My name is Marie. It’s a little like the word merry: to be happy or glad about something. Two weeks ago a bug bit me on the wrist. That night I had the first dream. My story begins with a dream and ends with The Doctor. Or maybe it’s still going on. You be the judge. Here is my tale.
Night 1
I opened my eyes and saw before me an interwoven net of glowing lights, like those pictures of neurons in science articles. It lay above me and all around me, like the night sky over a meadow. It fluctuated, waxing and waning, connecting and reconnecting and ever branching. Suddenly standing, I took off running. The ground underfoot was like black marble; silky and reflective. I ran until I was breathless. My surroundings remained unchanged. I lay down once more and closed my eyes. When I opened them I found a familiar figure sat beside me. She sported a long elegant gown of cascading fabric, whose silver accents reflected the web of lights all around us. She smiled, her face framed by a million curls. “Hello Marie,” she said.
“River?” I said, then, “I’m dreaming.”
“Yes you are,” River agreed. “But this dream isn’t just random, and neither is the fact that I’m here. I’m to be your guide for a sort of journey. You see, this dream will rewrite your DNA.”
“O. K. …How could a dream rewrite my DNA?”
“You misunderstand me. Not DNA. Small d. dNA. Earth sciences won’t discover dNA for another century or two. Your deoxyribonucleic acid won’t be affected. This will change your dream nucleic acid.”
“My…genetic dream code?”
“You could call it that, yes. That code is about to be rewritten, and your dreams are about to become, more interesting.”
“But it all sounds like nonsense. If it is a dream, then isn’t my brain creating it?”
River shook her head. “Not this time. You were infected by a somnastravirus. The insect that bit your wrist transmitted it. I encountered the virus myself in my travels. The virus is also the reason we seem to know each other already. It can place memories of someone or someplace, as required. No need for introductions.”
“And it’s going to change me?” I asked. I could see overhead the tendrils pooling together. Were they getting closer?
“The effect on your waking self should be mild. Here, in the dream state, the effect is only painful at the beginning. You’ll want to wake up very soon. But the next time you sleep, you’ll notice the change. Some call it the dream legend. Moments of importance to someone generate a resonance that the viral dNA responds to and is pulled toward. As you sleep you’ll watch someone’s story unfolding; going wherever the virus is compelled. You’ll be transported to them each time you sleep, for about a week until the infection clears.”
As she’d been speaking the network above me was changing. The threads I’d been watching had curled together and were now alarmingly close to my face. “What’s happening?” I asked.
“It’s started,” said River.
I flicked the tendril away from my eyes with my hand. Undeterred, it wrapped around my wrist, touching my fingers with new outgrowths.
“How do I know I can trust this?” I said, frantically swatting at the tendril still gripping me.
“What you see attaching to you is without love or malice. It simply is. But trust me when I tell you it will be painful during the process if you remain asleep. There isn’t any way to stop this. So let it happen.”
“But how do I know you’re River?” I gasped as strands attached to me stung and burned like nettles.
“I’ll find you again next time you sleep. Take a look at your wrist,” said River. Shaking, I turned my hand to look at the inside of my wrist where the bug bite was. The tendril still held me, but the spot I was bitten looked like normal skin now; the welt was gone. With lightning speed, River reached across me, grasped my forearm, and shoved my palm into my forehead sharply. It was just enough to startle me into waking.
I jerked upright. I turned to Jim who was beside me. “You alright?” he asked.
“River! Jim, River was in my dream and oh- my wrist!”
Where the welt had been, there was now a different looking mark. It was very plainly a stylized symbol for water and a musical note. It was unmistakable. I showed Jim. “Did- did you put that there yourself? Is this a prank?”
“I’m not joking with you Jim. River was in my dream. That’s her sign to me.”
“Slow down. Tell me what happened. Please? I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I told Jim what I’d dreamed. He was quiet. Finally he said, “I can’t think of another explanation for your wrist. River said the process would be painful if you stayed asleep. Does anything hurt you now? You said the dNA, network thing was stinging you like fire.”
“No. I feel fine right now. It stopped hurting the moment I woke. River said she’d guide me in the dream state and I know you’ll be here when I wake, so I’m not afraid.”