Dream Tracker - Starseeds Two

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The market was dusty; the heat, stifling. I shouldn’t have been able to feel the temperature, shouldn’t have been victim to things like weather or injury, but the mind is a stubborn ruler. Expectation delivers reality. Mine filled in the information for me, even here in the astral realm.

Despite the fact that I was out of my physical body and had no skin, not really, I could feel beads of sweat gathering on my forehead, the hair against my nape damp and cloying. I blew a strand of hair out of my face, the action silly, really, because here I had no breath, but it made me feel better. Like I was doing something constructive. Shouts echoed against the stone walls of the bazaar and I leaned against the table behind me, watching a young man run by, pursued by a heavy-set woman and two small yapping dogs.

It wasn’t the first time. He’d run by three times since I arrived. The woman tackled him about thirty feet past me, smashing his head against the ground, knocking him out. In about five seconds she’d shout triumphantly, holding two figs high in the air. She’d dust herself off, walk back to her stall. And the man would lay there, slowly bleeding out. Dying quietly, fading away unnoticed for the moment, until eventually the scene would reset itself and he’d run by again.

I can’t travel through time, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wasn’t even here, not really.

My body was at home, in bed, sleeping. Probably turning numb under the hot and heavy weight of my Husky-Samoyed mutt, Keeta.

I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t dreaming, either. Not that night, anyway. I was traveling, doing some astral night work, rescuing poor lost souls from the dreamtime. The astral realm isn’t just a place new age flunkies like visiting when they meditate – it’s the stuff purgatory is made of, the dimension all souls pass through on their way into the light, sometimes getting lost.

That’s where I come in. I’m a dream tracker, a soul finder, and like my grandfather before me, I lead the lost into the light.

It’s not bad work, not usually. Maybe not as fun as my regular job playing drums in a rock band, but at least I feel like I’m finally putting my college degree in social work to good use.

Of course, I don’t usually get stuck in a time loop in a scorching hot Middle Eastern bazaar watching some wanna-be Aladdin die over and over again. The shouts had started up again, and I pushed away from the table. I’d had enough of this.

Aladdin was getting close, grinning as he ran. Obviously, this wasn’t new territory for him. I stepped into his path, ready to stop him with a smile, when I felt a hand on my arm.

This time, it didn’t feel the way you would expect. Familiar energy tingled through my not-skin, radiating along bones that weren’t really there. I turned, letting Aladdin pass by yet again, and faced the person I knew I would see.

“Grandpa, hi!” I leaned forward and hugged him. “How is Tokyo? I haven’t seen you in days.”

“I know, jet lag hits harder every year, it seems. I’m still getting adjusted to the time change, and I’m heading home tomorrow. That’s why I’m here, actually, I figured I would take a quick nap and try to track you down, catch up.”

“That’s great news. Want me to pick you up at the airport?”

“Don’t bother. You know what the traffic around LAX is like. I’ve already arranged a car service to take me home.”

“Fine, but then I want to see you for family brunch at Kate’s the day after tomorrow. Can you make it?”

“If I’m not dead abed, of course, I’ll come. I managed to check out that Harajuku district you wanted me to see in between meetings, and I bought you something.”

“You did? What is it?” Excitement colored my question. Even though I traveled far and wide in my dreams, I’d never been out of the United States physically.

“It’s a surprise. Now, you stay here, while I help you collect this young man.”

My grandfather was the pied piper of lost souls. One look, one touch, and they gave up whatever they were reliving and followed him. Me? I usually had to spend a few minutes doing the social worker thing: help them work through whatever was holding them back from crossing over, convince them going into the light was the best thing for them. Slower than my grandfather, who could collect a hundred souls in an hour or two before shuttling them past the astral plane and into the pure realm of spirit, but a lot faster than most other astral travelers and dream trackers.

“Who am I to argue with the master?” I laughed, and leaned back against the table to watch. Sometimes, it was hard to believe I hadn’t been doing this all my life. That I hadn’t grown up as a totally regular, completely powerless orphan in the foster system of Los Angeles. It had only been two months since a lunar eclipse had awakened my dormant psychic powers by triggering ancient alien DNA that I hadn’t known I carried. My awakening had led me into a new reality I’d never imagined existed, a family I had never known. Of all the starseeds I had met, my grandfather was my favorite.

I smiled, watching fondly as he leaned over the unconscious young man, barely more than a boy, really, when the market went dark and I fell backward, coming awake with a visceral slam back into my body. A light touch trailed along my bare shoulder, tickling my senses.

This touch, too, was familiar. Wanted, and unwanted. The first, because this touch always set off a wave of yearning and comfort in my body. The latter, because I wasn’t ready. Not to leave the dreamtime, and not for him.

“Ethan,” I groaned, opening my eyes and stretching. “What are you doing here? I know I didn’t give you a key.”

“Who needs a key?” he grinned, teeth flashing in the room. His eyes were dark, too dark to see in the shadowed room, but the coppery highlights of his hair glittered in the twilight.

“You know it’s supremely creepy to astral travel into a girl’s room uninvited, right?”

He shrugged, something I felt more than saw.

“I’ve missed you.”

“When are you coming back?” I asked, choosing to ignore his statement.

“I don’t know. We’re still tailing Meehan and his new buddies. We can tell he’s up to something, but we haven’t been able to get any direct intel.”

I frowned. Toby Meehan had fallen in with a particularly nasty group of warpers, rogue starseeds who used their abilities not just to control others and get what they wanted, but to kill, too. Ethan had been in Washington, DC following the rogue starseed for a few weeks now, and had nothing to show for it. Tailing them was dangerous, but it had to be done. People like Ethan and I worked behind the scenes with an organization called the Gregors to make sure starseeds didn’t get out of control. Sometimes, the temptation to grab power, abuse our abilities and act like tyrants, like gods, was just too appealing.

It had happened before, when our ancestors first came to Earth. Ancient legends around the planet still held grains of truth from the story. Star walkers, beings known as the Nommo, had come here with greater mental abilities and technologies than our own, intermarried with humans and passed on their own special powers. Some star children were aligned with the energy of the sun. These enhanced starseeds had the powers of telekinesis, mind control through speech, and could create illusions or glamours that would fool the keenest eyes. Others aligned with the energy of the moon, gaining the power of telepathy and astral travel. As my grandfather tells it, some of the starseeds abused their new powers, went wild with greed and madness. They chose to use their powers to warp the minds and realities of others, and in the process, became twisted versions of their former selves. The Nommo called them warpers. A great war ensued among men, the Nommo and the new breed of star children. Finally, a sort of truce was agreed upon. The Nommo left and their children were forced to hide, forced to get their powers under control or be wiped out.

The Gregors started as a small band of sympathetic humans intent on keeping the starseeds protected and under control. For thousands of years, they’d monitored our every move while they recorded family bloodlines and abilities. Eventually, the watchers evolved into a guiding council of sorts, run democratically by the oldest families – both watchers and starseeds. Fiscally, it operated in a lot of ways as a trust. Today, Gregory Bank was well-known as a huge multi-national investment firm, controlling billions of dollars in mortgages, stocks and bonds. It had a reputation for actually caring about its customers, although what it cared about most was keeping track of starseed populations. Most of the people who worked the branches were starseeds. If you wanted to fight the warpers or teach new starseeds, the Gregors had a job for you in one of their facilities. If you needed a place to live, didn’t know how to control your powers or just needed some friends to talk to, the Gregors were there to help you. And if you wanted no part of any of it, they were happy to give you a job at the bank.

Gregory Banks were everywhere and it was the perfect cover. No one questioned the presence of the buildings they had in every city. Some served as normal offices, but others performed duties as headquarters with safe houses, training dojos, and research facilities. Conspiracy theorists liked to talk about shadow governments, but they had no idea. The Gregors were a nation unto themselves, holding treaties with every major government on the planet. Everyone was willing to work with the Gregors, because they were the first line of defense against a war with the warpers, a war where regular humans would be a severe disadvantage.

Toby and twisted pals had fallen for the lure of power, and fallen hard. We knew they were planning something big, something bad for everyone – not just for starseeds, but for the whole world. We just weren’t quite sure what. Two months ago they’d killed a top US General, John Kipner who’d been working with the starseeds in LA to uncover a plot within the Navy to create super-soldiers using starseed DNA. We’d shut that program down, but we knew there was more to their plan.

“Are they on to you?”

He snorted. “Not a chance. Tag and I know what we’re doing, don’t worry.”

I didn’t doubt it. Both men were well trained, ex-Army police. “Okay, then why are you here?”

“I told you, I missed you.” He trailed a hand along my arm again, and again, that familiar stirring tingles along my spine. He’d been romancing me practically since the moment we’d met, and we’d had a couple nights of fun before he left. Still, that didn’t mean Ethan could just stroll into my room whenever he felt like it. I knew I’d been clear – I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I wasn’t ready for him. Even if my body said differently. Even if my blood sang to his like home.

We were just friends, benefits notwithstanding. So what if he had enough control over his astral body to affect mine, here, right now, in the physical?

“You can’t just come in here like this, I mean it, Ethan. I was in the middle of something with Joe. He was helping me release a soul to the light.”

“I’m sure he can handle it.”

As if to prove him right, the phone rang. My grandfather’s ringtone played, letting me know he’d finished and returned from the dreamtime.

“That’s Joe. Beat it, Ethan.”

He looked reluctant, like there was more he wanted to say, but I only had an instant to wait before he winked out of sight.

I lunged for the phone before it could go to voicemail and answered.

“Hello?”