said. “Too many impossible promises; too many people believing. Bad combination.”

  “You’re an old cynic’

  All three of hims at the table lifted their wine glasses. “Guilty and proud of it.”

  “You have gaiamotes. Are these second dreams real?”

  “Is a dream real?” three mouths grinned in unison. “The dreams exist. Everything else is down to personal perspective. If you want to believe in them, then the Second Dreamer is somewhere out there receiving dreams from a Skylord somewhere inside the Void. If not…”

  “I don’t know what to believe. I’m almost tempted to get gaiamotes just to find out.”

  “Take it from me,” said the blond. “It’s not worth it. The gaiafield is just another fad that got hijacked by a bunch of fanatics.”

  “Why did Ozzie invent it?”

  “He said so that people could understand each other better. If we had more empathy we would be more peaceful. Nice theory. Haven’t seen it having much effect on human nature recently.”

  “Yet you wouldn’t exist without it. And you think you’re the future.”

  The Oriental Mr Bovey produced a modest smile. “True. And I doubt Ozzie envisaged us, either.”

  She held her wine glass close to her face, and dropped her gaze demurely. “I never envisaged you.”

  “There’s a lot of things we don’t know about until we encounter them.” The Oriental Mr Bovey pressed up against her and plucked the glass from her hands. She liked the warmth of him against her. On her other side, the blond one stroked her cheek and turned her unresisting head for a kiss.

  She closed her eyes. Hands stroked her spine. Hands stroked her legs. The kiss went on and on.

  “Come with me,” one of hims instructed.

  The kiss ended, and she saw all three of him smiling in that way, gentle and knowing, not bothering to conceal his anticipation.

  The three hims escorted her to a warm second floor bedroom where the lighting was a cosy candle-flame orange. She stood at the end of the bed while they stripped off in front of her, just the way she liked, making her the centre of attention, the centre of desire. Then it was her turn, removing her clothes slowly, showing herself off, drinking in the admiration from hims, exultant with approval. When she was naked, hes began to explore her flesh with formidable intimacy. “Yes,” she finally shuddered in delight, and they lifted her on to the bed.

  ***

  Rushing headlong through space the creature could feel stray molecules kiss its broad vacuum wings as it stretched them wide. Scintillations from the tenuous impact dripped from its trailing edge, leaving a weak contrail of fluorescence through the empty gulf. Ahead, a star gleamed bright against the glorious background of an undulating turquoise nebula, creating a warm pressure of photons which so very slowly assuaged its physical nourishment. The creature spun leisurely in the rich torrent of light as it listened to the thoughts grow stronger on the solid planet that was still lightyears away.

  One thought was exceptionally clear. “You see, you have to rest now; if you were multiple another body could simply carry on. The ecstasy would continue for hours. More bodies could perform at the same time; imagine that pleasure you’ve just experienced doubled, quadrupled, increased tenfold. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t your life be so much better, so much greater…?” The thought dwindled away into the vastness as the solar wind cooled and dimmed.

  There were only two of hims asleep on the bed when Araminta woke. She checked the time in her exovision and groaned in dismay. Five past seven already. There was so much to do in the third apartment today. The bots should have spent the night stripping out the old tiles in the fifth apartment, but her u-shadow revealed they’d stopped work at three in the morning as they encountered a problem their semisentient software couldn’t cope with. She had two prospective buyers for apartment four arriving before noon.

  “Great Ozzie,” she complained as she heaved herself out of bed. No time for a shower. She grabbed the clothes she’d worn to dinner last night—which really weren’t everyday garments. Must bring a bag with some decent clothes for morning. Would he object to that?

  She escaped the bedroom without waking the Mr Boveys. Scuttled down the stairs, raking fingers through awful strings of tangled hair. The smell of coffee and toast was permeating out of the big kitchen. Which was sorely tempting given her body’s chill. I must ease off those booster aerosols. Surely a single minute spent with one cup of tea wouldn’t jeopardize the whole day?

  She put her head round the archway to smile into the long open-plan kitchen diner. Five of hims were sitting round the breakfast bar, with another three lounging in the big old settee. “Hi—” The smiled faded from her face. A woman was perched on the sixth stool at the breakfast bar wearing a big fluffy towelling robe. One of hims had his arm round her, hand lovingly massaging the base of her neck. The woman glanced up from a big mug of steaming coffee, and pulled a delinquent face. ”Oh hi there. I’m Josill. I guess I was being worn out by the half of hims you weren’t with last night. He’s good sex, huh. I managed four.” She grinned round proudly at her entourage of Mr Boveys.

  Araminta managed to freeze her expression before she did anything petty like glare or pout or start shouting about what a useless pile of shit he was. “Right,” she said in a croak. “Got to go. People I’m honest with coming to see me.” She headed for the front door, as fast as she could without actually running. Even managed to get outside. Her old carry capsule was resting on the gravel pad. Fifteen metres away.

  “Just hold on.”

  She turned. It was the body she’d had that first dinner date with. He always used that one to talk to her with when it was something serious. Obviously working the whole age equals wisdom angle, with maybe a little trust mixed in. “Drop dead,” she snapped. “All of you.”

  “You knew I would date other women.”

  “I…” She spluttered with indignation. “No! Actually, no I didn’t! I thought we—” Some stubborn little part of her was desperately trying not to cry in front of him. What the point was with someone who knew her so completely eluded her—still
she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much she cared.

  “Listen to me.” He stood in front of her, taking a moment to compose himself. “You are a lovely, fantastic person. I haven’t met someone I was this attracted to in years. And I think you know that.”

  “Well this is a—”

  “Funny way of showing it? No. No. That’s a single person’s line, not mine.”

  “How ridiculous,” she shouted.

  “Maybe you’ve been trying to hide from this, I don’t know. Adjusting to multiple life does take time. It isn’t easy, and you’re upset.”

  “I’m not upset,” she announced haughtily.

  “I have a great time with you, every time no matter where we go and what we do, and that’s the problem. Think on this. You are a wonderful, healthy, strapping, girl with a huge sexual appetite. Every man’s dream. And I’m always amazed and excited by how many of mes you take on when we go to bed. But not even you can physically satisfy thirty-eight male bodies every night. We’ve been going out all this time and there are still some of mes you haven’t met, let alone had sex with yet. You get me all hot and randy, and every time you do that the majority of mes are left frustrated.”

  “I… Oh. Really?” It was kind of obvious when he explained it like that. But he was right, it really wasn’t something she wanted to think through.

  “I can only take so much. Josill and the others help release the pressure you create.”

  Others. Again, something she didn’t want to consider. This whole multiple thing was turning out to be one giant complication. She took a breath and stared at the gravel round her feet. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I didn’t consider that part of it. It’s been so good for me I just assumed it was the same for you. Singles thinking, huh.”

  “Yes.” He put a hand on her shoulder. It comforted her—that whole wise and sympathetic thing still. “But I’m hoping, really hoping we can work through this.”

  She gave the door a guilty glance. “I’m not sure I can get round the idea of you having sex with her as well. Were you… no. I don’t want to know.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Waited patiently.

  Araminta sighed. “Last night, were you having sex with both of us at the same time?”

  “Yes.”

  A particularly malicious thought crept out of her mind. “And she could only cope with four?”

  “Fraid so.”

  “Poor girl,” Her little spike of humour withered away. “I don’t know about this. I’m not sure I can cope. There would need to be so many women. That’s not part of a long-term relationship.”

  “Listen, I said you were special right at the start, and the more I got to know you the more I know that I don’t want to lose you.”

  “So what do you do? Get half of you neutered? I really can’t… not thirty-eight.”

  He grinned. “That’s my Araminta, considering it even now. But there’s another option, isn’t there?”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer straight away. Instead his hand touched her chin, tipping her head back until she couldn’t avoid staring into his eyes. Eventually she gave a defeated little nod. “I get myself some extra bodies,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I’m not going to browbeat. I couldn’t do that to you, it would be wrong. The decision has to be you alone. I just want you to think about it. You’ve seen all the practical benefits first hand. And I reminded you about the sexual advantages again last night.”

  She fixed him with a firm stare. “Tell me: if I do this, would you stop dating the other women? Would it be just you and me?”

  “Yes, emphatically, just you. Yous in my life, yous in my bed. Cross my hearts. I want this Araminta, I want this so much. I wish you had gaiamotes so I could show you just how serious I am. We’ll just have to settle for registering it at City Hall instead.”

  “Ozzie! A marriage proposal and a lifestyle change in one. And it’s not even half past seven yet.”

  “Sorry you had to run into it like this.”

  “Not your fault. You’re right, I should have thought about this. So I’ll be a big girl and think about it properly now. Don’t expect an answer right away. This is a hell of a lot more than I’m used to dealing with in a day.”

  His arms went round her, hugging tight as if he was the one seeking reassurance. “It’s momentous. I remember. So take all the time you need.”

  ***

  He rode the gigantic horse for hour after hour, his young legs barely stretching over the saddle. In the distance were real mountains, their snow-capped peaks stabbing high into the glorious sapphire sky. He was leaving them behind, riding away from the forests that covered the foothills. It was wild veldt beneath the hooves now, lush tropical vegetation split by streams and small rivers. Trees from a dozen planets grew across the low slopes, their contrasting evolutions providing a marvellous clash of colour and shape. Hot air gusted against him, heavy with alien pollen.

  His friends rode beside him, the six of them shouting encouragement to each other as they wove around the knolls and ridges. None of them yet adult, but now finally old enough to be trusted out on their own. It was days like this which made sense of his life, full of freedom and joy.

  Then the cry went up. “The king eagles, the king eagles are here.”

  He scoured the brilliant sky, seeing the black dots above the rumpled horizon. Then he too was yelling in welcome, his heart pounding with excitement. The horse ran faster as the noble lords of this world’s sky grew larger and larger.

  Red lights flashed across the heavens. The king eagles elongated, black lines curving and twisting to form a grey rectangular shape. His horse had vanished, leaving him lying flat on his back. The red lights turned violet-blue and began to retreat as the top of the medical chamber opened. A face slid into view, peering down. He blinked it into focus. Very pretty and heavily freckled, with a mass of dark red hair tied back.

  “You okay?” Corrie-Lyn asked.

  “Urrgh,” Aaron told her.

  “Here drink this.” A plastic straw was eased into his mouth. He sucked some welcoming cool liquid down his sore throat.

  “What?” he mumbled.

  “What?”

  “What happened?”

  “You’ve been in the ship’s medical chamber for a couple of days.”

  He winced as he tried to move his arms. His whole left side was stiff, as if the skin had shrunk. “A moment,” he told her. His u-shadow flipped medical records into his exovision. He skipped the details, concentrating on the major repairs. The damage had been more extensive that he expected. The projectile entry wounds combined with firewire mutilation and toxin contamination meant the medical chamber had to cut and extract a lot of ruined tissue and bone from his chest. Foreign meat had been inserted, neutral-function cells which could have their pre-active DNA switched to mould the cell into whatever organ, bone, or muscle function they were replacing. He spotted a supplementary file, and opened it. The foreign meat stored in the chamber actually wasn’t so foreign, the DNA was his; it also had full-complement biononic organelles.

  The repairs had been woven into his body by the chamber and his existing biononics. They were still integrating which was why he felt so awful. Estimated time for the biononics to complete the binding and the cells to acclimatize to their new function was a further seventy-two hours.

  “Could have been better, could have been worse,” he decided.

  “I was worried,” she said. “Your wound was huge. The blood…” Her face paled, even the freckles faded.

  Aaron slowly shifted his arms back along the chamber padding, propping himself up. At which point he realized he didn’t have any clothes on. “Thank you.”

  She gave him a blank look.

  “I should be thanking you, shouldn’t I? What happened? The last thing I remember was you hitting Ruth Stol.”

  “That little princess bitch.”

  “So? What came next?” Aaron swung h
is feet over the lip of the capsule; his inner ears seemed to take a lot longer to register the movement. Bulkheads spun round him, then twisted back. The starship’s cabin was in its lounge mode, with long couches extending out from the bulkhead walls. He hobbled over to the closest one as the medical chamber withdrew into the floor. Sitting down he tentatively poked his chest with a forefinger. Half of his torso was a nasty salmon pink, covered with some glistening protective membrane.

  “I did what you suggested,” Corrie-Lyn said. “The capsule smashed its way into the reception hall. I just got inside when there was this almighty explosion over the forest. It knocked the capsule around quite a bit, but I was caught by the internal safety field. We zipped over to the administration block. You were… a mess, but I managed to pull you inside. Then we rendezvoused with the Artful Dodger outside the clinic, the way you set it up. The starship put its force field round the capsule while we transferred in. Good job. The police were going apeshit with me. They were shooting every weapon they had at us; there were craters all over the place when we took off. I told the smartcore to get us out of the system, but it followed your preloaded flightplan. We’re just sitting in some kind of hyperspace hole a lightyear out from Anagaska. I can’t make a Unisphere connection. The smartcore won’t obey me.”

  “I loaded a few options in,” he said. His u-shadow gave the smartcore an instruction, and a storage locker opened. “Do you think you could get me that robe, please?”

  She frowned disapprovingly, but pulled the robe out. “I was really worried, I thought I was going to be stuck here for ever if you died. It was horrible. The medical chamber would rejuvenate me every fifty years, and I’d just sit in the lounge plugged into the sensory drama library being drip fed by the culinary unit. That’s not how I want to spent eternity, thank you.”

  He grinned at her drama queen outrage as he slipped the robe on. “If the chamber could rejuvenate you, it could certainly re-life me.”

  “Oh.”

  “In any case, if I die, the smartcore allows you full control.”

  “Right.”

  “But!” He caught hold of her hand. She jerked round, suddenly apprehensive. “None of this would have happened if you’d been ready to pick me up when I told you.”