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    Dream Chasers: Dystopian Scifi Series, #1
    Dream Chasers: Dystopian Scifi Series, #1
    Dream Chasers: Dystopian Scifi Series, #1
    Ebook82 pages1 hour

    Dream Chasers: Dystopian Scifi Series, #1

    By Logan Stark

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    About this ebook

    It’s the future, and there’s a great divide in rainy Tokyo. Upper City separates itself from Lower City, where the streets are filthy and the people hungry for salvation, but life goes on, because in Tokyo, Upper City is the one in control.

    Dream Chasing is illegal in the Lower City parts. Only the elite, all in Upper City, may indulge in going into someone else’s dream. A Dream Chaser, a person with a strong imagination, has the ability to go into a dream and harvest energy from it. Dream Energy can be sold for profit.

    Peter Steel lives in a dystopian Lower City. He’s almost eighteen and is living the dream: cleaning Upper City’s drains. Despite his job and shelter, he has one thing to fall back onto: his passion for drawing. Peter also wants to be a Dream Chaser, but he’s a Lower City resident, and that means he’ll always be a nothing. But that all changes when his friend, Ohko – a cocaine snorting narcissist who hangs out with the wrong people – tells him something that will change his life forever.

    Peter soon learns that Dream Chasing isn’t all that; staying alive in the real world will be the hard part.

    Dystopian Scifi Series: Book 1 (approximately 70+ pages; science fiction, thriller)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLarry
    Release dateOct 1, 2014
    ISBN9781502287748
    Dream Chasers: Dystopian Scifi Series, #1

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      Book preview

      Dream Chasers - Logan Stark

      Contents

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      -1-

      -2-

      -3-

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      About the author

      DREAM CHASERS

      ––––––––

      By

      ––––––––

      Logan Stark

      ––––––––

      Copyright © 2014 by Logan Stark

      Dream Chasers

      Dystopian Scifi Series: 1

      All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

      — Edgar Allan Poe

      -1-

      ––––––––

      The spaceship was a glistening white, a human ingenuity, a craft that didn’t need human guidance, a ship among many, a ship that had the ability to use the air as fuel, and it was gliding peacefully over everyone, and not a single person looked up to watch it fly, except Peter Steel, who was daydreaming about being a Dream Chaser.

      The spaceship crashed into Allen Manmoet, and he didn’t even notice, or maybe he did but knew better than to raise his voice, because that’s what happened last week with the other teacher, that guy raised his voice and now he’s in hospital, something about a punctured neck.

      Allen turned around, briefly looking at the paper spaceship on the floor. He was a small man with a face only an animal could love. While adjusting his head visor – trying to get the blue, transparent wall in front of his eyes back online – a fight erupted from behind.

      ‘What you do old man?’ the teenager asked, adjusting his jet-black jacket, making sure the already-up collar was up. ‘Saw you climbing off that bus in the morning I did, so you must’ve done something to piss the city off.’

      Allen, the teacher for the day, gave up fixing his visor and turned his attention to the quarrel. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, lifting a hand as if stopping traffic. ‘May I please know what’s going on back—’

      ‘Why don’t you shut your fucking lips,’ the teenager said. A paper spaceship flew over his head, this one hovering toward the auditorium’s exit where a graveyard of crumpled papers awaited. The room was divided into two groups. The young ones sat on the left side; the older ones sat on the right side.

      Peter Steel was a month away from eighteen, five-foot-seven, and just shy from good looking. For some reason he already had gray hair sprouting from his messy black. His mother, Jackeline Steel, always joked that it was a sign of great things to come and that girls secretly found it attractive, said it made them see you as a man with wonderful potential. Peter turned his head and looked at a girl who sat with the older people. He didn’t know her name but she was easy on the eyes – blazing red hair neatly trimmed into a short bob, small shoulders to match her frame, and a face with soft curves. She had to be around his age, Peter thought. When a person is around your age, you just instinctively know. He wondered why she never sat with the younger ones, and she never seemed to mingle with anyone either. He looked away as she looked at him, and he thought: who can blame her, making friends is a stupid idea, especially in this part of the city where trusting someone can get you killed.

      The room had an overdose of perfume hanging in the air; it smelled like a barroom at 3 a.m. about to call it a night. A group of Asian women wearing blue overalls (with the lettering TOKYO CLEANER at the back) broke out laughing and gave each other a high-five. They were rambling on about the special day tomorrow, the only day in the year that their part of the city, Lower City, got a break from work. It also meant Peter would be able to see his mother, who fell sick the last time he saw her a year ago tomorrow.

      Allen finally got his visor working. The left side of his face lit up in a blue transparent wall, where white text went up and down with eye movement. He pointed at the black board behind and a picture appeared. He readied his throat by coughing. ‘May I please ask for order? We got a hell of a lot to do, and we only have an hour left, and if we ...’

      Peter sighed, a deep and long one that felt like forever. What was the point of this, he thought. It’s always the same thing. They try and teach them about the city life and no one listens. Though, Peter can’t blame the people around him. He’s getting tired of hearing the same stuff every day as well, teachers telling them how they should clean the city properly, how they should maintain professionalism in a city that doesn’t care about them, how they should respect everyone from the Upper City, because they are the ones funding them with food, homes, and money. Peter thought about his home, a box with everything you need: a toilet and a mattress. He laughed inside. But he can’t complain, it’s the way it’s always been. It’s the Lower City’s duty to maintain all things hands-on, which included cleaning, running errands, fixing, and serving the Upper City by working in places like restaurants and washing the washing machines. Peter wouldn’t mind working in a nice part of the city. He looked at the girl with the red hair and knew that she had to be working there. With hair like hers, there’s only one place to get that, and it’s not Lower City.

      The teenager with the black jacket had stopped harassing the old man, who was now sitting quietly doing his own thing, drawing something that required squinting eyes. Peter was one of the few who stared at the teacher, who was now talking about the dangers of trespassing in Upper City.

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