Oneiromancer Read online

inter-dimensional gateway we created. These streams of quantum particle flow into our dimension and collide with what you would call anti-particles. This collision releases energy that we can utilize through a device I helped create. Long ago when your people were too primitive to understand this process, we opened the inter-dimensional gateway and projected images of ourselves posing as your dead ancestors. This interaction of human mind and projected image promoted a specific, potent thought emission. This made humans do as we asked but had the side-effect of creating psychics. Now your people can understand the process, but many from my dimension won’t risk losing our power source by revealing our true identity and purpose.”

  “Energy vampires!”

  “Calm down, all life feeds off life. The one I spoke of before has begun a plan of mass conversion to boost the energy supply for a cadre of radicals who plan to take over our government, but she doesn’t know it will change the very nature of your species.”

  “You can’t stop it?”

  “No. Not me. Not here. I’m in a condemned projection facility and have limited power.”

  “Okay. Answer this please. So, you created psychics but how can they get information they haven’t witnessed?”

  “As for intelligence gathering, your minds all work on a quantum consciousness construct. The easiest parallel is your Internet. Human brains are like wireless computers but the computers need to have access to the construct. The images we projected accidentally did that. This also allowed us to gain access into psychically equipped minds and they became like your Internet routers. The rest is telepathic hacking into the quantum consciousness construct.”

  “I don’t understand why you make people believe they are talking to the dead,” Peter says.

  “Belief is a key to our operation. The more you believe the easier it is to siphon the energy through these terminals. It’s like having a password for human minds. Psychics are just people who are online all the time and have access to other’s data but all human minds are capable of access of the quantum consciousness construct.”

  “Why use the images of our dead? You could have been angels or Gods.”

  “An afterlife is a powerful idea. It’s personal. It’s easier to make you believe. But, we did appear as Gods when we needed large amounts of energy. For this, I am sorry. There is little time. This facility is being watched because a few children snuck in and manipulated a human for amusement. They convinced him to forever have a face of glee.”

  “A smile?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn. Angelos. Poor guy. What can I do to stop this?”

  “Find the imposter human and send her back.”

  “Her?”

  “Yes, her identification is K Z. You must render her unconscious and then I will be able to remove her consciousness from your dimension.”

  Peter slumps down and covers his eyes.

  “Great, it’s Kasey Wells.”

  The purple vortex grows stronger and consumes the Thought Rider. Peter feels his bones heat up. He awakens sitting up. The sun blasts a trumpet of light on his bed as he gazes through his neighbor’s cell across the hall into the cornfield labyrinth. He watches the silks crowning the corn stalks undulate in the breeze. His attention is brought to the horizon as two hawks duel in the sky.

  “I shall cast the first stone.”

  …

  Eyes open, Peter doubts his sanity and watches people pass by as he makes his way to Messiah’s Hall. A tulip among withering daisies, Gloria sits alone in a cranberry Dolce Gabbana dress and matching cowboy hat with black feather trim. She waves. The cafeteria echoes with the scratching of silverware on plates and the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls hangs in the air. Peter gets in line, grabs a plate of fruit, and circles around to his boss.

  He sits as Gloria attempts a smile.

  “Sleep well?” Gloria asks.

  “I have once or twice,” Peter replies.

  “That’s an odd answer,” she says.

  “This is an odd place. Is she coming?” Peter asks.

  “Yes but could take a while with her congress calling on her.”

  “First among equals,” he says.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “She’s not like the others. She never makes mistakes. I hear footsteps.”

  Two row of men in silver robes walk backwards through the cafeteria’s entrance and two girls dressed as vestal virgins toss orchid petals across the threshold. A man in line weeps. A Sanskrit chant bounds across the cafeteria from the intercom and then stops. Kasey, donning a porcelain white robe, passes through the doorway. Peter sees the glass walls behind her warp. He shakes his head and the walls are again solid. Kasey uncovers her head to reveal a coil of spun copper hair. She struts directly to Gloria and kisses her on the cheek. Peter’s fists clench and he thinks holy shit, it’s the woman from the internet photo.

  Kasey says with an English accent, “Darling, most wonderful to see you and this must be your reporter Peter.”

  “Lovely to see you Kasey,” Gloria says and tilts her head.

  “An honor to meet you Ms. Wells,” Peter says.

  Kasey sits next to Gloria as her entourage disperses.

  “Gloria I see you’ve been following my olive oil treatment. You look fabulous! Oh, and I don’t mean to be a bore but Helios Solar Systems is making quite the run for us on the exchange.”

  “We doubled our money so far,” Gloria says.

  “Soon it will triple, but enough with that. This nice young man is here, I think I should hear his needs before we get too caught up in business. First Peter, are the classes helping you sharpen your focus?”

  “Yes. They have made my senses more acute. They allowed me to calm the clutter of my mind,” Peter replies.

  “That’s wonderful, I remember the first time I became lucid. The concept of lucidity is why I had the building constructed in this manner. Lucid rooms for lucid minds. What surprised you?” she asks.

  “The Remote Viewing class was a surprise. I didn’t think I’d be able to visualize distant places by just focusing on a map. It’s like being a spy satellite,” Peter says.

  “Wonderful! That’s what you should write about when you get back to the office,” Gloria says without looking at him.

  “I’m pleased by your change but there is something more. Is there something you want to ask me? An observation that troubles you perhaps?” she asks as a plate of candied ginger is placed down in front of her by one of the vestal virgins.

  “My brother.”

  “Yes. He is distant.”

  “He’s dead and I wanted to know if you can contact him? I was told it will take a long time before I could, if ever.”

  “True it takes time, but he is here with you.”

  “Would you ask him if…”

  Kasey interjects, “If he’s at peace?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is and he wants you to know it was by his own hand and Sybil was right. He tells me you came here to expose us, but now you will reveal the truth. Excuse me but the images are fuzzy. What does he mean?”

  “Yes Peter. Answer her!” Gloria says.

  “My intention was to expose psychics as frauds so I could get my brother’s case re-opened. You see, my mother listened to her psychic Sybil, and she said my brother’s death was a suicide. I didn’t believe it. But now, I do.”

  “Now he will find peace. There’s something else. An image from a dream you want to discuss? I am skilled at oneiromancy so please tell me this dream and maybe we can plot your future.”

  “There was a man. He called himself a Thought Rider. He was a photo-negative of, well, me,” he says as her eyes become coal and her thin lips clench so hard they drain of blood.

  “Very intriguing, go on,” she says staring at Peter.

  “This Thought Rider appeared from a purple tornado and told me the world was coming to an end.”

  “Go on.”


  “He said the energy is gone.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “I don’t remember but it has to do with siphons or possession but I can’t make any sense of it,” he says as she stands abruptly and her chair screeches back.

  “Let me go back to my chamber and meditate on this. I have much to attend to. Peter, come to my private office outside the dorm in three hours. It’s the greenhouse by the entrance to the cornfield labyrinth. Gloria, I’m sorry but I remembered that I have a pressing issue to address. Stay, enjoy the classes and we shall have dinner. Until later,” she says, turns and walks away so fast that her robe almost falls off her shoulders.

  …

  Eyes are shielded from the sun filling his chamber and Peter completes his article. He attaches it to an email. The subject line reads—INSURANCE. The article is sent. He closes the laptop on the bed and waits an hour.

  The breeze outside the lobby brings the scent of burning leaves across Peter’s nose and memories of camping with his brother and father flood into his mind. He thinks of two gravestones, one is engraved with his brother’s name and the other his father’s. He makes his way to Kasey’s private office made from a converted greenhouse. The door clicks opens. Kasey waves him over from a loveseat where a brass table sits with a fortune teller’s crystal ball. The room stinks of charcoal from the wood burning stove in the corner. He walks over, hands in pockets, and stands next to the table.

  “I have meditated on your dream and before I tell you what it means is there anything you would like to add?”

  “Yes Kasey, why don’t you just go home and find another energy source?”

  “I thought so. I read your