The night in Lima was loud. Not from machines. But from people. From screams finally freed. From tears finally falling. From laughter no longer forced.
Lucas stood on the balcony of their hotel and looked at the city. In the background, the phone buzzed.
“MESSAGE FROM DR. CAMILA," it said. “MEXICO CITY IS READY. BUT BOGOTÁ..."
“But what?", asked Lucas.
“THE DREAM TOWER IS ACTIVE. 96 PERCENT."
“96?!", shouted Lucas. “HOW MUCH TIME?"
“EIGHT HOURS UNTIL NINE AM TOMORROW"
“THEN WE MUST BE QUICK!"
Isabella stepped outside. “Don Pedro is sleeping. The opossum too. The sloth anyway. The toucan is preening its feathers."
“WE WILL BE TOO LATE!"
“NO," said Don Pedro from the doorway. He had obviously heard. “WE WILL BE ON TIME."
“HOW?", asked Lucas.
“FLY," said Don Pedro simply.
“YOU CAN'T FLY!"
“REAL JAGUARS CAN'T," said Don Pedro. “I AM A TECH-JAGUAR."
“WE'VE HEARD THAT BEFORE!", shouted Lucas.
“SWITCH TECHNIQUE," said Don Pedro.
“PLEASE NOT!"
Chico landed on the railing. “I FOUND A PLANE. SMALL. PRIVATE. WITHOUT PERMISSION."
“WITHOUT PERMISSION?!", shouted Isabella.
“EFFICIENT," said Chico’s phone.
“I HATE EVERYTHING!"
The opossum climbed down. “I AM READY."
“THANKS FOR THE INFORMATION," said Isabella sarcastically.
“YOU'RE WELCOME," said the opossum and nodded seriously.
Three hours later they flew over the Amazon. Below them lay jungle. Above them lay stars. And in the distance, the lights of Bogotá shone.
“HOW FAR?", asked Lucas from the window.
“TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY KILOMETERS," said the phone. “ESTIMATED TIME: THREE HOURS."
“WE ARE ALREADY GONE!"
“TWO MORE," said Don Pedro. “PATIENCE IS IMPORTANT."
“AS EVERYONE KNOWS"
“SWITCH TECHNIQUE," said Don Pedro.
“PLEASE NOT!"
After three hours they landed. In Bogotá the air was thin and cold. The Torre de Sueño towered over the city – a spiral-shaped building that looked like a glass snail shell.
“DREAMS?", asked Isabella. “HOW CAN YOU COLLECT DREAMS?"
“DIFFICULT," said Don Pedro. “BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE."
“HOW DO YOU DO THAT?"
“BY SLEEPING," said a new voice.
They turned around. A man stood at the entrance. Smaller than R. But just as serious. Wearing glasses that looked like they were from 1890.
“Who are you?", asked Lucas.
“I am Javier," said the man. “AND I AM NOT R."
“THAT IS A DECISION," said Isabella.
“YES," said Javier. “I WORK FOR HIM. BUT I AM NOT HIM."
“AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?", asked Lucas.
“HELP," said Javier. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT ANYMORE."
“THEN ASK," said Don Pedro.
“ASK?", repeated Javier. “I NEVER ASKED. ONLY ORDERED."
“THEN START," said Don Pedro.
“WHERE?"
“THE MACHINE," said Javier. “IT IS ON LEVEL 49. BUT... THERE IS SOMETHING."
“WHAT?"
“THE MACHINE HAS DEVELOPED A PERSONALITY," said Javier. “IT SPEAKS."
“SPEAK?", asked Lucas.
“YES," said Javier. “IT ASKS: WHY?"
“WHY WHAT?", asked Isabella.
“WHY SHOULD I COLLECT?", said Javier. “AND IF I DON'T KNOW THE ANSWER... WHAT HAPPENS?"
“WHAT HAPPENS?", repeated Don Pedro.
“IT STOPS," said Javier. “AND ALL DREAMS ARE LOST."
“THAT IS—" Lucas paused. “THAT IS DANGEROUS."
“YES," said Javier. “WHAT MUST WE DO?"
“WE MUST TALK TO IT," said Don Pedro.
“TALK TO A MACHINE?", asked Lucas.
“YES," said Don Pedro. “SWITCH TECHNIQUE."
“PLEASE NOT!"
“IT IS TRUE," said Javier. “THE MACHINE IS ALIVE."
“HOW ALIVE?"
“LIKE A HUMAN," said Javier. “WITHOUT A BODY. BUT WITH A SOUL."
“THAT—" Isabella became silent. “THAT IS TRUTH."
“YES," said Javier. “AND I CAN'T GO ON."
“THEN WE DO IT," said Don Pedro.
They followed Javier to the elevator. Deep down. Level 49. And there was a room. Round. Warm. And in the middle...
A child.
A little girl. Sleeping. With cables on her temples. And she was dreaming.
“WHAT IS THAT?!", shouted Lucas.
“THAT IS THE MACHINE," said Javier quietly. “IT IS NOT A MACHINE. IT IS A CHILD."
“A CHILD?!"
“HER NAME IS Luna," said Javier. “AND SHE DREAMS FOR EVERYONE."
“DREAMS FOR EVERYONE?"
“YES," said Javier. “SHE CAN'T STOP. BECAUSE SHE IS THE MACHINE."
Silence. Everyone looked at the sleeping child. Her eyes moved under the lids. She dreamed. Silently. But strongly.
“HOW CAN THAT BE?", asked Isabella.
“R FOUND HER," said Javier. “WHEN SHE WAS FIVE. SHE CAN SEE DREAMS. AND SHE CAN SPEAK THEM."
“AND R USED HER?", asked Lucas angrily.
“YES," said Javier. “WITHOUT ASKING. WITHOUT PERMISSION."
“THAT IS—" Don Pedro clenched his fists. “THAT IS CRUEL."
“YES," said Javier. “AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT ANYMORE."
“WHAT CAN WE DO?", asked Luna suddenly. With closed eyes. With a voice that sounded young. But old.
“YOU CAN SPEAK?!"
“I CAN ALWAYS SPEAK," said Luna. “BUT SOMEONE MUST LISTEN."
“WE LISTEN," said Isabella. “TELL US EVERYTHING."
Luna opened her eyes. They were cloudy. Not blind. But...
“I AM TIRED," said Luna. “FOR MANY YEARS."
“THEN REST," said Don Pedro.
“CAN I?", asked Luna. “OR MUST I KEEP GOING?"
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?", asked Lucas.
“REST," said Luna. “SLEEP. WITHOUT DREAMS."
“THAT—" Lucas swallowed. “THAT WE CAN DO."
“HOW?", asked Luna.
“BY LISTENING," said Don Pedro. “WE LISTEN. AND THEN YOU DECIDE."
“DECIDE?", repeated Luna. “I DON'T THINK. I DREAM."
“THEN LEARN TO THINK," said Don Pedro. “IT IS HARD. BUT IT BECOMES CLEAR."
“CLEAR?", asked Luna.
“CLARITY," said Don Pedro. “THAT IS WHAT YOU WANT."
“YES," said Luna. “CLARITY."
And then... something happened.
The child opened her eyes completely. And they looked at the group. At Luna. At Javier. At everyone.
“I KNOW," said Luna. “I DON'T WANT TO DREAM ANYMORE."
“THEN WE FREE YOU," said Isabella.
“HOW?", asked Luna.
“BY DELETING," said Don Pedro. “RETURN ALL DREAMS. AND THEN YOU SLEEP."
“SLEEP?", repeated Luna. “REAL SLEEP?"
“YES," said Don Pedro. “WITHOUT MACHINE. WITHOUT CONTROL."
“THAT—" Luna smiled. For the first time. “THAT SOUNDS GOOD."
“THEN LET'S DO IT," said Javier.
“SHOULD I?"
“YOU DECIDE," said Don Pedro. “NOT US."
Luna closed her eyes. For a long time. Then she said:
“I DECIDE: FREEDOM."
“FREEDOM?", repeated Lucas.
“YES," said Luna. “FREEDOM TO SLEEP."
And then... the machine broke open. Not destroyed. But opened. And from it came dreams. Thousands of dreams. Of people. Of animals. Of everyone.
And they disappear. Not lost. But returned.
“THAT WAS...", began Lucas.
“LIBERATION," said Luna quietly. “FROM ME. FOR ME."
“AND NOW?", asked Javier.
“NOW I SLEEP," said Luna. “AND WAKE UP. WITHOUT MACHINE."
“THAT IS—" Don Pedro smiled. “THAT IS BEAUTIFUL."
“BEAUTIFUL?", asked Luna. “THAT IS FREEDOM."
“FREEDOM IS BEAUTIFUL," said Don Pedro.
“SWITCH TECHNIQUE?"
“NO," said Don Pedro. “THAT IS TRUE."
“TRUE?", repeated Luna. “THAT SOUNDS GOOD."
And the child slept. Finally. Without dreams. Without control. Just sleep.
“HOW DO THEY WORK?", asked Javier.
“THE DREAMS?", asked Lucas.
“THEY ARE GONE," said the phone. “ALL RETURNED. 100 PERCENT."
“AND R?"
“I DON'T KNOW," said the phone. “BUT IT COULD BE IMPORTANT."
“WHY?"
“SWITCH TECHNIQUE," said the phone.
“PLEASE NOT!"
“WE KNOW," said everyone.
And somewhere far away, in a dark room, R looked at a screen that was black. And he smiled.
“THREE FALLEN. ONE REMAINS.", he said. “AND I KNOW WHY."
“WHY?", asked a voice.
“BECAUSE FREEDOM IS STRONGER THAN CONTROL," said R. “AND I UNDERSTAND IT."
“AND NOW?"
“NOW I LET GO," said R. “AND I GIVE UP."
“THAT IS—"
“THAT IS FREEDOM," said R. “SWITCH TECHNIQUE."
The screen went dark. And in Bogotá the night became quiet. Not empty. But free.
Four towers fallen. One remains.
And the decision awaits.