Authors: Mitch Benn
Everybody.
When Terra and Pktk arrived at the lectorium, late (to Bsht’s evident annoyance), the rest of the class immediately forgot what they were doing and rushed to greet them (to Bsht’s evident extreme annoyance).
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What were those flying things?!
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Where can I get one?!
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How did you get into space?!
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How did you get back?!
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EVERYBODY SIT BACK DOWN RIGHT NOW!
Everybody sat back down.
Lbbp let the silence bed in for a blip or two then whispered to Bsht.
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Have you got a moment?
Bsht turned to look at Lbbp with an expression combining all manner of emotions, none of them positive.
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Of course! Why not, it’s not as if I have anything else to do right now . . .
Lbbp and Bsht retired to the corner of the room. The lectorium visualiser, which really was becoming too clever by half, Terra thought, had begun playing the recording of last night’s visions. The class watched it all over again, fascinated and not a little envious.
Terra took the opportunity to address her classmates.
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It’s a dream. That’s all it is. It’s a dream I had last night, and . . .
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A dream?
asked Shnst.
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Like what babies have?
asked Thnst.
Terra sighed. -
Fnrrn babies, yes. Ymns keep dreaming all their lives.
General astonishment.
Terra explained the whole sequence of events, as best she understood it; how she was practising with her Interface (-
yes, I’ve got my own Interface, yes, it has spaces for my ears, no, it hasn’t set fire to my hair again, not yet anyway
), how her dream made its way into the Lyceum data banks and onto the Source (no one was yet quite clear how that had happened) and how poor Pktk’s parents had been awoken with terrifying reports of Pktk floating in space (Pktk smiled ruefully at the laughter this provoked – a lot of his classmates had met his parents).
Fthfth was thoughtful. -
So it didn’t happen. Any of it. It just sort of pretended to happen inside your head . . .
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That’s right,
said Terra.
-
And you get this sort of thing happening inside your head every night? Must be terribly confusing.
-
And tiring,
mused Yshn.
What’s the point of being asleep if you’re still busy inside your head? Might as well just stay up.
-
That’s . . . not really how it works,
said Terra, who’d never had to explain all of this before and was finding that it wasn’t quite as clear in her own mind as she’d thought it would be.
-
How do you know when you’ve woken up?
asked Fthfth.
-
You just sort of do,
replied Terra, immediately aware of what a weak answer that was.
At this point, Fthfth hit upon the vital question of the moment, the one no one else had thought to ask yet but which was, everyone realised upon hearing it, the thing that everyone ACTUALLY wanted to know.
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Could you do it again?
-
I expect so,
said Terra.
I don’t see why it wouldn’t work again. I’m not sure I want to try, though.
-
Why not?
asked everybody.
-
Well, you see,
said Terra, thinking, oh dear, how to explain this,
dreams are sort of . . . private. Seeing everybody else looking at my dreams, it’s not . . . it’s not very . . .
-
Nice?
suggested Pktk.
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That’s it,
said Terra gratefully.
It’s not very nice having everyone looking inside your head like this. When you’re asleep you have whatever thoughts your brain feels like having. What if I did it again but this time I dreamed about something secret, or something embarrassing, or just something I didn’t want everyone else looking at for . . . whatever reason?
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But would you have to be asleep?
asked Fthfth.
What if you put the Interface on and just . . . thought about things?
-
What, thought about things that aren’t real?
said Shnst.
-
How can you think about something when it’s not real?
said Thnst.
-
Well, we can’t, but it looks like Terra can,
said Fthfth with the air of a detective solving a mystery.
Just last night she invented a new species of flying creature and gave Rrth a whole new moon system. Terra can think of all sorts of things that aren’t real when she’s asleep. The question is, can she do it when she’s awake?
Bsht re-entered the lectorium and the class fell silent. Bsht seemed slightly less angry but still about as confused as when she’d left.
-
Right,
she began,
I’ve had the situation . . . explained . . . and it seems there’s nothing to worry about. But I don’t want to find anyone looking at this,
she indicated the dream still playing on the visualiser,
again today please
. She switched the visualiser off. Terra could have sworn the visualiser made a disappointed
aww
noise as it deactivated.
T
he rest of the day passed as without incident as could reasonably be expected. Yes, Terra was the subject of furtive glances and excited whispers wherever she went in the Lyceum, but if she wasn’t used to that by now she was never going to be.
It was during the morning interlude that Terra had her own little revelation. She was pondering Fthfth’s suggestion that she try to use the Interface to capture dream-images while she was still awake. It was an intriguing idea, she supposed, but it would be an altogether different process. Rather than let her unconscious mind go wherever it wanted, she would be steering the course of events herself. Would it be as interesting that way? Could she even do it?
She thought she’d give it a try. She closed her eyes. The end of the previous night’s dream, the one everyone had now seen, seemed like a good place to start.
Terra thought about space. She tried to see herself floating in space, and there she was, inside her head, drifting in the inky void, looking down at stars and distant nebulae.
Terra’s eyes opened. She could do it! She closed her eyes again; the picture was still there. She could summon up images at will.
I don’t need to be asleep!
she thought excitedly.
I can just think of anything I want, and then with the Interface I can . . .
It was at this point that Terra realised something. A little something that would, within a few short days, change everyone on Fnrr’s life for ever.
I don’t need the Interface.
Not to do this, anyway . . . I could still use it for learning like everyone else does – I’m never going to finish this orbit if I don’t – but I don’t need it to record my dreams or anything else I think about.
I could just write it all down.
Terra found a quiet corner of the yard; the other pupils saw her go and decided to leave her alone, or at least Fthfth made this decision on their behalf and informed them of it. Terra had been having one of her ‘interesting’ days, after all, and probably needed some peace and quiet. Terra was lucky to have such thoughtful friends, Fthfth reminded them all.
Terra sat down and closed her eyes.
In her mind she saw . . .
Space, still space. She was in space, floating . . . no, not floating this time, she’d done that already . . . she was . . . Yes! Flying a spaceship. Much more interesting, and plausible, which suddenly seemed quite important.
So, what sort of spaceship? Lemon-shaped like Lbbp’s? No, sleeker, like a l’shft dart, silver and pointy. She was . . . alone? With friends? Alone. Alone in her sleek silver ship. She was . . . what? Looking for something. What, though? Home? Another planet? What else is in space? She ran back through the last few days . . . what had she seen, heard, talked about . . .
Sgth-k-shffs! They live in space. They’d been the subject of one of Gftg’s Interface test questions. Terra only knew about them because of the Interface; it seemed appropriate to incorporate them into this . . . what would she call it?
That was a question for another time. Okay so, sgth-k-shffs it is then . . .
Terra opened her eyes, made a few notes on her slate and closed her eyes again.
She was in space, alone in her silver dart spaceship, and there was a sgth-k-shff drifting in front of her. Bigger than the ship, it swam silently through space, ejecting bursts of plasma from the two vents on its back, propelling itself through the void.
Why am I here, though?
thought Terra, opening her eyes.
Am I involved in these events or just watching? I should be involved; it’s more interesting that way.
Let’s see. What’s so interesting about sgth-k-shffs? They spawn in space . . . spores drift until they find a host planet . . . Grow to maturity in seas and oceans . . . Launch themselves back into space using natural plasma bursts . . . absorb energy directly from stars . . . unique life cycle . . . protected species . . .
That was it, protected species . . . protected from what?
Terra closed her eyes again.
Daktavarian space poachers. That’s what they’re protected from. Hunters from the Silusirian system, preying upon the defenceless sgth-k-shffs for their plasma to power their pursuit ships.
Terra had no idea if there was such a race as the Daktavarians, such a place as the Silusirian system or, indeed, if you could actually power a spaceship with sgth-k-shff plasma, but it all sounded good to her . . .
Here they came, four ships. Nasty metallic cylinders, bristling with weapons, closing in on the sgth-k-shff. And she, Commander Ksh-Gf-Trr of the Interplanetary Wildlife Protectorate (
that sounds great, write it down
) was the only thing between them and the poor sgth-k-shff. She primed her weapons systems and waited.
The lead Daktavarian ship attacked first, firing crackling energy bolts which scorched the surface of her dart-like ship as she evaded the incoming fire with extraordinary skill. She threw the ship into a hard spin, firing retro boosters (
that’s what they’re called, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter
) and pursuing the cylinder from behind. One perfectly aimed pulse-blast crippled its main engine and sent it tumbling helplessly into the void. Now for the others.
The three remaining Daktavarian vessels had arranged themselves in a triangular formation around the sgth-k-shff. Oh no! The attack upon her craft had been a diversion and she’d fallen for it (
that’s good, don’t want to make yourself too perfect, that would be boring
). She gunned the dart-ship’s main grav-engines (
yes, I like the sound of that
) and raced back to the sgth-k-shff which she’d sworn to protect (
sworn? Really? Yes, why not?
).
The Daktavarian vessels had deployed an energy net (
nice
) around the sgth-k-shff; it struggled against the crackling threads. She had one chance at this. She aimed her ship at the space between two of the Daktavarians.
This was going to be difficult, dangerous and risky (
yes, that’s important
). Too close to either of the Daktavarians and her ship would smash into a thousand shards, too close to the sgth-k-shff and she’d kill or injure it herself. An unthinkable possibility, given that she’d made a solemn promise to her dying grandfather, founder of the Interplanetary Wildlife Protectorate, to protect the galaxy’s last remaining sgth-k-shffs with her life (
oh, yes, that’s good, that’s really good
).
Success! She flashed through the gap, Daktavarians above her and sgth-k-shff below, severing the energy net with the needle-sharp prow of her ship. Turning to attack, she saw that two of the Daktavarians were now tangled in the loose threads of the net . . . Trying to power away, they instead swung around and smashed into each other (
ha! Serves them right!
).
One Daktavarian remained (
should think of an interesting way of getting rid of the last one, don’t want to just blast him, that’d be boring. But why wouldn’t I blast him?
). She got him in her sights, but then – oh no! Passing through the energy net had caused her weapons system to shut down (
there you go, that’s why you can’t blast him
)! Frantically she powered the weapons back up, but they’d never be ready in time! The Daktavarian bore down on her . . . what could she do (
it’s all exciting stuff, this
)?
Suddenly, the sgth-k-shff freed itself of the last threads of the energy net and turned as if to go . . . Its plasma vents opened and, just as the Daktavarian’s pulse-cannons fired, it let loose a stream of plasma which blew the Daktavarian into fragments (
oh, nicely done; you save the sgth-k-shff and then it saves you. That’s very pleasing
).
She set off after the sgth-k-shff, and then saw something that made her heart leap and her eyes moisten (
moist eyes, eh? I guess I’m still a Ymn in this reality then
).
The sgth-k-shff had not been drifting aimlessly; it had detected a mate. Sgth-k-shffs communicate telepathically across immense distances (
do they? They do now
) and this one had been answering the thought-calls of another. And now here she (
he? Which one’s which? Who cares?
) was.
She smiled as the two sgth-k-shffs floated away together, their species preserved for one more generation.
Upon opening her eyes, Terra was surprised to find that she actually had tears of happiness in her eyes, happiness for the safe and reunited sgth-k-shffs, which didn’t even exist except in her head and, now, on her slate. None of what she’d written down was real, but if she imagined that what she’d imagined was real, it felt . . . well . . . real. Even though she knew it wasn’t. That didn’t matter somehow.
She looked down at her slate. There it was, the first exciting adventure of Commander Ksh-Gf-Trr of the Interplanetary Wildlife Protectorate. The pinging noise for the end of the interlude sounded and she trotted inside to show her friends what she’d created.