by M. A. George
CHAPTER 17
As we were finalizing our plans for the following day, Sabela offered to quickly show Ewenami and Aeron the rooms they would be occupying. Since I was without a car, I excused myself to go find the camping lantern I often used to walk home at night.
Upon hearing I would be alone on foot in the darkness, Ewenami insisted Aeron walk me home. He politely agreed. Despite my contention that I had made the journey safely a thousand times before, Sabela chimed in, and I was overruled.
It was not the time alone with him I objected to—more so the feeling he was only doing so under duress. I didn’t like being the object of anyone’s pity, especially not his. It was humiliating enough to think back to the countless times I’m sure he’d caught me ogling. Now I had to endure the not-so-subtle hinting from both of our sisters that the two of us might enjoy some time to talk.
I gave Sabela a quick parting hug as we headed for the door. Aeron carried the lantern to guide us. Technically, there was sufficient moonlight to muddle our way through—but there were enough snakes and other wildlife out to make the lantern a necessity. We set out across the large desert field separating Sabela’s house from mine.
Years of making this trek had created a footpath, winding its way around the yucca and distinctive desert bushes and cacti. I trudged along silently, determined not to disgrace myself any further by chattering like a smitten teenager.
It was Aeron who broke the awkward silence. “I realize, Palta, that you don’t particularly want to be alone with me right now,” he began tentatively.
I raised my eyebrows slightly in surprise, as I turned my head away from him to collect myself. Great…Just my luck, he shares his sister’s unnerving aptitude for mind-reading. I took a moment to contemplate the possibility, then satisfied myself that I was completely alone with my thoughts. I turned slowly back to face him, my tone indifferent. “What makes you think that?”
“On our last meeting, I was inexcusably rude,” he replied apologetically. “You had expended immense effort to save my life, and I bolted for the door without so much as a word.”
“You were caught off guard,” I brushed it aside. “Don’t worry about it.”
He shook his head soberly, refusing to drop the issue. “You had weakened yourself to restore my strength, and I abandoned you thoughtlessly…I should have fallen on my knees in gratitude.”
“It’s okay…You thought I was there to kill you.” The hint of dry sarcasm in my voice made it clear I thought the idea was ludicrous.
“I wanted to believe that you weren’t there to hurt me,” he offered uneasily, “but my logical mind thought better of it and told me to run. It wasn’t a gamble I could afford to take.”
I paused to mull over the events of that night, and the weeks leading up to it. “Even if it had been my express purpose to track you down and kill you…I would have had to be pretty damn good to just happen to be working at the medical center for the past few years, waiting for you to show up.”
Now I had gone a wee bit past a hint of sarcasm.
“Give me a break, Palta,” he said, his tone suddenly shifting to exasperation. “When you know you’re being pursued by ruthless assassins—and awake from unconsciousness to find that the person sitting across from you isn’t who she formerly claimed to be—you don’t pause to consider all the possibilities…You run like hell.”
“Point well taken…” I conceded, tilting my head to the side as I shrugged slightly.
He sighed aloud, regaining a calmer tone of voice. “Even when I did have more time to consider it, I just came to the conclusion that you—or your accomplices—used your powers to somehow predict where I would be.”
“And then sat there and watched as you pranced around unharmed for weeks on end?…”
I don’t know why I couldn’t cut him some slack. He had been nothing but humbly apologetic and sincerely grateful. Somehow it left me feeling embarrassed and annoyed—partly with him for having jumped to the wrong conclusions—but mostly with myself for so desperately wanting his approval.
“I’m sure it was all in my head,” he proceeded gingerly, “but there were times when it did feel like you were watching me. It seemed plausible that you were told to observe me—perhaps so I would lead you to my sister—before finishing me off.”
For crying out loud, would the humiliation never end?
My jaw clenched as I scolded myself, Why couldn’t I keep my damned gawking eyes to myself?
I took a breath in, getting hold of my mortified emotions. “Look, Aeron…” My tone was calm and dignified. “I shouldn’t have given you a hard time. I suppose my pride was injured that you mistook my actions that night for malice. I was genuinely relieved that you survived, regardless of how you reacted afterward. Now that I know you a little better, I remain sincerely thankful that I happened to be there that night. You have already made your appreciation clear…I neither want nor expect anything else.” My expression was sincere as I urged him to lay the topic to rest.
“Thank you, Palta.” He smiled thoughtfully as he met my gaze, his face aglow in the light from the lantern.
We continued silently until we came upon a familiar long, narrow ditch that transected our path. Aeron stepped across first, holding the lantern in his right hand as he reached back with his left to assist me. I knew full well I could easily leap across—I’d done it countless times without a thought. Not wishing to appear obstinate, I placed my hand gently in his as I gracefully stepped across. Once he was certain I had gained a stable footing, he released his hand from mine, shifting the lantern to back to his left side to better light the space between us. I tried to ignore the rampant fluttering of my heart at the thrill of his touch.
Gradually my house came into clearer view, the moonlight reflecting off the wall of windows enclosing the back porch. It was one of my favorite parts of the house. I could sit and enjoy the view of the desert terrain set against the backdrop of the Manzano Mountains, without having to worry about the scorching summer heat. This had been my home for decades—and despite the fact that I lived here alone, I never felt lonely within its walls. It was like the house itself was an old, familiar friend.
It occurred to me that Aeron had no such place here on Earth…He belonged to another world. I ventured to break the silence with my brewing question. “Aeron…” I began tentatively, “If things have become just as dangerous for you and Ewenami here on Earth, why haven’t you just returned to Onontí?”
He didn’t answer immediately, so I elaborated to complete my thought. “At least there you would have military protection, and I’m sure your direct presence would be preferable to waging war in your absence.” My tone was politely inquisitive, taking care to avoid sounding accusatory.
“It’s complicated,” he sighed. “Without doubt, I would rather be standing my ground alongside my people than cowering on a distant planet while they face the onslaught.” He looked down at the ground, ashamed of himself. “If it had only been an issue of my own safety,” he continued, “I would have sacrificed my life long ago.”
My thoughts flashed to the image of his lifeless body slumped in my arms as I dragged him through the alleyway. I refused to allow myself to speculate what would have happened if I hadn’t arrived on the scene just in time.
I forced my thoughts to return to the present conversation, fishing for the reason behind his decision to leave Onontí. “You came here to protect Ewenami?” I suggested, understanding his devotion to his last remaining family member.
“She was certainly part of the equation,” he began. “But Ewenami is an extraordinarily strong and determined person, and she never would have agreed to flee for her own sake. She wanted to stay behind, but I knew we would need her powers.” He finally looked up to meet my eyes. “It was of critical importance that we locate your father. He is our primary reason for coming here.”
“My father?” The surprise and confusion were plainly evid
ent in my voice. “Surely you mean he was the reason for coming to Albuquerque…not to Earth in general?” His expression told me otherwise. “How could finding my father be more important than your own survival?” I was completely dumbfounded.
“I wish I could explain. But for the present, you’ll just have to take my word for it…I am under strict confidence to keep you from knowing his role in this yet. I cannot disregard his wishes.” It was clear he wouldn’t elaborate any further right now.
Only my father would think that a century of life experience wasn’t enough to prepare me for facing difficult times. In his mind, I was still the child who must be sheltered from life’s unpleasant realities.
I sulked to myself for a moment, perturbed by the fact that Aeron—almost forty years my junior—was privy to this personal information, while I was kept in the dark. It dawned on me that he had the privilege of royal decree. Perhaps my father had no choice but to follow orders. I promptly dismissed that possibility, having seen Aeron’s face when he spoke of gaining his friendship and trust. It was clear he greatly respected my father.
“So you have succeeded in locating my father,” I carried on with the conversation. “What now?”
“Our original plan was to persuade him to return to Onontí with us,” he answered, “but then things got more complicated.”
“I gather you are referring to the potential global crisis on our hands,” I offered—ignoring for the moment the fact that, all things being equal, there wasn’t a chance my father would agree to return to Onontí.
“Yes,” he heaved a sigh in response. “The threat of humankind’s destruction certainly wasn’t what we needed.”
With that, we had arrived at the door to my back porch. As I stepped through the doorway, Aeron hesitated, in keeping with proper gentlemanly manners. It occurred to me at that moment that he was the first man (aside from Dominick and my father) to set foot in my home since its construction. How pitiful was that?
I held open the door as I motioned for him to enter. “If you don’t come in, the bugs will…” I smiled jokingly as I stepped over to turn on the lights.
This wasn’t a space I typically used at night, so the only lighting was a set of sconces on the opposite wall. They cast a soft glow over the room, turning the wall of windows into an expansive mirror.
Aeron set the lantern down on the little dining table, holding his position close to the door. I kept a comfortable distance between us as I leaned against the doorjamb of the entrance to my kitchen, my arms folded in front of me.
My forehead creased as my thoughts returned to the topic at hand—the impending obliteration of Earth’s population. “Suppose we’re not able to find and destroy the biological weapon in time…What do we do then?” My expression was bleak as I tried not to consider the distinct likelihood of that reality.
“We have to make certain that doesn’t happen,” he insisted. “But that is why I am specifically working on an antiviral agent that would be safe for humans. It would be much easier to use a toxic antimicrobial chemical to render the weapon harmless. But if we were too late in reaching the source, and it went global…We would need a treatment that can administered to the victims.”
“What about a vaccine?” I suggested.
“It wouldn’t be practical on a global scale.” He had already considered the option. “There would be no way to explain the need to vaccinate everyone in advance without creating a panic. And once the virus has begun to disseminate, there won’t be sufficient time for a vaccine to be administered to the entire population—let alone to actually kick in and prevent the disease.”
As I racked my brain to come up with a better solution, it occurred to me how many years of education had gone into my medical knowledge. “Wait a second…” A puzzled expression crossed my face. “Was it just extraordinarily good luck that you happened to be an expert in microbiology?” I suspected I already knew the answer to that question.
“I kind of have a flair for the sciences,” he replied sheepishly, confirming my suspicion. Language wasn’t the only thing Aeron could learn in record time.
“I am grateful to have your help in continuing the work to develop an antiviral agent,” he added. “It has been an unfortunate distraction from my duties toward Onontí. Until tonight, I was beginning to think I would have to abandon my efforts altogether.” His expression was remorseful as I slowly grasped his meaning…He had been on the verge of leaving humankind to perish.
“You couldn’t!” I was suddenly shocked and outraged at the possibility. “How could you live with yourself if you just gave up and watched an entire population die?” I refused to believe he was capable of such negligence.
“Believe me, it would be the hardest decision of my life,” he responded emphatically. “But you must remember, my first duty is to the people of Onontí…”
“I hate to break it to you,” I said, the tone in my voice a bit too icy, “but like it or not, you have taken on the responsibility of protecting two worlds now.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be in my position right now?” He hurled the words at me, throwing his hands up in frustration. “So many lives hinging on my every decision?”
“Yes, I can imagine the weight feels…unbearable.” My voice was softer now. “Even so…” I shook my head slightly as I pondered the thought. “Do you realize how easy it is for me to envy you?”
“Envy me?” His face was stunned. Then his voice turned heavy with sarcasm. “Oh, yes…the glories of royalty! Absolute power, limitless wealth…Honestly, Palta, somehow I expected better of you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I shot back, inflamed by his rash judgment. “I have no interest whatsoever in power or wealth.” I caught my breath and willed my voice to soften. “It’s your heritage…You have a sense of true purpose and belonging among your people. There is a clear reason for your existence—one with immeasurable significance. You have an undeniable place in your world—and the freedom to be yourself—without having to hide your true identity from all but your closest family.”
“Palta…” His voice was pleading, a sadness coming over his expression. “Surely you know enough of the history of human monarchies to realize that freedom is the last thing I’ve had. My life has been dictated since the day I was born—even before. Aside from the fears of brutal assassination and worldwide disaster, my life on Earth is the freest I have ever known.”
I paused to absorb his words, his intense eyes pleading with me to understand. “I apologize, Aeron.” True repentance filled my eyes. “I had never really looked at it that way. I hadn’t considered how similar our situations actually are. Believe me, I know what it is to feel isolated and trapped. Like there’s no hope of anyone ever appreciating you for your true self.”
He stood silently, studying me carefully as he contemplated my earnestness. Suddenly, with three quick strides, he closed the distance between us.
His left arm looped around the small of my back, pulling me in, as his right hand swept upward to cradle the side of my face. I reflexively reached up to steady myself, taking hold of his arms. He leaned in, inching his face closer to mine, until I could feel his exhaling breath on my skin. There he paused, a puzzled expression in his eyes—as surprised by this sudden turn of events as I was.
I stood frozen in time, muscles tensing, my fingers gripping more tightly than necessary into his unyielding arms. I willed myself to meet his gaze, a mixture of confusion and hesitant anticipation on my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but was unable to find any words in the swirling tangle of thoughts inside my mind. A determined look flashed across his face, and without another word, his lips were upon mine.
A wave of calm washed over me as I finally remembered to breathe. I loosened my iron grip and slowly slid my hands up to find his chest. His left arm pulled me closer, anchoring my body firmly to his. His soft but urgent lips continued working over
mine, as his right hand stroked the side of my cheek, my hair, down to my neck—ultimately coming to rest on my shoulder. And then, without warning, he was pushing me away.
I reluctantly pulled my mouth away from his, my hands still resting lightly on his chest, and tilted my head up to search his face for any sign of his thoughts. With an apologetic expression, he gently lowered his arms to his sides and took one step back away from me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered with a sense of regret in his voice. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I stood motionless as he turned around and briskly strode toward the door. I struggled to say something, anything, to hold him there with me. Breathless, I mustered a feeble “Wait!”, but there was no one there to hear it.
The door was already closing behind him.
