The War for the Waking World (23 page)

Master Gabriel spun on his heel. “This . . . this is encouraging, Archer!”

“I don't see how. Look at Old Jack. It's counting down. If I'm right, we've only got three and a half days left.”

Master Gabriel frowned. “You are looking at the wrong side of this, Archer. If you are right, and it is six days—now down to a little more than three—remaining, ask yourself, three days until . . . what? Why would it be so important to Bezeal for you to be unable to fulfill your Dreamtreading duties for such a limited time?”

Archer wished he had an intellect as quick and deep as Kaylie's. His thoughts felt like churning butter, slow and sloppy. Then, like the parting of a curtain, the idea came to him. His eyes sprang wide open with brows raised, and he even dared to smile. “Do you think?” he asked. “There's still a chance?”

Master Gabriel nodded. “I do.”

“Snot rockets!” Archer shouted. “I've got to find Kaylie and Nick!”

“I suggest you try Scoville Manor.”

“Scoville Manor?” Archer barked, incredulous. “Why would I go there?”

“Aside from the fact that it is my advice to you, you just might find Kaylie there.”

“Oh, no,” Archer groused. “Rigby doesn't have her captive, does he?”

“No, no,” Master Gabriel explained. “Nothing like that. Just go and see. Oh, and Archer, keep an open mind.”

Archer didn't knock. He didn't ring the doorbell.

He stood on the front porch, focused his will for a thunder-stomp, and blew the door off its hinges. He stepped through the wreckage and cried out, “Rigby! Where are you? What have you done with Kaylie?”

There was no answer. Even the pets in the basement were silent. They should have been barking, screeching, yipping, and yapping
their heads off. “Rigby!” Archer yelled. “Doctor Scoville! Where are you?”

After a quick search of the upstairs, he raced down to the basement zoo, but the zoo wasn't there anymore. In its place was a magnificent and very futuristic laboratory. No test tubes and beakers sitting on Bunsen burners—it clearly wasn't that sort of lab. Instead, there were banks of slender computer servers, touch screens, tablets, styluses, and a vast array of flat-screen monitors, the smallest of which had to be at least ten feet wide. Those were just the things Archer could identify.

More amazing still were massive rolls of fiber-optic lines that reminded Archer of gigantic bundles of glowing yarn. Up above, thick tubes formed a dizzying labyrinth. Some were clear and full of bubbling liquid; others were more metallic. On the far side of the vast laboratory was what Archer originally took to be a kind of vault door. Full of chrome and brass components and thick circular slabs, it looked like something out of a federal bank. Archer stepped a little closer and noticed it was in motion. The centermost circle, where the spindle on a bank vault would be, was a radial dial turning slowly clockwise. Not clockwise, but oscillating. Large screens flanked the strange apparatus and showed various digital views of the earth.

“This place is crazy,” Archer muttered. “It almost looks like—”

“Dream Inc.”

Archer whirled around to find Rigby had appeared on his right.

“It's very close to the original blueprints, along with a few upgrades we observed at Kara—”

With will-augmented speed, Archer flew into Rigby and pinned him against a pillar of concrete and steel. “Where is she, Rigby?” he demanded. “Where's my sister?”

“I'm right here, Archer,” Kaylie grumbled. “Put him down. We're friends again.”

“Friends?” Archer barked. “Friends? Kaylie, don't you know what
Rigby was going to do . . . to you? Don't you know what happened at the hospital?”

“I know,” Kaylie said. “Rigby and Uncle Scovy told me all about it. But Kara lied. Did you know that? Rigby never pulled out that plug.”

“What?” Archer gasped.

“It's true, Keaton,” Rigby said through clenched teeth. “Now, be a good lad, and set me on my feet.”

Archer lowered Rigby to the floor. “I don't believe you,” he whispered. “I saw it. I saw it in your eyes.”

Rigby stared at the floor. “I'm not proud of that night,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “I was desperate. All my plans, everything and everyone I ever cared about seemed to be slipping through my fingers.”

Archer tightened his fists on Rigby's jacket. “She's a little girl, Rigby.”

“No, I'm not,” Kaylie insisted. “I am a Dreamtreader and a strong one too.”

“Anyway, Keaton, like I told you. I never pulled the plug. I went there in a fit of madness, and I almost did . . . well . . . I almost made a tragic mistake. I guess you wouldn't know about that, would you?”

Archer released Rigby and wandered a few paces away. He remembered being in this very basement, albeit before it had become a space station. He remembered staring at Doc Scoville's comatose body, his shriveled form kept alive by a dozen machines. One flip of the master power switch. That's all it would have taken.

“I know something about tragedy,” he whispered. The Dreamtreader turned on his heels and went face-to-face with Rigby once more. “Swear to me, Rigby,” he snarled. “Swear to me you never pulled that plug.”

“Okay, okay, Keaton,” Rigby muttered. “I swear, okay? Good enough?”

“For now,” Archer said, but he was far from certain. He'd be watching Rigby carefully. And he'd be ready if Rigby showed any sign
of treachery. He stepped away and gestured to the machinery and electronics. “So what's all this? Had to take a lot of mental energy to build something so huge . . . and so advanced.”

“Wasn't so tough, Keaton,” Rigby said, “when you've got three of us working on it.”

Kaylie nodded. Archer sniffed the air. “Where'd all the critters go? I can't even smell 'em.”

“They're two levels down, Archer,” Kaylie said. “It's like a great big terrarium down there. We built that too. You should see it. The animals are much happier now. I think Dr. Who misses you. And did you know Old Jack is back? Weird, he only has six numbers—”

“Where's Doc Scoville? Where's Nick?”

“We 'ave a lot to talk about,” Rigby said. “Good news and bad.”

“We're onto something, Archer!” Kaylie squealed. “Something big. And I mean really, really, really, really, really, really—”

“I get it,” Archer said, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Something big, but what?”

“Nothing certain yet,” Rigby explained. “Promising, but not certain. We 'ave more research to do, more tests.”

“This is torture!” Archer grumbled. “Research and tests for what?”

“Magnets!” Kaylie squeaked. She bounced up and down so much her pigtails did a little dance.

Archer frowned. “O . . . kay, magnets? For what?”

“Silly,” Kaylie replied. “For fixing the Rift!”

D
REAMTREADER
C
REED
, C
ONCEPTUS
15

I
f your Master should present to you a Dream creature, think of it as more than a pet. For really, the creature can be a very able assistant. Whether as a messenger, a breach-spotter, breach-stitcher, or even for entertainment, these mercurial creatures will make your Dreamtreading less of a burden.

What sort of creature, you may wonder? It is different for each Dreamtreader, but you will likely find the creature suits you in some way. Often, the creature will help cultivate a character trait you are currently lacking. They may even try your patience, but remember: they are there for your own good.

That is, of course, when they choose to come at your call.

THIRTY-FIVE

R
ESEARCH AND
D
EVELOPMENT

“S
NOT ROCKETS
, K
AYLIE
!” A
RCHER EXCLAIMED
. “T
HAT
'
S
the best news I've heard in a long time.”

She leaped into his arms and squeezed like a grizzly bear. Well, like a grizzly cub. “Isn't it great?” Kaylie asked, snuggling under Archer's chin. “We'll have Dad back and Buster and Amy and—”

“Didn't you 'ear me, Keaton?” Rigby asked. “I said it's not all good news.”

Archer put Kaylie down. “Kaylie, I want to hear all about the magnets and Rift-fixing, but uh . . . maybe I should hear the bad news first.”

Kaylie stuck out her bottom lip. “Kara took Nick,” she said.

“I tried to get 'im back,” Rigby explained. He stared at the floor. “But Kara was too strong.”

Archer's eyes narrowed. He'd heard stories like this from Rigby before. “You mean you conveniently left Nick?”

“That's not fair, Keaton,” Rigby growled. “You weren't there. You didn't see what Kara could do.”

“Rigby took on Kara so Uncle Scovy and I could escape,” Kaylie said. “If it weren't for Rigby, I'd have been caught too.”

“Kara's that strong?” Archer asked, blinking. “Even compared to us? Even with all the extra power we have due to the Rift?”

Rigby sneered. “It's galling, actually,” he said. “I don't know what she's gotten into, but she's ten times stronger than she ever was.”

Ten times?
The thought hit Archer like an ice ball to the temple.
How'd she get so strong?

Doc Scoville darted out from a corner of the lab. “Ah, Archer's back at last!” he said. “You couldn't have come at a better time. We're about to run the test!”

Archer was lost again. “What test?”

“Well, Anchor Protocol, of course,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “The test of tests, heh-heh.”

“I helped name it,” Kaylie said, beaming. “C'mon.”

As Kaylie led Archer into another wing of the lab, Archer couldn't help feeling a little surreal. He and Kaylie were walking side by side with Rigby Thames and Doc Scoville, known in the Dream as the Lurker. Betrayals, failures, lies, destruction—so much of it due to the actions of these two.
And yet here I am playing friendly again,
Archer thought.
I won't get fooled this time. Never again.

In the next room were more monitors, these humming with graphical motion. Servers lined the right-hand wall, with some kind of glassed-in workshop on the left.

“Take a seat,” Doc Scoville said.

The four of them rolled their chairs over to the center monitor. It was running some kind of split-screen application, but Archer couldn't make heads or tails of any one of the screens.

“Ready for the test?” Doc Scoville asked anxiously.

“Wait,” Archer said. “You need to catch me up a little bit first. All I know is that it has to do with magnets.”

Doc Scoville looked crestfallen. “But the test?”

“It's okay, Uncle,” Rigby said. “We just need to back up a little for Keaton 'ere.”

Doc Scoville frowned and nodded reluctantly.

“Okay, Keaton,” Rigby said. “So this started when Kara and I were running Dream Inc. out of the Antietam Creek Building . . .”

“Back when you were selling Lucid Walking trips to the highest
bidders?” Archer asked. “And tearing holes in the Dream fabric? Is that what you mean?”

Rigby folded his arms across his chest. “Look, Keaton, are you just going to keep throwing cheap shots, or are you going to listen?”

Archer didn't answer but motioned for Rigby to carry on.

With a slight shake of the head, Rigby explained, “Some of the customers tried to bring things back . . . back from the Dream. You know, a souvenir from the journey, that kind of thing? Thing is, whatever they brought back played 'avoc with our electronics. Didn't matter if it was big as a pirate ship or as small as a gold doubloon, the thing was ultra-magnetized.”

“Did anyone really bring back a pirate ship?” Kaylie asked.

Rigby raised an eyebrow. “Uh, no, I was just saying . . . but they brought back plenty of other things. We didn't know why they came out magnetized, but we were easily able to catch anyone who tried to smuggle something out. The magnetic field gave them away.”

“So what's this have to do with fixing the Rift?” Archer asked.

“It's all about electromagnetic fields,” Doc Scoville cackled. “I don't know how we missed it all these years.”

“Easy, Uncle,” Rigby said. He typed a few commands on the keyboard, and then took hold of something that looked like a flight simulator joystick. “Let's prove we're right first.”

“Don't you see, Archer?” Kaylie asked. “There's a powerful magnetic force in the Dream.”

“I get it,” he said. “But I still don't get it.”

“Don't worry, Archer,” she said. “I didn't get it either until we were snooping around in Kara's research center. She had some machines and computer applications that I'd never seen before. But when I saw she was measuring magnetic fields, especially the strongest magnetic fields, I figured it out.”