Wine of the Dreamers by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online

spools to put in the machines. Each room holds ones more complicated than in the previous room. I think that this room was for the very small children, because the words are simple.”
    “You are clever, Raul, to understand those marks. But it seems like a hard thing to do. And I don’t know why you do it.”
    Her wonder had changed to boredom. He frowned. He wanted someone to share this new world with him.
    He remembered a place that would interest her. He took her down several levels to a much larger room. This time the pictures moved and they seemed to have real dimensions and the persons, oddly dressed, talked, using strange words scattered among those more familiar.
    Raul said, “That is a story. I can understand it because I have learned the strange words—at least some of them.” In the dim light he saw her leaning forward, lips parted. The people in peculiar dress moved in strange rooms.
    He turned it off. “Raul! It’s … beautiful. Make it appear again.”
    “No. You don’t understand it.”
    “It is like what I imagine the dreams must be, like they will be when we’re old enough to be allowed to dream. And I thought I could never wait. Please, Raul. Show me how to make it happen again.”
    “No. You have no interest in these things. In women that wear strange colors and men that fight. Go on back down to your games, Leesa.”
    She tried to strike him and then she wept. Finally hepretended to relent. “All right, Leesa. But you must start like I did. With the simple pictures. With the simple writing. And when you learn, then you can see all this again and you’ll understand it.”
    “I’ll learn today!”
    “In a hundred days. If you are quick and if you spend many hours here.”
    He took her back to the first room and tried to help her. She wept again with frustration. At last the corridors dimmed and they knew that the time of sleep had come. Time had gone too quickly. They hurried back down to the others, hiding until the way was clear, then strolling in with exaggerated calm.
    At sixteen Raul Kinson towered above every man in the world. He knew that it was time, and that the day was coming. He knew it from the way the women looked at him, from a new light in their eyes, a light that troubled him. They could not speak to him because until he was empowered to dream, he was still a child.
    There were those who had certain duties. And, in each case, they instructed a young one of their choice in these duties in preparation for the time of death. There was a woman in charge of the rooms of childbirth, and another who cared for the young children. A man, fatter than others, organized the games of the adults. But of all those with special duties, Jord Orlan was the most powerful. He was aloof and quiet. He was in charge of dreams and the dreamers. He had wise, kind eyes and a face with a sadness of power in it.
    Jord Orlan touched Raul Kinson lightly on the shoulder and led him to the far end of the tenth level, to the chambers where Jord Orlan lived alone, apart from the community life.
    Raul felt a trembling excitement within him. He sat where Jord Orlan directed him to sit. He waited.
    “After today, my son, you cease to be a child. All who are no longer children must dream. It is the privilege of being an adult. Those of you who come to me come withmany wrong ideas of the dreams. That is because it is forbidden to discuss the dreams with children. Many of our people take the dreams too lightly. That is regrettable. They feel that the dreams are pure and undiluted pleasure, and they forget the primary responsibility of all those who dream. I do not wish you, my son, to ever forget that primary responsibility. In good time I shall explain it to you. In our dreams we are all-powerful. I shall take you to the glass case of dreams which shall be yours until the time of death. And I will show you how to operate the mechanism which controls the dreams. But first we shall talk of other matters. You have