My Familiar Stranger

by Victoria Danann

  “Yes. So let’s get to that,” said Sol. “We have less than two hours to learn what we can.”

  Storm suggested they go through a complete circuit of weights and machines comparing Elora’s performance to what might be expected of a typical twenty-three-year-old female in top physical condition. The results were astounding. Her numbers exceeded current records of males of any age.

  Ram laughed at loud and then grabbed his rib turning to Elora. “I just realized you actually did take it easy on me. I could have ended up squashed like a bug.”

  They were curious to test her for speed as well as strength. So they put her on a treadmill, but, at its fastest speed, which was twenty miles per hour, she was practically yawning. They determined they would have to test her outside on the track and then all five men proceeded to argue about the best way to do that.

  After nearly two hours they seemed to be winding up when Elora reminded Storm and Kay that she was supposed to get an opportunity to critique their fight style. Storm blinked at her for a minute because he had, in fact, forgotten that he had capitulated to appease her in the moment.

  Grinning ear to ear, Ram said, “Oh, this should be good.”

  Storm and Kay danced around a little, not wearing gloves because this was strictly exhibition. Elora stood a few feet away. Within thirty seconds she had stopped them to suggest a correction to the way Kay was distributing his weight. It took Kay three tries to make the change, but, when he got it, he was impressed with the difference a slight adjustment made in his speed and ability to deflect.

  She asked them to begin again. This time, when she stopped them, she gave Storm a detailed explanation as to how he was slowing his reaction time and draining endurance by carrying extra tension in his trapezius. She showed him how to keep his hands up while releasing that tension. He could tell that small suggestion not only made him instantly faster, but also allowed him to put more force behind his strikes.

  Elora declared that enough for one day saying she liked to allow time for an adjustment to be absorbed and integrated before introducing something else.

  Storm and Kay turned to talk to Sol and Ram. Both reported remarkable differences from just those few minutes of instruction, but everyone observing the demonstration was already sold. The implications were clear. If their interdimensional traveler was willing to share what she knew, she might give them all a better shot at staying alive. Sol turned around to ask if she would consider instructing. She was gone.

  Storm, Kay, and Ram found her at the hub bistro looking up at a read out of the menu above the counter.

  Ram came up behind her. “Can we join you?”

  She shrugged without looking at him. “It’s a free country.” She stopped and thought about that and then turned to the three men behind her and asked them as a group. “Isn’t it?”

  All three nodded and murmured assents.

  “So what will you be havin’?” Ram continued.

  “Deciding between cream of mushroom soup and a hamburger.”

  “Get both,” he said.

  “That would be wasteful,” she countered.

  “No’ at all. We’ll eat whatever is left.”

  Elora considered that for a moment, then stepped up to the counter and ordered the soup and the hamburger. She was completely unprepared for all the questions the hamburger order prompted. How did she want the meat cooked? If she wanted cheese, what kind of cheese? Which vegetables? Which sauce? What condiments? Bread with sesame seeds or without? Seeing her lost look, Ram interjected himself into the dialogue and answered the questions to please himself. Then he turned to Elora.

  “Let’s start there. Before long you’ll know exactly how you like it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he smiled. “You want juice?”

  She shook her head. “Chocolate milk.”

  He smiled bigger. “Excellent choice.”

  She smiled back.

  Watching and listening to this exchange from just behind them in line, Storm was feeling like a boy whose toy had been usurped by another kid. For the hundredth time he reminisced about the days when he didn’t have to share Elora with anybody else. Of course he didn’t want her held prisoner... exactly. But he didn’t mind being the center of her universe.

  The four of them sat down at a table in the solarium. Storm and Kay went back to get the trays of food when it was ready since Ram was out of commission. She and Ram talked about food she had tried, food she hadn’t tried, but would like to, and food she used to like in her world.

  When Storm and Kay returned, they said they were impressed with what she had shown them and that Sol was going to ask her if she’d consider training.

  Elora nodded her head without looking up from the hamburger in front of her. “Sure. This is good.” She ate a potato chip and took a swig of chocolate milk through a straw like a kid. “I like hamburger, but chocolate milk is amazing. Do you think the others would be receptive?”

  Ram touched his rib meaningfully. “If they know what’s good for them.”

  Elora pressed her lips together. “I wouldn’t want anybody to be forced. That’s my only condition. If they want what I have to offer, it’s freely given, but it must be their choice.”

  She reminded Ram about his promise to take a nap. He said the three of them had a meeting with Sol first, but it was sure to be a short one since he, and therefore his team, were going to be off the duty roster for another six weeks. Storm asked Elora how she was spending the rest of the day. Excusing herself, she said she had a session with Monq and was also trying to find some time for personal interests.

  Back inside her apartment, she took a quick shower, changed clothes, and donned a long knit vest with deep pockets. The Black Swan Training Manual went into one of the pockets. A few chicken treats went into the other.

  At sublevel two she exited the elevator without being noticed. There was no one near the part of the building where the dog was kept. People stayed far, far away from him which made Elora’s heart hurt all the more. Canines are the very definition of social animals. Forcing them to live a solitary existence is a cruelty that far exceeds heat, cold, hunger, or thirst.

  At home the stable master had been a man who was equally good with dogs and horses, if not people. His reputation had grown and, even though he was gruff and unfriendly, people came around with problem dogs asking for his help. Elora had spent so much time observing that eventually the old man invited her to assist and apprentice his technique.

  For today, her plan was simply to introduce herself to the unhappy dog and she did not expect to get further than that. When she turned the corner that brought her within sight of the cage, the animal leapt to all fours in one sleek movement, crouched, lowered his head, and began to growl. She responded by moving very slowly and offering verbal assurances that she meant no harm.

  When she came within six feet he began to snarl in earnest and leap against the cage. She simply sat down cross legged in front of the cage, pulled out the training manual, and began to read out loud.

  For the next half hour, she read while the dog snarled, growled, barked, and charged the cage. The noise he made echoed against walls and ceiling and was deafening. She couldn’t hear her voice above the noise and doubted he did.

  Finally, his great chest heaving, head hanging, tongue lolling, he grew quiet for eight seconds which she carefully counted off. At the end of that respite she looked up into his eyes. Most dogs will not meet a human’s gaze for more than a second, but there are a few exceptions. This dog was one of them.

  Holding his stare she whispered, “Good boy.”

  He closed his mouth, picked up his head, and pricked his ears forward. And in that moment she saw all the potential this dog held in his great heart: the character, the courage, the intelligence. She tossed a chicken bit through the chain link so that it landed at his feet. For a second, he took his attention away from her and allowed himself to be distracted by the treat.
She smiled and said to herself, "Yes, indeed, you magnificent creature. You and I are going to work this out." She put the book away and started to rise being careful to go ever so slowly. He growled a warning deep in his throat. She backed all the way around the corner.

  October 6 entry, Monq’s file on Elora Laiken: The subject’s emotional and psychological adjustment seems to be almost as remarkable as was her physical recovery. This is due, in part, to the fact that she has social interaction with Engel Storm and the other members of B Team with whom she seems comfortable. But, even so, she demonstrates an extraordinary degree of resiliency and buoyancy considering the body of traumatic experience.

  She has agreed to work with the knights and trainees, teaching a style of weaponless martial art that is clearly more sophisticated than that currently endorsed. Her contribution will undoubtedly be advantageous to the organization. Moreover, there is no doubt that she will benefit emotionally from a sense of purpose and belonging.

  As predicted, the meeting with Sol was short. Since B Team’s reintroduction to duty had been postponed, so had the immediate necessity for making a decision about Lan’s replacement. Sol said he was temporarily relieving the extra duty stress by bringing a team up from Brazil, but urged the three to settle on their selection of a fourth so that the replacement would be ready to go in six weeks.

  As soon as Ram got back to his apartment he called the media center and told them to send someone up with a copy of the recording of Elora’s hearing. They asked, “Which one?”

  “There was more than one?”

  “Yeah. A short one on October 1st, long one on October 2nd.”

  “Bring them both.”

  The recordings arrived twenty minutes later. Ram popped the first in and sat down to watch. The airbot, programmed by one of the media geeks, hovered chest high, recording Elora’s entrance into the Chamber with Storm on one side and a big, no neck bruiser of an orderly on the other. Ram thought, "Yeah. Like that would have slowed her down if she had decided to run."

  Within seconds she was holding Monq by the front of his shirt, keening pain and betrayal. Ram felt adrenaline shoot into his body as he sat helplessly watching the reenactment of his mate in anguish. His fists clenched so hard he drove the ends of his short, blunt nails into the flesh and felt his stomach roil. He let the recording play through the discussion that took place after Elora left the Chamber.

  The video record of the second day was a treasure trove of information. Certainly he wished he had known that she had a lifetime of martial arts training before he agreed to spar with her. Like all those who had been present that day, he was captivated by the story: her background, her relationship with Monq’s counterpart, the tragedy that befell her family, and the circumstances of her transportation to this reality.

  One thing he brought away from seeing the hearings was that Elora Laiken deserved a mate who would treat her as gently as a piece of fragile art glass and never deny her anything she needed to be happy.

  They tested Elora for speed late on a cool Autumn night with a bright moon. She was clocked at just under thirty miles per hour which exceeded the record by nearly four mph.

  ***

  CHAPTER 10

  The days began to shape into a routine. In the mornings she visited Blackie, her pet name for the big Alsatian in the basement, and made progress with him daily. After lunch, she spent the early part of the afternoon working with the knights and trainees. Sol told them that participation in the program was entirely by choice, but that they opt out at their own peril. Only one knight refused.

  Two or three days a week she spent some time practicing in the archaic weaponry wing. Not because she anticipated a need to fight by sword or archery, but because she had devoted too much of her life to these accomplishments to let them go rusty.

  Of course everything had to be relearned to some extent. All the skills that had long ago been committed to “muscle memory” had to be recalibrated to match the amount of pressure her new strength brought to each activity. When she was recovering she had thought it was a natural part of being rehabilitated to such a drastic extent and didn't realize the implications. Everything from holding a fork to opening a door required adjustment. The first time she played guitar, she popped a string so hard that it flew up and split her top lip.

  In the archaic weapons section, the knights also trained with modified wooden stakes since it turned out that vampire really do succumb, permanently, to wood driven directly into the heart.

  One day, when no one else was around, she picked up a stake and twirled it around a couple of times to get the feel of the weight and shape. For grins, she threw it at a straw target. Although she didn’t pierce the heart the first time, she did propel the stake clear through the dummy exploding out the other side. After a few tries she came closer to the target area and discovered that, if she eased back on force, she could embed the stake rather than turning it into a missile. But, of course, the target was stationary. She made up her mind to try again with the simulator whenever she found herself alone and unobserved.

  She had fallen into the habit of spending the late afternoons watching movies with Ram which proved to be an accelerated course in the culture of this world. He had little else to do these days and she felt entirely responsible for that. Not that his company was hard to endure.

  They took turns choosing films. Ram had a penchant for crude and immature humor with endless references to mammary glands, female genitalia, male genitalia, blow jobs, toilet mishaps, bestiality and non-committed couplings. The fact that she was frequently appalled by the horrendous things he found funny served only to amuse him all the more.

  Elora liked romances with beautiful clothes and happy endings. Ram called these movies “talkies” because there was too much dialogue to suit him. She chose to believe he was just pretending to be bored to adhere to some sort of macho image preservation ritual. Neither one of them liked horror or excessive violence. Too close to home.

  Music was something they had in common. He filled her audio library with music he thought she would like. They talked about the differences in the musical histories of their respective realities and the differences in popular music. Elora was shy about playing for Ram, but he never had to be asked twice. Heavy metal shredding wasn’t her favorite expression of guitar, but she appreciated his skill, that it was a very fine form of male exhibitionism, and she loved watching his strong hands alternately manipulate and massage six strings.

  Ram confessed to having watched the recordings of her hearings saying he wanted her to know that he knew what had been said. When she responded by looking at the floor, he took that as a sign that she would prefer another subject. But he was satisfied that he’d opened a door should she ever want to discuss it. Any of it.

  One day he brought her a soft cover, paper copy of a book saying he had reason to believe that she was interested in the subject. The title read Every Thing You Always Wanted To Know About Elves, But Were Afraid To Ask. Elora raised an eyebrow at Ram and gave him a crooked smile.

  “What makes you think I’m afraid to ask?” she said.

  He gave her one of his more sardonic smiles and shrugged, “Just in case.”

  She didn’t ask questions based on the book he gave her, but did ask about his home and his family. He described his part of the world as magical and beautiful. She learned that he had an older brother and a younger sister, that, in addition to music, he loved horses and liked to spend time at a tiny, family owned hunting lodge located in the middle of a forest and wild life preserve. When she asked why he had joined The Order he said, “Wild child, I suppose. They promised I would have adventures my brother could no’ imagine and that was exactly what I wanted to hear.”

  Ram was just as curious about her. She told him there wasn’t as much to tell as he might expect, that palace life had been restricting and suffocating and that, in many ways, she had more freedom as a prisoner of Black Swan. Ram’s face tightened when she said the
word prisoner. He started to protest, but stopped himself when he realized he couldn’t really argue with that.

  In the evenings after dinner, Storm spent time teaching Elora such civilized pursuits as billiards and five card stud. If Storm stopped by the apartment during the daytime, he always seemed irritated to find Ram there. One day, as Ram was leaving, he opened the door to see Storm standing with his hand in the air about to knock. Without pretense of ambivalence Storm asked, “Don’t you have a place of your own?”

  As Ram stepped past Storm into the hallway he flashed a devilish smile in open challenge. “I like it here.”

  In an uncharacteristic display of temper, Storm was just about to throttle Ram when he caught Elora standing at the doorway in his peripheral vision and decided to take a more conciliatory attitude. Truthfully, Ram wasn’t overjoyed about turning back to see Storm disappear into his mate’s personal quarters. Everything about that felt very, very wrong.

  “It does seem like he’s here a lot,” Storm grumbled.

  “We take turns choosing movies. He despises my choices. I eschew his.”

  “Yeah. I can imagine.” Storm was still pouting, but seemed somewhat relieved.

  Sometimes she had dinner at B Team’s table. One night, instead of dessert, she got a cupcake with a candle in it. Storm brought out a lighter, lit the candle, and said, “Happy Birthday.” After blowing out the candle, she cut the cupcake into quarters and insisted that each of them have a piece before asking Storm how he knew. He said he had looked for her counterpart’s birthday and figured it would be the same. When Elora told Storm how touched she was that he’d gone to so much trouble, Storm soaked up her praise and then gloated at Ram.

  Sometimes she ate with people she knew from the infirmary, such as Elsbeth, who was the closest thing Elora had ever had to a friend who was not also a relative.