Rew? Never heard the name, Ximena thinks as she shoots an annoyed glance at Mark’s smug smile.
“Rew is looking for candidates for First Contact,” Miyagi continues. “Worthy candidates, for there is a plan for them. She has already selected a few dozen humans and is almost ready to execute her plan. But there’s still time for one or two more. And Edda’s recent activity in the Joyousday House has caught her attention. She is wondering, isn’t she? About Edda. Can you imagine her thoughts?” He turns to his captivated audience. “Anybody?”
Several hands shoot up in the air, including Mark’s.
“Yes?” Miyagi points at a Lundev student close to Ximena who is wearing retro-glasses. His full name appears in bright, bold letters over his head. “Qiao, what is Rew thinking?”
“Uh, what about: is this human motivated?”
“Motivation. Essential, yes.” Miyagi nods. “To do what?”
“Hmm, rebellion, I guess,” Qiao says.
“Uh-huh.” Miyagi nods again. “Rew is indeed looking for rebellious humans, but… let’s face it: half the teens in every place and age fit that description. There is something special she believes to have found in Edda. Anybody want to…? Er…” Miyagi points his finger almost directly at Ximena, “… Mark?”
Mark stands. “Rew is looking for raw potential—for talent. Not many people have that. Look at Edda’s halo, it’s… spectacular!”
Edda’s halo? Ximena squints at the fierce blue refulgence around her sleeping shape. What about it?
“Ha!” Miyagi claps once and points a finger back at Mark. “You are a Walker in the Shadow, aren’t you?”
Mark bows. “At your service.”
“Wow,” Miyagi laughs. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be—I don’t know—earning tons of karma in the dreamnet?”
Mark chuckles. “There’s more to life than karma, Professor.” He seems to enjoy the undivided attention of the auditorium. “There’s also girls,” he says with a wink at Ximena, who blushes instantly. “And history!”
“Oh so true,” Miyagi says, students laughing. “Now, Mark, what do you think? How can Rew figure out if Edda is First Contact material?”
“By testing her, of course.”
“Of course,” Miyagi says, “let’s watch.”
Mark sits and smiles widely at Ximena, very satisfied with himself, as Miyagi gives Ank a curt nod.
Rew begins to move. Gently. She leans closer to Edda, ever closer, until their halos—red and blue—touch!
Ximena leans back with a gasp as the scene seems to explode across the auditorium, shattering into pieces as if made of colored glass, and then rejoining into a fresh scene.
Colors are a notch more… intense. And textures are off somehow. Edda is there, much younger, appearing to be around eight years old. She is sneaking into a large room with a big glass window that looks over the backyard and the vegetable garden of the Van Dolah’s house.
It is a warm summer day, and the glass windows are open. Fresh air and sunlight are streaming in, flooding the room, and Miyagi’s students’ grateful lungs. A large, square table close to the windows is covered with dozens of miniature soldiers lovingly painted in historically accurate Napoleonic-era uniforms. Two armies face each other on a beautiful model battlefield: farms, hills, woods, towns, rivers, lakes, valleys, all painstakingly recreated.
A younger-looking Willem stands by the table and stares at the armies in quiet reflection.
“What are you doing?” Edda shouts from behind him.
Willem jumps. “Ha! You scared me, girl!” He takes her in a wild embrace.
“Let me down!” she giggles. “What is this?” She reaches towards a tiny soldier.
“Whoa, whoa, don’t touch that! This is… war!” He looks at her with open eyes, as if trying to impress her.
“Looks like toys to me. These tiny dolls are ugly.”
Willem laughs. “You caught me, girl. The truth is, it’s a game. In a few minutes your mom will be home from work, and we are going to spend the night fighting this… er, war.”
“You are going to play the whole night? Dad, that is not fair! You never let me! You are a hypocrates.”
“Hypocrite. Yes, I guess you are right. You know what? Tomorrow is Sunday. Let me talk to your mom, and if she agrees, you and Bram can stay and watch the game. Would you like that?”
“Yes! I don’t think Bram will like this, though. It’s for adults and he’s such a baby. But I want to learn the game. I want to play with you and beat you like at chess last week!”
Willem laughs, seemingly pleased. “This is not chess. It is a battle simulation and very realistic, with many rules. Look at this!” He lifts a thick book also placed on the table. “Would you like to read them?”
Edda frowns at the rulebook. “Uh…”
“Tell you what, you read it, and you can play with your mom against me. I’m sure she’ll be grateful for the help. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” she says, radiant.
The scene pauses and begins to rotate slowly over the amphitheater in full visual glory. Young Willem glows with frozen happiness at young Edda, as she enthusiastically raises her fists.
“Do you notice the texture of the scene?” Professor Miyagi asks, as he proudly points with a finger, showing that indeed, the entire atmosphere is not quite right. It is thicker, not fully static, as if immersed in an invisible liquid. It appears real, but not complete. The light is strangely unnatural, the colors perhaps too vivid. “What do you think the dreamsenso is telling us?”
“A dream?” Qiao says.
“I think so as well,” a female student says—Lora is the name that appears over her head as Miyagi points at her. “At first, I thought it was a flashback, or a memory. But it has a dreamy quality to it.” Ximena and other students nod at her words.
“Yes! Thanks.” He smiles, satisfied. “This was a tough problem. When producing this dream sensorial, my team had to get very creative to convey a convincing dreamscape to the audience, you know, a dream inside a dream. In my opinion they nailed it, but I wasn’t a hundred percent. Now I am, thank you!”
Miyagi gives Ank a nod, and the scene shifts again.
