by Brian Fuller
“Same goes for you.” He grinned, but with the way she was looking at him, no insults leapt to mind.
“So, teach me this meditation technique you learned from Dolorem,” she said. “What happened to you looked amazing, and I could use a little amazing right now.”
He stood up and pulled her up with him. “Some place you won’t be interrupted would be better. Our room would work. Or somewhere out in the desert.”
She looked fit to bust out laughing, shaking her head and covering her mouth.
“What?” he asked.
“You missed a huge opportunity there. A woman tells you she could use a little amazing right now and it doesn’t even register. Stay on your toes, soldier!”
He had missed that one. “Well, I thought of it, but, you know, earlier you said you weren’t ‘in the mood.’”
“Liar.” She laughed.
Chapter 33
The Talk
It was about ten minutes until the team meeting with Sicarius Nox. Helo had taught Aclima the meditation technique—minus the solution to the visual riddle—and she had spent the better part of the night practicing, sitting like a statuesque goddess on her floor mat, barely moving. As of yet she hadn’t asked him any questions or for any advice, but he thought her six-thousand-year-old pride might be getting in the way.
His phone buzzed. Helo glanced at the screen to see who it was. Lear? He hadn’t heard from his Ash Angel father in some time. He stepped outside the room to keep from bothering Aclima and tapped Lear’s friendly headshot.
“Hey, Lear!”
“Helo, my most illustrious son, how have you been?”
It was good to hear his voice. Lear always had a carefree energy about him that seemed to defy any attempt at gravity.
“I’m good. Busy, but good,” Helo answered.
“I heard you’ve been busy,” Lear said. “More famous by the minute the way it all filters down to my desk. You ought to update your dear old dad more often. Anyway, I just wanted to give my condolences on your parents and brother. If you find Cain, shoot him twice for me, okay? And if you need anything, you let me know.”
“Thanks,” Helo said. “You guys make any headway on Tela’s dreams or this angel-born thing?”
“Not really my department, but I’ll ask around. I will say that angel born is trending around here. The stuff you can do . . . incredible! Fantastic! Maravilloso! Makes me want to sing—”
“Save it for later.” Helo chuckled.
“So what inspiring adventure are you off to now?”
So that had been kept under wraps. Probably for the best. “Classified, you know.”
“I’ll have to wait for the highlight film, then,” Lear returned. “And, um, you . . . uh . . . found yourself a nice belle to take to the ball?”
“A nice what?”
“Are you seeing anyone, Helo? You know . . .”
Why was there such profound interest in his love life? “Been a bit busy, you know. I did ask Aclima out. She said she’d think about it. I’m not even sure how the whole love-dating-sex thing even works as an Ash Angel.”
“What!?” Lear said, voice mirthful. “Did you miss the birds-and-the-bees class?”
“Is it a good one?” Helo said.
“Oh yeah.”
“Then I missed it.” He hadn’t made it to many classes during his training with Cassandra.
“And Dolorem didn’t bring it up?”
“No,” Helo said. “Well, yes. I didn’t want to talk about it. I was done after what happened with Terissa.”
“Right, right,” Lear said a bit more soberly. “But Aclima has made you rethink your monkish celibacy. Good. Good. She’s a sight, all right. A product of a pair of perfect—”
“Are you going to tell me or not?” Helo whispered, glancing around.
Lear laughed. “Yeah, sure. So here’s the thing. When a mommy and daddy Ash Angel love each other very much—”
“C’mon, man.”
“All right, so here’s the actual thing. In the mortal world there are three separate concepts when it comes to romantic relationships: mature love, commitment, and sex. For our own good, God has tried—with limited success—to get people to go in that order. So buckle up for this. For Ash Angels, love, commitment, and sex are not three separate concepts but one whole.”
“How so?” Helo asked.
“You’ve seen Neapolitan ice cream with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry all in their own separate sections, right? It’s like taking that and blending it all together. You see, mortals can have sex without love or commitment. Or commitment without sex or love. Or love without commitment or sex. For Ash Angels, you can never have one without the other. Some Ash Angels marry to satisfy a convention, but it’s really not necessary. Ash Angels physically can’t respond sexually without the commitment or the love already there. There’s no pleasure, no release. But when you find the one, and all three pillars are there, well, my friend, it’s hard to describe. Sublime is as close as I can get without launching into a song.”
Now that was something. “So it’s happened to you?”
“You bet. Glade was her name. Together fourteen years. Ascended four years ago. I miss her every day.”
Helo felt bad about not knowing that. Every time he and Lear talked, he had badgered his Ash Angel father for information rather than really getting to know him—just like he was doing now.
“So how did you know she was the one, that all the pillars were there?” Helo asked.
Lear chuckled. “You’ll know when it happens. It’s unmistakable. There are all kinds of mortal songs and stories about people knowing she’s ‘the one’ from a single glance or a romantic night or whatever. Those are echoes—usually hormonal ones—of the divine reality of knowing, really knowing, who your one is. Soul mates is a corny, stupid cliché of mortal life. It is a transcendental reality of ours.
“Don’t worry, Helo. If you want to love again, you’ll find it. And when you find her, there will be no mistake. You’ll also know why people who care for you keep pestering your white butt about it. After what you went through with She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, it will be doubly sweet.”
Helo made small talk with Lear for a few more minutes, said goodbye, and headed back to his room. Aclima was still there, still unmoving, in the lotus position.
He crouched down and grabbed her hand. “Hey, time to go.”
She grabbed his back and opened her eyes. The meditation had done her good, her eyes brighter and more at peace than he had ever seen them.
He stood and pulled her up. “How did it go?”
She grabbed her phone off the desk and stuffed it in a pocket. “Okay. I had a hard time focusing on the picture. Other thoughts kept intruding.”
Helo nodded as the door swished open. “Yeah, it was tough for me at first. It seemed like every dark thought kept wanting to blow the thing up.”
“They weren’t dark thoughts,” she said, smiling. “Good ones, actually.”
That was good. There hadn’t been a lot of good to be had of late. “So there were some good memories in those six thousand years. I was beginning to think it was all bad.”
“No, not all bad.”
“Well, let’s hear one,” he said.
She thought for a moment. “My favorite has to be this one time Cain was making me serve tables at this place when this newbie Ash Angel operative came in and picked a fight to defend me, a Dread, from three other Dread pigs.”
It warmed him that she thought so highly of what he had done, though most Ash Angels laughed at it. “I know that story. There have to be others.”
She shrugged and leaned into him for a moment. “That’s the one that matters to me, something no one can take away.”
They arrived at conference room 3, the door swishing open. Helo walked in after Aclima, wishing he still had a few more hallways to walk alone with her. Argyle was up front at parade rest, as usual. Would the guy never loosen up? Goliath was planted o
n her spot at the table. Shujaa and Faramir sat on the front row, Shujaa scrawling 3:24 on the knuckles of his hands with a Sharpie.
Goliath smiled at them, and they took two seats at the front.
“Okay, let’s get this meeting underway,” Goliath said, hopping down. “A couple of announcements. First, both Aclima and Helo received new Bestowals. We’ll have a party for them tomorrow off-site. Helo’s actually received two Bestowals since he’s been with us, so double ice cream for him tomorrow.
“Second, Faramir and Shujaa, you may not be aware, but Helo and Aclima are being coerced by Cain into a meeting. The meeting place is in the Northwest. The invitation carries the usual threats if anyone but them shows up to the meet, but we’ve been given clearance to be in the vicinity to be the sharp end of the stick if there’s an opportunity.”
Shujaa swung his head around. “You should not go, Angel Born. You are too valuable. He will use his Sheid to kill you.”
“I have to go,” Helo said. “I know it’s dangerous, but if Cain will really be there, there’s a chance I can get him. Maybe get the Sheid, too. It’s the best shot we’ve had. And I can’t leave Scarlet there without trying.”
“How do Dreads do this kind of stuff, Aclima?” Faramir asked. “What’s Cain going to do to make sure we can’t find you?”
Aclima leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. “Well, if I had my guess, Helo and I will show up at the dock in Blaine, they’ll take our hearts—and since Cain’s asked us to dress up—our clothes as well. That way they can be sure we aren’t packing anything inside our bodies and it will give them time to give our clothing the once-over to make sure we haven’t hidden some tracking device.
“When they get our hearts, they’ll probably play some sort of shell game with them using multiple boats or something to defeat any surveillance by land or sea. I’m guessing we’ll meet on one of his yachts out in the middle of deep water. Even if someone knew where we were, a stealthy approach would be nearly impossible, as would escape.”
“And what’s his end game?” Argyle asked.
“Torture and kill us,” Aclima said flatly. “He’s already said he wants to turn me back into a Dread before he offs me, just out of spite.” She paused for a moment, fighting some emotion.
Helo took her hand. “It’s not going to happen. We’ve been talking about what we can do to piss him off and make him slip up.”
He went to pull his hand away, but she kept a hold of it. Together they reviewed what they had planned so far, including Aclima’s laundry list of Cain’s pet peeves.
“We’re open to suggestions,” he concluded.
Goliath grinned. “Well, besides decking Aclima out as the anti-trophy wife, we need to pimp Helo so he outshines Cain no matter what Cain wears.”
“That’s good,” Aclima said.
“And break his things,” Shujaa added. “If he likes his things, attack his things.”
“Also good,” Aclima agreed, “but we’ll have to take care. That really infuriates him. While I’d prefer a quick death to torture, breaking his stuff might make him step up his timeline.”
Faramir, who had been staring out into space with a thoughtful expression, finally spoke up.
“Aclima, when they took you last time, what did they check for?”
“Basic tracking,” she said. “As far as I could tell, they were checking for radio signals. They also had one of those airport wands to wave over my body to make sure I wasn’t concealing a weapon inside me.”
“What are you thinking, Faramir?” Goliath asked.
“Alternate forms of tracking. If they are just checking for transmissions, maybe we could use some passive forms of marking they might not be expecting.”
“Like radiation staining?” Goliath said.
“Too short-range,” Faramir answered. “I was thinking infrared, but the problem is getting something in their hearts or on their clothes that will heat up enough to be detectable but not draw attention. If they remove their hearts and they are burning hot, the gig’s up. Same for the clothes. If the reaction—and I’m thinking chemicals here—could be delayed until the hearts are extracted . . .”
“Cain did ask Aclima to wear jewelry,” Helo offered.
“Ask?” Aclima said. “Ordered.”
Faramir brightened. “Well, that helps. A pendant or a bracelet would be perfect. Two reactive chemicals you could activate by breaking a membrane on the inside. Not as good as the hearts, where we have a guarantee you’ll end up where they are, but if Cain’s been so insistent about the jewelry, it’s a good option.”
“I like it,” Goliath said.
“But there’s one more thing,” he said. “Because it’s passive, we’re going to need to have line of sight to find it with an infrared scanner. If we have a boat following the infrared signature around, the gig’s up, too. Surveillance will be tricky, and the reaction won’t last forever.”
“It’s still the best chance we have,” Argyle piped in. “Commendable thinking, Faramir.”
“I agree,” Goliath said. “Get to work on it. We’ll run it by the Medius. There may be other avenues we haven’t thought of. Helo, Aclima, it’s your lives on the line. So is Scarlet’s and the unidentified individual in the video. Tracking carries a risk of detection, and from what you’ve told us, Cain isn’t kind.”
Helo wondered what Cain would do for retribution if he found out. The old bastard had planned this out so carefully, had gone to so much effort to capture Scarlet, that it was hard to believe he would alter the core of his plans if he found out. Then again, rage was rage, and everyone, Cain included, got impulsive when angry. Helo looked at Aclima, and she nodded, giving his hand a squeeze.
“Let’s do it,” she said. “I’m going to provisioning. I’ll catch you back at the room.”
She left, and Helo’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Tela, actually calling him rather than texting. He weighed answering it. As much as he hated it, he had to push Tela away, keep her from getting more attached to him than she already was. He let it ring through, stuffing it back into his pocket.
Corinth strode around a corner, face set like he was about to go battle ten Dreads all by himself. He was dressed in a Michaels uniform, his hair buzzed short. Helo hadn’t seen him since he had gotten blown up in the cabin with the rest of command. What was he doing in Zion Alpha?
Corinth finally saw him, and his eyes widened for a moment. “Helo,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
No man hug. No knuckle bump. Something was up. Not hard to guess what. “Hey, Corinth. You a part of this op?”
He frowned. “You think I wouldn’t be?”
“I thought—”
“You think just because Scarlet’s trying to get you back that I would be all mad and throw her away? Well, I’ve got news for you, Helo. I care about her. I’m going to get her back. You feel me?”
Helo held up his hands. “I’m not standing in your way. I wish you luck.”
“Well,” Corinth said after a pause. “Good. Fine. Just . . . sorry. I’m going to go . . . that way. Sorry, bro.”
Helo watched him stalk away. Corinth had always been a professional womanizer who never seemed to land anywhere. That Scarlet meant so much to him said something.
His phone buzzed. Tela again. She would probably call him every two minutes until he answered, so he did.
“Hey, Tela!”
“Helo,” she said. “Sorry to call you.” Her voice sounded shaky. “Look, Helo, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Dreams again?”
“Just the tree one,” she said. “It was different this time. All the dead roots and branches were the same, but the ending was different. After the two had killed you—well, your tree, the one chopping the roots, saw me. Looked right at me. Came for me. The feeling made me sick. He was covered in blood. Had an ax. I ran but woke up before he caught me. I’ve never been so scared in my life, Helo. Can you please ask if you can take over for Alan? I . . . I kno
w it’s a lot to ask and that you’re all important and stuff, but please?”
Helo was so busy processing what she had dreamed that she had to prompt him again. “Look, Tela, I’ve got another mission coming up soon. As soon as that’s over, I’ll ask, okay?”
“Will it be long?” she asked.
“I hope not.”
“And will Miss Gorgeous be going with you?” she asked.
He smiled weakly. “Yeah.”
“Oh, okay. Say hi to her for me. Promise you’ll ask when you get back.”
“I promise,” he said with a stab of guilt. If they made it through Cain’s wringer, he had promised himself to put his full mind to faking his own death so she could be free.
“Okay,” she said, sounding calmer. “Alan says they found me a small gig to ‘take my mind off things.’ I’ll sing “Never Low” and think of you the whole time. Don’t forget your promise!”
“I won’t,” he said.
Chapter 34
Trunk
After adjusting the oblong platinum cuff links on his designer white shirt so they angled precisely the same on both sides, Helo checked his look in the mirror over the desk. Not a speck of lint befouled the dark coat of his fitted jacket, not a scuff on shoes that probably cost more than his first semester in college. He was almost scared to move for fear of messing up his ensemble.
Looking good—even better than his wedding photo. His tan face and longer hair made him feel like a different person altogether, and Aclima had done a masterful job ensuring that not one strand of his hair was pointed in the wrong direction, even the nasty whorl on the back of his head that had caused his mother so much consternation when he was younger.
Seven forty-five p.m. Fifteen minutes before the meet.
He and Aclima had flown to Seattle and driven the rest of the way to Blaine. While her mood had been light on the plane, the shorter the distance to Blaine, the longer her face had become.
The drizzling, miserable gray of the weather had dropped its additional weight onto their gloom, and Helo didn’t have any jokes to lighten the mood or the heart to tell them even if he did. It was useless to pretend like it would be all right. The only comfort they had was in each other and the knowledge that someone would be trying to find them.
