Somnium Rising

Chapter One

'...the stars have always been the envy of man. What mystical wonders lie beyond the veil of the night sky that sparks our curiosity to explore.

Our curiosity became our obsession. And our obsession became our sin. We created the Soteria Explorer to represent a bastion of human ingenuity, and a beacon of hope. But we fuelled our dreams at the expense of our planet. Alas, with the whimper of a dying candle, Earth now lies in taters until the end of its star.

We may be refugees in a vast and desolate universe, but we are unified on our desperate journey for survival. Fifteen million passengers. One big happy family.'

The daily propaganda reel of Atticus corporation. Lecturing us from the comfort of Bay 1 about sacrifice, pride, and equality. One big happy family! Bay 5 is anything but a happy family.

'You mind turning that mumbo jumbo off?'

Some people find comfort listening to the same pathetic story of how we abandoned our past in hopes of a better future. The way I see it, hope is no different to luck. They both rely on the coin landing on one side or the other. I'm not much of a gambling man, but they both sound like the words of a gambler to me.

'You got it.'

Al mutes the broadcast with the flick of a switch. He squints his eyes as he focuses in on mine.

'Hey, you sleeping alright? You look kind of beat around the eyes.'

  'No, and you know why.'

He leans in closer and rests both hands on the counter in front of me. A tattered white towel hangs over his right shoulder.

'Is it the nightmares again?'

'Yes.'

'When was the last time you slept?'

'Two weeks ago. At the dream catcher clinic, ironically enough.'

'Two weeks!?' he says in shock and awe. 'How are you even functioning?'

I reach for my left pocket and place a pill box on the counter. The label reads amphetamine.

'Still taking them, huh. You're not doing yourself any favours.'

'Yes, well, I'm open to suggestions.'

He hesitates for a moment as he pulls away from the counter.

'I'm not programmed for medical advice.'

'And yet here we are.'

'Are you making any progress at the clinic?'

'Oh, yes, absolutely. A couple more sessions and I'll finally get that well done sticker plastered on my jacket.'

I was being sarcastic, of course. Dream catchers are psychologists dressed in a swanky spandex outfit with access to flashy state-of-the-art equipment. They inject you with a heavy sedative for eight hours as a computer tracks all the neural activity in your brain and then creates a virtual roadmap. The operators then isolate the dream, and either suppress or erase it. It doesn't always work though, as is the case with me.

'How many sessions do you have left?'

'Three.'

'Why don't you get it over and done with?'

I let out a deep sigh before responding, 'I'm not sure, buddy.'

'Why don't you take some time off and visit a simulation centre,' he says with much glee and excitement. 'Take a trip to the beach and relax for a couple days.'