Dimension Of Dreams

All during Narlena's account Erlik nodded his head slowly, the uncertainty and nervousness now almost gone from his face. It was also gone from his voice when he spoke.

«Blade,» he said. «I do not really know who you are or what you are. If this were a thousand years ago, I would call you a god come down from the High Houses and taking the shape of a man. You say you are from another world»

«Dimension.»

«Dimension, then. The scholars have said that such exist. But the scholars spent much of their time talking about what only they believed existed, even when Pura was crumbling about their ears. So I do not know if what you say even can be true. But you certainly have shown that you know much that we must relearn if Pura is to be saved. You have taught them to Narlena. Can you teach them to me?» There was almost a yearning note in his voice.

Blade nodded. Erlik might not be willing to admit that Pura could be saved. Pessimism had been instilled too deeply in him by a hundred years of failure. But he was at least willing to learn new things in the hope that they might help save his city. For the moment Blade would be quite happy with that.

Chapter Nine

Erlik was Blade's first recruit after Narlena, but he was far from the last. Blade made rapid progress in the next few weeks and part of the reason for that was Erlik himself. The Puran had no more aptitude for fighting than most of his compatriots, but he was willing enough to learn. After he got himself in condition, he was strong, fast, and skilled enough so that he could defend himself from many of the Wakers and guard Blade's back during their night patrols in search of more Dreamers. The average Waker was not a very good fighter. Nor was there any reason why he should be. The Dreamers were usually helpless prey and too scared even to run the way Erlik had. Because the Wakers were always fighting among themselves, the Dreamers could often get away with their bungling and bumbling. Blade began to be a good deal more optimistic about the chances of a Dreamer fighting force against the Wakers.

In the meantime he and Erlik had the satisfaction of leaving one or two or even half a dozen Wakers dead each time they prowled through the dark streets of Pura. Although Erlik was a small, thin man, barely taller and heavier than Narlena, he seemed to expand and grow taller and stronger each time he stood over a dead Waker that he had killed.

But Erlik's greatest value to Blade was not his sword arm but his tongue and his quick brain. Both were more nimble than his sword arm would ever be if he lived a thousand years. Erlik did not preach Blade's views on the salvation of Pura with the fervor of a totally new convert. He wasn't one and couldn't have pretended to be one to save his life. That kind of honesty made Blade respect him even more. He held on to much of his skepticism and pessimism even while watching their strength grow and more and more Wakers fall dying in the streets.

His honest skepticism was the great secret of Erlik's success. The average Dreamer had been resigned to wait passively in his vault for Pura to collapse entirely about his ears or for the Waker gangs to eat each other up. He would have called anybody who went around joyfully promising the sure salvation of Pura a madman and would have ignored him completely. This was particularly true when the prophet was a man who said he was from another world, where all the people were Wakers. But the same average Dreamer was willing to listen to a fellow Dreamer talk about Blade's plans in tones of, «Well, I'm not sure myself that we can do any miracles. But let's give it a try. We can't be any worse off than we will be if we don't do anything at all. And we can at least kill off a lot of Wakers.» That made a lot of people sit up and take notice and eventually join up. And the trail of dead Wakers Blade and Erlik left behind them was another convincing part of the argument.

In any case the Dreamers kept coming in. For good reasons, bad reasons, or no reason at all except that they wanted a little real-life excitement and feeling. Before a week was out, there were too many to be accommodated in Narlena's vault. Blade had to appoint some of the promising ones as subcommanders and have them each lead a group out to their own vaults.

Before two weeks had gone by, Blade had nearly sixty men and women scattered in half a dozen vaults on the south side of Pura. He and Erlik had trained a dozen men and three women in fighting of a sort, and Blade had gathered enough weapons from dead Wakers to arm twice as many.

The most welcome discovery among the recruits was a big barrel-chested man with a broken nose and a long scar across his left arm and shoulder. This man was named Yekran, and he was a former captain in the security troops. He not only knew how to fight; he actively enjoyed it. And he threw himself into training his fellow Dreamers with an enthusiasm that surprised and delighted Blade. Perhaps part of Yekran's enthusiasm came from guilt over his retreat to his vault. After all, he had been an officer in the force intended to protect Pura, yet he had run away like any ordinary citizen and let things fall apart. But Blade did not really care much. Yekran was doing the work of three men within days after joining up. And killing Wakers was such a delight to him that within a week he had killed nearly as many as Blade had.

As the nights became slowly but definitely shorter, the hours for prowling the streets, rescuing Dreamers, and killing Wakers became fewer. Instead, Blade stepped up his training. Often he led as many as half the fighters from the different vaults on long trips deep into the city. They explored the ruins, noted buildings that might be rebuilt or at least defended, and got used to moving and working by day. Gradually the Dreamers' morbid fears of daylight vanished, and their reason took over, telling them what Blade had been saying from the begi

But Blade was still worried about that one Waker gang that had been trained to a polished weapon by their unknown leader. Blade had no doubt that they would adapt with deadly speed to fighting by day if they ever felt they had to. Before that day came, Blade knew he had to have his Dreamer fighters so numerous and well-trained that they could stand off even the best of the Wakers. Perhaps they could even take the offensive and force a pitched battle at a time and place of their own choosing. With the advantage of surprise the Dreamers might break the back of their most dangerous opponent.

But who were these people, and who under the heavens of every conceivable and inconceivable dimension was their leader? Yekran had no idea. Several of the recruits recognized Blade's description of the Waker gang that fought in well-coordinated pairs, but none of them could give him the faintest clue about where it came from or who led it. One thing stood out; the other Waker gangs seemed to have limited territories, but the trained one roamed freely all over the city.

Blade was not surprised. Such a gang would be able to march through the territories of other gangs and raid where it wanted to as easily as a fox prowling through a nest of field mice. And things would be just as one-sided if the gang came up against his Dreamers before he, Yekran, and Erlik had the chance to put several more months into recruiting and training. When he thought of that possibility, a cold sweat broke out all over him. He would pace up and down the vault like a caged animal, face working in frustration at the small amount of time he had to do so much. Then Narlena would come to him and caress him until he was calmer outside if not inside.