Nightmare

exploded into a whirling cacophony of colors. Nausea fluttered in Lizard’s stomach before the porthole darkened.

'Perfect,' Ara said. 'I’m sure you have a great many questions by now, and I’ve come down to answer them. Lizard, do you want to join us?'

'That’s not my name,' he said firmly.

Ara nodded, as if she’d seen the phenomenon before. 'All right. What is your name?'

'Kendi,' he blurted, then blinked in surprise. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say Evan. Why had he said Kendi? Then he remembered some of the stories the Real People Reconstructionists had told around the fire on walkabout. A kendi was a magical lizard, quick and intelligent. He thought about it for a moment, then nodded to himself.

'Kendi,' he repeated. 'My real name is Kendi.'

'Very well, Kendi,' Mother Ara said. It was both odd and pleasing to hear someone else say it. 'Would you like to join us? If you’d prefer to be alone-'

'No,' he said. 'No, I’m all right.' Lizard-Kendi-drew his chair toward the little group which had formed around her. The others made room for him.

'First,' Ara said, 'let me explain a few things. As you may have guessed, I don’t work for a corporation.'

They nodded in unison. 'Did you really pay for us?' Kendi asked.

'Oh yes-with good, hard currency. Once I determined each of you was truly Silent, I submitted the instant-buy bid and that was that.'

'Instant-buy bid?' Jeren said, his green eyes all but glowing with intensity. An old scar framed the outside of his right eye and Kendi wondered if his owner had done that to him.

'The auction is silent, meaning no one knows what anyone else is bidding,' Ara said. 'But the auctioneers always set an outrageously high price that you can pay if you want to buy on the spot instead of waiting for the bidding to end. I submitted that bid for each of you, and that was that.'

'Youhavethatkindofmoney?' Kite said. He spoke quickly, the words running together like drops of mercury.

'The Children of Irfan do,' Ara told him. She settled herself more comfortably in the chair. 'We’re a monastic order. It’s our duty to find Silent, especially enslaved Silent, free them, and bring them back to the monastery on Bellerophon. Before you ask, no-you are not required to join us. You are not required to do anything at all.' She leveled them a clear, steady gaze. 'You are free citizens. No slave bands, no owners, no obligations to anyone but your own, free selves.'

'Sure, sure,' Jeren drawled. 'You fork out that kind of cash and don’t expect a thing in return? Next you’re gonna ask me to pull your finger.'

Willa made a shushing noise. 'Don’t get her angry. She could make us slaves again.'

'No,' Ara said emphatically. 'Absolutely not. You do, however, have a choice to make. You can come with me-with us-to Bellerophon and study under the Children of Irfan. The Children will give you room, board, clothing, and a small stipend. You will receive a general education '

'Wadwedofyou?' Kite said, and Kendi had to think a moment to separate his words.

Ara seemed to do so as well. 'What do you do for us? Well, if you complete your training with us and take your vows as a full Child, you’ll work for the monastery one day for each day you spent in training. During that time, you’ll receive room, board, and a larger stipend. Once your debt is paid, you can leave the Children or stay with us. It’s up to you.'

'We have to work for you?' Jeren said. 'Sounds like slavery again.'

'Yeah,' Kendi chimed in, also suspicious. 'What if we get there and decide we don’t like it?'

Ara smiled. 'You have a year to decide. After that, you’re technically a contract employee. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to sign on.' She raised a finger, forestalling Jeren’s next comment. 'And no, we don’t leave you stranded on Bellerophon as an incentive to get you to sign. All Silent slaves we buy are given two gifts. The first is your freedom. You have that. The second is a voucher for free passage on any ship to anywhere you want to go. I’ll give you that when we arrive on Bellerophon. You can use it right away, or you can save it to use for later. It’s good for life. If you decide not to stay with us, you can go wherever you like.'

Kendi relaxed a little. 'What if we don’t complete the training? I mean, you must have people drop out.'

'It happens,' Ara said. 'If you drop the training before completing it, you still have to work for the Children one day for each day we trained you. It won’t be in the Dream-you need to complete your training to do official Dream work for us-but there are plenty of other jobs around the monastery that need doing.'

'WouldweloseourSilence?' Kite asked.

'Certainly not,' Ara said. 'We wouldn’t do that even if we could. But there is a clause that states you can’t do Dream work for another company for at least three years after you leave the Children. Otherwise we’d become a free training ground for the competition.'

'You got all this in writing?' Jeren demanded.

'Every word. I’ll bring you all a copy of the policies along with your vouchers. Other questions?'

'Why did you pretend to be a trader from a corporation?' Willa asked in a tiny voice Kendi could barely hear.

'It’s easier,' Ara said. 'There are a lot of people who don’t like the Children. Corporations like the Silent Partners don’t care much for us because we don’t want the big profits they do and we can undercut their prices. Slavers have a grudge because we set people free, which takes them off the market and denies slave-sellers a future commission. If I had come in as Mother Ara of the Children of Irfan, for example, your instant-buy bids would have gone up even higher. They might have even refused to sell to me.'

'WhendoeeriveBellephon?' Kite asked.

Ara blinked as she straightened this out. 'We arrive at Bellerophon in about an hour, I think. This is one of our faster slipships. We’ll get you settled in right away.'

And maybe, Kendi thought suddenly, I can find Mom-in the Dream.

CHAPTER FIVE

We need to learn to speak through Silence. Even the dead have something to say.

— Irfan Qasad, Founder of the Children of Silence

Mother Araceil Rymar do Salman Reza dropped her bags on the foyer floor with a sigh. It was a relief to be home again. The windows in the house were open, letting a pleasant summer breeze waft through the screens. Outside, the deep green leaves of the talltree that supported the house rustled, and far below came the roar of a dinosaur. The newly-rescued slaves were in the capable hands of Brother Manny, who would get them settled in for the night and thereby free Ara to go home for the evening.

Then she heard it-a strange metallic clank. She frowned and stepped over her suitcases, following the noise. It came again and again in a rhythm that echoed off the hardwood floors and walls. Ara followed the sound, mystified, until she came to her son Ben’s room. The noise came from behind the closed door. She knocked once.

'Ben?' she called. 'I’m home.'

The noise stopped for a moment, then resumed. 'Come in.'

Ara opened the door. Ben was lying flat on his back on a narrow bench amid a series of levers and pulleys. He was pushing a curved horizontal lever straight up. Behind him, a short stack of black metal weights rose into the air, then descended with a clank. Ben’s freckled face was shiny with sweat, and his flame-red hair was darkened with it. The veins stood out on his arms as he struggled to lift the bar again.

'Hey, Mom,' he grunted. 'Good trip?'

'Ben, what in the world?' Ara said. 'What are you doing?'