There All Along

by Lauren Dane

  Rehker caught her by the ankle at the last moment, dragging her back. “No. Get back here. You need to help me with this. It doesn’t work.”

  She kicked at him, but he dug his fingers into the soft meat of her leg below the muscles. The pain was instant. She kept herself from screaming only by biting her tongue. He grabbed her by the hair with his other hand, yanking her to her feet. The leg he’d grabbed buckled, but Rehker kept her upright.

  “You need to make it work,” he said into her ear as he marched her toward the control panel.

  “The power’s out—”

  “I know that, you stupid kilta. I cut the wires to the solar cells for everything, including the lamp. All except the one to the control panel. I need access to it.”

  Teila tried to focus, but all she could think about was getting back to her son. “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. Nobody could. They put it all into my brain, my brain. Of course your lover, the Rav Gadol, he thinks he might understand, he thinks he could figure it out, him and his Mothers-forsaken data stream. Oh, by the Three did I get sick from listening to him whinge about it. He. Knows. Nothing.”

  He shook her. “Make this work!”

  “I can’t see it!” she cried, furious and terrified. “My eyes don’t work in the dark like yours do.”

  He stilled. “Of course. Of course. Here.”

  Without letting go of her, he shuffled with his robes. She heard the distinctive crack of a handlight and then the glow. It was so bright after being so dark that she threw up a hand in front of her eyes. In that flash, she caught sight of his face.

  It had changed. Rehker had always been a handsome man. Charming with it, knowing he had a face that could get him whatever he wanted. Out here in the lighthouse his appearance hadn’t been as beneficial to him as it might’ve been in other places—Teila had turned down his advances, one after the other, since his arrival, but since she’d never treated any of her clients any differently no matter her level of fondness for them, the only suffering he’d felt had been in his imagination. He’d stopped trying to seduce her after one late dinner when the others had all gone to bed and she’d allowed herself the luxury of one too many glasses of beer. She’d been silly. He’d been insistent. He’d tried to kiss her and she turned her head at the last moment, her hand on his chest to keep him from coming closer.

  It had been enough at the time. He’d never bothered her again, at least not beyond the flirtation that had been his interaction with any female in the lighthouse. He’d taken up briefly with a woman who’d stayed for only a cycle before she’d deteriorated so badly she’d had to be moved to a full-service facility.

  His handsome mouth had pulled down on one side in a grimace that didn’t seem intentional. His lips didn’t move right when he spoke, giving him a slur. The eye on that side of his face drooped as well. He didn’t seem to notice, but the shock of it made Teila gasp.

  “What?” Rehker asked. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Your face.”

  He touched it, fingers exploring the sagging skin. The unaffected side of his face hardened. The lighter in his other hand flickered and went out, and Teila realized he’d let her go. He realized it too, and grabbed at her again before she could get away. His grip seemed looser with this hand, the one on the same side as the other changes.

  “They did something to you,” she told him. “Something in your brain. You need medical attention, Rehker. And soon.”

  He managed a sneer. “From who? The medprogram’s down and even if it were up, all it could do is diagnose me and tell you I need to be seen by a medicus. You think the government would help me? No. They will help me. They’ll fix me. Once they come for me.”

  “Who?” she cried.

  “The Wirthera.” The lighter flicked on again, highlighting his even further ravaged face. Now a silver string of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. The hand gripping her loosened. “I’m calling them.”

  32

  Up the stairs, two at a time, Jodah pushed himself to the limits of his speed. On the top floor he went first to Teila’s room, where he found the boy lying in sweat-damp sheets, limbs sprawled. His breathing was shallow his pulse thready.

  “Mothers,” Jodah breathed, cradling Stephin to him. “Please, let me figure out how to help him.”

  But no matter how he tried, the data stream remained inaccessible, just out of reach. He laid the boy gently down and searched the room for Teila, but she wasn’t there. He listened for her, though she was no longer screaming.

  The lamp room. He heard both her and Rehker, their voices low and indistinct but definitely theirs. Jodah gave the boy one last checking over, then ran for the stairs.

  He burst into the lamp room to find Rehker bent over Teila, her hands moving rapidly along the buttons and switches of the control panel as Rehker held up a burning lighter. At the glare of Jodah’s handlight, Teila turned with a cry of relief, but Rehker shoved the light into her face.

  “Work!” he screamed almost unintelligibly. Saliva spattered. He glared at Jodah from one rolling eye, the other narrowed. His mouth had twisted into a curved sneer.

  Jodah didn’t think. He moved. He tore Rehker away from Teila and threw the other man to the floor hard enough to make the metal floorboards ring. Then he fell upon him with his fists and feet. From behind him, Teila let out a shout as the control panel whirred to life.

  Rehker fought like a wild thing, writhing and biting. One hand caught the edge of Jodah’s jaw, sending him back enough for Rehker to get a foot up, kicking Jodah in the chest. The other hand swung ineffectually, the fingers limp. Jodah caught it and crushed it in his own while Rehker howled.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. That kilta got it working. They’re coming for me. I called them and they’re coming!” Rehker collapsed in Jodah’s hands, no longer fighting.

  Jodah looked at Teila, who stood frozen next to the control panel. “What’s he talking about?”

  “The Wirthera. He says he rigged some sort of signal to alert them to where he was, so they can take him back.” Her fingers moved over the controls swiftly, flipping switches and toggles.

  “Don’t! You can’t let them!” Jodah shouted.

  She didn’t even glance back at him, her attention on the panel in front of her. “The lamp. We need the lamp, there’s a ship out there!”

  Rehker writhed free of Jodah’s grip, falling to his knees with a howl. Both hands gripped his head as he shook it. His scream became a piercing shriek that went up and up until he choked on it. He went to the floor, his body arching so impossibly far it seemed he’d break his own back. His feet thudded on the metal floor.

  “What’s happening?” Teila cried.

  The lamp glowed dimly, barely lit, before going dark again. From the base came a low vibration that faded immediately. Teila cursed and bent back to the controls while Rehker convulsed. Jodah knelt next to him, putting his hands on the other man’s shoulders to still him. It didn’t work. If anything, Jodah’s touch exacerbated Rehker’s writhing. He’d begun muttering a string of senseless words over and over, getting louder and more vehement.

  Not senseless words. Jodah knew the sound of them, and they made him cold. Rehker was speaking Wirtheran. Jodah didn’t know what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. He backed away like the man had burst into flames.

  “What did he do to that control panel, Teila?”

  With a hitch in her voice she answered, “I don’t know. He kept the power connected to it but somehow not the lamp, which I’d have said was impossible. He arranged some sort of signal with the outgoing network, and it’s hooked into the lamp controls. But I can’t figure it out, and Stephin needs me . . .”

  “You go,” he told her. “I’ll get the lamp running. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll take care of Rehker.”

&
nbsp; She didn’t hesitate, just took the handlight and ran from the room. Leaving Rehker on the floor, Jodah went to the control panel. It looked simple enough, aside from the tangle of wires spilling everywhere. Teila had done something to it, but not enough. Thinking quickly, not sure where the knowledge was coming from, he untangled them. Two wires spit sparks at him as he did, and he twisted them together as the shock tore through him. His nerves sizzled, colors bloomed in his vision, and the stink of electricity bloomed in his nose along with the coarser stench of burning hair.

  The lamp came on.

  “Noooooo!” Rehker shrieked. “You’ve ruined it!”

  Jodah turned with both bleeding and burned palms held in front of him as Rehker launched himself toward him. He caught the other man by the front of his robes, the pain in his hands somehow distant. As Rehker snapped his teeth in Jodah’s face, the lamp’s bright white light spun past them. It blinded Jodah in those few moments, long enough for Rehker to dive at his throat and gouge out a mouthful of flesh.

  That was the end. Jodah did not go blank—everything became as sharp and clear and white as the now-turning lamp. His fists came up.

  Rehker went down.

  In moments he was still, and Jodah gave him no more attention. He ran down the stairs toward Teila’s room and burst inside. Lit by the amber glow from the handlight, her face was streaked with tears and blood. She looked up at him as he came in, the boy in her arms.

  “Kason,” she said in a moan that raised the hair on the back of his neck. “Oh, Kason. Our son is gone.”

  All at once, everything came back to him.

  33

  She’d lost him. Teila held her son in her arms, willing him to breathe and unable to make him. The man in front of her staggered forward, going to his knees in front of her with a low, moaning sob.

  “No,” he said. “No. He’s not gone.”

  Her own sobs came then, stealing her voice. She reached for him. He pulled her close, one of his hands on Stephin’s chest. He looked into her eyes.

  “Teila, I can save him. But you have to trust me.” He kissed her swiftly, saying against her mouth, “I remember.”

  She gasped and choked, her grief too vast for any amount of joy to find its way in. When he tried to take the boy from her arms, she couldn’t even find the strength to fight him. He lifted Stephin gently and moved toward the door.

  “Come on,” he told her. “You can make it, Teila. You’re strong enough. Come on.”

  The lights came on as she reached the hallway. The brightness hurt her eyes, but even squinting against it she kept moving after him. Down the stairs, along the corridor, to the kitchen where Kason laid Stephin on the bloodstained kitchen table.

  Billis burst through the back door. “I fixed the—Is he dead?”

  “Salt,” Kason barked, arranging Stephin’s limbs into straight lines. “As much as you can find. A barrel of it, if you have one.”

  They did, of course, for storing the milka in. Several barrels, as a matter of fact, in the store room. Billis ran at once to bring one while Teila moved to the table. Every part of her ached and stung and the world threatened to spin out from beneath her feet. She clung to the table edge, head down, unable to do more than that.

  “Water,” Kason said. “Make a paste. Cover him with it. It will draw out the poison.”

  Billis moved to help him while all Teila could do was take up her son’s limp and lifeless hand. “It’s too late, Kason.”

  “No. The data stream,” he said. “I know how to do this.”

  With the water and the salt, Kason made a thick paste and covered as much of Stephin’s skin as possible, even tucking some onto the boy’s tongue. Then he tipped the boy’s head back and positioned his mouth over Stephin’s and blew hard enough to raise the boy’s chest. Then again. Again. Teila could only watch, horrified and overrun with grief.

  Kason worked for a long time, many heartbeats, too many to count. Until at last, defeated, he sagged into a chair with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I failed.”

  Teila couldn’t speak. She took her son’s hand with both of hers and brought it to her lips. Her tears wet the gritty paste covering his skin. She tasted salt and the sting of whale oil beneath that.

  Let me die from it, she thought, numb. Let it kill me, too.

  From the corner, Billis began to cry. At her side, her husband buried his face against her. Teila wept without sound.

  In front of her, Stephin opened his mouth and let out a long, choking cough.

  34

  Her husband touched her with slow but certain hands. Smoothing fingers up the backs of her calves, the insides of her thighs. He teased her soft flesh, stroking along her seam and parting it to slip inside. His thumb pressed her clit as the heat of his breath caressed her. Teasing.

  “Kason.” Pleasure pushed his name to her lips, intensified by the simple ability to use it without fear. She breathed it out with every sigh. “Kason, Kason, Kason . . .”

  His murmured laughter sent shivers of desire pulsing through her as his lips found her clit. Then, his tongue. He worked her body with his mouth and fingers until she arched and shuddered under him. But he didn’t let her go over. No, he knew her better than that.

  Easing off, he kept her on the edge until everything else faded away but his touch. Teila lost herself in it, greedy and not ashamed to urge him with the lift of her hips, her gasps, the tug of her fingers in his hair. She gave herself up to him even as she demanded more from him. And he gave it to her. He gave her everything.

  Her orgasm rippled through her, tickling and then coming in a rush. She bucked helplessly against the waves of pleasure devouring her. It consumed her. She went up in flames and became her own fiery sun.

  “I know why the poets call climax ‘joining the sun’,” she said lazily when she’d found her voice again. Her fingers threaded through his hair.

  Kason had rested his head on her belly, his hand still cupping between her legs. He looked up at her with mischievous eyes, his mouth still wet from her arousal. “Oh?”

  “Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “Yes.”

  She pulled him to her mouth, open for his kiss, and sucked his tongue. She licked him with feathery strokes and nibbled his chin, his jaw. She pressed her mouth to the beat of pulse in his throat. She dug her nails into the muscles of his ass and urged him to press his cock against her.

  “Yes?” Kason asked. “This?”

  He rubbed his cock back and forth over her clit, sliding with ease from her slickness. It seemed impossible that she could rise to pleasure again, but he took his time until both of them were shuddering and she ached with an emptiness she desperately needed him to fill. Yet still he teased her, though the muscles on his arms corded with effort and a thin sheen of sweat coated him.

  Teila opened herself to him as he moved, and though Kason might’ve intended to keep on stroking his cock over her, she’d tilted her body at just the right angle to urge him inside with nothing more than a well-placed wriggle. He laughed and groaned at her trick, but seated himself balls deep. He kissed her, long and wet, not moving anything but his mouth. The beat of his heart thumped against her, and she clung to him, tight.

  “I love you,” she said. “I love you, love you, love you.”

  “And I love you, wife,” he murmured between kisses.

  With him filling her, all she had to do was tighten her internal muscles to bring them both another wave of pleasure. She laughed at his groan and sighed at his shudder. Hooking her heels behind his calves, Teila ran her nails lightly down his back, urging him to fuck into her. He didn’t at first, resisting, but with another shift, another squeeze, he gave in at last.

  He moved. She sighed, her hips rocking. They made love for a long time, slow and steady, until once more she could n
o longer hold back the fire inside her. No explosion this time, more a steady growing flame that eventually consumed her. Consumed them both.

  Shaking, Kason kissed her as he spent himself. He crushed her with his full weight for a moment or so, but then slid to the side to cradle her against him. He nuzzled into the hollow of her shoulder.

  “I could stay here forever. Never get up,” he said.

  She stroked his hair. “I would let you, sweetheart. But the lamp . . .”

  He sighed, put-upon, but she knew he didn’t mean it. He looked up at her with a faint grin. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

  “Oh, you.” She knuckled his side, which turned into him pinning her arms above her head . . . which became him kissing her breathless.

  With his hand flat on her belly, Kason propped himself on one elbow. “You stay in bed. I’ll check the lamp. You need your rest.”

  She gave him a lifted brow. “I appreciate the sentiment, husband, but somehow the time we’ve just spent doesn’t reflect that attitude very well. In fact, it sounds like more of an excuse simply to keep me abed for your own pleasure.”

  “Guilty,” he told her, then slid down her body to kiss her stomach and the slightest of bulges there. “But there’s this, as well. Tell me, Teila. You feel all right?”

  She didn’t laugh at his concern. “Yes, sweetheart. I feel totally fine. I’m all right.”

  He moved to kiss her mouth again. “Because we could have a medicus come—”

  “I’ve seen one.” They’d all seen one after the horror with Rehker and Pera and poor Venga. Vikus would need months of care but was well on his way to recovery, and Stephin’s blisters had left scars that were slow to heal.

  She’d known before the exam, of course, that she carried Kason’s child. But it had relieved her fears to know that the medicus had found nothing wrong with her or the child swimming inside her. Rehker’s abuse hadn’t harmed either of them, but against her and Kason’s wishes, the Rav Aluf and the SDF had used his story as a further example about the horrors of the Wirthera. They were out there, she believed that. But she’d become unconvinced that sacrificing Sheirran citizens in the constant fight was effective, or would ever be.