Serendipity (Book 1 of the Dana Halliday series)

A VERY STRANGE DREAM. NOT A LOBSTERHEAD. ALIEN DU JOUR.

I had a very strange dream.

My first awareness was that the texture of the cushions under me had changed, from the rough weave of my own couch to smooth leather.  The second was the silence, an indifferent silence only underlined by a low, penetrating hum from somewhere below.

I opened my eyes, and I was in a small room, dark, claustrophobic, and carpeted.  There was a dimly glowing window directly across from me, larger than Mr. Moore's bay window.  I had the impression of being on a top floor.  The ceiling was very close and curved, as though I was in a tin can or a silo on its side.  As I stood, I instinctively ducked my head, although I would've needed to wear heels to hit it.

I looked behind me, behind the couch.  There was a countertop with a small fridge, a microwave, and a tiny sink.  A battered wooden table sat directly behind the couch.  The carpet was thin, mottled, and of a vague no-color, probably chosen for its durability rather than its dubious looks.  I could smell coffee, sharp in the staleness of the air.  At either end of the room there were doors.

My head turned slowly, panning the room, and I decided I should go through one of the doors.  I felt very light, almost buoyant, as I chose Door Number One to my right and started toward it.  As I did, I caught movement in the window and decided to check that out first.  When I saw what was outside, I let out a scream.

The planet Earth was rising slowly in the window, blue and white in a field of utter nothing.

My legs gave out, and I hit the rough carpet hard enough to scorch my knees through my jeans.  As I fell, I realized I was closer to the window than I'd thought; for an instant I could imagine falling through the window as you would in a dream, and what would happen then?  Would I float through space or would I fall?  How high up were we?  Were we close enough to the planet for gravity to pull us down?  Why was I thinking in terms of we and us?

Another cry, softer and higher pitched, escaped my throat.  I crabbed away from the window on my heels and hands, unable to get the sensation of falling out of my core.  I realized the window was bobbing gently up and down as though we were floating in water, and my stomach gave a dismayed lurch.  

"Oh god."  The flat, tinny sound of my voice made me want to scream again.  "Oh god."

"Dana?"

It was Flynt's voice, and I knew with my dreamlike certainty that he had been behind me in the corner, in the shadows.  I didn't turn around, powerless to tear my gaze away from the planet—the goddamned planet Earth—drifting just beyond the glass.  

He was kneeling behind me now, and his hands settled lightly on my shoulders.  "Dana, it's all right.  I promise.  You're perfectly safe."

A strangled noise emerged from my mouth.  "Flynt, oh shit, we're in fucking orbit!"  I attempted to scoot back again, but he didn't move, and so I just cringed against him, wrapping my arms round my knees.  "Oh my god, I'm dreaming, I've got to be dreaming."

"You're not, but I know it feels like you are.  Just take some deep breaths."

I tried, although the best I managed was a few squeaking gasps.  Okay, Dana, the Finnish Wonder can talk reality all he wants, but you know this is a dream.  Pretty damn lucid dream, but yeah.  Dream.  So it doesn't matter, if you take a plunge through the ionosphere or whatever, you'll just wake up.  Go with it.

I had just convinced myself of the wisdom of this when Flynt squeezed my shoulders in a reassuring manner.  His hands were burning hot, and I put my own hand over his, wanting to touch something familiar.