For most Dreamers, their subconscious connected to the Twilight in the Valley of Dreams. They touched the lives of Guardians through wide golden beams that rose from the valley floor and pierced the misty sky until they could no longer be seen. The varying streams of subconscious thoughts spread as far as the eye could see.

"Actually, I think that's a manifestation of the problem, not the cause." At Connor's raised brow, Wager explained. "Because we are physiologically different from humans, I suspect our brain waves function on another wavelength entirely. That's what causes Cross's slipstream to connect to the Twilight in a different place and to come across with a degraded intensity."

When Aidan entered the dream state, he came to them in a blue stream. While the other slipstreams where clear enough to look through-almost like looking through a thin waterfall-Aidan came across snowy, like a television station with bad reception.

"Okay." Connor heaved out his breath. "That puts a new spin on things."

"Sure does."

"Corporal Trent said you had some news for me?"

"Yes." Wager rolled his shoulders back as if to relieve strain.

Connor's hackles rose. "Lemme guess. It's not good."

"Using information gleaned from the data chips I loaded in the Temple, I found a reference to 'HB-9.'"

"That thing in the Temple was branded with 'HB-12.'"

"I saw that." The lieutenant's lips pursed grimly. "Unfortunately, the file containing the information on the HB Project was incomplete, because the download was aborted too soon."

"Shit." Connor scowled. "HB Project? What does that mean?"

"It means that thing was part of a greater program, but I can't tell how extensive it was."

"Fuck." Connor felt like hitting something. "If there are more of those freaks, we've got problems."