Chapter 3: Evening Oracle

Wife of Kuramochi, Manyoshu 3812

Though they ask the diviner,
And seek oracles at the cross-roads,
There is no finding
The means to see you.

That night—or, rather, absurdly early in the morning of the following day—Olivia was waiting, stripped, for Walter to finish preparing the drug cocktail he would use along with the sensory deprivation tank to plunge her into an enhanced dream state.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Astrid asked. She'd expressed deep concerns over the plan, knowing that Walter's desperation to find his son would make him more careless with Olivia's safety than usual.

"I've shared a dream state with Peter before. He's been in my head. He went into the deepest recesses of my mind to find me, and I'm going to return the favor."

"So no, you're not sure it's going to work," Astrid surmised.

Olivia couldn't deny it. "No, I'm not. But there's a chance, and I'm out of other ideas."

Walter came toward her with a syringe. "This is going to sting a little."

The injection burned, but Olivia ignored the pain. Walter and Astrid lowered her into the tank.

She closed her eyes. The water was close to body temperature, designed to reduce all outside sensations.

All sensations but the silver coin she clenched in her hand.

She closed her eyes as she felt the drugs begin to take affect, making her body tingle and sleep take over her mind.

They had chosen this time because, assuming Peter's sleep schedule was still keyed to this time zone, he was likely to be dreaming.

Assuming he was still alive, which Olivia did.

Her mind drifted. Her mind searched. Her mind scoured dark corners of the world and the other world and beyond.

There were things she saw there. Other things. Things that didn't even make sense to a mind opened to the normal surrealism of dreams.

It took hours, but she saw a glimmer. He slept.

He was asleep in what looked like the house he shared with Walter, but different, emptier. She came closer, her feet moving, but not her feet.

It was him. He was alive. He was real. He was beautiful.

"Peter, I'm here."

There was no sign that he heard her. He was asleep, but he wasn't dreaming.

She had found him, but that might not accomplish much.

"Peter, wake up. Please come to me."

She was close to him, but she couldn't touch him. It was like a dream; her hand wouldn't move when she directed it to.

"Please Peter..."