“Just give us five minutes before you leave, Kieren,” Ryan said as he worked his way into the room. He was leaning heavily on the cane. Trailing behind him was the tiny woman they called Pritti. She entered the room, looking around with big, wide eyes, almost like she was frightened. Then she saw Demyan and hurried over to him. Demyan pulled her up against him, so that he stood at her back.
Kieren crossed his arms as Ryan limped over to him. “This is between the Assemblyman and me, sir.”
Ryan gave him a warm smile. “No one is trying to accuse you of anything, Kieren. You can let down your guard.”
Kieren stood motionless. His jaw rippled.
Ryan’s smile grew warmer and wider. “We know you’re not psi. We’re just curious to know what you are. As far as our awareness of human affairs extends, there has been no one able to do what you did, that was not born psi.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Kieren said.
“He pushed her out of the way of the train,” Pritti said. “I felt it.”
“I was across the road. I did nothing,” Kieren said, his words clipped and tight with control.
“You didn’t push with your hands,” Pritti said, her voice soft and piping in comparison to Kieran’s. “You pushed with your mind. I was guarding the whole area. I felt it.”
Kieren breathed heavily. He shook his head.
“What do you mean, you were guarding the area, Pritti?” Nayara asked.
Pritti seemed to shrink in on herself as she looked at Nayara. Demyan curled his hand around her shoulder reassuringly. “Demyan spoke to me. He said the ruffleheads were attacking, so after I told you, I reached out.” Her eyes were huge and luminous. “I pushed them outside.”
“Outside?” Nayara queried gently. “I don’t understand, Pritti.”
Pritti blinked. Deonne could see she was struggling to find a way to express herself. She glanced around the room, at everyone staring at her and her shoulders shifted inside the coat she wore. She stepped slowly over to the table that was pushed up against the wall next to the sofa Kieren had been sitting on and picked up the glass bowl that sat there. It contained a dozen or so strawberries and grapeberries. “Can I use these?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” Nayara told her.
Pritti dumped the fruit on the table and pushed it around with her fingers. She separated out four strawberries and put them together in a clear section of the table. “That is Demyan, Kieren, Justin.” She glanced at Deonne. “And her.”
She placed some of the green grapeberries around them. “The psi who did that thing to her.”
“There were eight of them?” Ryan asked sharply.
Pritti nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on the table. “They needed that many to make the pictures in her head strong enough.”
“Then it wasn’t Gabriel who did this,” Ryan concluded.
Pritti bit her lip.
“What is it, Pritti? Something about Gabriel?” Nayara coaxed.
Pritti nodded. “He was there with them.”
“Physically?” Nayara asked.
Pritti shook her head.
“Mentally,” Brenden concluded. “Fuck, the guy is going to be impossible to grab if he can command the fucking troops from afar—”
“Brenden!” Ryan said sharply.
Brenden swallowed back the rest of his tirade. He shook his head and dropped onto the sofa where Kieren had been. “The spirits save us,” he muttered.
Nayara stepped a little closer to the table, moving slowly, as if she didn’t want to startle Pritti. “You said you put them outside,” she reminded the tiny woman.
Pritti turned the bowl upside down, then lowered it over the fruit. The strawberries sat underneath the bowl, while the grapeberries were aligned outside the edge of the overturned bowl. “I put them outside,” Pritti repeated. “But they were still too close, so I…” She pushed the bowl so the strawberries were placed more or less in the center of the dome. The grapeberries were pushed along the table by the movement of the bowl, and rolled in wobbling curves across the tabletop as the bowl came to a halt.
Pritti lifted her hands away and stepped back. “They were outside. Everyone else was inside. Safe.”
“A mental shield,” Brenden breathed, staring at the bowl.
One of the grapeberries rolled off the edge of the table and splattered wetly on the tiles beneath. Everyone stared at the bowl, transfixed.
“Are you still holding that shield over us now?” Ryan asked.
Pritti looked like she might cry. She shook her head. “It hurts too much,” she said softly.
Demyan reached and picked up her hand and drew her back to where he had been standing. He glared at everyone as he wrapped his arm across her chest in a protective movement. The gesture was as clear as a shout. He didn’t want Pritti subjected to any more questioning.
Justin stood up. “We could dig around this all night and not get anywhere. Kieren won’t talk, Deonne can’t talk, because she didn’t see anything except Switzerland in her mind. Demyan and I have been fully debriefed. I want Deonne returned to the past, where she’s safe. You have no need of her right now.” He turned to Demyan. “Would you mind jumping Deonne? I will stay with Pritti until you get back.”
Demyan’s arm loosened. “Of course,” he agreed.
Everyone in the room except for Nayara shifted and relaxed, standing up or moving toward the door. It appeared they agreed with Justin. There was nothing useful to be gained by talking this over any further.
“Just wait a moment,” Ryan said, lifting his voice above everyone’s movements.
They grew still, looking at him, but Ryan was staring at Justin.
“Deonne is going back,” Justin said evenly. “Out of harm’s way. If you have a problem with that, then you can take it up with me. After she has left.”
Ryan considered it for nearly thirty seconds. “Very well,” he said flatly.
Justin turned and held his hand out to Deonne. “C’mon, Dee. Let’s get you home.”
She let him help her to her feet, feeling a deep weariness in her bones. She was aware that everyone was watching her. Measuring her and reassessing now that Justin had openly championed her.
Deonne paused in front of Pritti. “Thank you for your help, Pritti. I didn’t know until now how much you did for us, back there. I am in your debt.”
Pritti tilted her head and looked up at Deonne. “He wants you gone,” she said softly. “He doesn’t like what you can do.”
Deonne’s chest clamped, stopping her breath. She could feel and hear her heart, thundering in her temples. “Who?” she asked breathlessly, but she already knew. Gabriel. “I can’t do anything. Not like vampires can. Or that you can. Why would he want me gone?”
“You scare him,” Pritti whispered. “What you do…he can’t control that.”
“Too many people,” Demyan added. “Is that what you mean, Pritti? Deonne controls the media, which speaks to masses. He can’t reach them all. He can’t reverse her influence.”
Pritti nodded. “He was glad you were going to die.”
Deonne drew in a shaking breath and looked at Justin. “I’m hurting him. Me.”
Justin shook his head. “Not anymore. Not for a while. You’re leaving. Right now. Demyan?”
“Coming,” Demyan assured him, picking up Pritti’s hand.
No one protested, this time.
* * * * *
Deonne found strength returning to her as she moved through the agency, back to the conference room to collect her carrysack. Justin stayed by her side, although he didn’t speak.
Once she had all her belongings, including the twenty-first century clothing she had arrived wearing, he guided her to where Demyan sat waiting in the glass-fronted foyer, with Pritti beside him, her white dress glowing in the bright noon light.
It was only midday. Deonne felt like it should be twilight at least…it had been an extraordinarily long day already.
Demyan stood up as they
approached.
“Give me a moment,” Justin murmured.
Demyan nodded and turned to face the windows and the view outside. Pritti stayed seated, her gaze upon them steady and frank.
Justin tugged Deonne closer to the far corner of the room, where a thick pillar gave them partial privacy. He rested his hands on her waist, his eyes steady on her face. “There’s so much I could say.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek bone and the gentleness in his caress made her eyes sting.
“I don’t want to leave,” Deonne confessed. She dared to rest her hands on his chest. “Not alone.”
Justin shook his head. “I can’t go back in time. I won’t, even to be with you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Dangerous? They’re trying to kill me here in this century. China is…boring. Bucolic and over-zenned. How can it possibly be dangerous?”
Justin’s expression told her that he wished he hadn’t spoken.
“Why is going back in time dangerous, Justin?” she asked, keeping her tone reasonable.
He pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’re safe there and I won’t rest easy until you’re back there.”
“But—”
His lips blocked her protest and Deonne sighed into his mouth as she let herself float into the kiss. In the back of her mind, she acknowledged that this kiss would have to last for the lonely weeks ahead.
Justin rested his head against hers, his eyes closed. “I’m glad you came to visit.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say in response, because all she wanted to do was cling to him and never let go. Deliberately, she stepped away from him, breaking his hold on her waist. “I wish it was more than a visit.”
He drew in a slow, deep breath. “So do I.” His lips parted, as if he were about to say more, but instead, he turned and beckoned Demyan over. “Take care of her.”
“Of course,” Demyan said, sounding offended. He glanced over his shoulder. “Would you…do you mind waiting here with Pritti? She doesn’t want to go back to the others.”
“I don’t want to go back, either.” Justin gave Pritti a smile. “We’ll just sit and wait.”
“I’ll jump back here.” Demyan stepped closer to Deonne. He was shorter than her, but only by an inch or so. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Deonne lied. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at Justin over his shoulder. “You’d better miss me, Kelly.”
His expression shifted, as some emotion she wasn’t able to identify fast enough crossed his face. “I already do,” he said bleakly.
SEGUNDA PARTE
Chapter Twelve
Macapá, Brazil, 2264 A.D.: Brenden refused to allow Stelios to visit the caverns, stubbornly insisting upon maintaining the integrity of their mountain shield. “As soon as you let a human in here then let him out again, we’re exposed. I won’t allow it,” he’d growled.
So twenty-four hours later, Ryan and Nayara found themselves aboard the American circle train, crossing through the Amazon jungle toward Macapá, on the coast of Brazil. The Worlds Assembly was located in Macapá, at the base of Earth’s original beanstalk. This stalk had been built on the equator, to minimize Coriolis forces. Ninety years later, when more was understood about beanstalk technology, the Sydney stalk had been built to service the commercial traffic to and from Earth. The old Macapá stalk was reserved purely for diplomats and government business.
Macapá had grown into a sprawling western city. Where once it had survived by mining local resources and faced extinction when all mining had been banned around the globe, now it thrived on the business of government and all the supporting industry that surrounded it. The Brazilians, already polyglot users of English, Spanish and Portuguese, found themselves useful greasers of wheels and spinners of deals.
The great circle train ran daily from western Canada, down along the spine of the Rockies into Mexico, and through Central America before swinging east and following the Amazon’s trail to the city. It took twelve hours to make the journey south and the other twelve hours to return to Jasper, with only six stops at major cities along the way.
But they reached Macapá just on nightfall and were spared the belting heat of the day when they emerged from the massive station. The station was located on the south side of the Amazon mouth, right across the water from the Worlds Assembly building, which was lit up and glowing golden in the early evening. Behind it, the base of the beanstalk rose up into the inky black night.
“The Assembly is still in session,” Ryan said. “We’ll go straight there.”
Nayara looked around, a smile on her face. “It’s fabulous!” she exclaimed loudly. “Look at all the lights!” She caught his eye and gave a tiny shake of her head.
Satisfied they were not being followed, he headed for the water taxi dock across the road, shrugging off his coat.
The water taxi was a pitted, ancient steel-hulled craft, but the hemi-fusion motor pushed it across the muddy headwaters at a satisfying speed. The driver wasn’t curious or chatty and left them alone at the transom.
A tram took them from the river’s edge and deposited them at the foot of the imposing Assembly building. Ryan stretched, a hand at the small of his back. “Days like this give me a fresh appreciation for the benefits of jumping.”
“It’s not over yet.” Nayara tugged at her own human street clothes and quickly coiled her hair into a neat, business-like chignon. “Let’s tackle the gatekeepers.”
* * * * *
Assembly sessions could run for longer than twenty-four hours at a stretch. Many of the Assembly members came from the off-worlds and preferred to conclude business in a few marathon sittings, especially those members from the two worlds with lighter gravity than Earth’s.
So Nayara and Ryan found themselves kicking their heels in Cáel’s outer office, while his puzzled assistant delivered a note by hand to Cáel, at his place in the main chamber. Nayara convinced the assistant not to use an electronic device to alert Cáel, while giving away nothing of their true identities.
The assistant returned barely twenty minutes later. “He will be with you shortly,” the assistant said. “The Assemblyman has to vote, first.”
It was nearly an hour later when the door to the office suit swung open. Cáel strode through, his head down, reading a board with tunnel-vision focus. He wore formal robes that were the epitome of style, but his chin was dark with growth and his eyes red.
“Assemblyman,” Ryan said, his voice and expression both those of a stranger.
Cáel looked up, frowning. Then he nodded with cool politeness. He glanced at his assistant. “Remember their faces. These people are to have direct access to me, whenever they request it.”
The assistant lifted a brow. “I will remember,” he said with dignity. He nodded towards Ryan and Nayara, walked to another door and shut it behind him.
Cáel beckoned with his fingers for them to follow him. He led them through tall double doors and shut the massive doors behind them.
The room they had stepped into was airy, with long, slender windows that looked out upon the hills and jungle that hugged the edges of the city. The windows were polarized, but they were set to clear right now, giving an unobstructed and unfiltered view.
There was a large automated desk to one side of the big room, strategically placed to take advantage of the view, yet still be able to see the doors. Cáel dropped the board on the desktop, where other boards were stacked, and turned to face them. “This room is sound-proof, bug-proofed and was swept just this morning.”
“Can you trust your assistant?” Ryan asked.
“He’s bonded and certified. He’s also my great nephew.” Cáel gave a tight smile. “You are both here,” he said flatly.
“With reason,” Ryan replied.
“It had better be a stupendous reason,” Cáel said, anger tinging his voice. “Of all the idiotic stunts…how did you two get to be a thousand years old? If Gabriel learned tha
t we were all standing in this room together—”
“We made sure we weren’t followed,” Nayara told him, “and as you can see, we’re passing as human for this trip. No one took any notice of us.”
“Who is minding the agency while you’re both here?” Cáel demanded. “Who is protecting them?”
Nayara moved close to him and touched his lips. “We missed you, too, Cáel.”
“Damn it to hell,” Cáel muttered and pulled her against him. He thrust his hand into her hair and kissed her. Nayara clung to him, making no move to halt the kiss or his hand as it smoothed its way up the length of her torso.
Cáel finally lifted his mouth from hers to look at Ryan. “Come here,” he said, his voice hoarse, and held out his arm.
Ryan made his way across the floor to where they stood close by the desk. He wasn’t using the cane, and his progress was uneven and shuffling.
Cáel’s hand lowered slowly as he watched Ryan’s limping gait. When Ryan reached them, Cáel swallowed. “I’ll kill Gabriel myself, for this,” he said roughly.
Ryan touched Cáel’s cheek. “Join the queue.”
Cáel pulled Ryan to him with one hand and kissed him. It was a thorough kiss—as thorough as it could be when he still had one arm around Nayara’s waist.
Nayara reached for the fastenings on Cáel’s robes and slipped them undone.
Cáel pulled his mouth away from Ryan’s, to look down at his chest as Nayara pushed the robes aside. Her fingers rested against the Tree of Life medallion lying against his flesh.
“You said the room was sound-proof, didn’t you?” Nayara asked Cáel.
“I did,” Cáel agreed.
Ryan pulled the robe from Cáel’s shoulders then reached for his trousers. “And bug-proof,” he added.
“I thought the matter that brought you here was urgent?” Cáel asked as the pair of them swiftly undressed him. His cock jutted proudly, stiff and red with anticipation.
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