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"But everything's changed," I argued.
"Not for you and Mimi, it would seem."
Which would mean Mimi and I were destined to get to know each other so well that when we made love, and we would make love repeatedly, we knew exactly what the other wanted, what they desired most in their lover. My dreams of Mouse were sublime in their beauty. They fed the hunger inside me. They fuelled the need. They filled me up in ways I never thought I could feel and made me so complete. My dreams of Mimi were what got me through Rafe's and my extended stay in the destroyed alternate universe. They kept me company when I'd been under house arrest. They guided me home when I was lost. They meant everything to me.
And they would come true, according to Clive Crawford.
"How many different dreams of Carolyn Wylde have you had?" I asked, to get my mind off Dream Mimi.
"That's not the question you should be asking, son. The better question is how many of the different dreams have been realised?"
I stared in mild horror at the man. "Well?" I said. "How many?"
"All but one of them. I have met with Carolyn Wylde seven times now. Each time she told me a little more. A drop of water to a thirsty man. Never enough to sate him, only enough to keep him alive. Each time we met, she was older. Much older. I'd hazard a guess that she has lived ten years longer than her twin sister by now. The first dream, as you know, was regarding Mouse. Her twin sister needed to be at RATS. For her own safety, predominantly. To keep her out of Sergei's clutches. But I didn't learn that until a later dream. The next few dreams revolved around Time and time slips, segueing into Lunik's secrets. The latest dreams have been all about Multiverse Interpolation."
He stared off into the distance, remembering those dreams or Dream Carrie.
"There are restrictions on how much she can tell me," Clive finally said. "Sometimes, in the dreams, she struggled to say what she wanted to say. In one dream, she was so frustrated, she barely told me anything. But the absence of information was information itself. Carrie was under restrictions. Time's restrictions, maybe. I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps we only need to know what we need to know when we need to know it. Perhaps Time is playing with the rules as well."
"Oh, Time is definitely playing with the rules," I muttered.
"In any case, my Dream Carrie knew things even I did not. I have learned a lot from her."
"And the last dream? The one that hasn't been realised yet?"
"It's not important."
"To hell with that, Clive. Of course, it's important. Tell me."
He sighed. "I have a small understanding of what Time has to put up with. Demands for knowledge that can change things if given out too freely."
"Will this last dream change things, then?"
"Maybe."
"For RATS?"
"For you and Mimi."
Oh, well, that did change things. Did I need to know? Could I take that risk?
Knowledge is power, but power can be destructive.
"We've got off track," I finally said.
"Yes, we have. I'm sorry. I find myself rambling a lot more these days."
I looked at him again and noted the lines around his mouth, the shadows under his eyes. He looked old. Tired. Worn down.
"Sergei," I said.
"The original and ongoing Origin Event."
"That's it, isn't it?" I whispered. "It's ongoing still."
"Yes."
"Then this latest Sergei..."
