Dreamfield Chapter 2

Kavel has returned to his home planet to launch the next Dreamfield habitation, and confronts the leader of his city on his conflict of interest.

Solvinar was still the jewel of Hapsia with its rich cultural heritage, its gondola filled streams, and the transition that existed within its walls between an ancient culture and a technological hub. It was above this city that Kavel commissioned a floating island for the gala that would commemorate the launch of his current Dreamfield habitation period.

Kavel approached the centre of this floating island. It was currently devoid of the light which saturated the lower atmosphere. The only light source on the guests was the sparkling moon where Kavel held the habitation zone. The colourful hues of the rich landscapes of Dreamfield’s presence sparkled in the sky, surrounded by a spattering of the stars.

He made the announcement, “now that you all are here, including Talikkel Peblo, our illustrious city’s High Civarch of Solvinar. Are you ready for us to begin, our esteemed leader?”

“Begin, wha--?”

Before he could finish, a faint sound of flutes, followed by duel bow dulcimers invaded the silence. The instruments grew louder, and as their volume increased, so did the coloured light that shifted hue as it flowed throughout the atmosphere.

As the crowd clapped, Kavel fixed his gaze on the High Civarch. Peblo was squirming in his chair. Kavel knew he put him in an impossible position. He knew that the Civarch held some loyalties to the Lucian administration, the same administration that would have considered Kavel’s gala for the Dreamfield launch to be illegal due to its contraband activities.

However, Kavel saw the response of the guests. They were in awe. Seeing this, Kavel maneuvered his way to the Civarch. He watched his face as the guests were saying, “what a beautiful display,” as he responded to them saying,

“If you think this is amazing, wait until you see what comes next.”

Before Peblo could give Kavel his concerns, the music changed in beat, matched by the colours that surrounded them. Dancers rose up from the floor. They were of the Daran race: gel-like shapeshifters who could change their forms with elegant precision. They transformed in wavy movements to the beat of the music. Kavel swayed, himself, despite his inability to perform the same kinds of movements as the Darans.

“This is excessive,” whispered Peblo into Kavel’s ear, “there’s going to be trouble.”

“Only if someone reports me to the Lucians while evidence still exists,” Kavel looked Peblo in the eye, “are you intending to do so, most high Civarch of Solvinar?”

“I--well--”

“Are you?” Kavel repeated with greater emphasis, “remember, High Civarch of Solvinar, many of these guests are in your jurisdiction, and I’m sure, many of them are legally allowed to vote.”

As Kavel spoke, a group of Lucians entered from multiple directions. Their robes swished as they walked through the fields. The majority looked at the lights and the dancers with contempt, some covering their ears from the music. To Kavel’s surprise, however, a few looked in awe, and one or two even danced when no one was looking.

As they entered, Kavel tapped the shoulder of the Civarch, “Now, these people are not qualified to vote in the city of Solvinar. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this.”

The Civarch made an expression of horror, “What are you doing Kavel? This is reckless!,” he leaned in Kavel’s ear to whisper, “do you not see the danger in inviting Lucians into the Dreamfield?”

“No danger at all,” Kavel said, “I assure you, everything will be under my control. I have a plan that is guaranteed to work. You will no longer have to live your life in fear of the Lucians, and thus always conceding to their wishes.”

As Kavel spoke, the illuminating bubbles appeared and wobbled through the air with their translucent light. He saw a few more Lucians starting to enjoy the scene, which felt like a triumph to Kavel.

Then, Kavel saw a tall, stout, tan Hapsian with a trimmed beard place himself in a more prominent position in the room. From his uniform, Kavel could tell he was the leader of a resistance force. He made a scowl that showed that he did not approve of what was happening around him. Kavel recognized him as Rynar.

If Rynar is here... thought Kavel to himself. He looked around the room and spotted Seralina with a girl who had her long red hair, but a more tan complexion, or at least, it appeared so, as Kavel could not be completely certain about features in the multicoloured light of his environment. It had been years since he had last seen Seralina, and their separation was never fully resolved. They had had an intense and passionate relationship, and before he knew it she was gone. Before he knew it, she was married. Then, again, before he knew it, he was married, planning a family, and then... Kavel restrained the thought. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene with the Lucians. He wanted to convince them that he was beyond past conflicts, and that his invitation to such officials was the extension of a gesture of peace. It was a delicate operation. He made the resistance privy to his plan, but he still feared being seen by local Solvinar inhabitants as a traitor.

He could see Rynar discussing something with another member of the resistance in what appeared to be a disagreement. The other man approached one of the amplification zones of the island. He began his announcement.

“I would like to rectify something the Civarch here has yet to do: As many of you know, our sun was on the brink of Supernova, and it has been through the tireless work of Lassitel Kavel that we have been saved. I have not seen a word from the ministry on this. Therefore I propose a cheer for Lassital Kavel, hero of Solvinar.”

“Hero of Solvinar!” the crowd of Hapsians repeated.

“Hero of Solvan!” he continued.

“The crowd repeated this as well.

“Hero of Hapsia!” shouted the man.

Most of the Hapsians cheered, while Kavel, himself, wished he were far away at this moment. This could not bode well and would shift the weight of such a delicate operation too far in one direction.

Another man approached another amplification zone. “While I appreciate Kavel saving our lives, to what end? As you can see by the presence of the Lucians here, he has been compromised! He will betray our great homeland and we will live like insects for the rest of our existence!”

The first man rebutted, “I do not believe Kavel has betrayed us at all. If anyone can strike a compromise with Lucia, it’s Kavel.”

“Compromise? What compromise? Are you so naïve to believe the Lucians capable of such a thing! Wake up, Byroki. You of all people should know, the Lucians will never stop until our entire culture is erased.”

“And yet we are here. Does this look like a gathering organized by a man who wished to erase culture?”

This discourse led to murmurings from the various disparate groups. Some supported Lucian’s stance against culture and believed Kavel was doing a good thing, while other Lucian supporters were convinced Kavel was playing a trick and should be arrested. Others supported resistance against the Lucians and held the same opinions about Kavel’s intentions. Thus the crowd were divided both on whether they thought a Lucian takeover was a good thing and how they felt about Kavel. The murmurings gave way to arguing, and Kavel knew that soon they would give way to fighting. Before that could happen, Kavel made an announcement:

“We are now initiating the launch. Would everyone who is destined for Dreamfield enter the launch zone now. If you are a relative or a friend of such a person, say your goodbyes now.”

This dispersed the arguing, for the time being, and Kavel heaved a sigh of relief. As he sighed, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“It’s time to say your goodbye, big brother,”

He turned around to see Mereda smiling, “I didn’t know you were going to join the launch. Why would you do this after-- after everything that happened last time?”

“I don’t intend to turn that occurrence into a family tradition, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Mereda gave a nervous titter with her comment, “In my defence, you don’t know anything about me, not lately. I’ve given up on trying to contact you.”

“You’re safer as you are, I assure you. I am an Oderon, as you’d say.”

“I’m surprised you believe in such superstitions brother.”

“It’s not a superstition, though. Stories often convey realities. Some people simply have particular traits that amass more-- for lack of a better term-- some people are cursed, only curses are not what people think they are. If I can assume control, I can overcome this, then, perhaps, we shall be brother and sister again.”

“When will you have assumed enough control for that?”

“When I no longer need to fear the horrible death of anyone who draws close to me.” Kavel looked away from Mereda as he said this. He made it clear in his body language that he no longer wished to speak with her, and made his announcement that it was now time for those in the Dreamfield to leave. He did not watch Mereda make her way out, and thus he did not know the expression on her face. He watched the crowd. The arguing diffused back into a light murmuring. He could tell that everyone was divided regarding him, and while that made him uneasy, he could live with that.

As Kavel watched the crowd settle, while avoiding any glance in his direction from Rynar or Seralina, he felt a hand on his back. He turned around to see the child who had been with Seralina.

“Father says you’re reckless and will destroy the galaxy one day, and that you were lucky. Is that true?”

Kavel looked at this seemingly innocent child with her wide eyes and elfin face. She seemed young to be processing an idea as dense as the destruction of the galaxy.

“I believe your father misunderstands me, child,”

“My name is Nyara.”

“Well, Nyara, you can tell your father that I have planned my schemes as cautiously as possible. Far from being reckless, I implement every level of control possible.”

Nyara bowed her head. “Mother said as much, and father says that’s what makes you reckless.”

Kavel felt uneasy at hearing this. “That being said,” continued Nyara, “Father would greatly like to meet you. Despite the fact that he thinks you’re reckless, he’s aware you’re brilliant. Few people can see what you can see.”

“Does your father wish to meet me now?”

“He’d like it, but when you are at leisure it is a good time. Also, he’s not really my father.”

Kavel felt a chill when she said those words, but assumed she must have been joking, thus calmed down quickly.

“Aren’t you a bit young to understand these matters?”

“How young do you think I am?” said Nyara.

“I don’t know. Twelve perhaps?”

The child laughed. “I’m fifteen!”

The chill returned down Kavel’s back. He thought back to the time that he launched the first Voyager class ship. It was thirteen years ago, when Rynar married Seralina, three years after project Aliph, where he had worked with Seralina. He would have to ask if he was the only one, if not, he knew whose child she was, or whose child she would have been.

“You are wrong,” he said, “perhaps it was not by birth, but Rynar is your father. You even call him such.”

“Mother thinks I should get to know you. She said it would not be easy, that you’re known for shutting everyone out.”

“Perhaps, under a different reality, that would not be the case.”

Nyara put her head down and raised it again. “I would like to know you anyway. By the way, I love these lights. It’s the first time in years that I’ve seen something so amazing!”

“I would not object to you making attempts to do so, I suppose.” Kavel smiled. He walked away immediately.

This was the worst time for anyone to attempt any kind of relationship with him. Why did he respond the way he did? He saw the crowd disperse, the Civarch being the last among them. He looked as if he were about to scold Kavel, but Kavel raced to his ship before the Civarch could do so. Kavel had the next phase of his plan to implement, after all.