By Rachel Dib
They come to me for the dreams—bubbles of florescent light that pop behind their eyelids and reveal an elsewhere. They don’t even care where they go. They just don’t want to be here.
I understand. With Earth a hair’s breadth away from total annihilation due to alien laser beams, I get the need for a distraction.
The problem is the price.
As I stared down at the teen with her lank curls and grime-smudged face, I knew she couldn’t handle my fee. She was too thin, the ridges of her ribcage visible through her ill-fitting tank top. No baby fat padded her pallid cheeks. Shadows lined her cornflower eyes. While I sensed a strong spirit, the spirit needed a body to survive. Five minutes in one of my illusions could kill her.
“Go home, kid.”
She shook her head. “The sign says you’ll serve anyone.”
“Anyone with a brain to understand what they’re getting themselves into,” I replied pointedly.
“Well, you left that part off the sign. Out there, it just says ‘all welcome.’” She pointed to herself. “I’m part of the ‘all.’”
“It’s in the fine print. I only serve those who can fully consent to the trade.” I flicked a finger over her figure. “Walking in here looking like this… There’s no way you understand the cost.”
She smirked, and I caught a gleam of yellow teeth. “The cost. Does it really matter at this point?”
“Who knows.” I shrugged. “The Bathasda could get bored and leave.”
She dropped her chin, eyeing me narrowly. “Really? That’s the reasoning you’re going with?”
“Listen, kid, it’s not over until it’s over. That’s all I’m saying. You’re young. Enjoy what time you have left.”
A crunching followed by a boom sounded outside. The ground shook beneath our feet. As the girl stilled, body tense in uncertainty, I knew she was wondering if it was finally the end. If, while she’d been arguing with me, Earth’s defenses had failed, and any moment a green flash of light would decimate everything. That’s all humans thought about, after all: their frailty.
While I knew all was well, like her, I tilted my head toward the ceiling to listen for the ping, pop, sizzle of the laser beams smacking against Earth’s Radial Ring Suppressor. At least Earth had had time to implement an atmospheric defense before the Bathasda army attacked. Plenty of planets hadn’t gleaned so much as a whisper beforehand and had been vaporized immediately.
Maybe it was better that way. But then I reminded myself I needed a community’s sense of hopeless recklessness to stay in business.
“And that’s what I came to do,” the girl said, her tone curt yet raw. “I’ve heard your dreams are worth whatever happens. Even if it’s only one last hurrah. We’re all just waiting for an inevitable end. Why does it matter what poison we choose?”
She paused, and I caught a mixture of emotions brimming behind her eyes: confusion, hurt, despair—but most of all, rage. This girl wanted to fight tooth and nail against her circumstances, tear apart reality from the inside and shred it completely. She didn’t seem one to casually give up.
And yet, she still stood before me, risking a death sentence. Why?
Humans and their contradictions.
I tapped my lacquered nails on the glass countertop and pursed my lips, considering. I’m not a benevolent being, nor have I ever claimed to be. The teen’s continued existence or lack thereof held no bearing in my line of work.
Nevertheless, placing her in the Ether felt wrong.
But why? I’ve never cared before. I licked my lips. In fact, with as much passion as this girl is emitting, I’d be a fool not to use her.
Most of the adults who walked into my shop were way past caring. While my “dreams” still scrounged up enough emotion to collect my fee, all the raw, burning stuff—everything natural and visceral—had long faded.
This girl, though, her ambition was so strong I could taste it. Literally. Passion wafted from her like a rare perfume. My stomach twisted in hunger.
Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to glean her emotions.
She seemed to sense my resolve weakening because she leaned against the counter, her gaze daring. “So, are we going to do this or not?”
“What’s your name?”
The girl shifted uneasily. “Is that part of the price?” When I only stared unblinking back at her, she swallowed. “Clara.”
It was a lie, but I didn’t care. I merely wanted something to call her.
Nodding, I opened the door behind me, and she followed without hesitation. Her steps faltered when she saw the chair. Everyone’s did—and for good reason. Connected to the Ether, the chair’s sleek black frame glowed with the absence of light. It was a shining void, warping the space around it. An impossibility that existed both in and out of time.
I watched Clara squeeze her eyes shut, trying to make sense of the empty space that was obviously a chair.
“Don’t overthink it. Your mind says there’s a chair. Sit in it.”
For a heartbeat, I thought she would change her mind, but then Clara sat.
Excitement welled inside me as I released a stored energy pulse and connected to the Ether surrounding the chair. Then I sucked in. “Close your eyes. Try to relax.”
Clara nodded, but I knew the latter part was futile.
“Sweet dreams,” I whispered and touched her forehead with the tip of my finger.
Swans randomly popped into my mind; so I weaved my illusion around them. As Clara relaxed, I felt her bitter passions seep away. The storm raging within her dissipated—and that’s when I understood why she’d chosen to come to me. While rage kept her alive, it was also slowly tearing her apart. She needed restoration.
She needed peace.
I smiled as Clara’s spirit strengthened rather than weakened beneath my hold. Well now. Perhaps she’ll survive after all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
swans… peace… alien lasers… what’s next?
Good question😁
Very unique story! I like concept of passion/rage tempered with peace. Great writing!
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Good read! Left me wanting more of the story!
It sound like the chair took all the negativity out so no she she could have peace. Would be nice.
The narrator’s voice was intriguing! I wonder if they were moved to more compassion in future…
I want to know more about this girl! Great job getting me invested.