“But—”
“No reason to bore Pom with our problems,” I say pointedly.
An actual lightbulb appears over Felix’s head; I’m not sure he realizes he’s inadvertently summoned it. “Got it. But before I go, can you show me some cool dream stuff?”
I smile and snap my fingers to take us to my palace.
Felix looks around, agog. “Cool… Reminds me of Peach’s castle from Mario, but with Escher and Salvador Dalí influences.”
I snatch a Penrose-triangle clock from the air and let it melt into my hand. “You’re not far off. I changed this place a bit after we took that course. Video game design made me a much better dreamwalker.”
Felix looks up at the ceiling, a part of the palace so old I don’t even recall making it. Consisting of multicolored glass, it’s a mosaic depicting a mandala shaped like an archery target. He then stares at the walls and the floor. “What’s with the crazy color scheme?”
I grin. “They’re known as ‘forbidden colors’ because their light frequencies automatically cancel each other in our eyes. But we’re not really seeing through our eyes here, hence red-green and blue-yellow, as I imagine those shades to be. I’m thinking of adding ultraviolet and infrared accents as well.”
Eager to show off further, I take us to the memory gallery and explain how I use it.
Felix looks enviously at a painting of a surprise birthday party Mom threw for me when I turned twelve. “I’d pay a million dollars to revisit some of my childhood memories.”
“I could make it happen for you,” I say. “Just not today.”
“Of course.” He grins. “Thanks for showing me this.”
“You should take him to the tower of sleepers,” Pom suggests. “It’s my favorite spot.”
I grab Felix by the shoulder and fly him to the tower.
“Trippy,” he breathes when he sees the nook with another version of him sleeping and another version of me standing over him with my finger on his forehead.
“That’s you and me in Pom’s dream, my gateway to the dream world in this case,” I explain. “We’re now in the same location, of sorts, but in your dream. Hence the extra bodies. When I exit your dream, I’ll be in that body—and I’ll get back to my real body in that limo after I’m done in Pom’s dream.”
“Like I said, trippy.” He looks up and squints at a nook a floor up. “Wait, hold on… Is that Ariel?”
Crap. I forgot they’re roommates. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have taken him here. What if Ariel doesn’t want him to know she’s a patient of mine?
“You seriously need to wake up,” I forcefully tell him. “Now.”
He intuits my concern. “Oh, don’t worry. She told me you’re helping her.”
I give him my best poker face. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“Well, I want to thank you anyway. Ariel’s been through a lot, and ever since she went to rehab and started your treatments, I noticed real progress with all her issues.”
I wince internally. “Please, let’s not talk about my hypothetical therapy sessions.”
“Understood. Just keep doing what you do. I don’t need to know what it is.”
I sigh. “Anything else?”
“Sure.” He looks around again. “How do I wake up?”
“Just wish to do so.”
He closes his eyes, which I didn’t tell him to do, and gets a constipated expression on his face—but clearly doesn’t wake up. After a few seconds, I grow bored and push him from the dream world with a small jolt of my powers.
Both Felixes shimmer into nothingness. On my end, the version of me from Felix’s dream disappears, and I find myself in the body next to the empty bed where Felix was a moment ago.
Pom flies up and lands on the pillow. “So. Are you going to help Ariel now?”
“Might as well.” I head over to her nook.
“Good,” Pom states. “I like Ariel.”
Of course he likes Ariel. Pom’s male, after all. Sort of. Maybe.
On Gomorrah, we call Ariel’s kind of Cognizant ubers. That’s not because they chauffeur everyone around—our cars drive themselves—but because they’re uber strong and uber attractive. The term among Earth Cognizant is strongmen, which is dumb because female ubers are just as strong as males, and because the label doesn’t begin to cover their extraordinary looks.
Reaching Ariel’s bed, I look her over. With her glossy dark hair and lightly bronzed skin, she’s striking even for an uber. Her face, with its strong nose and finely defined jaw, is so symmetrical you’d think a video game designer had toiled for years to craft such perfection, and her body is what humans on Earth label “an impossible standard of beauty.”
I’m actually glad Felix noticed her here. This might be my last chance to provide therapy for anyone, and Ariel isn’t just a patient anymore. She’s become a friend.
“Stay invisible,” I tell Pom.
He nods disappointedly.
I touch Ariel’s melted-candy-smooth forehead and sink into her dreams.