Rogue Touch

by Woodward, Christine

  “So you see,” King said to me, “everything you knew is long gone. What you have left is here and now, this world. Our world. Your future, our present. And we’d like to make it a place you want to stay.”

  We were sitting in my room—the guest room at Alabaster and Touch’s house, the place where they’d been a family. I sat in the armchair and King sat on a little stool he’d brought in with him. I guess he was too polite to sit on the bed where I slept. I had propped the bathroom door wide open, so that through the far window I could see the building where they were holding Touch. Where they were holding Touch? Or where he was staying? I still couldn’t say for sure. They still hadn’t let me see him, or talk to him.

  King sat there on his stool, all bundled up in a parka. There was a knock on the door, and King whistled in reply. A man in a thick white coat came in carrying a kind of table/tray and set it in front of me. Finally. I’d started to worry they weren’t going to feed me at all. At this point I was so hungry I didn’t care if they’d poisoned it.

  The utensils were different than ours, these kind of chopsticks that connected at the ends. It took me a minute to figure them out. With my first bite, I could see why Touch had been less than impressed by our food. It was some kind of white fish and I’m not even sure it was cooked, but it just melted across my tongue, the most delicious and fresh-tasting bite of anything I’d ever had. Same with the salad, nothing cooked, just clean and crisp greens like I’d never seen before, a little sweet and a little spicy. Heaven.

  “Let me ask you a question,” I said to King, after several bites, when my hunger had started to subside.

  “You can ask me anything you like.”

  “How come you don’t put on one of these suits?” I pointed to the garment that I was still wearing, the green jumpsuit that would keep me comfortable if I went outside my special, cooled off room. “Instead of getting all bundled up, I mean.”

  “Ah,” he said. “You’re hitting upon one of the problems of this world, our time. The material for that suit you’re wearing is a prototype. Like Touch’s golden ring. He constructed it using resources that belong to Arcadia. But since it’s still under development, distribution is regulated. He developed the material. Alabaster had enough to sew one for you.”

  “But why does anyone else need one?” I said. “If they’re all comfortable with the climate? Seems like nobody who’s not coming into this room would need a suit made out of this material.”

  “My point exactly,” King said, throwing out his hands and smiling in way that was meant to make me think I had his approval. “All this nonsense, this red tape, this hyper concern with equality. It goes against common sense.”

  My head started to hurt a little. “I need to see Touch,” I said.

  “And so you shall.”

  “When?”

  “When the time is right.”

  He got to his feet. Honest, he looked so much like Touch—and at the same time so not like him—it made my heart hurt, which I suppose was the point. To leave me lonesome in this room, trapped and unsure, and work on me with the promise of Touch as my reward.

  “There’s something I’d like you to see first,” King said. “Before you see Touch.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The place where you’ll be living. If you choose to stay here with us.”

  “Listen,” I said. “ ‘Choose’ seems like a real funny word to use, when you got me locked in one room and Touch in another.”

  “Touch isn’t locked in any room.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “He can come and go as he pleases.”

  “If that were true,” I said, “he’d be in here with me.”

  “You forget his wife.”

  Dang. He held out his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but I had the ones built into the suit Touch had made me, like he’d remembered those sweaters I’d had to leave behind along our travels.

  “Come with me, Rogue,” King said. “There’s so much more to show you.”

  It was different than traveling through time. Faster, with more of a dropping sensation in my stomach. I don’t think I ever closed my eyes, but at the same time when we arrived, I had the distinct sensation of opening them.

  King and I stood on a broad, grassy hill. Way far off in the distance was the ocean, with wide, rippling waves. But closer than that was the most amazing building I’d ever seen. It didn’t settle into its surroundings the way Touch’s house had, but reached way up toward the sky with spires and angles. Every aspect of it seemed to shimmer, and I got the feeling that the crystals catching the sun also fueled the power inside.

  “This is one of the homes our ancestors built,” King said. “Of course it’s been improved on over the years. And I’m hoping one day soon it will be your home.”

  He looped his arm through mine and we started walking toward the castle. There wasn’t a moat, or guards, or anything like that. Instead wildebears paced out front. At first it looked like they were just meandering, no particular method, but as we got closer I saw that they crisscrossed each other’s path, snarling. It would take a mighty brave outsider to try and get through their pacing.

  “Go ahead,” King said. “See what happens when you step closer.”

  The healed place on my shoulder gave a little thrum, warning me not to listen. But I felt a weird sort of kinship with these animals, fearsome though they looked. Even if King hadn’t told me to, I would’ve wanted to do what I did next, which was step forward and hold out my hand. The wildebears’ snarls turned tame in an instant, and they fell back to let me pass.

  “They recognize you as one of us,” King said. “Come.” He took my arm like he meant to lead me into the palace. Seeing those wildebears, though, had reminded me of something. Namely the strength inside me. I pulled my arm away.

  “I don’t care about the palace,” I said. “If you think you can tempt me with things like castles, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Listen,” King said. The sun shone down so hard and bright, I had a tough time seeing him, like staring through heavy fog.

  “I’m done listening. You got something you want from me? Well, I got something I want from you, and that’s Touch. You take me to Touch, or bring him to me.”

  “Rogue,” King said. “Did Touch ever tell you why he went to your world? Your time?”

  “Of course he did,” I said, though actually the question got me a little shaky. It had always bothered me, Touch’s vagueness on that front. “He went there because of you,” I said. “Because he had to escape and keep you from overthrowing Arcadia.”

  “Arcadia has already been overthrown.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “But it’s true.” He held out a hand, indicating the castle. “That’s why this belongs to us. Do you know what it is, this place? It’s where people like you live. Where we teach them how to control their very special powers.”

  This stopped me cold. Here we stood, right on the threshold of the place I’d most wanted to go. If what King had said was true, all I had to do was turn and walk past those wildebears and past that wide, sparkling fountain. From where I stood, I couldn’t see any doors, but no doubt a portion of the wall would disappear when I approached. When I got inside, I would not only meet them, people like me, I would learn how to control my affliction. I would learn how to touch people without harming them.

  Touch.

  I couldn’t think. Not till I saw him. What had I been doing, standing here, negotiating with this man, talking to him like he was a reasonable person? Something came over me, a sort of rage, and I remembered all my power, my strength, and my speed. I stepped forward and pushed King to the ground.

  “No more,” I yelled. “You want to convince me of something? Send Touch.”

  Then I turned and started running. Obviously I didn’t have much of a plan. But I figured if I lost myself somewhere in this world, Touch would find me. I knew King couldn’t run fast enough to c
atch me. I just forgot those wildebears could.

  King whistled. And all of a sudden thunderous footsteps sounded behind me, hundreds of claws carrying their furry owners across the ground. I tried to pick up speed, I had a head start, but I guess a couple of the ones chasing me were faster than the ones I’d absorbed. The first one landed right on my back and threw me to the ground, while the others gathered around in a circle, snarling. Through my suit, I could feel the huge paw on my back. A little sliver of drool hit the nape of my neck and I shuddered.

  King whistled. The wildebear stepped off me. I turned over and sat up. King strode to me, his face contorted in fury. Then he reached down and grabbed my hand—a whole lot less courtly than the first time—and with a whoosh and a rush we were back in my room. My prison.

  Soon as our feet hit the wood floors, King let go of me. “I’ve been trying to be gentle with you, Rogue,” he said. “But I think it’s time you heard the whole truth.”

  “I won’t believe anything unless I hear it from Touch.”

  “Because he’s always been so forthright with you?”

  No. I wouldn’t let him get into my head. I’d stay strong.

  King took a minute to exhale the rage from his voice, so when he spoke he sounded eerily calm. “Here’s the reason Touch came to your time, straight and simple. We lost one of our most important weapons. His name was Gordium, and he had the same powers as you. Touch figured out a way to search time and space for someone who had the same gene—the same rogue gene—as Gordium. Do you know that was our code name for you, before we even knew the one we found would be you? Rogue. And then he went to your world. To you. To bring you back here.”

  “That makes no sense at all,” I shouted. “Touch works for Arcadia!”

  “No,” King said. “Touch works for me. He always has.”

  “Touch would never work for you,” I said. “He believes in Arcadia. He wants everyone to be equal.”

  “There’s no such thing as equal,” King snarled, fierce as the wildebears. “Whatever lies Arcadia disseminated. Some people are born with more than others. Naturally. You of all people should know that.”

  It wasn’t exactly a point I could argue, so I just sat there, real quiet. I wondered what had happened to Gordium.

  “Let me ask you one more question,” I said. “King.”

  He tried to rearrange himself, get back to the diplomacy he’d been using earlier. “Ask me anything,” he said.

  “If Touch is really on your side. If he wants what all you want. How come he’s not here convincing me instead of you?”

  “Alabaster…”

  “No,” I said. “That won’t work. Not this time. If Touch was like you—evil and lying, that is—he’d pretend anything he needed to pretend. And y’all must know he’d do a damn sight better job convincing me than your sorry ass.”

  Abruptly, King stood up. He gave me one long, narrow-eyed look and left the room, clicking the door shut and locked behind him. I got up from the chair and went into the bathroom. Through that window I looked out at the tunnel-like structure where Touch was held prisoner in a world where prisons hadn’t existed at all for a long, long time. I wished he had a window, too, where he could look up at me. I closed my eyes against everything King had told me. When I opened them, I could see Alabaster, sitting out on the grass with a small, blond boy.

  I put my hand to the window so it would go black. My brain was too full of too many contradicting thoughts. But just as suddenly I wanted to see them, Alabaster and Cotton. If Touch wasn’t a prisoner, why wasn’t he out there with them? I tapped the glass again and it went clear. This time I rapped it with my knuckles and the little amethyst ring I still wore—that had lasted through everything I’d been through, the one Cody had given me—made the barest little scratch in the glass.

  I pressed the ring a little harder against it. The glass went black again, but still the ring made a deeper indentation. My room stood about three stories above the ground. But that was a problem I could work out later.

  If the panes could be scratched, who’s to say they couldn’t be shattered?

  I wanted to break through that window right then and there. But it made more sense to wait until dark. To calm myself down, I took a long and steamy shower. Then I changed back into the suit Touch had made for me and lay on the bed, watching the shadows from tree branches speckle the walls. It had been hours since I’d eaten, but the meal had been so filling and nutritious I didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry.

  And of course I couldn’t help but think, What if everything King had told me was true?

  I was a newcomer to this world. Everything I knew about Arcadia, I knew from Touch. What if Arcadia weren’t so great, but filled with red tape and mediocrity, like King had said?

  And what if Touch wasn’t working for Arcadia but against it? Did it really matter, who was in charge of the government, so long as he and I could be together? And had Arcadia really fallen? Alabaster made it seem like the war was still going on. But if Arcadia was already over and done with, why shouldn’t I move into that castle, and learn how to control my powers, and stay here with Touch? Especially if Touch and I were going to escape back to my world to raise our own family in Mexico, what did it matter?

  No, I thought. It did matter. Whatever happened to me, and my power, or my affliction. I wanted to work for good. Not evil.

  Time passed in twitching starts. The sunset took so long I couldn’t admire its beauty. By the time it set, I already knew what I’d use to break the window, which was the stool King had been sitting on—simple and wooden and heavier than you might think. Soon as the world outside went properly dark, I picked it up and smashed it right through the glass.

  I waited for sirens to go off, but the night stayed quiet. I guess you don’t get around to inventing burglar alarms in a world without any burglars. So I picked pieces of shattered glass out of the pane until there was a clear enough space to haul myself through. Then I crouched on the ledge, gathering up my courage. At this point I knew from plenty of experience that a wildebear could run real fast. But could it leap out a three-story window and land on its feet?

  There was only one way to find out.

  It was one thing to know you had to be brave, and another thing to convince yourself to jump out of a window. You want to do it, you mean to do it, but your body just won’t follow the order that your brain gives it.

  “Jump,” I whispered to myself. “Come on now. Jump.”

  Nothing. I wouldn’t budge. I may even have started into trembling a little.

  I closed my eyes and thought of Touch. And I couldn’t let my own fear of a broken foot stop me from doing what needed to be done, which was push off of the ledge and jump out into the hot night air.

  That hot air whooshed against my face as I fell; it blew back my hair with a gust that could’ve come from a blast furnace. In fact the air was so hot it almost kind of lifted me up a bit, making me fall slower. So it might not have been just the wildebear inside me that let me land on the dust unhurt, but the thick quality of the air itself, acting almost like a cushion. Whatever the reason, I landed on my feet, my hands flat to the ground, crouched and ready to start running.

  If only the track coach back at Caldecott County High could see me now! Back in my sophomore year I hadn’t made the cut when I’d tried out for the team. Now I dared his fastest runner to even try catching up with me. I covered the distance in seconds. When I got to the building where they were holding Touch, I did what Alabaster had done, simply raised my hand to make an opening appear. And it worked.

  The corridor was deserted, not a sound coming from behind any of the doors. I hoped I’d remember the symbol marking Touch’s—they all looked awful similar to me. I paced up and down a few times, and finally when I got to what I was sure was the right door, I waved my hand again, and stepped through.

  The room was just as light as it had been during the day, bright as a laboratory lit by fluorescent bulbs. But th
is time there wasn’t a glass partition. Just a huge, wide, open room, with a long wooden table in the center. And at the end of the table, sitting real close together, were Touch and Alabaster, playing some kind of card game. They both looked up like I’d interrupted them in the middle of deep concentration. Then Alabaster smiled, that slow and dimpled smile that everyone else on Earth must have found real charming.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said, like nobody in the world mattered less. “We wondered what was keeping you.”

  Don’t ask me what I expected to find when I burst into that room. But it sure wasn’t this. The cards weren’t cards, exactly, they were made out of some thick, round material. Touch sat still, kind of shuffling them. He wasn’t wearing gloves. Why would he? Playing cards on his home planet, which was just the right temperature, and sitting next to a woman he could touch without fear of harm. I stared straight at him, trying to read the expression in those blue eyes. Wrong as the situation felt, I couldn’t stop the surge of happiness in my chest at the sight of him, the face I loved most in all the world. What I wanted to do was run to him, and take that face in my hands, and cover it with kisses, which of course I couldn’t do.

  But Alabaster could.

  Mind readers, these people. Alabaster reached out her skinny, ivory arm and threw it around Touch’s shoulders. It was a very casual gesture, slow and easy. She’d done it a million times before. It looked natural. Touch just sat there, holding those weird cards, and looking at me. I guess if I’d come from his time, I’d have known what he was thinking. But I didn’t. Hell, I didn’t even know how much time had passed for him since he last saw me in Arizona. From where I stood, he looked totally unreadable. He could’ve been a stranger, sitting there next to his beautiful wife.

  Alabaster let the tips of her fingers kind of tickle his neck. Then she lifted her hand off his shoulder and ran it across the top of his head. She took the little elastic out of his hair and ran her hands right through it. All things I would die to do, that I never could. Touch just sat there, maybe the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Then he—he, not her—leaned forward and kissed her. His lips right on her lips. Kissing her. No itchy balaclava between them. Just a lip-to-lip kiss. Like normal people in love can share.