“I see. And she agreed to this life?”
“It’s better than exile from Soma,” Maxwell says softly.
I could argue but opt not to.
“They’re there willingly.” There’s a note of defensiveness in Bebe’s voice.
I scratch the back of my head. “What I don’t get is how they keep the whole ‘ignorance is bliss’ attitude while they’re awake.”
“That was a challenge, but they solved it. In exchange for being able to visit the dream world, Escapist illusionists do their best to make the awake time—what they call Contemplative Domain—go smoother for the dreamwalkers. For example, they make sure no Escapist sees Soma as it really is, with the unusual sky and all.”
Right. She’s already mentioned something like that. “How do they maintain a dream world that’s shared by so many people?” I ask.
“Actually, the dream changes, but there’s still coordination involved. It’s one of the things they also deal with while awake.”
“I’m glad we came while they’re asleep,” I say. “I’m curious about their world.”
Valerian squeezes my shoulder. “Careful, now. I don’t want you to like it so much you’d abandon reality.”
I laugh. “Even if it’s the most utopian heaven imaginable, the machines would be a deal breaker for me. Besides”—I make eye contact with him—“there are things in the real world I wouldn’t want to leave behind.”
“That’s sweet,” Bebe says. “Now, is everyone ready to go in?”
We all nod.
She gestures at nearby cots. “Valerian, you should lie down.”
Valerian obeys, and she puts him into REM sleep. Then she lies down on the nearby cot and extends her hand toward him. “See you in my dreams.”
“I’m going in,” my father says, gesturing toward Bebe.
I also make a remote dream connection with my grandmother and dive in.
When I show up in my dream palace, Pom is there, waving his furry paw at me.
“You’re in for a treat,” I say. “We’re about to meet my twin.”
He flies up to my shoulder, his fur turning a deep golden color. “Let’s hurry up.”
I get us to the tower of sleepers and turn my head to look into Pom’s guileless eyes. “Would you mind staying invisible?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what the Escapists might find unpleasant.”
The tips of his ears redden. “You think they might find me unpleasant?”
“I doubt it,” I say, making him invisible myself. “But they do seem crazy, so who knows.”
“I’ll be quiet,” he says solemnly.
“Thanks.”
I locate my grandmother in the tower of sleepers, touch her forehead, and prepare to see the dream world that the Escapists prefer to reality.
Chapter Eighteen
We’re on the bottom of the ocean.
Bebe, Valerian, and my father are breathing effortlessly, so I let myself inhale the water. Instead of causing pain to my lungs, as it would in the real world, this liquid pleasantly fills me up and leaves a scent of salty ocean surf in my nostrils.
“I guess it’s nice to completely forget reality sometimes,” I say, and my voice sounds normal despite the liquid around us.
Valerian looks up. “You can say that again.”
I follow his gaze, and my breath catches as I take in the view above us.
If this were a real ocean bottom, everything would be pitch black. These depths, however, are lit up like a shallow coral reef on a sunny day.
But the light—and the lack of crushing water pressure—are just the beginnings of the wonders. There’s an underwater city here, and it sprawls from horizon to horizon. With its floating castle-like skyscrapers and mind-numbingly large scale, it puts even Gomorrah to shame.
“Welcome to the Water Domain,” Bebe says. “It’s Asha’s favorite.”
“There are other domains?” I strain to see above the water.
“So many I’ve lost count.” Bebe raises her arms above her head like a diver and launches up, torpedo-style.
Valerian, my father, and I follow.
Bebe stops her ascent next to one of the largest castle-like buildings and floats there until we catch up.
“This is Asha’s home,” she says, gesturing for us to get inside.
We end up in a room the size of a large theme park—much larger than the castle was from the outside.
“They’re probably in the living room,” Bebe says and zooms through the water toward a pair of doors the size of five-story buildings.
She pushes them open, and I’m startled to see that the next room lacks water.
“The Escapists don’t bother with realism,” Bebe says when she notices me staring at the spot where a wall of water simply stands in defiance of common sense.
Without comment, I step from the watery room into the air of the next one.
Consistent with the lack of realism Bebe mentioned, I’m not wet in the slightest. Nor are the others when they join me.
Apart from being waterless, this room is just as big as the prior one, making it even less likely that it could be inside the castle we entered. Oh, and the views from the floor-to-ceiling windows are those of a desert, not of any kind of watery domain.