Lagoon of Dreams

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I’d never had a particularly vivid imagination, so when I had another of the dreams that would wander occasionally through my sleep, I put it down as being the result of the science fiction magazines I’d brought into the house when I was younger. I hadn’t had to sneak in copies of Amazing Stories or Argosy or Astounding Stories as other boys did because no one in the household bothered to see what I carried in my bookbag. As long as I brought home excellent grades, which my parents could boast about, and which, as a child prodigy I was guaranteed to do, my parents gave me free rein to do as I chose.

Although a portion of my mind knew I was safely tucked in my bed, in this dream I wandered the corridors of the exploratory spaceship, Dev’o’s Honor. The captain, who was my friend, wandered at my side. I couldn’t see him clearly—frankly I couldn’t see the ship clearly either, but that didn’t matter; I knew what he looked like—a tall, caring, dark-haired man, who draped his arm across my shoulders. He communicated with me by touching my mind with his. As we walked, he shared tales of the many exploits of his ship.

I and my crew have been sent out to re-chart planets, he explained patiently, giving me the impression he’d told me this before, although I didn’t understand how that could have been possible. The Confederation long since lost contact with them.

The Confederation? Is that like your government?

Mmm. He left it at that, but he was distracted by something, and I was able to peek behind his mental shields. I froze in horror as I saw what he’d had no intention of allowing me to see—Dev’o’s Honor had been sent out on a futile mission. I didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of the politics of the situation, but someone in the Confederation, the loosely joined but harshly ruled group of planets, wanted him dead; as a result, he and his diverse crew had been sent out on this mission. What was worse, they all knew they weren’t expected to return to their home planets.

They’d managed well for a long time—all right, my friend conceded to himself, perhaps not well, but they’d managed—but now the ship was running short of everything: supplies, fuel, and equipment, and with each planet fall he lost more and more of his crew.

David?

I drew up my own mental shield, forced a smile, and began chattering about my decision to study ichthyology. He would never know I’d seen his deepest fears, that his ship would be condemned to wander through space until nothing living remained aboard.

Why don’t you come to Terra? I asked.

He ran his large hand over my hair and smiled down at me. I’m afraid that isn’t possible. Not at this point.

At another point? Perhaps one day soon?

Perhaps…

…I woke abruptly, attempting to hold onto the dream, desperate as I always was, but the harder I tried, the vaguer it became, until all I could remember was that I’d had a dream but not its substance.

Oh, well. That wasn’t something new, and I wouldn’t spend the rest of the night trying to recall it; I’d long since learned it was useless. I had an early class the next day, and I needed whatever sleep I could get.

* * * *

I didn’t usually dream twice in the same night, but this time I did. In this dream, I was once again a young boy, and as such had the reactions of a child.

The corridors of Dev’o’s Honor dripped with moisture, and the lights dimmed and flickered periodically. I skipped along beside my captain and listened avidly as he told me of the creatures that lived on his home world, either swimming in the muddy-brown waters that covered three quarters of his planet or climbing the escarpments that soared into the ochre skies.

I listened—until a crew member sauntered over to join us, and when my captain smiled at him, I saw how much he cared about this being.

David, my captain said, not noticing my reaction. This is my chief engineer.

A flare of jealousy stabbed through me, and I scowled at the chief engineer. Hello. I greeted him grudgingly.

Terran. The chief engineer curled his lip at me and gave a dismissive nod.

The captain was my friend. I curled my own lip back at him, pleased when he seemed surprised. I’d seen my father regard someone who worked under him with similar disdain. I found myself wishing the chief engineer would be one of the crew who never returned from a mission. And then I felt myself turn cold, shocked to my toes by this unspeakable wish. Never in my life had I been jealous—it was an unfamiliar emotion in my family.

I was so ashamed of myself, I drew my mental shield around my horrid thoughts, effectively closing out my friend and—

—gasped as I woke up.

Or had I? Somehow, it seemed as if I were still wrapped in the dream, still on the battered ship, limping through space.

I could feel the captain’s attempts to speak with me, and I rebuffed them. He was puzzled, and more than that, saddened.

Captain. His chief engineer demanded his attention.

What is it? He sounded impatient, but I couldn’t permit myself to feel any sort of pleasure over that because he’d turned to face the man at his side. Not when something dangerous might be going on.

The chief engineer sent a triumphant look my way, although he was careful the captain didn’t see.

I stiffened, tempted to stick my tongue out at the chief engineer. I wouldn’t, though. That was childish, and I was a big boy. While the two men talked, I walked farther down the corridor, away from my friend and his…friend.

The captain thought I was a good boy, but this revelation would demonstrate how very wrong he was if he ever learned of it, and that was something I couldn’t let happen.

I sternly lectured myself on the proper behavior of friends, until I finally felt it was safe enough to reach out and touch his mind again.

David. What happened? The relief my friend accidentally projected was so great I was filled with self-loathing, but again I shielded my emotions from him.

I’m sorry. I was distracted. Some problems gnawing on my mind.

My friend nodded, not questioning the fact there had been problems before, and I had never prevented him access to my thoughts.

The chief engineer snorted. We have more problems than this youngling could ever imagine.

My captain growled at him. And you have more tasks to see to than to tease him. Go follow my instructions.

The chief engineer stalked off, and although he’d closed his mind to me, I didn’t need to distinguish what he was muttering under his breath to understand it wasn’t complimentary to me.

My captain smiled and slid his arm around my shoulders. Let me show you the ship’s felix. She just had a litter of kits. He urged me down the corridor.

It never occurred to me to ask why his chief engineer had interrupted us, something the man had never done before, and the captain didn’t offer any reasons.

And I never considered it could be a two-way street—if I could shut him out, then he could just as surely shut me out…

* * * *

This time, when I woke, I really woke, and I lay there committing every word and action to memory. This time, I swore to myself, I’ll remember every detail.

Finally, satisfied I wouldn’t forget, I fell back to sleep, and I didn’t dream at all.

However, come the morning, every memory of the dream was gone again.