“That would be very hard to unravel, Kipp,” I replied. “But it is a logical conclusion to draw and not a unique dilemma for the human species.” I was increasingly concerned with Elani, who seemed withdrawn, preoccupied, even brooding, and such a state was uncommon in my lupine brethren, but especially so with her.
As if she was peeking in on the workings of my brain, which she wasn’t, she perceived my worried thoughts directed at her. I attributed that to her sensitivity in general as well as familiarity bred from time spent in adventures and adversity. Elani raised her massive head, her dark eyes meeting mine across the narrow expanse of the parlor. For a moment, the sunlight faltered as a cloud passed across its trajectory, only to reignite a moment later, brighter and more golden than before, the rays filtering through the fine particles of dust that floated in the air.
“I’m okay, Petra,” she began.
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, his words coming out in a rush. His query was immediately followed with chagrin and worry that he’d missed something critical with his partner. After all, he should have been more tuned into her than would I. Kipp also seemed momentarily confused, a rare position for him to occupy.
“Elani?” I asked. After all, it was her job to discuss her feelings and experiences, not mine to explain them for her.
She sighed deeply, stood, stretched to and fro, before resettling herself a little closer to the heater. The warmth from the coal fire radiated out into the parlor; the ripples in the waves of light were clearly visible as the heat shifted through the different levels of air in the room. I heard loud voices outside the front window as some men engaged in an altercation, but I was too concerned with Elani to pay them any mind.
“I had an odd experience that left me feeling disturbed,” she began. Elani looked at Peter, who was wearing an expression of remorse, clearly upset he’d not been paying attention to her thoughts. “And it’s okay, Peter. I’m actually glad you weren’t hovering in my thoughts since I needed space to process what happened.”
“What did happen, Elani?” Kipp asked. “We are a safe place, you know.” He was not speaking as her supervisor but as a friend. It might have been my imagination, but I think his eyes softened a little as he watched her.
“When John Wilkes Booth reached out and stroked the top of my head, I had a flash of complete understanding of him. His feelings, thoughts…all the elements that made him who he is, rushed through me.” She searched for words. “I had no control over it, and his bad, angry, evil thoughts almost overwhelmed me.” Elani’s eyes met mine. “If I’d been humanoid, I would have cried.”
“So, it was conveyed through his touch?” I asked. “You weren’t making any effort, such as the one Kipp was engaging, to read his thoughts?”
“No, I wasn’t at all.” Her distress was palpable, filling the room with feelings of anxiety and tentativeness. “I didn’t like it because I couldn’t stop it.”
Kipp was unusually quiet, and I felt him retreat from me as his brain began to make calculations, firing on all cylinders. Peter, meantime, was silent, too, still trying to decide if he’d failed her in some enormous way.
“Do you remember when we went to contemporary Atlanta in our preparatory trip to locate the original setting of the train depot from which the General would depart?” Kipp asked, looking around at all of us before settling on Elani. She nodded her head. “You had an odd experience where, when you made contact with the ground, you had flashes of the people who’d lived there, walked on that earth, in the past.” Elani nodded her head again.
“What are you thinking, Kipp?” I asked.
“Maybe there is some ability in symbionts—perhaps in only the lupine tree—to obtain the information I get from my deep dive into thoughts from physical contact.” Kipp looked at me. “There has to be, or else how do you explain this skill that Elani seems to have? I know I don’t have it to her degree and can only minimally pick up impressions from a locale, so perhaps it is genetic, passed down through her family line.”
“Would that be normal?” Elani stared at Kipp. “Or is there something…wrong with me?”
“No, Elani. It would mean that we continue to discover talents of our species that have been hidden due to all the rules and regulations placed to constrain us in the modern world.” Kipp looked up, his eyes passively examining the cracks in the ceiling overhead, as he searched for an analogy. “Are there not humans who seem to have talents that vary from the norm, and historically those humans were set apart because others felt their talents were aberrant or even demonic in nature? And there may be incidents in the recorded history of our kind, but it just hasn’t been shared because no one asked.”
Elani looked away from us, obviously hesitating, not sure if she should share what was lingering in her tangled thoughts. I shook off Peter’s glance, warning him to let her make her way carefully.
“This wasn’t the first time,” Elani finally said, letting out a deep breath she’d been holding. “It has happened to me since I was a pup, but my mother told me to never say anything about it. She was afraid that I’d be in trouble with the collective.”
“Have you had it with us…me?” I asked.
“Yes, it starts, but I learned to block it with symbionts when I was a youngster. I don’t allow it to proceed because, well, I wasn’t sure that it was acceptable. It almost gives me an unfair advantage over others.” Her dark eyes met mine. “And especially with symbionts, since it would be intrusive and perceived as an aggressive act.”
“Did anyone else in your family have such a skill?” Peter asked what to him seemed to be a safe question.
“My parents and siblings, no, but my mother told me that her mother had the skill. She said her mother, who I never knew, said she could feel the life force in others by her touch. It must have caused a great deal of trouble for the family because my mother was very guarded about it.” She hesitated, her eyes clouded momentarily with the memory. “When I pressed her, she became angry, so I would stop asking questions. The only thing she ever said was that her mother had referred to the experience as the kaleidoscope.” She answered the unasked question. “For me, it’s almost like flashes of light, sensations, and impressions that are constantly moving before they fall into order and make sense.”
“Elani, are you willing to experiment a little with this while we are on this time-shift?” I asked. “Since, as Kipp says, we are safe, this would be a good time to determine the limits of your abilities.”
She glanced at Peter, who was still trying to process what had taken place. “Peter, you are my partner. What do you think?”
He cleared his throat, delaying for a moment as he considered how to reply. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingers through the dark mop of hair that tended to fall down over his eyes, combing it into place. The gold watch chain that was secured to his grandfather’s pocket watch stretched across his lower chest, the bright links catching the light from the windows. I noticed he’d, over time, developed an endearing habit of lightly fingering the chain, much as I did Harrow’s beloved strand of pearls. The touch of my fingers against the pearls was soothing, and I figured Peter obtained the same sense of grounding and security when he was connected to his family of origin through a cherished object.
“Elani, I trust you implicitly,” he replied. “I think if you have some ability that is rare but natural for you, it would be important to explore it…that is, if you wish.”
“I would like to, but I think I need to learn how to control it,” Elani replied, after a moment of deliberation.
“Are you willing to explore it now?” Kipp asked.
“Yes.” Her dark eyes met his.
I was curious as to what Kipp had in mind. With Kipp, I could never be sure.
“Petra, I want you to caress Elani’s head, just as did Booth, and let her see if she has a flood of impressions.” Kipp was all manager at that point, directing the action. But I trusted him and Elani and was willing to follow where he led.<
br />
Elani was warm, her body huddled in front of the heater; I rose and went to her, crouching at her side. Leaning in, I rested my hands on her broad head. The warmth from her fur was wonderful against my fingers, which seemed to be taking a long time to regain any feeling after our early morning arrival.
“You’re like a little warm brick,” I said, grinning at her. Her tail wagged in response.
“Don’t force it,” Kipp directed.
“I’ve got this,” Elani replied, her tone a little sharp as she glared at Kipp.
We stayed like that, my fingers enjoying the warmth of her fur, for a minute. Finally, she sighed.
“I’d like to say I’m surprised by you, Petra, but I’m not. You’re the same symbiont I’ve grown to know and love.”
It was an odd sensation for me. I’d had fellow symbionts intrude aggressively in my mind, and I knew the sting of that sort of violation which was considered obscene in our world. What had evolved in contemporary times was a flow of surface thoughts between telepaths, asking for permission to go deeper…the exception being my relationship with Kipp, which had no boundaries. But when I touched Elani, I felt no such sensation of her burrowing into my being, and instead it was as if I melted, relaxed, and she was like a gentle wind blowing against my flesh, subtle and cooling. There is nothing else in my experience that compared to that moment. And then it ended.
“What did you get?” I had to know.
“I saw your childhood…your love for your parents was like sunshine, all warmth and safety. And there were impressions of you running across a pasture thick with green grass; you were laughing and playing with another one of your age. It was a happy moment. I even got the sensation of how the grass felt against your bare feet, cool, damp, organic. Then there was your son…” her voice drifted off. “I tried not to linger there.” She turned her large, gray head and glanced away as she collected her thoughts. “So, from viewing the kaleidoscope of your experiences, both good and bad, it all fell into place, and I believe I understand your core.”
Kipp rose and walked over to her, then took up position at her side. “Me next.”
Elani’s dark eyes widened, but she kept her expression composed. I understood immediately what she felt…the notion of her beloved one lying close and touching her was pretty intoxicating. It was with effort I focused on the moment, not allowing myself to recall being in Harrow’s arms. But since we were in the middle of a quasi-scientific experiment, Elani tried to remain business-like. Kipp gently rested his muzzle along her shoulder, and they stayed like that, breathing in concert, for a minute. Her eyes drifted shut as she relaxed. As the heater cranked out waves of warmth to drift across the parlor, I watched the two of them, one with a ruddy, auburn coat, almost mingled with the pixie dust ethereal gray of the other, completely at ease with one another for once, as the tension of uncertainty disappeared. After a couple of minutes, Elani raised her head as Kipp gently edged away from her body. I lifted my eyebrows in query.
“I gathered distinct impressions of when Kipp was a puppy and how he felt about his mother, his pain and, well, fear, when she died and left him alone. He always yearns for her, on some level, as well as his father. After his father went missing, he felt responsible to be strong and brave for his mother. And his amazement as well as relief upon finding you, Petra, his utter loyalty and love for you is like no other I’ve seen.” Elani paused. “It was harder with Kipp, and I’m not sure if that is because he is a fellow lupine or due to his personality construction.”
Or because you are in love with him, I thought to myself, glad that Kipp, momentarily, was not actively monitoring my brain. “I doubt you need to repeat this with Peter,” I remarked. “With the amount of contact you’ve had in bonding, you would have reflexively had to explore him.”
Elani nodded, and the room fell quiet, the only noise coming from the streets. There was an escalation of the sounds, and Peter walked to the window to view the street below.
“There are drovers herding cattle,” he remarked almost offhandedly. “Going to the mall to be held for the war effort.” Peter laughed softly. “The beasts escaped from the main herd, and the men have been after them, going up and down side streets trying to get them back in control. To say they are unhappy is an understatement.”
I knew he was trying to change the tone of the room, but there was business to be settled. “Let’s talk about the ethics of this, Elani. Your ability, in my view, is no more of a potential violation of another than is our telepathy. I have experienced the intrusive, violent type of telepathy that was inflicted upon me where another symbiont went into my mind and tore my thoughts from me.” I glanced at Kipp, who nodded his head. “Fortunately, Kipp was there to block that process and rescue me.”
“When did this happen?” Elani asked.
“During a trip to Tombstone,” I replied. “But I’ve experienced other unethical intrusions in my lifetime, too. Such occurences are partially why symbionts are required to gain permission to access one another’s thoughts. It’s almost like knocking on a door before entering.”
“You and Kipp don’t do that with one another,” she replied. “You are constantly in each other’s thoughts.”
“Yes, because we made a decision to follow the actions that would be normal for Kipp. And now I can’t imagine him not having complete access to my mind. When he removes himself, I feel as if part of my soul is missing.” As I spoke, I realized the truth of what I said and how integral Kipp had become to my life. As great as had been my love for my former partner, Tula, my relationship with Kipp was different in that it eclipsed love and trust to go even further to a place difficult to define. “But Elani, if you think about it, you’ve had the self-control to block this intrusion with your peers, so it is no different than if I choose to not, let’s say, force myself into the hidden thoughts of Philo. You’ve been doing the, uh, right thing, all along.”
She visibly relaxed at my words, and almost as if she wanted to reassure us that she was okay, she began to groom her forepaws with a pink tongue. That didn’t last long because another issue was growing in her mind. “Peter, I think we will make a stronger team if we work to develop the type of relationship that Kipp and Petra have with each other.” Her eyes met his across the room. “It follows what is natural for us as a species, and I think if we make the choice to be bonded and travel and engage in dangerous work, we need all the talents available to us.”
I was still hunched on the floor and had, in a rather unladylike move considering the times, pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms about them. It was so warm in that parlor that I had the thought we might be better off to leave our small, unheated bedrooms and sleep on the parlor floor. But then, there was Kipp, my own personal heat source.
Peter looked older as he contemplated her words. The facial hair drove some of that impression, but it was more: Peter was rapidly maturing in his thoughts and behaviors. His fingers drifted down to the watch chain again as his fingertips found the cold metal. “Elani, I’d like that, too,” he replied simply.
Seventeen
The next day, we prepared to finish settling in, and a trip to a dry goods store was first on our agenda. We’d gathered in the street-level kitchen where Peter and the lupines ate the remains of the previous afternoon’s delivered food from the kitchen of the National Hotel. I nibbled on some bread and cheese that’d accompanied the meal, which had consisted of a great deal of meat. True, I could eat meat, but made other choices when my survival was not at stake.
It had actually not been too bad temperature-wise, lying in the tiny room with Kipp, who did keep me warm. But the room had the feel of a closet, and I awoke, more than once, in confusion, thinking the walls were closing in to collapse upon me. Kipp would press his muzzle against my cheek or neck, his nose moist against my flesh, to give me comfort and help me drift off again into a dreamless sleep.
We ventured out, the early morning chill striking me rather harshly, contrasted
against the relative warmth of the townhouse, thanks to Mr. Garland’s coal and wood-burning stoves. The sky above was a bright, cloudless blue, and I was grateful for the absence of falling moisture, thinking of the sleet and rain that had met us upon our arrival. Peter asked a passing gentleman for directions to a store that might serve our needs, and we were told to go to New York Avenue, where we would find more than one place to shop. I was delighted, since I’d read about a famous toy shop owned by Joseph Stuntz that was on the north side of that street. The avenues of Washington were crowded, even more so with the influx of people due to the war. Thousands of former slaves flocked to the city seeking protection and refuge as well as employment, since many of the men were skilled laborers, and the women were highly sought-after for their valuable domestic skills. I’d read of Mary Keckley, who was one of the most talented seamstresses in Washington, fashioning gowns for the elite women of the day. She became Mary Todd Lincoln’s almost constant companion and nursed her through the loss of Willie, who died in 1862. Mary Keckley learned to read and write and purchased her own freedom, no doubt a woman to command respect. Also, the capitol was filled to the brim with people who served the war industry. In addition to the actual soldiers, there were the contractors and the others who made certain there was food, clothing, ammunition, and housing, as well as overseeing all the other hundreds of moving parts. A line of soldiers marched past, their arms swinging in rhythm to their footsteps, their jaunty kepi hats bobbing in unison. Their minds were easy to unravel…thoughts of loved ones, home, returning to a previous life that seemed almost out of reach…sad thoughts mingled with notions of hope. One young man—little more than a boy—glanced at our odd party, which was an attention-getter due to the lupines, and a crooked smile twisted his face before he assumed the rigid mask of the soldier in formation. I did pick up the soft tune of someone humming Lorena, the sound drifting across the crowded street to the corner where we waited to cross.
A Conspiracy to Murder, 1865 Page 17
