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“We have a question for you,” Valerian says after a period of uncomfortable silence. “How do the Overtaken come to be the way they are?”
“It’s also a virus, of sorts.” Maxwell’s voice sounds muffled by the new mask. “A person somewhere—let’s call him Dreamer Zero—had a very special nightmare, one that allowed you know who in. Thus, Dreamer Zero was the first Overtaken, most likely without knowing it. Then, because the special nightmare was so memorably nasty, Zero felt obliged to tell a friend, or a relative, or a therapist about it. What he probably didn’t know was that this particular nightmare is unique—hearing its details plants something like a virus in the subconscious in such a way that when the person who hears it goes to sleep, they also dream the exact same nightmare, thus giving access to you know who. From there, the nightmare spreads exponentially, far and wide.”
Chester casts a nervous glance at Kit, Colton, and Nina, who look shell-shocked.
“How long between the nightmare and the sleep walking?” Nina asks in a strangely unsteady voice.
“A couple of nights,” Maxwell says. “Why?”
“What was the nightmare about?” Chester asks, sounding equally strange.
“I’m not one of the Overtaken, so I haven’t seen this particular nightmare,” Maxwell says. “But even if I had, telling you about it would mean I’d turn you into an Overtaken, so I’d have to keep quiet.”
Valerian examines the New York Council members with a frown. “Why are you asking all this?”
Colton shifts from foot to massive foot. “Chester told us about a nightmare he had last night. Then, when I went to sleep, I had the dream myself.”
“So did I,” Nina says grimly.
“Same,” Kit says, glaring at Chester with narrowed eyes. “I can’t believe you infected me—and not with something sexually transmitted at that.”
Chester shakes his head. “My daughter couldn’t sleep because of a nightmare.” His voice is hollow. “She told me what it was, and I thought it curious when I dreamed the same thing.”
“How long ago?” Maxwell asks sharply.
Chester scratches behind the back straps of his mask. “Two days. I’ve had the nightmare twice so far—which made it more notable and is the reason I told others about it.”
Maxwell shakes his head. “You have two more days before you need to take precautions. I suggest having someone lock your room for the night.” He looks at the other Overtaken-to-be. “You have three more days—unless you start messing with your sleep cycles to stall it.”
“We have experience with people who are dangerous when they sleep,” Nina says. “Gertrude, our fellow Council member, is a gangrene-giver who sleepwalks.”
At the prospect of being treated like Gertrude, Colton, Kit, and Chester look glum.
“How much of the nightmare story do you need to hear to get into trouble?” I ask, recalling my eavesdropping from the other day. “I think I overheard Chester talk about his nightmare, but only caught a few words.”
“If you didn’t have the nightmare, you’re fine.” Maxwell gets his hanky out and dabs at his eyes again. “Make sure not to hear any more, though.”
Puck, yeah. The idea of getting a mind virus, or whatever the term, has never even occurred to me, but now that it has, it goes to the top of my things to avoid, up there with crunching on kitty litter.
Kit morphs into Chester but with fiery eyes. “How could this even happen? Isn’t your luck power supposed to protect you?”
Chester shrugs. “Bad things still happen to me. The universe is too chaotic to avoid that.”
“Guys. Isn’t that a person?” Ariel points into the distance.
Everyone looks.
A woman in a surgical mask is creeping around a block away from us. When she sees us looking, she bolts as if worried we’d catch her and turn her into soup.
Maxwell follows the woman’s retreat with his sad eyes. “Not everyone here is dead. There are whole continents on this world where the governments shut down all incoming travel. The virus hasn’t spread there as much.”
Valerian’s eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. “More like Icelus hasn’t yet spread it everywhere.”
Felix’s robotic neck turns with a screech. “If Icelus are still here on this world, it gives us a chance to help the people on Necronia save themselves.”
“Ever the optimist,” Itzel says. “Icelus might’ve infected this world by accident—and could already be done with Necronia by now.”
“Nostradamus didn’t think so,” Felix says defensively.
“He also wanted us to take Chester, yet look what happened,” I say.
“Whatever Nostradamus said will no doubt benefit him most of all,” Chester says. “Seers can’t be trusted. I bet he never said the people of Necronia will be saved.”
That’s true. He didn’t. The only clear-cut thing the seer said was that I will perish if I don’t go to Necronia. Given the virus situation, I’m tempted to take my chances with not going and let the chips fall where they may.
