Part I

It was cool. The breeze against her skin felt good, but there were goosebumps up and down her arms. She looked down. No wonder. She was naked, her feet in three inches of snow. Snow? But she wasn’t freezing. Oh. A dream. She looked around, at the wild trees and the wilder bushes, all tight around her. Well, if it was a dream, then she should be wearing a thick fur coat. Ah, that was better. All snuggled up in warmth that wrapped around her like a man’s arms.

A man’s arms. A man. Which man? She screwed up her forehead, trying to think. Which man? Someone big. Tall. But not the captain. He was father. Someone with brown hair. But not the pilot. He was friend. Someone with blue eyes. But not the doctor. He was … yeuk. Brother. She grinned. Only left one. The mercenary.

She started to walk through the snow towards the light in the distance. It looked like a lamp hung on a metal pole, but as much as she ploughed forward it receded, and her feet were getting mired. She stood still, angry at herself. This was her dream. It should go the way she wanted it. No point in lucid dreaming if it didn’t. She stamped her foot, and it splashed. She looked down. Snow turning to slush, with green shoots pushing through the water-logged earth, growing up, tangling around her legs.

Something moved. Something in the bushes. She listened. Sounded like something pushing through. Perhaps it was the mercenary. She bit her lip because she couldn’t remember his name, only his callused hands on her skin, making her bones turn to liquid, her insides to mush. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Yes. Him. He stepped out of the undergrowth, his body naked, glistening, advancing on her, his arousal prominent. She smiled, held out her hands to him, welcoming him.

But he looked … wrong.

His skin was turning white, and his hair the same, a bulbous growth erupting on his forehead. He went down onto all fours, his hands and feet changing, the nails growing, merging into ho