The Palace of Dreams Read Online Free PDF

away.
    “It’s nothing,” he said.
    “Thank you!”
    Mark-Alem picked up a cup of coffee, still clutching the money in his other hand.
    “When did you start?” asked his companion.
    “Today.”
    “Really? Congratulations! Well, you’re right to …” He let the sentence trail off and took a sip of coffee. “What section are you in?”
    “Selection.”
    “Selection?” the other exclaimed, as if surprised. He smiled. “Well, you’ve certainly made a good start. People usually begin their career in Reception, or even lower down, in the copying section.”
    Mark-Alem suddenly wanted to find out more about the Tabir Sarrail. A small chink had appeared in his former reticence.
    “So Selection’s an important department, is it?” he asked.
    The other stared at him.
    “Yes, very important. Especially for a young recruit …”
    “How do you mean?”
    “I mean especially for someone who’s just been appointed?
    “And what about in general? Not just for someone young, but in general?”
    “Yes, of course. In general it’s regarded as a crucial department. Of the utmost significance.”
    Now it was Mark-Alem’s turn to stare.
    “Naturally there are sections that are more important still… .”
    “Interpretation, for instance?”
    The other lowered his cup.
    “Well, well—you’re not such a novice as you seem,” he said with a smile. “You’ve learned quite a lot already, considering it’s your first day!”
    Mark-Alem was tempted to smile back, but realized it was too soon to make so bold. The icy carapace that seemed to cover his face this extraordinary morning hadn’t quite melted yet.
    “Of course, Interpretation is the very essence of the Tabir Sarrail,” the other went on. “Its nerve center, its brain, so to speak, for it’s there that the preliminaries carried out in the other sections take on their real significance… .”
    Mark-Alem listened feverishly.
    “And the people who work there are known as the aristocrats of the Tabir?”
    His companion pursed his lips and thought for a moment.
    “Yes. Something like that. Although of course …”
    “What?”
    “Don’t go thinking there aren’t any others above them.”
    “And who are they?” asked Mark-Alem, surprised at his own audacity.
    The other looked back at him calmly.
    “The Tabir Sarrail is always bigger than it seems,” he said.
    Mark-Alem would have liked to ask him what he meant, but was afraid of presuming too far.
    “In addition to the ordinary Tabir,” went on the other, “there’s the secret Tabir. The dreams that are analyzed there are not sent in by people themselves—they’re obtained by the State through methods and means of its own. You’ll appreciate that that’s a section no less important than Interpretation!”
    “Of course,” replied Mark-Alem, “although …”
    “Although what?”
    “Don’t all the dreams, whether they’re sent in spontaneously or collected by the secret Tabir, end up in Interpretation?”
    “As a matter of fact, all the sections but one are duplicated—they all have offices both in the ordinary Tabir and in the secret one. Only the Interpretation department is a single service common to both. However, that doesn’t mean it’s superior in the hierarchy to the secret Tabir as such.”
    “But perhaps it’s not inferior either?”
    “Perhaps. There’s a certain amount of rivalry between them.”
    “In short, both those sections constitute the aristocracy of the Tabir.”
    The other man smiled.
    “More or less, if that’s how you like to put it.”
    He took another swig at his cup, though there was no coffee left in it now.
    “But you mustn’t suppose even they are at the top,” he went on. “There are others again above them.”
    Mark-Alem looked at him hard to see if he was serious.
    “And who are they?”
    “The Master-Dream officers.”
    “What?”
    “The Master-Dream officers. The section that deals with the Arch-Dream, as they’ve taken to calling it