Nightmare by Steven Harper Page B

He spread his arms to the wind, let it blow over him. This place was solid. This place was real. This place was—
    Child.
      He had never heard human voices in this place. These should have startled him. But he felt no fear. He turned calmly. Half a dozen people, men and women, stood beside him. They were as naked as he was, their dark hair bleached brown by the sun.
      "Hello," he said.
    Our time here is short, they said, and their mouths didn’t move when they spoke. The words appeared in his head and in his heart. And there are things you must know.
      "What are they?" he asked.
      A collective sense of shaking heads came over him. You must learn them on your own. We can only send you in the direction.
      "What direction is that?"
    The one within you. Follow your own self. The mutants are forcing your body down a path strewn with death and pain, but your mind remains your own. Draw strength from us. We are the Real People, and you are part of us. The mutants can take that from you only if you let them.
      And they were gone. No track or broken blade of scrubby grass showed they had ever been there. The hot, cleansing breeze continued to blow, and the falcon called again. He turned to look up at the sky and saw a white canopy.

      Lizard awoke, muddled and confused. He was in the wrong place. There should have been a hot wind, sandy soil. Or a lumpy pallet and frog calls? Either way, it was wrong. Everything was soft and white, and the light was dim. He heard a strange bubbling noise. Then Lizard remembered where he was and sat up. Pup’s place in the bed was empty, and the bubbling sound was coming from the bathroom. Lizard got up and stretched. Thin streaks of sunlight striped the floor around the curtains, leaving the room dim. Cool air drifted from one of the vents, and the carpet was soft on Lizard’s bare feet. He pulled on a pair of shorts, knocked once on the bathroom door, and pushed it open. Pup was sitting up to his neck in the whirlpool bath, which bubbled with white water. The room was heavy with steam.
      "This is great!" Pup said. "You have to try it! Lots of room—come on in."
      "Not the shower?" Lizard asked. For the first time in his life, he realized—truly realized—that Pup was naked in the bath. Memories from last night stirred, and Lizard found himself drawing back with uncertainty. Pup gave no sign that he remembered the previous night, but still . . .
      "Already tried that, too," Pup grinned, and he was beautiful. Lizard swallowed. "You coming in or what?"
      "I’ll wait until you’re done," Lizard said, and splashed a handful of warm water at Pup’s head to cover his consternation. Pup retaliated with a great gout that soaked Lizard from chin to waist. Laughing, he wiped his face on his arm. "Now I don’t need a shower or a bath."
      A few moments later, they had both finished washing up—Lizard opted for the shower—and had gotten dressed. Lizard actually had to dress twice because Pup found outside the bedroom door another set of clothes in Lizard’s size. These were a long tunic and trousers in a pale yellow, with sandals similar to the type the managers wore. Pup watched him put them on in awe.
      "Y’see?" he breathed. "Light yellow, and the managers wear dark yellow. You’re almost at the same level they are."
      "I guess," said Lizard. He held out the wrist with the metal band still encircling it. "But only almost."
      "You think they’d assign you a body slave to, you know, lay out your clothes and stuff?" Pup asked tentatively. "Even someone who was a ...a mucker?"
      His eyes were so wide and his voice so hesitant, Lizard felt his throat thicken. His best friend thought it would be a privilege to wait on him? In a fit of emotion, he grabbed Pup in a rough hug. Pup didn’t immediately return the gesture and Lizard felt him stiffen for a moment before hugging clumsily back. Lizard let go.
      "Sorry," he mumbled.
      "It’s okay," Pup said in the same