Tides of Tranquility

by Nadia Scrieva

  As Visola walked across the airport in her high heels, a scarf and sunglasses concealing her adjusted features, she looked around. Noticing the high levels of security, she smiled happily to herself. Of course. Vachlan’s plan had been to disguise her as an American citizen, thereby ensuring that she would be ironically under the protection of the same people who were trying to harm her. It was a foolproof and flawless plan.

  Or was it? The confident stride of her heels against the floor faltered. She carefully paused, scanning her surroundings with a vigilant eye. Everything seemed to be proceeding innocently enough. Keyword, seemed. Visola knew to look beneath the surface appearance of situations.

  Something was wrong.

  She saw a man walking toward her, and her breath caught in her throat. Could it be him? Could it be Leviathan? How did he find her? His hair was dark and curly, and it vaguely stirred her memory.

  “Taranis?” she whispered as the man closed in on her.

  The man gave her a funny look and continued walking past her. Visola reached up to grasp the knot of her scarf, just under her chin. Her darkened eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. Why did she have this strange, sinking sensation in her gut?

  She looked around rapidly, suddenly feeling naked. She had been unable to travel with any weapons, and there was no one she knew nearby. While she was near the ocean, none of her armies or great, fortified cities were accessible. Visola had the sensation of being trapped on land, with nowhere to run and hide.

  She had the sensation of being watched. She began to feel suddenly very hot and lightheaded. Against her better judgment, she reached up to remove the scarf from her head to allow her neck to breathe. She turned around, swiveling on her high heels, examining the people passing by for any sign of threat. Every time a tall man with curly brown hair passed her, Visola had a slight panic attack.

  “Taranis?” she murmured, repeating the name of her old lover. The Leviathan could be anywhere. She was not sure why she felt so uneasy, but she knew instinctively that something catastrophic was about to happen. Her instincts were never wrong.

  Gripping the handle of her suitcase to brace herself, Visola tried to take deep, calming breaths. It did not work. She felt dizzy and unstable on her feet. One of her ankles began to wobble, and her high heeled shoe tipped over on its side. Visola clutched the handle of her suitcase with both hands, feeling a whimper begin in her throat. She felt completely alone.

  “Miss, are you okay?” a security guard said, reaching for her elbow.

  “Don’t touch me!” she hissed, pushing him away. The suddenness of her own movement caused her head to spin, and she reached up to touch her forehead. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  An elderly lady moved to Visola’s side, noticing her distress. “There, there, child. Have you eaten anything today? Travel makes me feel woozy too!”

  Visola hardly noticed the woman, feeling her heart begin to pound rapidly in her chest. She pressed her hand against her ribcage, trying to calm herself down. All she needed to do was walk out of the airport. If she collapsed here and now, everything would be over. They could search her suitcases, and find the confidential documents she needed to start her temporary new life. She simply could not collapse.

  “Is it possible that you could be pregnant?” the elderly woman was asking.

  This drew Visola’s attention. That had happened before; her pregnancy had given her fainting spells and dizziness. But Sionna had said that it was highly unlikely she could ever conceive again! A sharp, shooting pain in Visola’s chest caused her to cry out and fall to her knees. Her entire body broke into a cold sweat.

  “Call a doctor!” one security guard was shouting to another. People passing by had begun to crowd around Visola, saying kind words and worrying about her health. Someone had picked up her wallet and opened it up to determine her name.

  “Her name is Sophia Jones,” a young man said. “She doesn’t seem to have any medical conditions…”

  “It looks like a heart attack! But she’s so young… should we get a defibrillator?”

  “What do we do? She looks like she’s in so much pain! What do we do?”

  Tears sprung to Visola’s eyes. Everyone was thoughtful and genuinely trying to help. The Americans were quite nice, after all—but it did not matter.

  She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was going to die.

  The warrior was not quite sure how, or even why. Have I been poisoned? she wondered to herself weakly as her vision grew blurry. The last thing she saw was the elderly woman who was hunched over her, placing the palms of her hands together. The woman had begun praying for her soul.

  If Visola had possessed even an iota of energy, she would have crafted a stellar joke. She would have told the poor old lady that her soul was tarnished so far beyond reparation that she should save her prayers for someone or something that deserved them. Like a cute dog, or a tub of yogurt. Yogurt, Visola thought to herself in amusement, but the feeling of dread in her heart was too painful to allow her to smile. Will I die here, surrounded by all these strangers in a New York airport? I never imagined that I would die without a weapon in my hand. Will I ever see my children again? They’re so young. Vachlan, Zuri? Sionna…

  A blinding pain shot through Visola’s head, and she saw stars. Understanding of what this was dawned on her before she slipped away.

  “Calm down, son,” Vachlan said as he tried to make sense of the boy’s furious hand signals. “Are you sure you saw Visola?”

  “Yes,” Glais said, “and you have to do something! I kept hearing this voice say over and over: ‘The world will never be the same. When people think back to the day that the world began to end, they will remember this day. I will make sure of that.’”

  “That sounds rather cryptic, Glais,” Aazuria said kindly. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream? I’ve been having many since we got here.”

  “No! I can tell the difference. Mother Melusina is my blood relative—these kinds of things run in my family. I’m a clairvoyant—or at least I should be, when I get older and my powers develop a little more.”

  “So you saw Visola?” Vachlan asked again. “She was hurt?”

  “Yes,” Glais said, “and there was trouble. Big trouble… but I don’t think it was about New York…”

  “New York cannot be compromised,” Vachlan signed angrily. “I was so careful about planning that for Viso. Extraordinarily careful. If something is wrong, I can’t possibly get there by tomorrow. She should be safe there…”

  “Unless she’s not there,” Varia said quietly.

  “What?” Vachlan snapped. “Why would you say that?”

  “Listen to his dream, Grandpa! Something is going to happen in Cairo tomorrow, and my guess is that Grandma V either left New York, or never made it there to begin with.”

  “This is really conflicting information. I don’t like working on hunches,” Vachlan informed the teenagers. “I need facts.”

  “Cairo is less than two hours away!” Varia insisted. “Surely you can go there just to keep an eye on things. Trust me, Glais’ visions are reliable. I know this firsthand. Please, trust me Grandpa V.”

  Vachlan finally softened and relented. “Alright, kid. I’m going to head to Cairo ASAP.”

  Varia smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much. Can Glais and I come too?”

  “Now you’re pushing it a bit too far,” Vachlan warned.

  “You could use our help,” Glais told him. “If it’s anything like my dream, you’ll need our help.”

  Aazuria and Vachlan shared a look of understanding.

  “Glais, you and Varia need to stay here in Atlantis with me,” Aazuria said firmly.

  “But Mother…”

  “If there is danger, then Vachlan will take care of it. There’s no use putting us all at risk. We can’t all go running off to a different continent every time someone has a nightmare.”

  “That isn’t fair, Mom. You dreamed of King Kyrosed
…”

  “That wasn’t a dream, Varia!” Aazuria signed sharply. “The man was actually standing in my bedroom.”

  “This isn’t a dream either!” Varia insisted. “It’s a premonition, or a vision, or whatever. The point is, we need to listen to these types of things.”

  “We are listening,” Aazuria said in exasperation. “We aren’t brushing you off! We respect and value your opinions and insights into our work. Vachlan is taking your advice and traveling to Cairo at once. However—both of you are going to bed at once. Is that understood?”

  Varia turned and swam out of the room angrily.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” Glais told them wretchedly. “Whatever we do, the world is going to end tomorrow in Cairo.”

  Chapter 23: Tomorrow in Cairo

  “And that concludes this segment of my lecture,” Sionna said as she stood before the audience of her colleagues. “Just remember, my friends: if necessity is the mother of invention, then impatience is surely its father.” She paused for the warm laughter that washed over the room. “Thanks for all your questions and interest—if you would like to be connected with clients who are eagerly hoping to revive a relative, please fill out an application at the front of the room. As I’m sure you know, there are more clients than we can possibly service, and they are willing to pay exorbitant amounts for specialists in the field. However, the science is still in its infancy, and we can only grow by experimenting and sharing our information with each other. This is not merely about money—it’s about science and integrity. Less than 2% of these operations to revive a frozen body will be successful. Are you willing to do a hundred painstaking operations for one successful patient? We only have one shot, and then the body is permanently inert. Of those revived patients, many will never regain mental consciousness. If you succeed, it will seem like a fluke. We barely know how this works. Logically, it is impractical and unviable to achieve these results. Yet we still try. Is it worth it? Is it worth failing over and over?”

  Sionna smiled as she looked around the room. “It was worth it for me. Thank you all for coming. I’ll be speaking again at the same time tomorrow.”

  The auditorium was drowned out in applause.

  Sighing in satisfaction, the redhead gathered her notes from the podium. She tugged the USB key with her slides out of the projector. She felt a hand on her back, and she smiled at Dylan. It did feel nice to have someone at her side as she shared her knowledge with the world. How did he never grow bored of listening to her say the same things over and over?

  “You’re incredible,” Dylan said. “Did I ever tell you that I’m your biggest fan?”

  “Oh, shush,” Sionna told him shyly. “Let’s get out of here before I get mauled with a thousand questions.”

  “Dr. Ramaris!” said a woman who shoved herself into their path. “You are such an inspiration to me! Thank you so much for enlightening us with your infinite wisdom!”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Sionna told her, allowing the woman to shake her hand.

  “You see,” the woman said in a whisper, “my dog died last year, and I froze her, and I’ve been trying to prepare my materials to revive her. You see, Penny was a gorgeous little poodle and…”

  Dylan cleared his throat. “Sorry, ma’am. Dr. Ramaris has an appointment elsewhere.” He began protectively ushering Sionna through the back doors.

  The redhead burst out laughing as soon as the doors were closed behind her and they were outside in the fresh air. “Her poodle!” she repeated in delight.

  “You can always tell who’s here for the good of mankind, who’s here for the good of their bank account, and who’s here because they’re completely insane and have no friends and nothing else to do.”

  “Oh, don’t be so harsh on the poor woman,” Sionna scolded, repressing a giggle.

  Unfortunately, the people from the auditorium had begun to pour out through the various other doors, and several were hungrily approaching Sionna.

  “Dr. Ramaris, you are a genius! And for such a young woman to make such an unprecedented discovery? I’m so jealous!”

  Sionna smiled. “Darling, I’m nearly six hundred years old.”

  “Dr. Ramaris! Who is this handsome hunk on your arm? I don’t believe you brought him with you last year…”

  “He’s a paid companion,” Sionna explained. “When you work as hard as I do, you don’t have time for love, and you have to purchase boys on eBay.”

  “What!” Dylan exclaimed. “Excuse me, folks, but Dr. Ramaris seems to be suffering from sunstroke. She’s from extreme northern latitudes, and I fear the Egyptian heat is too much for her to bear.” Guiding her away from the crowds, Dylan waggled a finger at her. “That was very wicked, Sionna. Those wrinkly female doctors were reaching for their wallets.”

  Sionna laughed. “I can’t help it! When I’m around you, I feel like a kid again. I feel like saying and doing stupid things. I feel like laughing for no reason at all.”

  Dylan smiled. “Really? I thought it was just me. It’s hard to restrain, isn’t it? This feeling of being in love.”

  “In love!” she exclaimed, looking around furtively. “How dare you use such unscientific terminology in the midst of the global academic community?”

  “It’s just what I feel. I’m just in love with you,” he said simply. “I’m sorry if that sounds implausible, illogical, or irrational to you. It’s just the truth. I thought it would go away or fade with age, but it’s only gotten stronger. Now I appreciate who you are and everything about you so much more intensely than I did when I was younger.”

  Sionna smiled. “Well, Dylan—whatever this insanity is, it’s mutual,” she told him. “I do believe I’m in love with you too.”

  “Really? Sio…” Dylan was moving forward to embrace her when he noticed a faint red light on Sionna’s white blouse. Before he could speak, a harsh sound rang out in the air around them. He was too stunned for a moment to react, and all he could do was stare into Sionna’s face.

  Her eyes grew wide and her lips parted as her body folded under her.

  Dylan sprung into action, catching her as she crumpled. He turned his head to the side to look for the source of the bullet, and saw a sniper on the roof of the building they had exited. It seemed to be the professional work of a CIA operative. Doctors all around were screaming and scurrying, ducking for cover behind buildings, benches, and even lampposts. Dylan looked down at Sionna’s chest in horror.

  The bullet had pierced directly through her heart.

  She reached up to grasp his bowtie in her fist as she struggled to breathe. “Dylan…” she whispered.

  “No goodbyes,” he told her. “We’re at a medical conference. We’re surrounded by doctors, and someone will patch you up in no time.”

  “You mean… the ones… hiding behind the bushes?” she asked with a groan.

  “You’ll be fine,” he told her, holding her against his chest. “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

  “It was me all along,” she gasped out. “They weren’t after Viso. Thank Sedna. Better me than her.”

  “Don’t say that!” Dylan said harshly. The woman’s eyes had closed and her head was becoming heavy. He shook her gently. “Sio! Sionna! I only just found you again…”

  “Dylan!” came a masculine voice from across the street, near the building. It was Vachlan, and he was firing shots at the sniper. “Get her out of here!”

  “Vachlan’s here,” Dylan whispered as he lifted Sionna off the ground. “We’re going to be safe, okay?”

  Sionna’s hand, which had been gripping his bowtie fiercely, now relaxed and fell to her side. “Tell… Yama…”

  Another shot rang out through the parking lot, and Dylan felt the impact. For a moment he believed that he had been shot as he stumbled backward, falling down. He was confused by the lack of pain. Then he saw it; the second bullet had ripped through Sionna’s skull. It had pierced her temple, just above her ear.

  “No!�
�� he screamed out, grasping the sides of her head in horror. “No! Sio. Sio, please. Don’t do this to me. Not now. Not today. Not when…” He let his face fall against hers, unable to continue speaking. He pressed his lips against her face, raining down dozens of kisses against her mouth, cheeks, eyes, and bleeding skull. “Please,” he implored her. “Please…”

  “Dylan!” Vachlan shouted, having shot the second sniper. “We’re surrounded. We have to get out of here!”

  The man could not move. He remained hunched over Sionna’s body in the grass. Vachlan ran across the street and clumsily hoisted Sionna in his arms. He managed to grab Dylan’s collar and awkwardly drag him off the grass and shove him into a waiting SUV. He handed Sionna to the man and dove in himself, just as more gunshots began to pelt the ground around him. Vachlan closed the door as his driver peeled away from the scene.

  “Fuck,” Vachlan said, pounding his hand into the bulletproof window. “Fuck!”

  Sionna’s body was sprawled across the seats while Dylan rested on his knees on the floor of the car. He rubbed his hands over her face and hands, trying to find any sign of life. “Who’s going to bring you back to life, Sio?” he whispered as he dragged his fingers across her lips, her cheekbones, and her hair. “Who’s going to fix you now, love?”

  Dylan released a sound that was part wail, part howl. It echoed mournfully in the moving metal box.

  Vachlan could not speak. He pressed his head into both of his hands and sat like that for several minutes, listening to Dylan’s miserable lament. For the first time in his life, he could not bring himself to look at a dead body.

  The corpse sprawled beside him in the car was identical to his wife.

  Pressing the palms of his hands into eyeballs until they hurt, Vachlan began to mutter to himself softly to distract from the situation. He spoke words, any words, just to remind himself that he was capable of speaking words.