Moonlight in his face brought Odeon awake, frowning. That dream had been decidedly peculiar, not at all his usual type—much too realistic, for one thing, so much so that it seemed he could still taste Joanie's milk. What had gotten into him?
More disturbed by the dream than he cared to admit even to himself, he got up and stretched, then made another tour around the shelter before going in. The activity helped—until he saw Chang's tear-stained face and haunted expression. He joined her at the table, glancing at Cortin—no, nothing obviously wrong—before touching the medic's hand. "What's wrong, Sis?" he asked quietly.
"A dream, no more," she said. "I should not have let it disturb me—though it seemed so real I find it hard to dismiss as I should."
Two overly-real dreams not only on the same night, but apparently at the same time … "I just had one of those myself," he said. "If yours matches, I think we can count on interesting times ahead—tell me about it."
When she finished, he rubbed his scar. "Word for word, and as close to action for action as possible with you in here and me outside. Not a dream, then, was it?"
"No." Chang managed a shaky smile. "To live in interesting times is an ancient curse of my people, did you know that?"
"I'd heard," Odeon said. "This was a blessing, though." He fell silent. "If we can believe the visions, anyway. On the other hand, Shayan is the Father of Lies, and his only absolute limitation is that he can't create life. He could be trying to trick us."
Chang shook her head. "I have felt Shayan's touch, Michael; I would know it anywhere, and that was not he. More, what benefit would he get from such trickery?"
"None that I can think of," Odeon admitted. "And I don't really believe the idea myself—comes from a career of questioning everything, especially when there's no physical proof one way or the other."