by Laura Kaighn
Vesarius shrugged. “It has been three weeks since we returned to the Pompeii together. With human relations might such a friendly escort not occur on the first date?”
“Oh, Sarius. I’m sorry for my outburst. I’ll try to be more patient. And, yes, I’d like you to offer your arm.”
Together they exited the arboretum. Vesarius popped out his elbow into which Dorinda slid her wrist. He folded his own arm into his side and placed his long fingers atop the woman’s slender hand. How delicate she felt, yet how mighty was her spirit, her compassion. Predictably, a few intrigued and some angered faces met that grasp as they strolled through the ship’s corridors. Vesarius let them gawk. He wanted the crew to become used to the idea. Dorinda was his mate, both in heart and spirit. She was his warrior complement.
When they reached her cabin, Noah greeted them with a cheery chirp from inside. “Oh, Noah, not now,” Dorinda sighed tiredly. “We’ll go swimming in the morning.”
Vesarius chuckled from the open doorway. “You are no longer a weakling, Green Eyes.” He observed her sculptured arms. Two crewmen passed them forcing intruding eyes away. “I believe you could drag me from the Adirondack woods with little effort now.” He remembered her strained rescue attempt through the haze of half-consciousness. Vesarius only clearly remembered that a courageous human had saved his life.
Smiling, Dorinda shrugged at the cabin’s threshold. “Once in a lifetime is enough. But then,” she reconsidered with a frown. “I guess in our line of work, I may have to rescue you again.”
Nodding, Vesarius agreed, “There is a definite possibility that both our braids will need to be shortened from time to time.”
Dorinda’s eyes sparkled with curiosity at the Vesar custom. “What do you do with it all? The hair, I mean. Do Vesar keep their given honors in a drawer or box, or do you frame them to hang on the wall for display?” Her voice betrayed her dislike for the latter.
“I still have a braid of my father’s, from when I rescued him from a deep, rocky pit,” Vesarius acknowledged. “And yours is here.” Lifting his knee, he tugged at a gold cord half hidden in his boot sheath. A small velvet pouch popped out to dangle from the Vesar’s mahogany forefinger. “It is with me always.”
A slow smile spread across Dorinda’s smooth lips. “I like that, Sarius.” Then her grin collapsed. “But the one you gave me ... the one you honored me with in the woods. Well ...” Swallowing, Dorinda continued, “I dropped it. When I saw that Sheriff Cooper was going to shoot you, I just grabbed my husband’s gun, fired a shot in the air, and ran. I don’t have it anymore.”
Shrugging, Vesarius said, “There will be other chances for you to save my life. The honor is not lost when the token is misplaced.” That seemed to settle her for Dorinda smirked again. “Good night, Green Eyes. I will be by in the morning to take you to breakfast before our next training session.”
“All right.” Her subdued answer was dipped in regret. Vesarius knew Dorinda wished him to stay, to at least kiss her good night. The Vesar recalled his many lonely nights since returning to the Pompeii with her and wanted it so as well. Too long; it had been too long. But it must be so at least for a time. After Orthop. Then perhaps the two could be together. Nodding his goodbye, Vesarius stepped back from Dorinda’s cabin door, turned away, and strode from her warm closeness.
After the mission, Vesarius would openly pledge his love to her. There was one formality, however, that still might prevent such an action. Vesarius recalled his communiqué to Vesar Prime requesting citizenship status. He had yet to receive the reply from the Vesar Council. Would he be allowed to regain what his dishonor had forfeited? Uncertain, Vesarius headed for the recreation deck. A workout before bed would help him sleep without his mind ruminating so.
Chapter 2: Unexpected Outcomes
Dorinda sighed as she climbed into bed. Noah purred quietly, curling atop her pillow, ready for sleep. “I’m glad you’re here, Slink. At least I’m not totally alone.” Exhaling again, she threw her arms up above the covers. “Sometimes I just want to touch him. I want to be close to him. One night together only makes me want more,” Dorinda declared. She fell silent, her thoughts drifting to her recent past, her cottage in the Adirondack woods, no longer hers.
Slowly her inner images focused on a chill September morning. Tundra had been bonded to her then; Vesarius was dead ... or so she had thought. Then Tundra had bolted through the trees, down the path, past her former home to the lake beyond. Dorinda had chased after him, calling the Alaskan malamute back. That’s when she had realized Noah and Tundra were not alone. A dark silhouetted figure also splashed in the icy water, sending sunlit diamonds aloft with each mahogany stride. “Vesarius,” Dorinda mumbled. Her inner sight viewed him once more glistening in the liquid morning glow. Yes, he was alive, because he had jumped through the Orthops’ time machine. Vesarius had been sent back a millennium to the time of the Orthops’ ancestors, the Mytoki. The Mytoki had promised peace in this future, had sent Vesarius home, returned him to her, and requested his help with the peace negotiations between Orthop and the Alliance.
Dorinda fidgeted in bed. What if the Mytoki had made yet another mistake? What if, for some unknown or missed detail, the Orthops still wanted to conquer, to invade the Alliance and destroy it? The interpretation of a written text could take many forms. Perhaps it was that inner doubt which had brought on the disturbing visions during her two meditation attempts.
Rolling away from those distressing questions, Dorinda patted Noah good night and closed her eyes for sleep. But it was many minutes before she was successful. Then, perhaps because of her fears, Dorinda’s dreams were dark and threatening.
Vesarius was crouched beside the Pompeii’s transport, his heavy, missile-armed crossbow resting on one arm, cocked and ready to fire. Scooting sideways along the transport’s metal flank, he first checked his left then right. Finally, the Vesar ducked his head to peek under the transport’s silver nose. Then Vesarius waved Dorinda away warning her to stay back.
Dorinda slunk against the sun-warmed metal sensing the intense fear in her racing heart, the impending death in every charged breath. “Vesarius, are they coming?”
“Yes. Coty is with them.”
“We’ve got to get Michael away from them.”
Dorinda saw Vesarius frown and shake his braided head. “I must leave now. My orders. Get in the transport, Dorinda.”
“No! Coty’s coming. Wait for him.”
Vesarius pulled her to her feet pushing her back toward the open hatch. “Get inside, Dorinda. We are leaving.” He shoved her sideways, into the opening. Tossing in his crossbow, he leaped in after it.
“No, Vesarius. Coty’s coming. You can’t leave him with them. They’ll kill him.” Vesarius punched the hatch lock and strode to the pilot seat. “Sarius, no!”
“Sit down. We have no more time.”
“Michael!”
Dorinda startled awake to the sound of Noah’s squeal of surprise. “No.” Breathlessly she sat up to cradle her face in her hands. A nightmare. She had experienced a nightmare. It hadn’t been real. Slowly Dorinda was able to calm her breathing and clear her mind of the intense horror. Vesarius would never leave Michael to die at the foreclaws of the Orthops. Peace. They were going to Orthop to talk peace. There would be no more killing. The Orthops would join the Alliance; it had to be so.
Dorinda blinked away the fading images, concentrated instead on Vesarius’ face. But his features were dissipating rapidly. His eyes would have told her the truth. He could not lie to her, for she always saw the truth in the man’s obsidian gaze. Sighing, Dorinda shook the vestigial haze from her mind. “I can’t go on like this, Noah. I’m starting to worry even in my sleep.”
She was reminded of a dream she had just before her husband’s death. Michael Tanner had dispelled her disturbing premonition as a foolish nightmare. Now she knew the truth. Her husband’s car crash had not been an accident. He had been murdered – run off the road into a
tree-lined ditch just south of Blue Mountain, within the Adirondack State Park. In her dream, Dorinda had seen his broken, bloodied body. At the time, Tanner had blamed the images on his wife’s vivid storytelling imagination. “Use it for a book idea,” he had suggested. “A plot device.” But Tanner had died the next day. Too grieved in the moment to even remember the nightmare, Dorinda now found herself wondering.
Had she ever had a premonition before? Could it have been coincidental? Now fully awake, Dorinda knew she would not return to sleep. Climbing from the bed, she slipped on her favorite Jade jumper and slid into her flat, black boots. “Come on, Noah. I have to talk to Yolonda. I need to know the truth about these dreams.” Sliding from the pillow, the otter yawned then sauntered after his Bondmate.
They found Dr. Yolonda Sheradon in her quarters reviewing several medical journals on a small tabletop viewer. Standing, Sheradon greeted the younger woman but frowned when she noticed Dorinda’s troubled expression. “What’s wrong, Dori?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Lonnie, but I need to talk to you about something. Is it all right?”
Nodding curtly, the doctor ushered the two in to her small sitting area, a couch along a partitioning wall beside the bed. “You know I never sleep.” Yolonda plopped down on the bunk and leaned forward to listen. “What’s on your mind?”
Eyeing the dark-haired doctor with gratitude but uncertainty, Dorinda released a tense breath from the couch and began her tale.
“Dorinda,” Dr. Sheradon replied when she had finished voicing her fears, “have you ever had a premonition before?”
“It can’t be that, Lonnie,” Dorinda attested. “What I saw couldn’t be true.”
“Yet you can’t remember enough of it to tell me what happened.”
“No. Only the dread remains. Maybe I don’t want to remember.”
Yolonda Sheradon nodded from the bed. “You’re probably right. But with training, you can hold the image indefinitely. Have you ever been tested for PSY ability, in your time?”
“Psychic phenomena?” Dorinda gawked. “It’s just a ploy. A way to make money on the telephone.”
“No,” Sheradon countered. “No, it’s not. In this century, PSY ability is seen as a once forgotten talent, now very useful. Now I’ll ask you again. Have you ever had a premonition? A strange dream that came true?”
Dorinda swallowed hard and blinked back the sense of returning dread. Yolonda was serious, and she wanted to help. “Yes.” Dorinda shared her premonition of Michael Tanner’s death. “My husband knew the route like the back of his hand, so I didn’t worry,” she justified. “Neither of us knew Sheriff Cooper would run him off the road, just to prevent Michael from submitting important information to federal authorities. Michael had enough evidence to back a case against environmental damage to the park by logging and tourist growth. He had proof that the songbird population had dwindled to a quarter of its normal numbers in just two years where logging was prevalent. Only now do I know his death wasn’t an accident.”
Sheradon was nodding again. “All right, Dori. Any other dreams which came true? Think back, even to when you were a child.”
Lidding her eyes a moment in concentration, she admitted, “Everyone has bouts of déjà vu. I never thought I was any different.”
“But you may be, Dori. Think back, to happy things, funny surprises, wishes that came true.”
Grinning suddenly, Dorinda opened her eyes to regard the doctor with mischief. “I once asked my parents for a puppy. My mother said no, because she knew she’d be the one taking care of it. I was only nine. Well, that night I wished God for a little puppy. Black with a white bib and feet. The next morning, I remembered a dream I had had about that puppy. Daddy had brought him home in a Michelob box. The puppy wasn’t exactly what I’d wished for. In the dream, he was black, but only his front feet were white. And there was a white streak down his nose shaped like a “Z”. In my dream, I called him Zorro.
“Well, I got up from bed, and in the kitchen under the table was this cardboard box with Michelob along the side.” Dorinda watched Yolonda’s eyes sparkle and mouth turn up in anticipation. “I ran into my parent’s bedroom yelling, ‘Zorro! Zorro’s in the box. Isn’t he?’ Well, Dad gave me such a look. Turns out he had named the puppy Zorro, at least to himself.” Dorinda smiled. “That puppy was my best friend, and every bit as rascally as his namesake, too.”
“Coincidence, Dori?” Yolonda asked.
“I thought so at the time. But Dad later admitted that he also had dreams which came true.” Crunching up her eyes, Dorinda pushed away her last hesitation. “Lonnie, could it be something more? Could I really be seeing events that haven’t happened yet?”
Smacking her knee, Yolonda Sheradon hopped from the bed. “Let’s find out.” She headed for the door. As Dorinda followed her, Sheradon explained, “I’ve got tests that measure PSY ability. They’re very reliable. Afterward you might want to talk to Lt. Darby. Moxland’s the highest PSY rating on the ship. Comes in handy with communications. Moxie can talk with most Kinpanions when in line-of-sight. Your gift may be clairvoyance.” As they entered the magnelift, Sheradon palmed the next floor down. “Think of it, Dori. For a SAR expert, a PSY talent would be indispensable. You’ll need training to use it, control it, but Coty would be grateful to have such talent aboard.”
They stepped out of the lift. “Then this is good, these nightmares.” Dorinda’s spine tingled with skepticism. “I’ll just be tired and frazzled all the time.”
“No, Dori,” Yolonda Sheradon urged taking her arm and guiding her toward the medical lab. “It’s a gift, a serious responsibility. An asset. But you must learn to use it. To turn it off and on when you need it. You’ll be in control.” She shrugged. “Besides, we won’t know for sure until after the tests.”
Stifling a yawn, Dorinda followed the doctor into the Pompeii’s medical center. “What types of tests are they? Are you going to hypnotize me?”
“Something like that,” Sheradon mumbled popping her hands on her hips and scanning the room for the correct locker. “I don’t often get to use this stuff. I’m not sure where I stored it.” When she turned back to her patient, Yolonda’s ice-blue eyes softened to pillows. “It’s all right, Dori. The tests are completely safe, painless, and this really is a good thing.”
“Sure. I guess I should be looking at this as just one more learning experience. Another alternative to my quiet, boring life before.” Dorinda’s shoulders slumped.
“Dorinda,” Sheradon emphasized. “You need to grow.”
“Not all within the same month!”
“You’re the strongest woman I know,” Yolonda retorted. “Look at all you’ve accomplished in that month.” Then Yolonda’s pale lips tilted in irony. “Vesarius’ll be very proud. He’ll say it was a gift from Brahmanii Sule, an honor.”
Dorinda harrumphed in skepticism. “He won’t like to know what I saw. I told him he was going to betray Michael. Vesarius was angered that I doubted him. But I think Michael’s going to die.”
“Are you sure?” Sheradon’s eyes were icy shards of apprehension. “The future’s undetermined. Perhaps if we know what will happen, we can take measures to prevent it.” Sheradon led her to a medical slab and lowered it to knee height with the press of a button. “Let’s find out for sure. Sit here, just as if you were going to meditate. I’ll get the equipment.”
With a nervous sigh, Dorinda complied. She folded her legs upon the cushioned platform. As Sheradon opened and checked the contents of several lockers along the med center’s far wall, Dorinda watched from her perch. Finally the doctor grunted in satisfaction and pulled out a squat cart seated with a multi-dialed and wired machine. “Found it.” She rolled the cart over to Dorinda’s side. “This is my handy cognitive imaging scanner. It converts brainwaves into electronic pulses which I can translate into brain activity centers. The CIS does the complete analysis, decoding the information and making a scaled readout onto a storage crystal. In
an hour, we’re done. Interested?”
Dorinda frowned. “What do I have to do?”
“Just what you did in the arboretum. Relax, let your thoughts drift. The CIS is quiet. It shouldn’t disturb you.”
“It’ll measure my PSY ability?”
“No,” Sheradon contended, “that’s another test. This’ll just confirm which area of the brain is most productive during your meditation. I’m looking for Para-cortex stimulation. It’ll confirm for you whether your visions are more than just a vivid imagination.”
“But I don’t want them to be more than just my imagination.”
Sheradon ignored her and continued. “Later when you’re rested, I’ll run the other two tests. One will measure your PSY rating. The other will project its potential. We’ll know a bit more about that tonight. The exact location of your imaging-producing cortex functions will tell us the nature of your gift.”
Grimacing, Dorinda admitted, “Sounds complicated. In my century the brain’s functioning and the correlation of activity to result was only beginning to be mapped or understood in any detail.”
Smiling, Sheradon offered, “See? There are advantages to living in the future.”
Grinning as well, Dorinda nodded. “You’re right. Who else in my time could truly claim to have traveled the stars, folding space with interstellar transport gates? We hadn’t even made it to Mars yet. And because of you I have a new spine. In my time I’d be a paraplegic ... or dead.”
Dorinda recalled the accident as a violent and surprising blast from behind. She had just finished dragging an injured Vesarius through the Mytoki time gate from her Adirondack woods of 1999. Suddenly a stray bolt of plasma fire had slammed her forward, almost toppling Dorinda back through the Arch. She had crashed to the stone plaza and awakened later, confused and disoriented, on the Pompeii. She had been surrounded by strangers then.
“It was a trying time, Lonnie. I’m still grateful for your caring support. This new life is wonderfully different.” Dorinda sighed and admitted with a raised brow, “Definitely a challenge.”
