“There are two worlds.”

  Sibsil Creed's words running through my mind, I tried finding out who Ryst Nova was while I was waiting for HC to come up to the airship conference room.

  Search: Ryst Nova

  Oh geez, there were millions of entries, but I found a short bio. She’d been an obgyneca from Andromeda Galaxy, born January 13, 2710, and had married a Galactic Minister of Hospitality, Nayth Carmidee.

  Their wedding’d been hailed, “The Wedding of the Millennia” with thousands of guests from all 9 Galaxies, and it’d been held on the reclusive sphere of Shurwinn.

  Dr. Nova had her own stream site with videos about health topics and recipes, of all things. Helping cybernetics patients through complications with diet and anxiety-reducing techniques. But after their wedding, the Nova-Carmidees seemed to disappear.

  Nayth made appearences for the Ministry, but those were few and far between. It looked like the couple had given the Known Cosmos a wedding to scream about then had faded from the lime light into obscurity.

  So, what had become of them? And why was Sibsil Creed creating a Legend shrouded in mystery about Ryst Nova? Intentionally garnering interest for something that was to happen 150 years after her birthday?

  I did the math. Bingo.

  Ryst Nova’s birthday of January 13, 2710, plus 150 years equaled January 13, 2860. Four months from now.

  Holy shit. I jumped as the door opened, but it was only HC.

  I said to him, breathless, “Ryst Nova’s 150th birthday is only four months away.”

  The smile on his face would’ve put stars to shame it shone with such joy.

  “You’ve been reading Sibsil Creed, haven’t you Sam? Bitsy Joon videoed me, and we had a nice, vague chat that ended with an invitation for Paddy and I to visit Shurwinn in the Andromeda Galaxy. A sphere I have been curious about for over forty years.”

  “Why does Ryst Nova matter, HC? A medica from Shurwinn a hundred years ago? Why all this secrecy?” I wondered.

  He shook his head. “They’ve got so much material, Sam. I’ve been watching their animations and reading the graphic novels my whole life! You watched Dream With Me Now, so think about it. The name of the character. What was the dreaming girl’s name in that show?”

  “Crystal Startan.”

  “Put it together, Samantha,” he said patiently.

  “Crystal Startan? The name?” I got up to pace, muttering. “She dreamed about a boy she loved, then she met him. . . . HC, I’ve only watched a couple episodes. Writing Discordant took too much time, and—“

  “No, Sam. The name. Focus on the names. Crystal. Ryst.”

  “Ryst Nova. Crystal Startan," I muttered. "OH MY GOD. Nova—as in ‘supernova?' Like a star that explodes at the end of its life? And Ryst—oh! C-ryst-al!” I bounced on my toes.

  “No way, HC! No way! Did they bury Ryst Nova’s story in silly names and cartoons? Was she a dreamer? Is that how she found her husband, Nayth Carmidee? Oh my fucking god, HC!!!”

  I squealed, and he laughed.

  “You have no idea how good it is to talk to someone else besides Paddy about this, Sam. Decades and decades I’ve been researching, trying to figure what it’s all about, and all I can do is chomp those tiny clues from Sibsil Creed, chew on them, and try to puzzle out the riddles."

  "But I can tell you this with 100% certainty: that family is very, very interested in dreams and how they guide us. I need to tell you a story about me, if you can spare the time,” he said, fingers strumming the table.

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  “HC, Bitsy was amazed that I knew you and kept saying things like this is a confluence of rivers, and her dad told you his name. And now Ryst Nova’s birthday is coming up, and look! Here’s the next Sibsil Creed post that’ll be going live on New Year’s Eve!” I handed him my pad with Bitsy’s message.

  His eyebrows flew up. “She sent you that? My lord. A letter that 'will explain everything,' and then a couple weeks later the 150-year deadline is up. Well, well, well. The long wait is nearly over, but what will it reveal?” he muttered to himself, rubbing his beard.

  “Okay, Sam, yes, so Slydar Joon was Bitsy’s father then. That makes sense—“

  I cut him off, pulling out my chair again. “Yeah, and she said Slydar claimed to have accidentally told you his name, but she didn’t believe that because he’s really tricky and likes to toy with people.”

  “Ha!” HC barked. “Well, his little game has been fucking with my mind for over a decade. So, you remember Sam, when we first met on Discord, I told you that I dreamt the Red Phoenix story and had that nightmare about Texas being wiped off the map in a tidal wave?”

  I nodded so he kept going.

  “I sent my digital book to the Press, and Sibsil Creed signed a contract for the graphic novels. It took off, of course, because they were already enormously successful with the Rilla and Rawl graphics, plus the animated erotica series Eclipse Chasers Up The Rear and Yester Year.”

  I doubled over, laughing at the names. Of course those must’ve been popular. Good gods!

  “So, Red Phoenix was more edgy, less comedic than a lot of their stuff, but it took off. Then I got busy with teaching and raising my own kids. Decades passed. Then around nineteen years ago, I got a call from Slydar Joon, and the tone of his voice made me sit up and pay attention."

  My eyebrows quirked at his tone. This Slydar sounded like a character.

  "He wasn’t a casual guy calling for a chat; he was an intense man with a mission, and I knew not to fuck around. All he wanted to know was what had inspired me to write the Red Phoenix, and he didn’t ask calmly for my story.”

  “He demanded it,” HC said emphatically.

  “And when I’d told him all about my dreams of a woman who was a Red Phoenix and the tsunami, he politely thanked me and bid me a good day. That was the last time I heard from anyone at Known Cosmos Earth Press until you got that message from Bitsy Joon,” he finished.

  I rubbed a cheek with my hand, wondering where all of this was leading. “So, it’s dreams again, HC. Bitsy’s very interested in my stories about dreams, and in Cora—. Oh, ah, well, this is pretty personal, and I dunno if I should share it, so I’ll be vague. But, Cora’s been dreaming too.”

  HC nodded. “That you’re her dream girl. That’s what you meant at brunch? No, you don’t need to explain it; that’s just another example. Me with the Red Phoenix, you with Moons Dancing and your poems and dreams that seem like foretelling. And Cora finding a woman she loves through dreaming of her. None of this is coincidence. It’s all lining up, but where does it lead?” he mused.

  I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but that wouldn’t give us any answers. “That’s the question we all keep asking, HC! And what does any of that have to do with Discord and the Trade Guilds? I mean, Sibsil Creed thought it was important to tell the story of how Earth joined the 9 Galaxies, and how the Earthens migrated to Shurwinn centuries ago,” I began.

  "Why does Shurwinn matter? I mean, we all love chocolate, and supposedly theirs is the best, but what do those isolationists have to do with any of this? Ryst Nova was from—“

  HC shook his head, interrupting me. “No, Sam, Ryst wasn’t originally Shurwinn. She immigrated there from Starlend— which is also in Andromeda. Oh, this is priceless. Think about her last name, and then remember the name of the company’s cosmetics that my wife sells. You’ll love this.”

  I thought back. “Novaceuticals, you mean? I don’t really know much about cosmetics. That’s more Rhoda’s thing—“

  HC cut me off, face turning purple he was laughing so hard. “Ryst Nova. Novaceuticals,” he wheezed.

  “OH. MY. GOD. Are you telling me Paddy sells cosmetics from someone who is related to this Ryst person?” This day was getting more and more ludicrous every minute.

  “That’s how I figured out Ryst was from Starlend!” HC wheezed. "She left her family’s empire and money behind, Sam! Ryst Nova’s mother was the Don of Novaceuticals, and a real terror, if the stories are to be believed.”

  “And now your wife is selling those products?” I wondered.

  He shook his head, “No. Paddy had been selling Novaceuticals for years before I figured out Ryst’s history and put it together.”

  “No way. This is unbelievable, HC!”

  “I know! I know! I’ve been living it for decades, and it’s usually just little trickles. Little tiny things you could write off as coincidence. Nothing major. Tiny snippets of stories the Press puts out, but now—“

  “‘There are two worlds,’” I said emphatically. “I’ll see you when I get there.’”

  HC sobered.

  “I got cold chills when I read that, HC. The picture they’re painting is much more than love stories and cutesy dreams-to-lovers romances. My poem about the line between the world of dreams and waking that I wrote when I was seventeen carries a whiff of this same picture, but I don’t really understand what’s going on. Do you? Why do they say, 'There are two worlds?’” I asked, palms before me in question.

  HC was shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know, Sam. I can’t draw any conclusions from the scant information we have right now. And I have no idea—no idea—what the Discord fiasco has to do with that either, but you’re right. Sibsil Creed wanted to remind us of how Earth joined the Trade Guilds five centuries ago, so maybe we should pay attention to that."

  He stood up and finished, "Mull it over, let it roll around in your brain, and maybe the puzzle pieces will eventually make sense. Come on, we’ve gotta get the airship to Cheyenne,” he said, pushing his chair in.

  HC was right. We’d docked at the Denver Transfer Station and needed to disembark for the next leg of our trip, so we went downstairs to meet up with Paddy and Rhoda.

  But all I could think about was the words, “There are two worlds” running round and round in my mind, trying to find a place to land that made sense.