Dreamtime

“Well, kid,” Aarkr said, stretching, “I think I’m gonna take a nap. Let me know when we’re halfway to Kragnos.”
Kale nodded and continued to stare out into the vastness of hyperspace.
Aarkr shook his head as he closed the hatch and climbed onto his cot. Didn’t the kid know that doing that could drive you mad? He shrugged and curled up on to the cot, trying to think about what he was going to say to the travelers when they got to Kragnos.

Aarkr awoke in a space. Not space−there were no stars, no planets, nothing to tell him that he was anywhere…except a large triangular door that moaned shut behind him. He gazed with what could only be described as dreadful wonder at the nothing before him. He sensed that he was indeed in a sort of room, with walls and floors blacker than the night and more solid than the ground. In what appeared to be the middle of the space was a table, crescent-like in shape, with a chair on either side. The far one was occupied by a man, but he faced away from Aarkr, staring into the blackness. Aarkr took a hesitant step forward and immediately found himself standing next to the table.
Hello, Aarkr, the man said, his voice resonant yet soothing.
Hello, Oldtimer. Aarkr heard himself say the words, but he was certain that his lips had not moved.
Oh, don’t worry, my friend, the man said, chuckling. Spoken words are unnecessary here. Thoughts are quite adequate.
Aarkr nodded. Okay.
The Oldtimer gestured to the other chair, still not looking at him. Sit.
Aarkr sat. Who are you?
I am the Oldtimer, as you already know. This is what is called Dreamtime in your tongue. It is a dimension quite different from yours.
Dimension? Aarkr thought. Dreamtime? Then this isn’t…isn’t…
Oh, it is quite real, as am I. More real than reality. Yours, anyway. The Oldtimer stood and faced the inky no-wall. I have lived here for years beyond years, and yet for less than the smallest fraction of a second.
What do you mean?
Aarkr could tell by the tone of his thoughts that the Oldtimer was smiling. Reality is only reality for a shred of time, Aarkr. After that, it moves on to a new reality. Consider then, how many realities you have experienced.
Aarkr found himself believing that this must be true, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the reality of, well, realities.
You need not understand to believe, my friend, the Oldtimer thought, still smiling.
Aarkr nodded. So…this is real?
It is reality. Whether it is real is up to you. You would consider this to be a dream or a vision, fleeting, transitory. For me, though, it is my home, my life, permanent and mundane. It is a reality for both of us, but real only for me.
Aarkr still didn’t understand, but he decided to let the matter rest. Why am I here?
To teach. To be taught. To be advised. To advise.
What will I learn?
To accept that reality is never constant, that the future is always in motion.
I believe.
I know. You, however, will come upon a choice, an extremely important choice. In fact, it could determine whether billions live or die. It could affect your galaxy and mine, and many others besides.
Aarkr’s brow furrowed. What is this choice?
The Oldtimer shrugged. Aarkr, I am merely a messenger. I am a vessel. I know not what choices will confront you, nor what your choice will ultimately be. Know, though, that it could affect the lives of many, for good or ill.
I can’t believe that you would know nothing about it.
It is true. Any effort on my part to ascertain the truth would be for naught. You, though, can discover it.
How?
When you find it.
How will I know that I’ve found it?
The Oldtimer shrugged again. You will know.
Aarkr became angry. How can I prepare for a choice of that magnitude if I don’t know what the situation will be?
Aarkr, every choice you make and have made has and will affect many. It affects one or two, who then make choices that perhaps are grounded in a decision you have made; they affect others; these others affect still others, and so on and so on. Every decision ever made is infinitely important, is crucial to the development of the galaxy as a whole. I do not know how you will recognize the situation, but I do know that you will.
Aarkr slumped, somewhat mollified.
The Oldtimer continued. Your destiny is your own. The One to whom I answer knows all possible outcomes, but you decide your destiny by the choices you make. For instance, he said, rounding the edge of the table, I believe you will not make it out of this room alive! He finally turned and bore all of his million teeth in a terrible rictus grin, lunging at Aarkr, snapping and bearing down on him.
For the first time since he had arrived in Dreamtime, Aarkr spoke. “Yes, I will!” he shouted, and the words echoed, boomed, resonated, flung the Oldtimer away from and him and into the far no-wall, seemingly kilometers away and yet too close. Aarkr hopped to his feet, prepared to fight. The Oldtimer chuckled, his face now that of an indiscriminate Human male.
No need for fisticuffs, my friend, he thought in Aarkr’s direction. The door is open for you.
Aarkr turned to find the triangular door approaching as the no-walls closed in, shortening and flattening the no-room. The door swung open soundlessly, now at the size of a small Human. Aarkr turned back to the Oldtimer, now a meter away.
Why?
Because you chose to leave. Your choice determined your fate now, and your choices will continue to shape your destiny until it is fulfilled. He put a hand on Aarkr’s shoulder and led him through the doorway.
Aarkr stopped, hand on the doorframe. What is my destiny?
The Oldtimer smiled. Only you can know.
With this, the door swung shut and Aarkr awoke.

Kale shook Aarkr again and the smuggler looked up at him. “What?”
Kale sighed. “We’re five minutes away from Kragnos.”
Aarkr sat up. “I thought I told you to wake me up when we were halfway there.”
“Hey, I tried, man. You’re a heavy sleeper.”
Aarkr rubbed his head, trying to remember why he had slept so long. Not usually. “Yeah, I guess so. Well, better get ready, huh?” He stood up and followed Kale to the cockpit.

©August 2011, Josh Scheibe