Chapter I: I Had A Dream
Sunday, May 16, 2021
Claude sat down in a large, garish yellow chair. "Mr. Iyer is not coming, Professor?"
"Not just yet," came a voice from the kitchen. "And call me Nirand, please!"
Professor Nirand Chandrasekhar emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray. "You said Earl Grey was your favorite?"
"Yes, thank you." Claude took the teacup as Nirand sat down across from him in an equally garish and yellow chair.
"I suppose," Claude said after taking a sip, "We could discuss the List first. How many have you located?"
"256," Nirand said, "Several of them have already expressed interest in joining Yamagato."
Claude set down his teacup and said, "Well, they'll have to discuss this with our operations in Hyderabad. Our chief—" Claude rubbed his forehead, "I'm sorry, I'm feeling just awful."
"Jet lag, I suppose?" Nirand said with a smile.
"Yeah, I suppose." Claude took another sip, "Manmohan retired last month, and I can't remember who the new head of operations is."
"Well, never mind," Nirand said, "I'm sure that Hyderabad can handle things. It is the matter of Mr. Iyer that is more important."
"How so? He's a dream-walker, right? Is something wrong?"
Nirand nodded slowly, "He has made a discovery while entering someone's dreams, since we last communicated. It appears that the American government is planning an attack on the evolved human reservation."
"Call it SG City, please," Claude said. Claude quickly downed the rest of the tea. He shook his head and leaned back in the chair. "It's really good tea."
Claude rubbed his forehead again. "I'm really sorry," he said, "I'm feeling disoriented. Anyway, it wouldn't be the government. Not now."
Claude closed his eyes, "I can't even remember how I got here."
"You liked the tea?" Nirand asked.
"Eh? Well, yes, but—"
"The compliments shouldn't go to me," Nirand said.
Claude blinked. Suddenly, the chair and Nirand's apartment were gone. Claude was sitting in the sand on a beach somewhere. Large red rock formations were just offshore.
"What the bloody hell?" Claude leapt to his feet. He was wearing a white robe.
"He's very good, isn't he?"
Claude turned around. Nirand was walking towards him, also dressed in a white robe. A young man was walking next to him.
"Claude Rains," Nirand said, pointing at the man next to him, "Meet Sanjog Iyer."
The young man extended his hand. Claude shook it, "So I'm asleep?"
Sanjog nodded, "Your plane is close to India, which is why I could find you."
"I am asleep at the airport," Nirand added.
"Well!" Claude laughed, "I suppose we should get down to business. Nirand said—"
The beach scene slowly faded away. Claude felt himself shaking.
He opened his eyes. A flight attendant was shaking him.
"Sir? Sir?" she said, "The plane has landed."
"Oh?" Claude sat up, "Oh, thank you."
Claude went invisible to get through customs. It wasn't strictly necessary, but as an SG he would be subject to a more limited visa. He was also, as a member of the Yamagato Fellowship, somewhat high profile. So, he stamped a fake passport under the name "John Tyler," just in case.
Nirand and Sanjog were waiting for him at the gate, where they shook hands once again.
"Welcome to Madras, Mr. Rains," Sanjog said.
"Just Claude," he said, "It's nice to see you in the land of the living."
Claude was suddenly serious, "Nirand said you saw something in your dreams."
Nirand quickly looked to the left and right. "Not here," he said, "Let me take you to my office."
Nirand's car, a hydrogen fuel-cell model made locally, was a testament to his relative opulence in India. Most of the vehicles were made for export.
India was instead a land of bicycles and buses.
As the head of Chennai University's Department of Biology, Claude had expected that he would have a large office. Instead, Nirand took them to a cramped room that felt more like a closet than an office. Most of the office was taken up by a desk and several file cabinets. A small window afforded views of the University's luxurious gardens.
Claude and Sanjog somehow managed to squeeze themselves into the two seats in front of Nirand's desk.
Nirand steepled his fingers together and said, "Sanjog, I believe you are better prepared to explain the situation."
Sanjog simply nodded and turned to Claude, "About three days ago I was summoned into the dream of an American who was evidently visiting India on business.
"The dream started simply enough. He was initially dreaming about working at some sort of facility. It appeared to be an airport. He was sitting at a desk in an office that was filled to here with papers." And he raised his hand above his head.
Sanjog continued, "He felt frantic, and was searching for something in those papers. So, I decided to change the direction of his dream in the hopes of helping him find his answer."
"I brought him outside first. We were standing in front of some airplanes, unlike any I have ever seen before. I let his mind take over there and the room was filled with people in what appeared to be military uniforms.
"He turned to me and said, 'Lieutenant! Do you have the report on the sugs' location?'. I told him I did not. I redirected the dream slightly to draw attention away from myself.
"He then walked over to a pair of men standing by one of the planes. One of them was the man, but younger, and the other was evidently a high-ranking official.
"The Young One said, 'General, what's happened?'
"The General said, 'I'm sorry, son. There's nothing to be done.'
"The dream then took all of us to another room, a large one. A large LCD screen was along one wall, and dozens of men were sitting at computer banks. On the screen was a map of North America, and a sort of target sign had appeared over New York.
"Sirens were going off, and people were running around in a panic. The Young One passed us and we followed him. He ran outside—it was dark—and jumped into an airplane, an F-16 I think. He took off with a squadron of planes and flew over a large fire. I gathered that it was New York City, moments after the Explosion.
"The dream shifted again—it was by this time fully out of my control—and we were all watching President Petrelli's 'Tradgedy of Unfathomable Dimension' speech, the one before he was president? But at the same time, the Young One was talking to a young woman.
"'I don't believe any of this,' she said.
"'Absolutely,' he said, 'No way our President was a sug. No way. They just want us to think he was, so we pity them.'
"Then the TV changed to the treaty ceremony in 2012, the one that established SG City. And the Old One said, 'Yes, I must do this. I must, for my country. They must pay.'"
Sanjog wiped his forehead. He had suddenly started to sweat, "I then saw his 'dream', by which I mean his deepest desire. He was standing in a group of shacks, that I just 'knew' was SG City. He was holding an AK-47. A blonde woman shot fire out of her hands at him, but a soldier jumped in front of him and was burned instead. He killed the woman, shooting long after she was dead. He then shouted into a cell phone—and I quote—'Kill fucking all of them! I want absolutely no survivors, understand? Total fucking extinction!' And then I woke up."
Sanjog shuddered, "Thanks to my ability, I have never had a nightmare, other than those I have intentionally induced."
"'S'alright," Claude said, patting him on the shoulder, "But I have to wonder. How do you know that him being in the military isn't his dream also? His, uh, desire-dream, I mean."
Nirand reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. He handed Claude a piece of paper. It was a brain scan covered in Hindi writing.
"This was taken while Sanjog was asleep," he said. "Note the—"
"Temporal lobes, yes," Claude said, "That indicates that you're an extremely powerful telepath. And there's the Phase Three activity i'd expect for ESP."
Claude handed back the paper, "Of course, I can't read the notation."
He turned to Sanjog and asked, "What was the man's name?"
"That was never revealed to me," Sanjog said.
"Fantastic!"
Nirand handed Claude another paper, "A local police sketch artist made this composite of the man."
Claude stared at it for a moment. He said, "He sorta looks like the commander of the Death Star, but a bit younger."
Nirand smirked a little. "You are not familiar with this man?"
"No, but Yamagato has contacts in the upper levels of the military that might."
Claude handed back the sketch, "So, now what?"
"We were hoping that you would have some ideas," Nirand said.
Claude was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, he said, "I'll have to make some phone calls, get the Fellowship mobilized. I wasn't expecting to stay here that long. I'll need somewhere to stay."
"I can take care of that," Nirand said.
"In the meantime," Claude said, turning to Sanjog, "What about your ability? Could you find this man again?"
"It's not that simple," Sanjog said, shaking his head, "I usually let people find me. In addition, I'd need his name to find him again. And even if I had his name, he would have to be within about 1500 miles for me to find him—in India, in other words."
Claude sighed. He said, "Well, we'll work out something." He stood, "I need to start making calls."
"Of course," Nirand said.