Class began as it did every Monday, with the teacher asking everyone about their weekend, and what they thought about world events. There was only one topic that anyone really wanted to talk about, naturally. The Incursion Events were a serious matter, and the consequences of a breach from the other side into this reality was not something most of the students were aware was even a possibility, it never having happened as long as anyone of them could remember.

  The teacher shared some stories from her own memory of the time post-catastrophe, when such events were much more frequent. She tried to end it on an upbeat note, stating that the Ministries had come a long way from those days, which was why there hadn’t been any loss of life in over a decade.

  They then shifted into reading time, and in this Ryan really agreed with Derek. Salinger could write, but the character in this story was completely unrelatable to him. Ryan hated him. The class was taking turns reading out loud. Ryan had a bad habit of keeping a book under his desk during such sessions, so he could read something that he enjoyed. He had a system down where he would wait for his turn to read and then tune out, knowing he wouldn’t be called on again for a while.

  He was suddenly regretting only grabbing the eBook versions of his book list from the library. He had a thought though and, as sneakily as he could, pulled out his device. He looked up the Sifting app in the store and was surprised to find it was already installed. He glanced up to make sure the teacher wasn’t looking at him and then opened it up. Again, he was surprised to see his eBooks waiting for him as little bouncing book icons near the bottom of the screen.

  There was something about his dream that reminded him of a passage he had read the other night that he wanted to read again. He began to scroll through the book until he came across what he was looking for.

  What is a dream? A random series of images, that the part of the mind that requires a narrative strings together? Is there something more to them than just the brain’s way of entertaining consciousness while it goes about its task of incorporating experiences from the previous day? There was a theory, touted by the founder of the Minerva Device, that while there are an infinite number of possible realities, based off infinitely incalculable variables of chance and choice, only the one manifests. He posited that our dreams were a way for the other possibilities to be expressed, translated through the symbolism of our collective consciousness, allowing the waveform of those realities to finally collapse.

  Some say that dreams can predict the future. If the latter is true, what, then, happens if we can control our dreams? Repeat this mantra to yourself daily: “Our dreams control the future. If we control our dreams, we control the future.”

  “What was that, Ryan?” he heard his teacher say. Ryan looked up to find every eye in the classroom on him.

  “That is, to uh,” he glanced back down at their place in the story, “to say that if we have unrealistic expectations early on in life, we’re bound to be disappointed when we see the world as it is.”

  “Hmm,” the teacher said skeptically. “Ok. For a moment there I thought you might be reading something else under your desk again.” The class let out a chuckle, Derek gave him a “way to go, dude” look. He only turned slightly red, and the teacher moved on. Feeling caught, Ryan put his phone away and did his best to pay attention for the rest of the class.

  Ironically, having nothing to occupy him while the class worked its way through the classic tale, his mind began to wander further. How could there have been three Incursion events so close together. Especially ones strong enough that would lead to the death of a Traveler. He thought about his dream, and what he was growing to believe was waiting behind the door to the Janitor’s Closet. Was his dream predicting the future? He dismissed the thought. An Incursion event had not occurred in an outer district for over a decade, and even then, it had never occurred in District 7. Like the person that looked like Lisa in his dream, the door was probably a metaphor for some other part of his psyche. Yes, he told himself, that made much more sense.

  ***

  Inner City was a massive sprawling metropolis, built atop the ruins of a once great city. Skyscrapers of old were mere foundations for the massive buildings piercing the heavens. Hovering vehicles traveled in layers of traffic patterns up into the perpetually grey sky. There were parts of the massive structures that looked newer than the others. Scars of the destructive events of the Crisss, when reality had started to tear itself apart.

  Down in the shadowed bottom of the city, where old ground vehicles sat rusted into place from when they had been abandoned centuries ago, there was a rugged gash in the pavement trailing down one of the streets. At the end of the gash slumped a bloody heap of flesh, with mangled and broken fingers the size of city busses cracked and broken beneath it. Atop the mess sat a lone figure, dressed in a black suit that cling tightly to a lithe feminine form. She was wiping clean the silver blade of a katana, a fierce unwavering focus in her eyes, and her long black hair, pulled into a tight ponytail, swayed back and forth as she worked.

  “That is the last of them, Mae,” came a staticky voice from inside her earpiece. “The rest of the Unit is waiting for you back at the Incursion Site.” The woman sighed, stood up, and sheathed her sword. She knew a cleanup crew would be along shortly to deal with the remains, so she hopped down and started dashing back towards the astral tear. It was several blocks away, but the suit she wore, made of smart nano-weave tech, was able to enhance her strength and speed, so it only took her a few minutes to get there.

  She rounded the final corner and there it was, a large distortion in the sky above the street, sending out peals of white-blue light in erratic bursts as it emitted a screeching sound like metal grinding against concrete. It looked like a piece of glass had cracked the fabric of reality, with jagged splinters reaching out from the epicenter. There was a shift in her posture as she noticed the splinters growing longer. Underneath she saw the other two in her unit waiting, staring up at the chaotic hole in reality. One was a tall muscular man, with short brown hair. The other was a redheaded woman, with a similar stature to Mae, if a bit rounder in certain places. She, too, had her hair tied up in a ponytail. They both wore the same black nano-weave suits as Mae.

  “Tristan! Sarah! What are you two waiting for?” She half shouted over the grinding and screeching sound coming from the tear. “You should already be in your suspension chambers. We need to get that tear closed before any more anomalies make it through, or worse.”

  “Worse is right,” came the voice from their earpieces. “We’re estimating roughly thirty minutes until we have a full-on Astral Burst.”

  “That could level this entire block,” Sarah said. “I think these are load bearing for the upper city too.”

  “We can speculate later,” Tristan said. “Mae is right, we need to get in there and repair the node.” He turned towards the vehicle parked at the side of the street. It looked like a silver pill; an elongated featureless cylinder that hovered a few feet off the ground. As he approached, a section on the side of the vehicle appeared and he climbed inside. Sarah followed with Mae close behind.

  The moment she was through the entrance the door phased back into existence and the cacophony outside was immediately silenced. Inside was a white, cozy space, with five reclining couches. They looked plush and comfortable. Each of them took their seats, leaning back, and the lights began to dim.

  “No time to do this unassisted,” Mae said. The other two nodded, and they tapped a pad on the armrests of their chairs. A compartment opened to reveal a small bottle with a dropper cap. Mae suppressed a grimace at the thought of the bitter chemical inside, but she didn’t hesitate. Along with the others she extracted the contents of the bottle and put a drop of the liquid on her tongue. She quickly put the dropper back in the bottle and returned it to the compartment.

  The world began to lose its distinctiveness, she felt a pressure on her chest along with the urge to fall into a thousand dreams. Long practice helped her suppress that urge, and she began the process of focusing on forming her Astral Body. This was essential to being able to affect anything on the other side. The more time spent over there, the more detailed a body one required. Now, floating above her unconscious form, rose a robed figure, hair loose and floating as if under water, with sporadic shimmers of electricity flowing through the follicles intermittently.

  She focused on the tether between her Astral and True Body, enhancing it through a force of will. She turned to see the other two were ready and waiting. Tristan’s form glowed like a cinder, while Sarah’s emanated a warm revitalizing aura. They looked up, rose through the vehicle and, one by one, entered the astral fissure.

  ***

  “It was only for a brief time, and I couldn’t go far, but it was one of the most amazing and strange experiences of my life.” Ryan finished his tale of the previous night. Lisa and Derek had listened with rapt attention to the story of his first out-of-body experience. The looks on his two friends’ faces clearly juxtaposed the differences in their reactions. Derek’s was the look of his usual skepticism, while Lisa’s was harder to pin down. Complicated at least. They were hanging out in the cafeteria where they were grabbing a snack for the mid-morning break. Derek held an unpeeled banana while Lisa had gorged herself on a blueberry muffin, making it halfway through before the subject of Ryan’s story got her attention.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just another lucid dream?” Derek asked.

  “Pretty sure,” Ryan said, contemplating the look on Lisa’s face for another moment before turning back to Derek. “It’s hard to describe. You know how dreams have a certain feel to them. Even Lucid dreams have that same feel. Being out of my body felt like being awake but disconnected from physicality. When I was back in my body it didn’t feel like waking up. It was as if I was already awake through the whole experience. I’m not sure why I couldn’t go more than a few feet from my body though. That tugging sensation on my belly got stronger the further away I got.”

  “It’s the Soul Tether,” Lisa said. “It’s what keeps your body and soul connected during projection. If it isn’t enhanced, an unconsciously formed limit will be placed to protect that connection.” She looked a little disheartened as she shared her knowledge.

  “This must really grate at you, huh Lisa. You’ve been trying this for years and Ryan pulls it off in a few days?” Derek intended his words to come across as playful teasing, but the jab hit a little too close to home, and both the boys knew it immediately.

  “I think I can share the eBook with you through the Sifting App, if you want Lisa?” Ryan said, trying to mediate the damage.

  “Sorry Lis,” Derek said. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

  Lisa let out a frustrated sigh but put a smile back on her face. “Sure Ryan, I’ll take a look. And you’re a jerk Derek Peterson.” She punched him on the arm, a little harder than usual. He started rubbing at it immediately after, though without protesting his punishment.

  “Even though I might not be speaking from experience,” she went on, giving Derek another seething look while directing her words towards Ryan. “I believe what you want to do next time is focus on developing your ‘Astral Body’ which will help solidify your presence on the other side.”

  “I think there's a section on that in my second reading assignment,” Ryan said. “I haven’t really had a chance to delve into that one yet.”

  “I could take a look at that one as well if you don’t mind,” Lisa said. “What about the third one on that list?

  “As far as I can tell that one is just a bunch of gibberish,” Ryan complained. “I did notice a strange reaction between it and…” Ryan trailed off. He had an inhibition towards telling anyone about the Concentrated Firmament. The stranger’s words to tell no one reverberated in his mind. He didn’t know he came from or why he had given the strange object to Ryan, but he was certain it was important he keep it to himself. “…and the way words look in dreams,” Ryan said, attempting to recover. Lisa gave him another look that he didn’t know how to interpret. Was that suspicion on her face?

  “Well,” she said, letting him off the hook for his near blunder. “I can probably help you a bit with densification, if you want.”

  “Den—sifi—cation?” Ryan said, testing out the word.

  “That’s what it’s called. Astral Densification. Or Stabilization. Or Embodiment. I have a few tricks I could teach you. Maybe come by after school?” Both Ryan and Derek’s eyes widened at the suggestion. A stupid grin crept at the corners of Derek’s mouth while Ryan remained somewhat flabbergasted.

  “Uh, sure,” he stammered. “I mean, I can’t,” he looked a little crestfallen. “I have the afterschool thing with Derek.”

  “Not a problem,” she said. “You can stop by after that.”

  “Yeah, ok then,” he confirmed. “It’s not like my Mom will be waiting for me to get home anyway.”

  “That’s not fair,” Lisa chided.

  “I know, sorry.”

  “That’s not like you,” Derek said. “You usually sound proud about how much your mother works. Everything ok?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t know where that came from. Maybe I’m feeling a little bit lonely lately. And I’ve been waking up a lot more groggily than usual as well.”

  “Quit messing with your sleep cycle so much then, man. And you know you’re not alone.” Derek put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “You’ve got us.” Lisa nodded encouragingly. Ryan gave them both a smile, doing his best to hide the tide of emotions that had begun to fester in him recently.

  ***

  “Something’s wrong Mae,” Sarah said, running her hand along the rocky wall, slick with moisture. “I haven’t seen the Astral actualize this solidly since the Crisis.” The astral realm they had entered had changed form from when they had entered the last time. Before it had been the typical fuzzy detailed unreality they were used to. Now it was like they were in a realized space. It took on the appearance of an underground cave with meandering paths and rocky walls with a low ceiling. A floating orb of flame hovered near each of them, curtesy of Tristan’s ability, casting flickering shadows over the textured surfaces.

  They had not yet encountered any of the creatures that had broken through the breach, as they made their way through the maze of corridors. Still, there was a sense of growing dread as they wandered deeper in, an increasingly heavy weight tugging at their chests.

  “It’s not our job to speculate on the nature of this event,” Mae said, all business. “We just need to find the source of the anomalous activity and repair the fracture.”

  “Still, what the hell kind of beings are these?” Sarah shuddered while gesticulating. “Giant hands. Little hands. Hands?! Not the type of nightmare creatures we’ve ever had to deal with before.”

  “I think he’s having bad dreams,” Tristan said.

  “I thought he didn’t dream anymore,” Sarah returned. “No detectable activity in the brain since they induced the coma.”

  “It’s either that or we’re dealing with a cosmic entity that has a thing for human hands,” Tristan said.

  “Let’s just focus on finding the core,” Mae said. “In fact, I think we’re getting close.” She turned a corner and stepped into an expansive cavern, lit by a soft amber light. All three of them looked in awe at the crystalline structures jutting from the wall.

  “Pure amrita deposits,” Sarah whispered reverently.

  “We should probably do a little mining while we’re here Mae,” Tristan suggested. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to enhance our abilities. This is a rare find.” Mae nodded her ascent but kept a wary eye on the rest of the cavern. “Don’t worry,” he said, noticing her expression. “I’ll be quick. I am uncomfortable with what this amount of raw amrita actualizing means for how much time we have left.” He pinched his fingers together causing a warm glow to appear between them, as he pulled them apart a ball of flame appeared and then lanced out in a searing white beam, cutting off sections of the crystal. He took several large pieces and placed them into a bag that looked entirely too small compared to what he was putting in them.

  A skittering sound pattered in echoes throughout the cavern, bouncing off the various surfaces. All three turned in the same direction simultaneously, sensing the source of the noise. An emerald bow appeared in Sarahs left hand and she plucked and arrow from then air behind her back, notching it into a glowing golden string on the bow. Tristan ignited a fireball in each hand. Mae drew her katana, electricity arcing along the blade. A thousand tiny hands swarmed towards them, like an infestation of plague rats fleeing a coming flood.

  ***

  “So, you’re telling me it works?” Derek said.

  “I’m not saying it works,” Ryan corrected. They were having a hushed conversation at their usual spot during the lunch period. Lisa had gone off to do, whatever it is girls did, and Ryan had used that chance to talk about their jailbreaking project. “We won’t know if it actually works until it runs out of HP.”

  “But still, it is deducting health from itself without even getting to the lying part. I think that means it knows you will know it is lying and determines it will lose the health regardless. That’s some serious predictive reasoning.”

  “It is one of the most advanced personal AI’s on the market,” Ryan said. He had just finished his meal and stood up to toss it in the trash. The bin was only five or six feet away, and he’d made the shot a thousand times, but on this day an unexpected gust lifted the Styrofoam container up and popped open the latch, causing the half eating burger to flip out and land on the one shoe in the whole school that it shouldn’t have.

  Jeremy Witkins looked down at his once pristine sneakers, mouth agape. His toadies scoffed, covering their mouths and pointing. The bustle around the yard grew silent. Jeremy visibly pulled himself together and then looked up to see Ryan frozen in the mid throw position, eyes wide with horror.

  “So, it’s not just losing to me at the writing contest,” Jeremy said. “You’re jealous of my shoes too?” He looked down at Ryan’s sneakers, which were admittedly a little worse for wear. “Still,” he said, sitting down next to Ryan on the bench and putting a friendly, consoling arm over his shoulders. “You didn’t miss out on much. The grand prize was a lie anyway. The whole line of PerSpectives were recalled due to faulty software or some such. My father has already filed a lawsuit for false advertising. We’ll probably make more in the settlement than those stupid goggles were worth. All I got for my efforts was this SmartPaper.”

  He pulled out what looked like a folded piece of paper, and then used it to wipe the ketchup stain from his shoe. “See, even a paper towel has more utility than this crap.” He tossed the stained paper onto Ryan’s lap. “Whoops,” he said. “Seems I’ve made it look like you soiled yourself.” There were various pained “oo’s” and chuckles from the crowd that had stopped to observe the interaction. The general feeling was that of disappointment, as Jeremy’s reaction to Ryan’s blunder seemed relatively tame. Still, Ryan felt the heat on his face that came with the inevitable blush of embarrassment. “Anyway, you can have it. I already have loads of this crap at home.” He got up and left, Ryan and Derek mouth agape at the departing kid’s back.

  “What was that?” Derek said finally.

  “I think,” Ryan replied, picking up the paper. “That was Jeremy’s version of being nice.” He looked down at his pants in dismay. “It really does look like I soiled myself. But I’m keeping this SmartPaper. I’m pretty sure it’s water resistant, so I’m going to go rinse it off in the bathroom sink. Maybe I can clean off the stains on my pants without making it look like I really wet myself.”

  After cleaning off as much as he could of himself and his unexpected gift, Ryan put the paper into his pocket, sliding it right up against the marble he kept in there. The moment his fingers touched the Concentrated Firmament he felt a brief painful shock, causing him to jerk his hand away. “Ow,” he exclaimed angrily, sucking on his now numb finger. “What was that?” He stepped out into the hallway and nearly collided with one of the non-teacher faculty members.

  “Jesus, Ryan, I almost ran you over!” It was Mr. Clark, one of the school’s IT Administrators. Tall, gangly, and strapped with a utility belt full of various tools of the trade, he was like the MacGyver of the technical world. Ryan shook his head at the reference from centuries past that most people wouldn’t even get.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know the life of a lowly IT,” opined the bespectacled gentleman, adjusting his black tie. “Always running from one crisis to the next.”

  “What crisis are you running away from this time?” Ryan asked with a wry smile.

  “Ahem, excuse me young sir,” the IT tsked with his index finger. “I am actually heading towards danger this time.” His brow scrunched. “Actually, this probably would be a good time to get your friend Derek involved. The best way to learn how to fix things is to deal with them while they’re broken.” Derek was also a part of the Information Systems club and shadowed the IT department during free period to learn the ropes of that trade. “If you see him, send him to the janitor’s closet on the west wing.” Ryan stopped breathing for a second.

  “The j-janitor’s closet? What’s going on in there?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Mr. Clark. “Something is interfering with the school’s network, and I think I’ve narrowed it down to the network stack we have racked above the ceiling tile in there. Anyway, no time to chat, I gotta get going. Don’t forget to tell Derek to join me when you see him.” With that Mr. Clark rushed off down the hallway. Ryan turned and headed back towards his friend.

  ***

  “Mission Report,” Xavier Chandra, the Director of the Incursion Specialists division of the Ministry of Integrity’s Crisis Response department demanded as the three exhausted looking Travelers entered the debriefing room at their headquarters in the Ministry of Integrity. They had had bags under their eyes and their skin looked pallid. Tristan, cradling his brow in attempt to massage away his headache, was the first to speak.

  “The node breach is secured. Locus repaired within 98% of its original form. There will be no more Incursions from that location.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a ‘Mission Success’ kind of response,” Xavier challenged. “What went wrong?” This time Mae spoke up.

  “This one was different boss,” she said. “There seemed to be an intelligence behind the anomalies. When we got inside there were millions of those little hands all over the walls and floors. They tried crawling up our skin and insinuating themselves into us. After I let out a chain lighting burst, they retreated and formed into what looked like a little child. He smiled and then sank into the Locus somehow. We were not able to detect him so we repaired it and the fissure closed…”

  “…but it feels like this isn’t over,” Sarah finished for her. Xavier looked thoughtful, rubbing the smooth dark skin over the top of his bald head.

  “It is possible He is trying to wake up,” he said. The entire group looked suddenly much more alert.

  “Whoa, Boss,” said Tristan. “That’s a little bit of a leap. More like, he’s having a nightmare.” The burly man repeated his thoughts from when they were in the incursion space.

  “That could be worse,” Xavier said. “Ok, I hate to do this to you guys, but we need to stay on high alert. Get rest, as much as you can, but be ready for another call. If you’re right, it will be sooner rather than later.” The trio sauntered out of the room to get some much-needed rack time.

  An older man with a ruddy complexion entered the room through the back door after the team had left. Dr. Heraldo Fuentes, the head of the Astral Incursion Research Division, was a contemporary of the famous Dr. Neuman, though they had parted ways when Dr. Fuentes decided to work directly under the Ministry of Integrity. He had a white goatee on his chin and crew cut on his head that practically glowed against the darker skin. When he spoke his accent carried the lilt that suggested his mother tongue was of Latin origin.

  “I’m not sure it was wise to mention him during your debriefing,” the man said. “That information is highly restricted.”

  “Doctor Fuentes, I was curious if you were listening in. If my A Team can’t handle that level of information then they wouldn’t be my A Team,” Xavier said. “It’s all speculation at this point. If there really was any brain activity that would be a different matter altogether.”

  “Funny you should mention that” the older man said.

  “You’re kidding.” Xavier stated with a finality that suggested he better not be.

  “It was just a brief spike,” the man said. “But the timing was a little more than curious. Right around when the node was repaired, in fact.” Xavier just stared at him. “Also, there was a power surge in District 7 moments later.”

  “Don’t play coy with me doctor,” Xavier said coldly. “Just cut to the chase.”

  “Sorry Director, we scientists don’t like to speak in absolutes. But I understand you need something actionable. Long story short, the prevailing theory is that whatever has caused the last couple of events has moved to the seventh district. We don’t know its motivation or purpose, but we believe it is only a matter of time before an Incursion event occurs in that district.”

  “A brief power surge that happened to coincide with one of our operations is a bit thin to act upon,” Xavier said. “How can you rule it as anything other than a coincidence?”

  “Well,” the doctor leaned forward conspiratorially. “And this actually is quite confidential,” he whispered. “But a person of interest was detected in that area just a few days ago.” The Director’s head tilted and his eye rose.

  “Tiresias?” he asked.

  “No, someone else we have been tracking since the Crisis. But we have strong reason to believe if he was there, the other had some influence on events. Either way, our predictive models heavily imply that the next event is most likely to occur in that area.”

  “How much time?” Xavier asked.

  “By our calculations, based off the recorded pre-phenomena of the last two incursions and the frequency of the pulse we detected after the power surge, we are estimating approximately thirty-six hours until a tear forms.” The doctor adjusted his frameless glasses, a nervous gesture he indulged in more frequently around the Director than anywhere else.

  “Understood, I’ll get my team ready to deploy as soon as they’ve recovered from their last mission.”

  “A wise choice, sir,” the scientist said, bowing slightly. “Anything they can do to ascertain the purpose of this entity will be greatly appreciated.”

  “Of course, all the information from our mission logs is at your disposal,” the director said as a polite dismissal. After he left Xavier tapped a few times on his watch. The sound of Mae’s voice came through his earpiece after only half a ring.

  “Boss?”

  “This isn’t over, get your unit rested and ready to deploy in six hours,” he said.

  “Sir, it will take longer than six hours to recover from a chemically induced projection,” she protested. Mae would never question authority in front of her team, but when it was just between the two of them, she wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for them. It was what made her a great unit leader, but Xavier had to admit it rankled him slightly.

  “You can continue to rest up en route,” he said. “Analysis division says we have 36 hours until the next event.”

  “Where we headed?” she asked.

  “District Seven?!” Sarah complained a few minutes later after Mae had informed the two of their upcoming mission. “What are we doing going out to some backwater province? We’re a little high profile to suddenly show up there unannounced. Won’t that cause a huge panic?”

  “You know better than to question orders,” Mae chided. “Chandra has a cover for us in the works anyway,” she added. “Apparently we’re going to be doing a little recruiting for the next generation of Travelers.”

  “What, we’re assessing students for potential at the local high school?” Tristan asked. “That’s not a bad cover, if you think about it. The other teams have gone out to several districts over the last couple of years to find potentials amongst the applicants to the Astral Academy. Our boss is no fool.”

  “No, he isn’t. Let’s get rested up as best we can, we leave in six hours.” Mae left them to it and headed for the shower. As steam began to rise from the hot jet of water, she tapped a panel on her left shoulder in a specific series of patterns and the skintight suit became slack, loosening so she could strip it off her body. A large, jagged scar flared from her left shoulder down across her back, stopping near the right side of her belly. The wound had healed long ago, but now it felt raw like the day she’d received it. She thought back to her time as a child, before everything in her life went sideways.

  “Tommy,” she whispered. “Why did you have to…” she trailed off, shaking her head before stepping into the steaming stream of water, letting herself get lost in the mist that filled up the tiled space.