“And he didn’t call the Secret Service? Raise the alarm?”
“Uh, well, he might have tried to . . .”
“Gemma! You laid hands on the President?”
“No. No, I did not,” I huffed. “The nanomites did.”
Zander smacked his forehead. “Oh! Well! Then that’s all right.”
I folded my arms. “Stop it. I saved President Jackson’s life. He’s grateful.”
Zander did stop. “Wait. Is that when . . . Is that when Harmon died?”
I shuddered. Not the time to get into the nanomites’ amoral actions. Besides, their mistakes were forgiven. Paid for. As far as the east is from the west. All that.
“Yes. Again, we don’t have time for the blow-by-blow.”
“But you saved the President’s life?”
“Yes; the nanomites and I did.”
“Wow.” Zander’s expression was inscrutable, but I thought I detected a glint of admiration. He managed to sit again and take my hand. “So, what did you mean by, ‘It has to be what President Jackson asked of me.’ What does the President want of you?”
I launched into Gamble’s invitation to dinner last evening, the President’s appeal for help (relayed by Gamble), and my polite refusal. Forestalling more questions, I added, “However, you should know that I’m reconsidering my decision. Last night I had a dream—from the Lord.”
I repeated the dream sequence in detail. It was easy, since the scenario was engraved on my gray matter—every minute facet and element, ending with, “Just as the king stretched his scepter toward me, a voice said, For such a time as this.”
“Esther. That is a direct quote from the Book of Esther.”
“Right. I couldn’t place it at first, but it didn’t take long for me to remember. I spent the rest of the night reading that book and praying. I asked the Lord, ‘What are you telling me?’”
“Did he answer?”
“Yes, Zander, he did. He said, Dare to trust me, Jayda. And when I asked, ‘Jesus?’ he added, Those who know me, dare to trust me.”
“And then?”
“Then I said, ‘Yes, I trust you, Lord. Show me what you wish me to do, and I will do it.’”
Tears threatened to undo me, so I looked at the floor. “I told the Lord that if I had to give you up, if that was what he required, I would do it.”
“Right answer, Gemma. But now? With the nanomites’ offer? Do you think that’s what the Lord wants? For you to give me up?”
“No, but it’s . . . it’s a huge step on your part, an irrevocable decision.”
“Yes, it is. On the other hand, I believe the nanomites. I believe the Lord told them to make me this offer. I think he wants both of us to help the President.”
Zander gathered me in his arms. “Let’s pray, Gemma.”
“It’s Jayda. But, yes. Let’s pray.”
He tipped my chin up and brushed the tears from my eyes. “Yes. Jayda. From here on out, you are my sweet Jayda—and this is the strangest premarital counseling session ever.”
“Ever!” I echoed.
Looking up into the cloud, Zander asked, “When do you need our answer, Nano?”
Zander Cruz, no deadline exists but the one Jesus will speak to you.
The nanocloud dissipated; I felt the nanomites flowing back into me. Never had I welcomed their presence more; never had they been so dear.
When the cloud was gone from our sight, Zander and I remained locked in an embrace.
For a long time.
~~**~~
Chapter 37
We prayed, we talked for hours, we prayed more. We both felt a sense of urgency, that the President’s situation was tenuous. And, even before we spoke of it, I knew we had, individually, received the confirmation we sought.
“Jayda. I’m ready.”
“You’ve decided, then? You will have to leave your church.”
“Yes, and I can’t say I’m all that surprised. When I showed up in the church office all banged up for the second time, Pastor McFee encouraged me to seek the Lord and ask for clarity. For vision. He knew I was called to minister—but it was a matter of where and how. He thought I should ask the Lord for guidance.”
“Wow.”
“Jayda, what do you envision for us after . . . after we help the President uncover the conspiracy against him?”
I smiled wide. “So many things! We could do a lot of good, Zander, in many places and ways.”
“That’s what I hoped you would say.”
He dug around in his pocket, looking sheepish for a second. “I’d really planned to do this differently, with all the romantic traditions.”
My heart thudded. Raced. Skipped around in my chest.
Zander pulled a little box from the pocket of his jeans. “I bought this in faith. I really believed the Lord would make a way for us to be together, so when I saw it, the perfect ring, I bought it.”
He opened the box and showed me the narrow band and its single marquise-cut diamond. “The wedding band has two stones that, when joined with the engagement ring, sit on opposite sides of this center diamond. Two stones, you and I, joined by the Lord as the center of our lives.”
“It’s perfect, Zander. So beautiful.”
“Gemma Keyes—sorry. Jayda Locke, will you marry me? Will you receive this ring as the token of my love?”
“I will, Zander. With all my heart.”
He slipped the ring on my finger and its fire sparkled there.
When Zander had drawn the box from his pocket, the nanomites, our ever-present sentinels, had begun to again flow from me, forming their cloud over us. When Zander asked if I would marry him and I said yes, they sang over us, and their melodious hum overflowed the cloud and spilled into the room. I can’t explain other than to say that their song blended the best of all bells, carillons, and chimes and the most poignant of strings into a symphony of beauty.
“I’ve heard this before!” Zander marveled. “When we were in the cavern.”
“Yes. They are singing, Zander, like they did when I gave them permission to transform me.”
“Then, it’s fitting they should sing now.”
I nodded. “I should caution you, Zander. Physically, it will be difficult. You . . . you’ll be sick for a day or two. Fierce headache. Fever. Vomiting.”
He swallowed. “Great.”
“I’ll stay with you—and the nanomites will do as much as possible to alleviate the discomfort.”
“Good to know.”
He didn’t rush into it, and I was glad he took his time. He wandered off into a corner of the living room by himself to prepare himself—while I let him have his space. I knew he’d never have “alone” time again. I didn’t want to disturb him while he made his peace with that reality.
About half an hour later, he came back. “I’m ready, Jayda—but first? First, I want to kiss you. In private.”
Laughing, we synced our words. “Nano? Lights Out!”
***
The transition was rough—rougher than mine had been since mine had taken place in two stages—and it took longer. I hated watching Zander suffer and—typical male that he was!—he demonstrated what a grouch he could be when he was sick. As his fever raged, he alternately froze and sweated, huddled under mounds of blankets or threw them off. He suffered nausea and violent vomiting. Body aches and headaches. Streams of blood from his nostrils with no warning. More vomiting.
Knowing the fiery trial he was undergoing, I kept vigil with him, administering pain relievers, keeping him hydrated, and helping him to the bathroom when his stomach gave way.
The pain and sickness went on through the night without abatement. Around eight o’clock the next morning, Sunday, I grabbed Zander’s phone and texted Pastor McFee:
Pastor McFee, experiencing flu-like symptoms, fever, nausea, vomiting. Please excuse. Do not think it wise to come to church.
The reply came minutes later.
Agree. Will muddle along without you. Pray
ing for your good health.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
I kept vigil over Zander throughout the day and that night, catching a little sleep here and there. It was early Monday when his symptoms eased. Zander curled up on the couch and slipped into a semi-comatose state. If he followed the pattern I experienced, he would, in another twelve or fifteen hours, wake with the strength of the nanomites’ fusion coursing through his veins.
With Zander sleeping, I hoped the worst of it was over. While he recovered on the couch, I stepped into the kitchen and made a call.
“Gamble?”
“Miss Locke?”
“Yes. Um, listen. I’ve had a change of heart with regards to what we, er, discussed Friday.”
Gamble’s enthusiasm jumped a notch. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear it—and how grateful I am that I don’t have to make a certain phone call. I was dreading it.”
“I can imagine, but I also need to add a caveat to my agreement.”
“Oh?”
“Two of us are accepting the offer. Two of us will be, um, involved. Actively involved.”
Gamble breathed into the phone. “Two. As in two like you?”
“Yes. You’ve got it.”
He was quiet for a minute, but then he chuckled. “Cannot for the life of me figure out how you arranged that, but my guess is that it resolves a boatload of relationship issues?”
“Uh, why, yes, it does. Thanks for your perception.”
“Mazel tov! I don’t think there will be any objections, but before I make my call, let’s plan to meet tomorrow.”
“I think the day after.”
“Roger that.”
We set up a meeting time and place and hung up. I spent the long day watching over Zander, thinking of our future together, and praying.
Lord, you know you’re amazing, don’t you?
***
Late Monday evening, Zander stirred and groaned. I went to him, sat on the edge of the couch.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I puked up my toenails.”
Zander Cruz, it is not possible to puke up one’s toenails, nor is it possible to know what that feels like.
“Yeah? Well, I suggest you don’t get on my bad side on the first day, Nano.”
A good point, Zander Cruz. We are glad to see you recovering.
“Me, too, Nano. Me, too.”
I heard their conversation and knew what it meant: The division of the nanocloud was complete. A new and separate nanocloud had been birthed.
***
We met with Gamble on Wednesday and worked out logistics. He, in turn, returned the President’s call.
During Zander’s transition, I had brainstormed with the nanomites to come up with the best way to secure a foothold within the NSA. The nanomites infiltrated the NSA’s public website and their human resources database, and we reviewed hundreds of federal and contractor position descriptions until we settled on a departmental administrative assistant posting (contractor) that had closed two Fridays past.
The nanomites made the case that if I applied to an open position, the hire could not happen, at a minimum, for a month, with a start date at least two weeks after that.
Jayda Locke, we inserted your application and résumé for the closed position into the hiring database and generated favorable comments on it. The interviews took place last week. We added an interview with you at the end of the schedule.
“I don’t see how that helps me since I wasn’t there.”
We identified the highest scoring interviewee and used the criteria for which she scored best to create interview notes for you. Your interview now scores higher than hers did. We concluded by generating a hiring recommendation in the contractor’s HR database. You should receive a phone call and an offer today or tomorrow.
“But, no one is going to remember interviewing me!”
They do not remember at present, but they will when you appear for your orientation, Jayda Locke.
“Jedi mind tricks,” I grumbled.
Effective and efficient, came their snarky riposte.
***
At Friday’s Bible study, I revealed to the group that I’d accepted a position in Maryland and would be moving in three weeks. Izzie already knew and was putting on a brave face.
She just didn’t know everything.
Over the sighs and groans of the single guys, Zander made his own announcement. “Hold up, folks. I have something to say, too: This morning I tendered my two-week notice to Pastor McFee.”
That brought on a shocked silence and one loud, “Oh, wow!”
Zander shrugged and grinned. “You see, I can’t let the woman I love go off to Maryland by herself, so I’ve asked Jayda to marry me. Our wedding is two Sundays from now after the morning service. You’re all invited.”
Beside me, Izzie gasped in delight. “Jayda! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”
“Did not!” I teased her, “but I know you hoped—and I’m so glad you did. We’re going to be sisters!”
“But two weeks? We don’t have much time to plan your wedding—and you haven’t met our parents!”
“No, but we’ve already talked to them. They have given us their blessing.”
I pulled at the chain around my neck, unhooked my engagement ring, slipped it on my hand, and showed it around. It hardly felt real.
Zander and I were getting married.
***
Our wedding was beautiful. Perfect.
I walked down the aisle on Abe’s arm, and my teary eyes swept over the sanctuary, seeing my many new friends in Christ. I was thinking about Aunt Lucy and the seeds she’d sown into my wounded young life. It had taken years, but those seeds had borne good fruit.
Izzie walked before us, my maid of honor. Down at the front, Pastor McFee waited on us. Abe was taking his sweet time, though.
“Only daughter I get to walk down the aisle, you know. Gonna savor it,” he warned me as we set out.
“Well, don’t be surprised if Zander runs down here and starts pushing.”
Abe laughed. “That’s a good man you’ve got there, Ge—Jayda. I’m mighty proud of both of you.”
I stopped right where we were and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you so much, Abe. You’ve always been there for me, even when I was such a brat. Thank you.”
Abe and I choked back our tears and somehow got moving again.
I lifted my eyes to the front of the church. Zander! There he was—absolutely stunning in his gray tuxedo and charcoal tie. The brilliant white of his shirt contrasted with his dark good looks. Emilio stood by his side, dressed in a matching tux, a shy grin tugging at his mouth.
Zander had told Emilio that he would have no one else in the world stand up with him as his best man. It took a little of the sting out of our coming departure. Hopefully, our assignment wouldn’t take long and we’d be coming back to Albuquerque to help Abe raise our boy.
I didn’t know what lay ahead for us; neither did Zander. Whatever came, we’d face it together.
Us and the Lord.
Oh, yeah. And the nanomites.
~~**~~
Postscript
Zander and I unhitched our car from the small U-Haul truck and began unloading our stuff into our Maryland apartment. We hadn’t brought much from Albuquerque, just the basics—and a blessed ton of wedding gifts from family, friends, and DCC.
We accomplished the unload in record time. Yup. Easy-peasy with two nano-charged people.
“All this energy is great, but now I’m starved,” Zander complained.
“Yeah, me, too. Shall we return the truck and get groceries after?”
Jayda Cruz, we have located a grocery store 1.6 miles from this location.
“Thank you, Nano.”
Zander Cruz, we, too, have located a suitable store. It is only eight-tenths of a mile in the opposite direction.
“Uh, thanks, Nano.”
Jayda Cruz, we made our selection based on
the store’s proximity to the truck rental return location.
Zander and I sighed in unison. From New Mexico to Maryland, the two nanoclouds had competed. They’d spent the entire first day of our drive vying over license plate bingo. We were so weary of their one-upmanship that, when we hit east Texas, Zander asked if they knew how to play the game “cow.” He explained the simple rules and sent them into a paroxysm of shouting “Cow!” in our ears every few seconds—until the distinctly chilly voice of one nanocloud grumbled, Zander Cruz. We have determined this game to have no purpose. You have played a joke on us.
“Who? Me?”
We’d then enjoyed two hours of peace and quiet—until one of us mentioned finding a dinner stop. A single, guileless comment initiated a contest between the two nanoclouds to find the best and closest restaurant.
We ignored their recommendations and stopped at the first burger joint we spotted.
Zander grinned. “The way the two of us eat, our food bill is gonna be higher than our rent. You know that, right?”
I laughed. “And you know you’re going to need some serious training to burn off all your energy once we get settled in, right?”
“You mean martial arts training? That stick fighting stuff you do?”
“Yes, but the training is beneficial for lots of things.”
“Like what things?”
“Well, like endurance, tactics, precision, flexibility, speed.”
Aches, pains, bruises.
Endless nagging.
Frustration.
Broken escrima sticks.
Anger management techniques.
Zander bobbed his head. “Okay, I’m game. But who will train me?”
“Oh, I know a guy; I’ll introduce you. I call him Gus-Gus.”
I snickered at the fun times ahead.
“Yeah. Gus-Gus. You’re gonna love him.”
The End
(What’s Next?)
Dear Readers,
I hope you’ve enjoyed Nanostealth as much as I have! What a wild ride. While at the moment I have no plans to write a fourth Nanostealth book, you’ll see that I’ve left the door open. Honestly, it’s not because I have another book cooking on the back burner but because I just don’t know how to land this thing! I mean, can you imagine the possible adventures?
Stealth Retribution Page 38
