Trickster (2 page)

 
"Are you sure we couldn't get the ship for more time?" Ben asked, quickening his pace. The rounded, blue corridor was wide enough for Ben and Kendi to walk side-by-side. Walls curved down gently to meet the carpeted floor.

 
"I'm sure." The strain lines on Kendi's face tightened. "I've tried twice since we left to get an extension, but the Council won't budge."

 
"It's not like we don't deserve it," Ben growled. "They wanted to give us a parade, remember? Heroes of the Despair, that's us. I think they didn't go through with it only because everyone was so damned busy."

 
"That's why we don't have more time," Kendi pointed out. "With all the ships drafted into courier work--"

 
"Yeah, yeah. I know. We were lucky to get the
Poltergeist
for as long as we did."

 
~Where do we meet, guys?~
Sejal's mental voice interjected.
~Whose turf?~

 
"Mine," Ben said as he and Kendi entered the lift. It hummed as they dropped smoothly downward. "I'm still not very good and finding people in the Dream, and it'll be easier if you two come to me."

 
"You should practice more," Kendi chided, though his dark eyes carried no hint of rebuke. "And you should also comb your hair. It looks like a red haystack."

 
"Who are you, my mo--my keeper?" Ben said.

 
"It's definitely a zoo around here," Kendi said. "Between the Council, Gretchen's griping, the pressure Harenn's been laying on me, and you turning into a loose cannon, it's pretty--"

 
"Hey!" Ben protested. "I've never been a loose anything!"

 
Kendi looked Ben's body up and down with an appreciative grin. "Yeah. You do look pretty tight." Ben flushed but managed to grin back. Kendi could still do that to him, make him feel embarrassed and empowered at the same time. Ben still liked it. When Kendi took command of the
Poltergeist
, Ben had wondered if it would feel strange receiving orders from him, but so far it had worked out fine. After all, Ben had once been under his own mother's command. Maybe he was just used to taking orders from people he loved.

 
Now there's a scary thought for the morning
, he mused.

 
~Are you two coming into the Dream or are you just going to muck around being cute?~

 
"We're coming, we're coming," Kendi said. He and Ben exited the lift and hurried down to their shared quarters.

 
As captain of the
Poltergeist
, Kendi--and therefore Ben--rated the largest set of quarters on board. Ben luxuriated in them like a cat caught in a sunbeam. The
Post-Script
, their previous ship, had been a cramped, tiny tub, with grimy beige deck plating and barely enough room to turn around in. Their quarters on this ship boasted separate living and sleeping rooms, a private bathroom, a kitchenette, and a small office area cluttered with Ben's computer equipment. An adjustable-gravity workout machine occupied one corner and built-in shelves contained a scattering of bookdisks. The furniture was plain but comfortable. Klimkinnar and her moonlets created a spectacular view from the window. Precisely half the living room was a complete mess--clothes, disks, more computer parts, and something that looked like an erector set on steroids cluttered floor and furniture. The tidy half was Spartan by comparison, with a short, rubber-tipped red spear hanging on the wall as the only decoration. The setup was the compromise Ben and Kendi had created so they wouldn't kill each other. Ben could trash one half of the living room and all of the office while Kendi kept the other half of the living room and the entire bedroom pristine. The kitchenette wasn't an issue, since Ben, an aggressive non-cook, never set foot in the place.

 
Kendi took down the spear and pulled a dermospray cylinder from his pocket. Ben pursed his lips and rummaged through the stuff on the floor near the erector set. Kendi sighed and stripped off his clothes, leaving only a loincloth. Then he bent his left knee, slipped the spear under it as if it had become a peg-leg, and pressed the business end of the dermospray to his inner elbow. There was a hissing
thump
as the drug drove home. Kendi cupped his hands over his groin in the classic meditation pose of Kendi's people, the Australian Aborigines. Kendi called them the Real People, and Ben sometimes wondered if that made Kendi a Real Person. He had never asked because he suspected the answer would involve a thwack to someplace tender.

 
"I'll meet you in the Dream," Kendi said. "And maybe now we should pause to mention how you could save yourself a lot of time by--"

 
"Found it!" Ben said, triumphantly brandishing his own dermospray. "I'll see you in there."

 
Kendi shook his head and closed his eyes. Ben started for the bedroom, then paused to look at Kendi. As if sensing Ben's proximity, Kendi opened his eyes again.

 
"What?" he said.

 
Ben reached out and ran the back of one finger down Kendi's cheek. "You. You're so different these days. Sometimes I don't even know you."

 
"What do you mean?" Kendi's pupils were dilated from the effect of the drugs, but his voice sounded tense again.

 
"It's not a bad thing," Ben said hastily. "I just mean that you've become Mr. Responsibility lately, all
we need some options
and
we'll be in the Dream, troops
. It's so different from . . . before."

 
"Before the Despair, you mean," Kendi said in a slightly strained voice. "Everyone has to grow up some time. I guess it was just my turn." He flashed a smile that went straight through Ben. "I'll do something irresponsible after lunch just to keep you on your toes. How's that?"

 
"Deal," Ben laughed, heading for the bedroom again. Kendi closed his eyes, and Ben paused one more time to look at him. Although Kendi kept his voice and his words upbeat, Ben sensed his tension. If they didn't get the
Poltergeist
back to the monastery in time, Kendi's career would go straight down the recycling tube, hero or not, and Kendi would never command another mission. Ben swore to himself that he'd find a way to shorten the search and give Kendi enough time to find his own family after they located Harenn's son.

 
Ben stretched out on the bed and turned the dermospray over and over in his hand. Such a weird situation. For Ben's entire life, he'd been the only non-Silent in his family, the only one who couldn't enter the Dream. His aunt, uncle, and cousins had made his life living hell, and although his mother had never said anything, Ben knew she had been disappointed. Then came the Despair and a quirk of fate that had not only gotten Ben into the Dream, but had torn his family out of it, leaving Ben the only true Silent among them.

 
He set the flat end of the dermospray to his inner elbow and pressed the button. The dermospray
thumped
and Ben closed his eyes to concentrate on making his breathing deep and even. His heartbeat slowed, and colors swirled across the darkness inside his eyelids. The small noises of the
Poltergeist
faded away. He was floating, drifting, bodiless amid whirling colors. Gradually he became aware of having hands and feet again. The colors faded and cleared, leaving Ben standing on a hard white floor in the center of a giant computer network. Organic data processing units reached up like fingers, their DNA matrices glowing green and blue. Magnetic fields pulsed, lights flashed, metal gleamed. Transmission lines and data portals opened in all directions around him, ready to transmit or receive.

 
It was Ben's part of the Dream.

 
Despite a thousand years of study, no one knew exactly what the Dream was, though the prevailing theory held that it was a plane of mental existence created from the collective subconscious of every sentient mind in the universe. The Silent--people like Ben and Kendi--could actually enter the Dream, usually with a boost from a drug cocktail tailored to their specific metabolisms.

 
In the Dream distance meant nothing. Two Silent who entered the Dream could meet and talk, no matter where in the galaxy their bodies might be. The Silent could also shape the Dream landscape, form it into whatever environment they desired. Some Silent--Sejal, for one--could reach out of the Dream and talk to Silent who were in the solid world. And a few could actually possess the bodies of Silent in the solid world. Ben hadn't learned to do any of this yet--shaping the landscape was as far as he could go--but he suspected it would come in time.

 
A few quiet voices whispered on the still air around the network. Kendi said the Dream used to be filled with thousands, even millions, of voices, but Ben had never experienced that. Ben had only been in the Dream once before the Despair, and then he hadn't been paying much attention to details.

 
Ben automatically searched the network--his turf--for flaws. Looked solid. He concentrated a moment. The Dream swirled, and a computer terminal coalesced into being, one with a crisp and sharp holographic screen. Ben flipped through a series of images, checking security cameras and anti-virus programs. Everything was in order, and Ben sighed with satisfaction. This was a good place. A bit unorthodox, but a good place. Every Silent had his or her own turf, full of comfortable or soothing images among which to work. Many Silent created idyllic landscapes or fantastic castles for themselves, but Ben found comfort in his network, a locale where everything fell into place and made perfect sense, where any and every anomaly could be tracked down and explained.

 
A transmission line glowed blue and disgorged a koala bear. It landed not far from Ben's feet, bounced twice, and skidded to a halt. After recovering its balance, it glanced around the network room with a small
whuff
of disapproval.

 
"Tough," Ben grinned. "This is my turf, not yours."

 
The koala grunted, then turned enormous brown eyes on Ben and held up its arms like a child demanding to be picked up. Ben laughed and felt some of his earlier tension ease. "I am not going to carry you," he said. "What are you, a little kid?"

 
In answer, the koala bear leaped straight into the air. Even as its hind claws left the ground, its form shifted like quicksilver and a blue-and-brown falcon flapped across the intervening space to land on Ben's shoulder. The falcon's talons gently pricked Ben's skin through the thin material of his shirt, and Ben had to force himself not to flinch. The little raptor leaned over and nibbled Ben's ear in what turned out to be a surprisingly suggestive manner.

 
"Knock it off, Kendi," Ben spluttered, pushing the beak away. "That tickles."

 
"But you taste so good," the falcon pouted.

 
Ben rolled his eyes. "Is this your attempt to be more impulsive?"

 
"Maybe."

 
A presence brushed Ben's mind, requesting permission enter his turf. At the same moment, a message flickered across the holographic screen:
May I approach?

 
"Hey, Sejal," Ben said. "Come on in. Kendi didn't even bother to ask."

 
Another conduit glowed blue and Sejal Dasa slid into the room. He was a dark-skinned teenager, thin, with startling blue eyes and thick black hair that had a tendency to curl. He looked around the network and gave a low whistle.

 
"Pretty good," he said. "I hadn't seen your turf before."

 
"Thanks." Ben's reply was self-conscious. "I'm still kind of new to all this."

 
"Hey, you're one of the elite," Sejal pointed out. "Numbers are still coming in, but it looks like the early estimates were right--only about one Silent in ten can still enter the Dream these days."

 
Kendi shuddered once on Ben's shoulder. "I guess I should count myself lucky that I can get in at all."

 
"Any luck changing back into a human yet?" Sejal asked.

 
"No."

 
"So how are you guys doing?" Sejal said.

 
"Tired," Kendi replied. "When I'm not in the Dream, I'm in slipspace. The Order have kept us kind of busy in the last six months trying to track down other Children who were caught out in the field during the Despair."

 
Ben resisted the impulse to stroke Kendi's back. "How's the new government doing back home? Is my grandma still shaking things up?"

 
"Yeah." Sejal gave a wry smile. "She's fucking scary, you know that? She was three votes short in the election for Party Head, and none of the Senators who were voting against her would budge. So she talks to three of them. Private, right? And next thing you know, Senator Reza is Party Head. Just like that."

 
"Wow," Kendi said.

 
Ben nodded wryly. "That's Grandma. Heaven help anyone who gets in her way."

 
"Anyway," Sejal continued, "the new Bellerophon Senate is up and running, and the Independence Confederation of Planets is pretty much gone. I hear tell Empress Kalii just vanished--ran away or something."

 
"She was pretty popular," Ben said, surprised. "What happened?"

 
Sejal shrugged. "Got me. It's just a rumor I heard. I do know that the Children are raising their communication rates through the roof--so is everyone else who can still reach the Dream--and since almost nobody can talk between planets these days, everything's starting to come apart. The Empire of Human Unity's falling to pieces." This last came out with a certain amount of glee. "There's talk of recession all over the place. The galactic corps were really hard hit. Their Silent network for orders and money transfers and business communication--" he snapped his fingers "--gone in one shot."