1 The Dream Rider (15 page)

I turned in 360 degrees, staring out at the audience.
Their disbelief was the only thing that overwhelmed the utter silence of the
room. In the box, Jari’s face was the definition of shock, while the emperor
remained stoic. Though, I could swear I saw his eyes squint if only for a
second. Then he moved, it was subtle, but he waved his right hand at the game
master. Jari nodded slowly and lifted his microphone. You could have heard a
pin drop in the place. No one made a peep.

“Ladies and g-gentlemen,” he stammered. “We have a new
winner. In his first ever games, Finn McClaren of Earth!”
 

There were a few claps at first. Then a few more joined
in. A few moments later, the entire arena was wrapped in uncertain applause. I
wanted to say something clever or give them a gesture. Part of me wanted to
give a one-fingered salute. After all, they’d just been cheering for the other
guy. I could see myself on a few giant screens at either end of the arena.
Everyone was looking at me. I decided instead of feeding Mallock’s little ruse,
I’d go the other direction.

I re-sheathed my sword and trudged back to the giant door
through which I’d come earlier. I stared straight ahead, never even glancing
into the crowd or the box. As I neared the doors, they began to open and
several guards stood ready on the inside, guns drawn. I held out my hands
showing them I meant no mischief. One of them grabbed my wrists and pulled them
around hard to bind them. “How did you do that?” he asked angrily as he shoved
me forward between two rows of suddenly-trigger-happy men.

The adrenaline rush had begun to wear off and I felt like
my ordinary self again, as if a surge of power had filled me then switched off
after I no longer needed it. I answered him under my breath, doubting he could
hear me. “I wish I knew.”

The guards shoved me back into my suite. I heard one of
them talking about how he’d lost a lot of money betting against me. I hid my
grin as the doors closed behind. Even though I smiled, inside I was a torrent
of emotions.

On the floor near my bed was a large burlap sack. I
stepped over and upon opening it realized it was the week’s worth of food that
Jari had said the winners would receive. There were fresh loaves of bread,
cheeses, and packs of meat and vegetables, all wrapped in plastic, presumably
to keep fresh.

“Congratulations,” the holographic woman’s voice cut the
silence. She illuminated the
window pane
. “I’m glad to
see you’re still alive.”
 
She
sounded sincere—as sincere as a piece of software could sound.

“Thanks,” I replied with a sigh.

“You are not happy with the outcome? I would think it
better than the other possibility,” she pointed out.

I frowned involuntarily
.
“I just killed someone. Even though he was a
bad person, that’s a heavy thing to think about.”
 
My voice turned sour by the time I finished speaking.

She said nothing, her image just stood silent near the
tall glass window. The lights of the city twinkled behind her. The scene was,
but on Earth there would be cars driving around on the streets, their glowing
white and red lights streaking around everywhere or stopped in traffic.

“What do I call you anyway?” I changed the subject. “Proxy
isn’t a name.”
 

“Synthetic animated manifestations are not given names. We
are artificial intelligences created for the specific purpose of service.”
 
Her answer came with the slightest hint
of disdain.

“Synthetic animated manifestations? That’s a mouthful. How
about I call you Sam?” I asked.

Her eyebrows knit together questioningly. “Sam?”

“Yeah. S-A-M. Synthetic animated manifestation. Sam for
short.”
 

The digital blonde smiled at the idea. “Very well, Finn
McClaren. You may call me Sam.”
 

Then something about her demeanor changed. Her facial
expression revealed that she had begun to analyze something. “Someone is coming
up the elevator,” she stated. I turned back towards the doors and waited, still
standing near the sack of food.

Seconds later, the doors opened. Jari stood in the middle
of the lift, surrounded by four guards. He stepped out purposefully, his
unnecessarily long black cape flowing behind him. The man was shorter than I’d
imagined. Then again, I’d only seem him looking down from a balcony and on a
screen projection.

“Well, well, well. Congratulations,” he offered
insincerely. “That was quite a show you put on out there.” His nasal voice was
even more irritating in person.

I still had the sword strapped to my back, and for a few
reckless seconds, I thought about using it. But I thought better of it. Dried
blood stains were splattered on my hands and forearms. I was careful to keep
them at my sides so as not to alarm him or his minions.

“I wonder…how were you able to do those amazing things?”
he pried.

“What things?” I shrugged.

“You know exactly what things,” he snapped, insistently.
“How were you able to jump so high, to move so quickly?”
 
He gave a demeaning glance at my arms.
“Someone as frail as you shouldn’t be able to do any of that. You lifted
Darwinius’s sword like it was made of straw.”

“He is from Earth,” Sam interrupted. “Have you considered
that humans from that planet might be stronger while on this one?”
 

Jari shook his head, peering at me suspiciously. “We have
the same planetary characteristics as the earthlings,” he rebutted. “There is
no difference, save for our two moons. The laws of physics are universal. So, I
ask again, how did you beat Darwinius?”
 

“I honestly don’t know,” I finally answered after a moment
of silent contemplation. I tried to sound indifferent. “Those things you saw, I
can’t explain them anymore than you can.”
 

My answer seemed to only infuriate him further.

“You listen to me, boy.”
 

“I’d be careful if I were you, Game Master,” I injected.
“The last person who called me that is dead.”
 
The warning caused him to pause for a few seconds.

“Do you threaten me?” he roared. His face contorted with
rage. I simply smiled.

“I’m not threatening you. But I’m not sure if I can even
control what you saw. You never know what I might do. Heck, I don’t even know
what I might do.”
 

His eyes narrowed in an attempt to seem unafraid, though
his feet belied his true concern as he took a cautious step back.

“Very well,” he said, calming down somewhat. “I can see
you have no intention of revealing your secrets. You may enjoy your night here.
On the morrow you will be returned to your prison cell with your supply of
food.”

“Thanks,” I muttered sarcastically with a flick of my
head.

He turned and began to walk towards the elevator then
stopped and faced me again. “You should rest up. The emperor has requested that
you fight again in three days.”
 
He
spun and disappeared into the elevator behind his wall of guards. The doors
shut and I was alone again. Well, alone with Sam.

“He can’t do that,” she blurted out as soon as they were
gone; a tone of concern filled the digital voice.

I twisted my head and looked at her. “What do you
mean?”
 

“Frags…sorry, fighters can only be used once every
twenty-one days. It is a law set forth by the emperor, himself. It is to allow
adequate time for recovery and healing before their next bout.”
 

“Mallock doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who cares
about the well being of a bunch of prisoners,” I pointed out.

“He doesn’t,” she said in a nearly sad tone. “He only
wants to make sure they are capable of putting on a good show for the games.”

“I thought the games only happened once a week,” I added.

She nodded. “Yes. That is another odd thing about what the
game master said. Why is the emperor making you fight again in three days? It
makes no sense.”
 

“You know, for a piece of software, you sure do a lot of
independent thinking.”
 
My comment
was meant as a compliment.

She ignored the last thing I said and tried to sound more
formal. “You should get cleaned up and get some rest. They will come for you early
in the morning.”
 

I nodded and headed for the shower. “Aren’t you going to
eat something?” she stopped me midway to the bathroom, appearing on another
wall in front of me.

“No,” I replied dryly. “I’m going to take that to the
others.”
 
I walked by her as she
pondered my last remark.

A few minutes later, I stepped out of the shower, feeling
a little better, but not quite okay. My hands were still shaking a little from
the fight. I wondered when they would stop, if ever. The air in the bedroom
smelled fresh, like it had recently been cleaned and sprayed with hints of
lavender and vanilla. The bed had been made in my absence, causing me again to
wonder who had come and gone. I passed off the thought; it didn’t matter. I’m
sure they had some kind of robotic maids or something that brought food and
turned down the sheets.

The holographic image of my proxy was standing in the
middle of the room now. I thought it odd how she was always around, almost
omnipresent in the suite. For a moment, I looked around trying to figure out
what was projecting her into the air in front of me.

“Is there anything else I can do for you tonight before I
shut down?”
 
Her tone was polite as
she interrupted my thoughts.

“No, I’m good,” I shook my head. She continued to stare at
me while I searched for a light switch.

After watching me fumble around for a minute, she finally
said, “Lights off.”
 
All of the
lamps shut off instantly.

I could see her glowing image still standing there in the
darkness. “Thank you, Sam. Good night.”
 
I climbed into the bed and slid under the sheets. It definitely beat the
cot from the prison cell.

“Sir, you didn’t eat any of your food. Are certain you are
not hungry?” she was an inquisitive one, to say the least.

“Don’t call me Sir. Just call me Finn. And like I said,
I’m taking the food back to the prison to share with my group.”
 
I curled up on my right side and closed
my eyes, ready to let exhaustion take over and send me to sleep.

“If I may, Finn, ask one more question?”

I didn’t open my eyes as I responded. “Sure, Sam. What’s
that?”
 
I was already getting
groggy. Something about this bed absolutely knocked me out.

“How DID you do those things? The things the game master
was asking about?”
 

Her question lingered in my hazy mind for a few seconds
before I responded. “I honestly don’t know, Sam. I wish I did. But I’ve noticed
something.”

“What have you noticed?” she hovered closer like a
holographic apparition.

I turned over and looked at her. The radiant image glowed
brightly against the black backdrop of the suite. “When I’m the most afraid is
when the power seems to be its strongest. Those guards I killed the other day.
The target I destroyed in the training facility.
And my fight
tonight with Darwinius.
Every single time I was scared. And the greater
my fear, it seems the more powerful I become.”
 
My voice trailed off.

“What does that mean, Finn?” I barely heard her ask.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, almost inaudibly. “I don’t know
what any of this means.”
 

When I woke up the next morning, bright rays of the
morning sun were pouring through the big window on the far side of the bedroom.
The air still smelled fresh, a stark reminder of the heavy,
dank
 
prison
air that awaited me.

“Did you sleep well, Finn?” Sam’s voice startled me; she
was waiting eagerly on the other side of the bed.

“Actually,” I answered with a yawn, “I did.”
 
I hadn’t slept decently since arriving
on the alien world. A night of peaceful rest was a welcome change. It had
seemed like I dreamt about something, but I couldn’t’ remember any details. The
only thing I could recall was an overwhelming sense of relief I’d felt in the
dream. It was peaceful, almost a perpetual stillness. Everything else was just
a blur.

A cart next to the bed was laden with various fruits and
muffins, just like hotel room service back home. Well, I assumed that was what
room service was back home. I’d never actually ordered it before. I figured
that Sam had something to do with the generous breakfast and the turn down
service from the previous day. She seemed to have many human qualities despite
being an artificial intelligence. Then again, maybe that was the idea.

I popped some blueberries in my mouth and took a few bites
of some plump strawberries. They tasted just as sweet and juicy as they would
back home. Silly thoughts of fancy spaceships importing fruit from Earth passed
through my mind. “Thanks for the food, Sam,” I said gratefully as I bit into
what looked and tasted like a bran muffin.

She smiled, grateful for the appreciation. “You’re most
welcome, Finn. Now, you should get ready. The escort will be here shortly to
return you to the prison.”
 

My smile disappeared. I didn’t want to go back down there.
It was a cruel, dirty, despair-filled place. I reminded myself that there were good
people there, people who were unjustly placed in that hole.
The
ones from Jonas’s group.
They were different than the rest of the
prisoners there. And Taurus. I thought about him, too, and how he seemed unlike
the other, evil prisoners. He seemed like a good person.

A few minutes later, the guards arrived. They didn’t bind
my wrists this time, instead telling me to grab my bag of food and get moving.
When I arrived at the train headed to the underground facility there was no
fanfare or pomp, only guards with machine guns making sure I didn’t try
anything funny. They all seemed a little more on edge, probably because I’d
either cost them money betting against me or because of my display in the
arena. For some it may have been both. The ride back to the prison wasn’t long
enough and, before I knew it, the train slowed to a stop and I was shoved
towards the entryway. I’d noticed the familiar nasty air several minutes before
we arrived. Part of me wondered how the guards could stand working there all
the time. I guess it was like anything else if you got used to it.

I entered the prison to a mixed array of emotions and
senses. The group in the red banner’s corner was silent, offering only
threatening stares; others appeared to be in stunned disbelief. The black
banner’s group seemed to not notice my return while fighters in the nearby
yellow corner stared wide-eyed at me as I hauled the huge bag across the room
to the niche where my comrades waited with applause and cheers. Well, most of
them did. Petra just stood there silent, glaring at me as I approached. His
eyes were laser beams piercing through me and I wondered if he was angry about
killing the man who had caused him so much pain.

I plopped the bag down on the table with a loud thud. Nela
was the first to say anything. “These are your spoils of victory, Finn. Why do
you bring this here?”
 

“It belongs to all of you,” I answered shortly. “Enjoy
it.”
 

Some of the others cast quick questioning glances at one
another for a few seconds then dove into the bag, pulling out its contents and
spreading them out on the table. Within minutes, they were stuffing their
faces. I wondered how long it had been since all of them had shared a good
meal.

As I stood there watching them eat, Petra made his way
over and stopped next to me. He clamped his big hand onto my shoulder, jarring
me for a second. “Darwinius was mine to kill,” he said gruffly. I had worried
he would say something like that. “But,” he went on, “justice has been done.
And for that, I owe you my life. Thank you.”
 
He moved his hand from my shoulder and stuck it in front of
me. I clasped it as firmly as I could, which was no match for his powerful
grip. He smiled underneath his thick beard, his eyes reflecting the same happy
relief.

Jonas stood nearby. He, too, was smiling. But his smile
was masking something, and I was curious what it was he wasn’t saying. Petra
interrupted our silent communication. “The fighters’ rooms sure beat this
place, eh?” he joked and slapped me on the back, again jolting me.

I smiled wryly. “They certainly smell better,” I replied,
wrinkling my nose. That was one thing I already missed about the suite. It had
smelled cleaner than anything I’d ever smelled before. I guess because I’d come
from this dreary, disgusting prison.

“That they do,” Petra agreed and helped himself to a piece
of bread from the table.

I walked over to Jonas. “Well done,” he said, reservedly.

“Thanks,” I answered in a sheepish tone. “I still don’t
really understand it, though. How am I able to do those things?”
 
He put his arm around me and steered us
away from the group towards the wall.

“Tell me, Finn. What is your biggest weakness?”
 
He looked at me sideways as we walked.

I thought for several seconds. I had plenty of weaknesses.
I was a slow runner, not very strong, not super smart,
lacked
confidence. All of those things were weaknesses I possessed. I shrugged, “Pick
one. I have more flaws than strengths.”
 

We stopped next to the smooth,
stone
wall
. Jonas looked up to the ceiling then all around. “Prisons,” he
began, “have been around since history began. You have them on your world as
well. They are a way to keep the wicked people of society away from the
good.”
 
I nodded, wondering where
he was going with this. “And throughout the history of prison walls, those who
were kept inside by them have sought to escape. The escapees do this by seeking
out the weakness in the walls. They find the crack and pick at it, peeling it
away layer by layer until the crack has become a gaping hole. They have turned
a weakness into their strength.”
 

I stared at him, still trying to follow the line of
thought. “It works the same way with a dream rider. Your greatest weakness is
your wall. And your subconscious tries to find the crack and turn that weakness
into your strength. In this way, you receive your power.”
 

I considered what he was saying. Each time I’d felt afraid
the power had taken over, as if it were surging through me. And the more afraid
I was, the stronger the power became. The idea bent my brain in half and I
blinked, shaking my head.

“Fear,” I said finally. Jonas raised an eyebrow, giving an
appraising gaze. “Fear is my biggest weakness.”

“And what, Finn, are you afraid of?”

“What am I not afraid of?” I blurted out a little louder
than I intended. “Spiders, snakes, heights, pain, death, failure, I’m afraid of
lots of things.”
 

“Good,” he said with an affirming voice. “And your mind
uses that in this place. In your dreams, it takes the things you are most
afraid of and forces you to become strong, stronger than you could ever imagine
yourself to be in your conscious reality.”
 

My head spun. It was difficult to understand how something
could feed off of my fears and make me better, stronger, more powerful.

He sensed my apprehension. “When one dreams, like you are
now,” he began again in a quiet tone, “that person is often exposed to
terrifying situations. Fear is one of the most common weaknesses a person has.
Some people have a fear of falling so, in their dreams, they often dream of falling
from a high place.”
 
His words made
me think about the nightmare I’d had where the bald assassin pushed me off the
building. “Others have a fear of snakes, like you mentioned. So, they dream of
being in a pit of venomous serpents. This happens because the subconscious mind
is trying to force you to face your fears and turn them into strengths. In this
world, outside your earthly reality, your weakness makes you strong.”
 

I had seen the results. It was like performing a miracle
and not believing I had done it. But that didn’t change that it had happened.
I’d killed a man twice my size in an arena full of onlookers. Whether it was a
dream or not, it certainly felt more real than anything I’d ever experienced
before.

Something else was nagging in the back of my mind. I let
out a big sigh as I thought about the crowd in the stadium. “The people didn’t
seem to like me very much,” I tried to sound indifferent but my words were
lathered in disappointment.

He gave a reaffirming grin. “Right now, the people are so
far removed from freedom of thought, they only think and feel as they have been
told. They have been taught to only cheer for the biggest and the strongest.
Their minds are warped into believing that there is no alternative for life.
They wake up, go to work in the factories or the fields, and return to their
homes with no consideration that they have become slaves.”

“And that’s why Mallock put you here,” I finished his
thought. “You and the rest of this group, your crime was trying to destroy the
bonds he put on their minds.”
 

Jonas nodded. “Pretty much.”
 
His eyes stared off towards the table of food that was
quickly being devoured by the members of the group. “It was a very kind act for
you to share your food with them. No one has ever shared their food with the
entire group.”
 
His voice was laced
with a hint of regret.

I’m sure I blushed. “Don’t worry about it.”
 
I was uncomfortable with praise so I
decided to ask about the group. “So, these people…they’re your followers?”
 

He let out a short laugh. “I suppose so, in a manner of
speaking. They are the ones who also believe people should be free to choose
their fates, free to live their lives as they wish. That common bond is why we
are together.”
 

“But you do not fight,” I said more as a statement than
question.

“No,” he shook his head. “I am too old, I suppose. The
emperor keeps me here and forces me to train those who are still young and
capable of combat.”
 

I had another question that had been bugging me since I’d
set foot onto the floor of the arena and decided now was as good a time as any.
“The crowd was chanting something last night. What was it they were saying? It
sounded like one word”
 

Again he seemed disappointed. “They were saying
bera
. It
means,
to
death.
They have it in their minds that the undeserving should be sent to
death.
It has been indoctrinated in them by Mallock and his
followers
. They are told that, because of their crimes, fighters are put
to the challenge as a fair punishment and death decides the fate of the
guilty.”
 
His answer sounded
barbaric, but it was his tone that made it clear he did not agree with the
tradition.

“Remember, the mob can be easily manipulated,” he waved a
hand dramatically. “They will cheer for the most vile person in the universe if
he entertains them or gives them something they want.”
 

“I don’t want to entertain them,” I scoffed at the idea.
“I just want to do what I need to do to get back home.”
 

Jonas clearly seemed a little disappointed. “Your role is not
to give them what they want, Finn. It is to give them what they need. More
importantly, something they don’t even realize they need.”
 

I sniffled and scratched my nose. Being back in the damp
prison facility disagreed with my sinuses. I meant what I’d said. All I wanted
was to be back home. While it was certainly a powerful feeling to be some kind
of a hero, the bigger part of me longed to be back on Earth, back to normalcy.
Expectations were lower there. I could blend back into the crowd, unnoticed by
anyone. Anonymity had its benefits.

I frowned at my thoughts. I realized that I was hoping to
go back to an existence of mediocrity.
Who would want that?
On Earth, people dreamed
of being kings and queens, celebrities and billionaires. My whole life I’d just
tried to disappear, to go unnoticed. I almost worked hard at doing as little as
possible. I was still young, barely twenty years old. But I knew of people the
same age as me who had already accomplished much more in their lives.

“Are you alright, Finn?” Jonas interrupted my thoughts,
sensing the battle raging in my head.