Le Rêveur dans la Citadelle
(The Dreamer in the Citadel)
Esther Rochon
(Excerpt: p. 56-62)
Shortly before the future Dreamer arrived in Frulken, Ftar was informed about the circumstances under which his services would be provided. In a way, that didn't surprise him. He never seriously considered resigning, agreeing instead to work under those conditions. With no real hope of success, he resolved to express, through his contacts with the Dreamer and with the people of the Citadel, his opposition to the world he had lived in, whether in Irquiz or in Frulken. He decided to perform his task as carefully as possible, to try to discover meanings that those who had entrusted him with it had never imagined. Distressed by the death of Shaskath's wife, he realized that he had nothing to lose, that the personal advantages that had previously induced him to seek only to satisfy the government of Irquiz were simply ridiculous, and he did not really want them. This realization gave him a perspective on himself that was new to him, since he was used to seeing himself as stingy, prone to fits of impotent rage and a little ridiculous. Suddenly, in sadness, he would discover his own magnanimity.
He went to see Shaskath the day he arrived at the Citadel. A lump in his throat, he opened the door of the room he had himself chosen as lodging. Guards went with him, curious. Since Shaskath had lost his freedom, he had been forced to take strong doses of farn. This had dulled his wits, but had facilitated his journey from Drahal to Frulken. The room Ftar entered was beginning to take on a smell of farn.
"The drug must be kept in a closed container," he stated for the benefit of the guards in charge of Shaskath. "We're suffocating in here, and the heat! You should heat a little less," he added, opening the window.
Nervously, he then turned towards Shaskath, who was lying on the bed and seemed to be asleep. He tried to detect in him the strength he lacked himself, the strength he would need to overcome Skern and his power. He observed him for a long time, noting the wilful, concentrated expression on his triangular face, framed by his black hair and bushy beard. Broad, bony hands emerged from his dark coat, which no doubt indicated his status as a paradrouïm. Suddenly Shaskath's eyes opened and he abruptly sat up, then remained still, close to the wall, which he stared at as if he could see through it.
"He already looks like a Dreamer," thought Ftar, fascinated.
Shaskath seemed to be concentrating on some problem accessible only to himself, the key to which he was going to find any second now. A smile lit up his face. He spoke a few incomprehensible words.
"What's he saying?" asked Ftar.
"He's a wizard," whispered one of the guards. "He's commanding the winds, the clouds..."
Ftar nodded. That such a being could command the clouds seemed possible.
He was brought back from his reflections by a young man who had just come in.
"You're Ftar?" he asked.
"That's me."
"My name is Ser Kléndies. It seems you need someone to interrogate the Dreamer. I've been appointed to this position. I found out this morning."
Ftar looked at him.
"You know what your task consists of?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, let's sit down and talk about it."
With a glance, Ser Kléndies indicated the paradrouïm, who was still looking at the wall smiling.
"Here?" he asked.
"Why not? You're really going to have to get used to each other."
"Indeed," Ser Kléndies conceded, as he sat down. "They explained to me what the Dreamer would be, but I didn't understand why it was necessary to have special training in order to be able to ask him questions."
"Do you like the technical presentations? Here goes: in point of fact, the training is not essential. Anyone can ask the Dreamer for information and receive an answer. But that answer will not necessarily be appropriate. Errors can creep in, whether in the interpretation the Dreamer gives the question, or in the interpretation the questioner makes of the answer given. The Dreamer is deep in his dream. He is not seeking to analyze the motivations for asking a certain question and he answers automatically. To save time and avoid ambiguities, you must express yourself precisely. That will be your task."
"I see. And when should I begin?"
"In two or three months, probably."
"Why not right away?"
"Because it's impossible. The future Dreamer is not ready. He is not yet listening to what is said to him. He has to be given time to get used to the drug. One day, in a few months, he will be, so to speak, saturated with dreams; he will want to establish more sustained contact with the world around him; he will wake up. Then we will be able to talk to him quite normally and explain to him what we expect of him. The training can then begin. You will have very few things to learn, compared to the number of varied, complex techniques the Dreamer will have to master."
"And if he refuses?" Ser Kléndies asks after a silent pause.
"It will be in his interest to agree. His only passion will be the dream. He will be taught how to better manipulate that dream, how to better take pleasure in it; why would he refuse? The farn will steer his dreams towards a greater and greater objectivity, the Dreamer will desire having visions of real things, and I will tell him how to achieve that."
"He will be able to see everywhere? Read over people's shoulders? Go into bedrooms? He's a public menace!"
"No, you shouldn't worry about it. His precise vision will be limited to objects of substantial dimensions: ships, houses, clouds. He will no doubt also be able to perceive without error objects of more limited sizes, but which are always in the same place: the stones in a wall, the branches of a tree. He will not be able to, for example, read from here a message written for him in Irquiz, or else say where such and such a person is."
"That way he can't be used for espionage, or simply to get news quickly from the four corners of the world."
"No, unless its news like the eruption of a volcano or the construction of a palace, events involving major changes in the appearance of certain places."
"Things like that don't happen every day. All in all, your Dreamer is of rather limited consequence."
Ftar sighed and answered:
"This is precisely the comment that the leaders of Irquiz made to each other when they decided to suspend the training of the Dreamers. But here, in Vrénalik, the situation is different: you are a nation of merchants, possessing a large fleet. The Dreamer will be able to tell you where each of your ships is, or if a storm is brewing in a certain sector of the ocean. In addition, your prospective Dreamer is already a wizard, who specializes, it would seem, in the manipulation of the winds. Who knows how he will learn to use the drug farn?"
Ser Kléndies nodded.
"It's true, though," he exclaimed, "I hadn't noticed it: Strénid chose a paradrouïm! He's really incredibly daring! I'll be working with a paradrouïm! When I tell that to my wife..."
"What's so astonishing about that?"
"It's because paradrouïms don't work. At least that's what the government people try to get us to believe. Those concerned object to this propaganda: "paradrouïm" is an old Asven word that means witness. A witness is someone who watches, who doesn't work. Until this morning, I was an employee of the harbour bureau. The paradrouïms often go there. Sometimes one of them would look up at my window while I was adding up columns of numbers and start laughing."
"Did you talk to them?"
"Never. They're not people like us. There was one who tried to get a job with us last year. We turned him down. Manipulate the winds, really..."
"Do you think it's possible?"
"If Strénid believes it... But look at this guy," says Ser Kléndies pointing at Shaskath. "He's the same age as me and he's interested in stuff like that. What a strange mind!"© 1998 Éditions Alire & Esther Rochon
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