Storm Dreams (The Cycle of Somnium Book 1) (12 page)

“Cassidy?”

Cassidy stuck his head out to find Ned standing a few feet away, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Sorry I’ve been gone so long.”

Cassidy shrugged. “Just getting ready.”

Ned bit his lip. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Cassidy said, not looking up, but examining several instructional diagrams.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Ned wrung his hands. “I can’t go with you. I’ve decided to stay here.”

Cassidy nodded, but still didn’t look up. “I know. I haven’t been planning on you going.”

“I thought you needed a co-pilot.”

Cassidy put down the papers and looked up. “You’re a good kid, Ned. I like you. When all is said and done, you’re not a bad guy. But you’re a coward. If I took you with me, I might as well kiss myself goodbye, along with any chance of getting anyone out of there alive. I suggest you go back to playing doctor with the Twilights.”

Ned stepped forwards. “I’m not a coward, but you know good and well they’ve already been killed, or absorbed, or whatever it is they do. If
we
go, the Everdream will have everyone.”

“We wouldn’t even be here without Banner,” Cassidy countered.

“But what good are we dead?” Ned broke off and looked at the ground.

“Get on,” Cassidy said, returning to the diagrams. “I have a lot to get ready for.”

Ned remained for several seconds, turned, and left without another word.

Cassidy took a deep sigh. For a moment he’d hoped that calling the boy a coward might awaken something in him. Ah, he’s young, Cassidy thought. He’s young. I’m old.

Cassidy had already checked every aspect of the ship a hundred times. He was stalling now. For all his own talk of honour and bravery, perhaps he’d been too hard on Ned. Richthofen was probably immune to the Everdream. He was a
real
person. A dreamer. Cassidy had as much chance as a drop of water attacking the ocean and Ned surely thought he was on his way to death.

Cassidy sighed, field stripped and reassembled his Mauser. Loaded it cartridge by cartridge instead of using the metal strip. He opened the breech, chambered a round and uncocked the hammer.

Ned hadn’t returned to see him off. Cassidy couldn’t blame him, but the gesture might have been nice. The pocket watch ticked and whirred as he opened it. Soft lights pulsed inside, showing his time and location. Would he have any idea how to read anything but the time while in the Everdream, or would the locator dial just spin? He hoped it would still be able to communicate with its mate Tuck had given him.

Cassidy entered the gondola and wheeled the hatch shut. He sat in the pilot seat and ran his hands over the wood and metal wheel. Captain of his own ship, even if for just one mission.

The bay doors at the end of the hanger slid open on giant toothed gears. “This is it, Old Boy,” he said out loud. He imagined Brewster in the seat beside him. Banner, perhaps, sending him off. The cabin felt vacant, like an emotional vacuum.

He flipped switches, bringing the instrument panel to life. Coloured pieces of glass lit up one by one. Internal cogs and wheels turned. The rear prop rotated and moorings unlatched, allowing the small craft to ascend just above the deck. Cassidy adjusted the buoyancy and glided the dirigible out of the hanger and into the purple skies.

The ship felt strong and stable as he moved away from the island. He was warm. Comfortable. No wind in his face. No pump to keep the pressure up in the fuel tank. The gondola enclosed him completely. The sensation wasn’t altogether appealing.

He couldn’t remember feeling more unsafe going into battle. How could you engage an enemy without the elements around you? His instincts. Senses. They all relied on touching the air. Tasting it. This would be like fighting in a diving helmet.

The dark cloud of Everdream loomed before him. It looked bigger than he’d remembered. Was it coming for him, or was he moving towards it? The cloud surrounding the massive planet-like structure was too big and too close for him to tell the difference.

He considered where in the vast blackness to enter, but doubted it made much difference. The crew could be held anywhere. Even the
Nubigena
would be an infinitely small dot in the planet-sized vastness.

Cassidy kept the throttle to medium as the
Nimbus
slipped through the hazy outer boundary exposing a distant membrane beyond. The dream bubbles pocketed the area between the outer boundary of dense gasses and the opaque membrane like shadowy pods growing off the dark centre. His memory of being here had been a blur, as Banner had gated through with such speed. Passing closer to the pod-like bubbles he saw entire worlds inside. They looked like dark snow globes with smoky gasses obscuring a complete view of the vast landscapes, but he could make out vague interiors. Cities. Cloud buildings. Some entire bulbs were nothing but giant houses that must have gone on forever to whoever roamed its halls at night. Ocean bulbs. Bulbs that looked like chessboards with coloured shapes moving across the surfaces.

It’s my world, Cassidy thought. One of them, or one like them, had been his home for the brief time it existed. Did the one dream he dreamed every night show up here? Was it the same bulb as his dreamer’s bulb, or did the Everdream grow one just for him. And why couldn’t they just pluck him out of it while he slept?

As he gazed at the dark membrane from which the bulbs grew, the image of the purple mass arose in his memory. The Everdream itself, filtered through the atmosphere of one of these worlds, calling out to him. Begging him to return. He grimaced. This was really him returning, not a first visit.

Cassidy moved towards the membrane as several bubbles shrivelled to nothing, while more sprouted in other places. They grew and collapsed in constant rhythm, the Everdream a fertile undulating organism. These were the spines of an enormous living creature and somewhere in the centre must lay the heart and mind. Did it have either, or was it a dead machine whose only purpose was the creation of men’s dreams?

He tried to imagine the sleeping humans in the
real
world, slipping silently into their little dream worlds and waking without any knowledge that somewhere beside their own reality, this thing/world pulsed and thrived, and they were only its nightly guests.

Cassidy pushed the airship past the dream bulbs to the membrane itself. The
Nimbus
ripped through as the thin layer gave way to a sight Cassidy couldn’t take in all at once. The bulk of the Everdream, which at this range appeared to stretch on endlessly, was made up of millions, perhaps billions, or trillions or more of floating rock platforms of various sizes, connected by bridges and columns of the same grey matter. It looked as if a rock the size of a small planet had been worn through by millions of years of wind and erosion, until what remained looked like the skeletal structure of a vast unfinished building.

The airship moved into the immense empty spaces with no trouble. If the structure had not been so open it might have had a cave-like feel, but, instead, the vast gaps opened through to blackness beyond. Bursts of vaporous red and purple gasses filled pockets with a thin haze. At first glance, he would have thought the entire world was dead, abandoned untold aeons ago, but as he neared, he noticed movement across the platform surfaces. He couldn’t make out what it was, but shadows bounced and slithered over the slabs.

Endlessly open, Cassidy thought, but you could hide a billion Zeppelins here and no one would ever find them. He manoeuvred towards the centre, hoping at the very least to make it to the heart of the Everdream and get either his bearings or at least some answers. Then he saw the airships.

Vessels with purple and red stripes moved through the infinite spaces. None flew towards him, but made their way from platform to platform. Were these Armada ships, or vehicles of whatever native race
commanded
the Armada?

A burst of coloured light shot through one of the spaces, followed by more. They bounced off the platforms, bridges and the root-like columns connecting them until they dispersed into the outer membrane. The bursts became more frequent as he made his way closer to the centre.

Other ships avoided the blasts of slow-moving light, so Cassidy did as well. But he steered towards the source of the lights assuming it had to be something important. The mind of the Everdream perhaps.

The bursts increased until they showered like exploding rain. He cut the engines to quarter power as the gap he followed opened into a wide clearing.

Cassidy almost steered into a wall as the source of the illumination came into view, resembling a god-like cloud-shaped creature spewing light. He knew it well. Sandwiched between two narrow slabs stood the
Nubigena
in all her glory. The coloured light radiated where tethers connecting the ship to the stone burst and fizzled, only to be replaced moments later by more anchors. The Everdream was trying to keep her from touching anything solid, but she fought the lines like an untamed elephant.

A blue aura emanated from the Zeppelin’s hull. An explosion burst out as the rudder drifted too close and ate into the stone slab. The rock gave off the bursts of colour, released by whatever corrosive effect the ship had on the Everdream.

It’s
real
, Cassidy thought. The ship’s too
real
for this place, and they don’t know what to do with it. Tethers continued snapping and now he could see the machines on the surrounding platforms shooting more lines down from harpoon guns.

Cassidy gritted his teeth and edged the
Nimbus
into the corrosive blue aura. The tiny craft shook as he manoeuvred atop the
Nubigena,
the blue energy tearing at the metal and fabric. Here the dreamship was different than outside the Everdream. Softer. He steered over the gun platform, as the
Nimbus
began disintegrating. He fell through the floor and landed on the
Nubigena’s
cold metal turret, clinging to the handle, his leg dangling down over the rough canvas.

Above, the
Nimbus’
gas bladder sprung a leak and deflated above him. He pulled himself to the platform as the rest of the small airship melted onto the
Nubigena
and became a puddle of coloured goo. Cassidy’s chest ached watching it die.

Cassidy turned away, opened the hatch and made his way into the
Nubigena’s
cavernous interior. He slid down the ladder and gazed up at the inflated gas bladders. “Karl,” he yelled. The engineer’s quarters were empty. He stepped down into the gondola and ran yelling, “Banner, Franz, anyone!”

He’d hoped the Everdream would keep the crew captive on the ship, but no such luck. Cassidy now wondered, as he walked between the very solid
real
walls of the Zeppelin, why he and the others didn’t disintegrate touching the ship. The Everdream had to be made of different stuff than what they used to create dreams. Or perhaps...

It’s my will, Cassidy thought as he touched the cool metal of a door latch with his bare skin. My will is keeping me solid. His head swirled as he thought about that. Something Banner had once said. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it meant
something
. About him. About what he was.

Cassidy shook the feeling away and continued exploring the ship. Plenty of time later for thinking about his existence if and when he got out alive.

His quarters lay untouched. Nothing missing, except the crew. He searched the empty spaces of the ship, the nooks and crannies where no one ever went. There had to be something. Some clue as to where they’d taken everyone.

Cassidy crawled into a repair shaft beneath the floor, aided by a flashlight he’d found in Brewster’s room. Perhaps Banner had left something for him. A message. A weapon. Cassidy swept his light over the dark interior. A pale shadow twitched in a far corner of the shaft. It lay prone in a space no bigger than the wraithlike body. The skin and clothing was translucent, aluminium girders showing through like phantom ribs. Was it dead?

The dark head turned. Vacant eyes opened and looked at Cassidy, or rather through him as if blind. Cassidy peered closer. The face was shaggy with a bushy beard. The hair looked as though it had grown wild for months, and the ghostly grey eyes had dilated to pools of black.

Cassidy recognized something familiar about the figure. He’d met this ghost, only it hadn’t been a ghost. It reached out as if trying to touch clutch Cassidy’s arm from twenty feet away. Cassidy crawled towards it, inching forwards on elbows and knees. Staring deep into the face, he bit back a scream. “Jayce!” he shouted. “Jayce, my God man, is that you?”

The poor creature trembled at the mention of his name. He croaked through dry lips. “Darkness,” he said, his voice distant and strained. “Darkness. I am nothing. The void is…”

The void. Nietzsche’s void. The horror of what must have happened struck Cassidy like a round of Spandau shells. The desperate lad must have crawled into this space, trying to escape the void they’d flown through. How long had that been? The poor devil must have lost his mind in the darkness of the little crawl-space, thinking he was still in the void all this time. My God. “Jayce,” he said, again. “Jayce, it’s Cassidy. I’m here. You’re here. Come back.”

Jayce looked right at him, but couldn’t seem to focus. “Cassidy?” he murmured. “Cassidy. You’re Cassidy. We just picked you up.”

Cassidy nodded emphatically as he pulled himself over to the ghostly shape and laid the flashlight on the floor so it lit them both. “Yes, yes. But that was a long time ago. Come back now. Come back.” He grabbed Jayce’s hand. It was hard to hold onto. Soft and airy. He had to concentrate to keep his hand from slipping through like ghostly flesh. Will. He had to use pure will. “You’re here Jayce. You’re on the
Nubigena
. You’re Banner’s man. You remember Banner?”

“Banner,” Jayce said. His eyes closed as if trying to lock onto something. “Banner. The ship. Brewster. Franz. Karl. Charlie,” he said. As he spoke, his body became more substantial. He clasped Cassidy’s hand in a death-grip, then lunged to embrace him. They held each other in a tight embrace as Jayce solidified. “I’m Jayce,” he said, as he pulled away, his focused gaze locking onto Cassidy. “I’m Jayce.”

“You are,” Cassidy said. “You’re Jayce, and I hate to tell you this, but we’re in the deepest trouble you’ve ever seen.”

“Just trouble,” Jayce said. “Thank God, I thought I was in Hell.”

They crawled back into the main Gondola, though the young airman had to grip Cassidy’s belt to keep going. Cassidy dragged Jayce to his feet and filled him in on everything that had happened, repeating himself several times as the young pilot’s head bobbed in slow rhythm. He took it well considering the recent trauma. Jayce sighed when Cassidy had finished. “What do we do now?”