Cyril Haddix dodged around a corner, sprinting down a narrow alley as an invisible force blasted into the wall near his head. He flinched as he ran through a cloud of dust and debris from the blast. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the three pursuers: Elite Conglomerate Officers in their white polyethylene armor equipped with waver gauntlets. The officer in the lead reached his gauntlet out to throw another blast at Cyril, it connected this time, and Cyril was knocked to the ground. The pressure from the blast lingered on his back, pushing him into the ground. The officer twisted his gauntlet fingers in the air, and Cyril felt the pressure wrapping around him like a hand. He was lifted into the air, he tried to shout but couldn't open his mouth.
Cyril awoke from the dream with a shout. Despite the cool, dry air and sleeping shirtless, his body was warm, and sweat was dripping from his pale, tattooed skin. It was too early, his eyes felt heavy and swollen, and his throat was dry. This was not going to be a good day. He slid the dimmer on the remote that controlled the apartment lights, gently illuminating the large, single room. Cyril hadn't had a dream since he left his home planet, Deluria Bain, three years ago. The dreams were why he left.
"Well, you look fine to me, kid," the doctor said to Cyril.
"I feel like crap, I've been having dreams every night, and I can barely sleep."
"Everyone has dreams. Here," the doctor handed Cyril a plastic bottle of clear liquid, "drink this and try meditating before going to sleep."
Cyril read the label on the bottle: DISTILLED WATER. "Thanks, doc."
Cyril arrived at the stamping press, where he worked as a stamper. He watched through the small window at his station, waiting for various parcels and envelopes to drop into the stamping zone. A button on his console would light up with the correct stamp to select, then he would push the button and pull the lever, and a conveyor belt would take the stamped delivery away. He tried to use the monotonous, repetitive task as a way to distract himself from the dream, but small details kept popping into his head. His friend, Dael, plopped down at the station beside him.
"Hey man, I miss anything good?" Dael asked out of breath.
"Nah, just the usual." Cyril replied, staring into the window.
"Dang, it's been a while since we got something good."
"Yeah."
"You okay, man? You don't look so good." Dael asked.
"I haven't been sleeping much. I keep having this weird dream."
"Oh man, me too. I've got this one where Sadie, you know that girl that works at the fried fish place, we're laying in bed together and she's just hand-feeding me fried fish, and I keep trying to say something to her, but she just goes'shh shh shh' and stuffs another fish in my mouth. And then I wake up, and I'm chewing on my pillow."
"I hate fish."
"More for me. So what's yours?"
"I'm being chased by these Conglomerate officers in white armor, they're firing waver gauntlets at me, then one of them catches me, and I wake up."
"Dang, that's a bad dream, that sucks, man."
"Yeah, it won't stop. Same exact dream for the past 5 days."
"Wow, I'm sorry, man. I'm sure it will stop eventually, you just gotta figure out what's bugging you."
"I don't think it will stop."
"Why not?"
"The planet I'm from, Deluria Bain, something about the air there gives people dreams of their future. Every single night we would all have dreams that were an exact depiction of what would happen the next day."
"That sounds pretty cool."
"Yeah, you would think, but everything gets so boring when you know how it's all going to happen, and everyone there acts all high and mighty because they know what's going to happen. You'd think people there would be taking risks and having fun if they knew they weren't going to die or fail, but they're dreaming of the future where they've already dreamed of the future, it's all deterministic, so nobody really does anything. I started seeing it as more of a curse than a gift."
"That's... confusing."
"Yeah, I dreamt about the day The Conglomerate came and offered us a new life the night before it happened. And the night before I agreed and went with them, my dream ended as soon as we left the atmosphere. I knew that the dreams would stop and I would get to have a new exciting life where I didn't know every predetermined outcome."
"How long ago was that?"
"3 years."
"And now the dream is back?"
"Yeah."
"Dang."
That night, Cyril considered his doctor's recommendation and tried to meditate before going to sleep. Back on Deluria Bain, meditation was a common practice; they said it helped with being able to recall dreams after waking. Cyril's parents had made him meditate every night before bed, but most of the time he would just pretend, and when he moved out, he stopped the practice all together. It felt weird to be trying again, like tapping into some part of himself that he had been trying to run away from for the past 3 years. But it came back to him naturally. He focused on his breathing, scanned his body, and visualized his thoughts floating by. Soon, he reached a peaceful state and quickly fell asleep.
After falling asleep, he finally had a different dream than the one of being chased, and it was much more like the ones he had had on Deluria Bain. It was the next morning, and he was waking up in his room. He confirmed it was a dream by plugging his nose and trying to breathe through it, his breath flowed freely through his nose despite it being tightly plugged between his fingers, so he knew it was a dream. He went about his day normally, making breakfast, working out, showering, and going to work. On the way to work, a small child asked Cyril for spare change, and he flicked a coin into the small child's hands.
At work, he tried to explain to Dael that he had a dream about this day and everything that would happen.
Dael said, "Okay, then what number am I thinking of?"
"853," Cyril responded.
"Holy moly!" Dael considered the implications for a moment, "Will Sadie say yes if I ask her out today?"
Cyril took out a coin and flipped it to confirm that the outcome was the same as in the dream: heads, then he flipped three more times to be sure: heads, heads, tails. "She will."
"Wait, what, for real?"
"Yeah, if you ask her out today right after work, she'll say yes."
"What do I say to her?"
"If I tell you that, she'll say no."
"Dang, why is my fate so fragile?"
"That's a good thing, Dael, it means she prefers your intuition."
"Wow, that's crazy. I can't wait to finish work now. Tell me the next three stamps I'll get."
"3x9 white envelope triangle stamp, 10x12 brown envelope double circle stamp, pig carcass ohm stamp."
"What's a pig?"
"You'll see."
The rest of the dream continued on and ended with Cyril going back home, making dinner, and going to sleep. He did not meditate this time because he knew he was about to wake up and have to live the dream he just had, and he didn't want to do that two days in a row.
He woke up, and the day played out exactly as it had in the dream, the only difference being that he could not breathe through his nose when he plugged it. The child asked for a coin, he had the same conversation with Dael with the exact same predictions, and when they left, they immediately went to the fried fish place.
"Hey, Sadie," Dael said to her as they walked up.
"Hey Dael, hey Cyril," she responded, "you guys eating here or to go?"
"Uhm, well, actually, I wanted to ask you a question, and I know you're working, so this might not be the best time to ask you, but you can answer honestly and I won't get upset or anything, but anyways, I kind of felt a connection between us the last few times I was here, and I really liked the conversations we were having, and I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go out some time and talk some more, because I really liked talking with you, but I thought if maybe we were somewhere that you weren't getting interrupted by work, we might be able to have some better conversations, and I-"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Yes, Dael, I'd like to go out with you."
Dael turned around and looked at Cyril wide-eyed and mouth-agape.
Cyril smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
Dael couldn't believe it, he was so happy that he insisted on paying for the premium tram for him and Cyril to get back to their apartments. "Here, I insist, this is a great day, we deserve it."
"Okay, okay, fine," said Cyril. They both got on the tram and sat down in the clean, comfortable seats.
"So anything else happen in your dream?"
"Just this conversation, you getting off at your stop, me getting off at mine, I make dinner and go to sleep."
"What about me?"
"I don't know, I can only dream from my point of view."
"So I might die of a heart attack as soon as I'm out of your view, and I'll never get to go out with Sadie."
"That's very unlikely, I wouldn't worry about that."
"What about tomorrow?"
"I don't meditate tonight, so I don't think I'll dream about tomorrow."
"Why not?"
"It's exhausting, this is the second time I've had to have this exact same conversation. I remember every detail of it, and I have no choice but to repeat everything."
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"Why not? Couldn't you just choose to do something different?"
"I've tried, but it doesn't really work. It's like I'm not in the driver's seat. It feels like I'm making decisions and taking actions, but at the same time, I'm just repeating what I've already experienced. I think if I tried to do something differently, then I would have had the dream of me doing it differently, which would mean I wasn't really doing it differently."
"Huh, well, thanks for the help today, I really appreciate it, even if it's a burden on you to dream."
"It's alright, I figured I could at least try to make it a good day that I was dreaming about."
"You're a good friend, Cyril. I hope you don't have any dreams tonight," Dael said as he got off the tram at his stop.
"Thanks, Dael. See you tomorrow, if you don't have a heart attack."
"Hey, don't joke!" Dael said, smiling as the tram doors closed.
Something was flashing red in Cyril's face. Someone behind him shouted. He turned around and saw the three officers in their white armor. "Run," he heard Dael whisper in his ear. He ran through the square, vaulting over tables and benches, ducking behind shop stalls. People ran, debris flew everywhere from invisible blasts. He was in the alley, knocked to the ground, paralyzed, lifted into the air.
He woke up exhausted and sweating. The dream had returned. Why? How was he going to get rid of it?
"The way I see it," Dael said, sitting at his stamping station, "the only way you could make the dream stop is to fulfill it."
"Yeah, I agree, but that's what I'm afraid of," Cyril said. "It would be one thing if it were a dream about me getting a cold or tripping on the floor, but being caught and arrested by elite conglomerate officers is really bad. What would I do that would land me in that kind of trouble?"
"Did you have enough money to pay rent?"
"You see me at work every day, you know I do. Besides, they wouldn't send elite officers after me for that."
"True." They both thought in silence for a moment, then Dael said, "Do you remember anything specific from the dream, like where it took place?"
"It was in a square, but not ours, a different district, or maybe a different stratum."
"Was it one you've been to before?"
"No, it didn't look familiar."
"Hm, that's tough, there are a lot of options, and it would take forever to narrow it down. What if we made a definite plan to visit a different stratum tomorrow, and then tonight you meditated and dreamed about where we go tomorrow? Do you think that would work?"
"I guess it's worth a try."
That night, Cyril reluctantly meditated. He didn't want to go through another dream about a normal, mundane day and then have to relive it again, and he also didn't want to have to deal with whatever was causing the recurring dream. But he couldn't keep running away from it. This is what he was - his curse that he would have to learn to live with. Or maybe after this it would all stop, maybe he could get through this and go back to his normal life afterwards.
The next morning, Cyril met Dael at the tram station.
"So? Did it work? What did you dream about?" Dael asked.
"You're not going to believe it." Cyril responded.
"What? Tell me!"
"No, I leave it a surprise."
"Dang."
"Come on, we have to catch this tram."
They rode the tram for 40 minutes until it reached the end of the line, then took a lift down to the adjacent stratum and another tram for 20 minutes until they reached the district square that Cyril had dreamed about.
"Couldn't you have dreamed about somewhere closer?" Dael complained as they stepped off of the tram, holding his lower back in discomfort.
"Come on, I'll show you where we're going," Cyril said, walking to the railing at the edge of the platform. From this height, they could see across the entire square. "There," Cyril said, pointing at an open courtyard at the center of the square, "that's where we're going."
"That's so far. Can we get something to eat on the way?"
"Yeah, there's a really good restaurant on the way, we have plenty of time to stop there."
They descended the platform into the square and squeezed their way through the crowds. Dael was distracted by all of the bright signs and advertisements, and Cyril had to keep pulling him along. They arrived at the restaurant: a chrome building covered in blue and purple neon lights. The sign read "Dabchick's Diner". They sat at a booth and ordered lunch.
"So you're still not going to tell me what happens?" Dael asked.
"Your order of fish and chips comes, and despite you cleaning the plate in under 10 minutes, you tell me it isn't as good as the place Sadie works."
"No, I mean about you being chased by the officers."
"You really want me to spoil the surprise?"
"Well, at least tell me if anything bad happens to me. Do I need to be worried? Should I do anything when it happens?"
"No, you'll be fine, just stay calm and don't follow me when I get chased."
"You seem pretty calm."
"Yeah, I mean, it isn't fun what's about to happen, but I don't really have any choice."
"Don't you? Couldn't we just leave right now and go back home?"
"If we did, then the dreams wouldn't stop, I'd keep waking up in the middle of the night sweating, and I feel like I'd eventually go crazy from the lack of sleep."
"Yeah," Dael thought for a moment, "it's just weird that no matter what I say or do right now, you already know what it is. I could stand up on the table and start singing an original song that I came up with on the spot, and you'd already know all the lyrics."
"I know. I'm sorry you had to be stuck with such a weird friend."
"No, it's fine, it's interesting to think about. I never really thought about stuff like this before. I've seen a lot of weird stuff happen throughout my life here, but I've never been friends with someone who was planet-born, and I've never really considered this kind of deep stuff before. I've spent my entire life in the conglomerate, and I guess something about planet-born people made me think that I would never have anything in common with them, let alone be best friends with one."
A waitress interrupted, "Fish and chips? chicken salad?" and set the plates down in front of them.
As they were leaving, Cyril asked Dael, "Are you ready for dessert?"
"You know I am."
"How do milkshakes sound?"
"Oh, perfect."
They walked to the courtyard, it was a large open area in the center of the square with tiers of shallow steps leading down to an area with benches, chairs, and tables. Around the edge, at the top of the steps, were various small vending stalls selling all types of wares. Cyril led Dael to the snack stall that sold desserts. It was brightly colored with pastel blue and pink clouds, and the sign over the top said "Reckless Rainbow" in brightly colored balloon letters. Dael ordered a double chocolate shake, and Cyril ordered a mango cream shake.
"I'll pay for this." Cyril said as the employee passed the shakes through the window.
"You sure?" Dael asked.
"Yeah, I owe you for helping me out with this," Cyril responded as he pressed his finger onto the payment pad. The pad beeped. Cyril lifted his finger off of the pad and took a sip of his shake, then the pad made an error noise and started flashing red.
The employee said, "Sorry, can you press your finger again? It looks like there was an error."
The pad was flashing red in Cyril's face, and someone behind him shouted, "Stop right there."
Cyril turned around and saw the three elite conglomerate officers pointing their gauntlets at him. On the forearm of each gauntlet was a small, domed window with a white sphere inside. Each sphere was perfectly matte, but somehow Cyril got the impression that they were spinning.
"Run," Dael whispered, and it all played out the exact way it had in all of those dreams. Each step that he took landed precisely where he remembered, and as he leapt over the tables and benches, the shockwave through his shins and thighs felt identical. He had heard the screams of the crowd and seen each particle of debris so many times before, and now he was finally experiencing it all for the last time. He began to cry as the realization sat in.
The officer lifted Cyril into the air with an invisible force and turned him around to face the officers. "Coral Hammock, you're under arrest for suspicion of committing arson."
"That's not my name," Cyril responded.
"Are you serious? Did you break another scanner, McDonald?" said one of the officers to the one holding Cyril in the air.
"Shut up, McKenzie, this is our guy," officer McDonald responded.
"Oh, you are in for it this time, McDonald," the third officer said.
"Okay, you scan him, then, McIntyre," said McDonald.
Officer McIntyre pulled out his scanner and waved it over Cyril, who was still hanging in the air. The scanner beeped. "You are so dead, McDonald," said McIntyre.
"Fuck," said McDonald, releasing his hold on Cyril, who fell to the ground. "I guess you're free to go, whoever you are."
Dael let out a hearty laugh that turned into wheezing. "Oh man, you should have seen those guys, everyone in the square was staring at them when they came out of that alley, they looked so dumb."
"Aren't you glad I didn't spoil it for you?"
"Yeah, man," Dael wiped tears from his bright red face, "that was so good."
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I met Cyril about a year after all of this happened. At that point, he had come to terms with his dreams of foresight and decided to become a fortune teller of sorts, helping people with all of life's little problems. Dael was helping out Cyril by working as his publicist, picking clients that he felt were worthy of a little magic in their lives, and last I heard, he and Sadie were engaged to get married.
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Note: I have altered your perception of any foods or animals mentioned in this story so that they match the closest equivalent that you are familiar with. If you are unfamiliar with any of the foods or animals mentioned in this story, please run outside while flailing your arms and shouting "I hunger, I hunger, feed me mother, feed me father, satiate this famished child!" and a technician will arrive in 3-5 business eternities to fix the problem.