by Elana Brooks
She waved expansively in Adrian’s direction, giving him a wide smile to show she was fine with the way things were. I trust you to act like a nice guy, because that’s who you are. So you’re not going to go blabbing my secrets to the world. But you’re also smart, and I trust you to act that way, too. Nice, smart guys don’t get involved with girls like me. As long as I remember that and don’t start expecting anything different, I’m good.
Adrian stared at Beverly. Her smile was so bright, her eyes gazing sightlessly in his direction so open. How could she look at him that way when her words had revealed exactly what she thought of him, and of herself? Nice, smart guys don’t get involved with girls like me.
The worst part was, she was right. Her story had set enough red flags waving to supply a bullfighter’s convention. Her past had left her with deep emotional damage, likely beyond what could ever fully heal. Anyone who got involved with her could expect to deal with the effects of that damage on a daily basis. He agreed with her on that point. You could always trust people to act like themselves. Anything else was stupid.
And yet—she was so wrong. Maybe she couldn’t see how much strength it had taken to overcome what she’d lived through to the extent she had, but he could. She wasn’t homeless, or married to some guy for his money, or living hand-to-mouth. She’d carved out an identity for herself as a professional businesswoman. Even apart from her psychic gifts, she had made herself into someone he could respect. Someone who had every right to expect the attention of a nice, smart guy.
Like him. She’d neatly pegged the cornerstones of his identity. Those two words pretty much summed up everything he’d ever aspired to.
What an insipid, shallow wimp that made him sound like.
She kept looking in his direction expectantly. He’d better come up with some sort of response quickly, or she was going to be deeply hurt. He couldn’t let that happen. The idea sent pain resonating through his gut so hard he had to put up a block to keep her from feeling it.
God, he was emotionally involved with her already, wasn’t he? What more proof did he need? Whether it was the influence of the soul bond or something more primal didn’t really matter.
He cared how she felt. What happened to her mattered to him. He’d felt a surge of gladness along with his concern when her thoughts had broken into his. His heart had raced when she’d invited him to come to her, even though their contact must necessarily be limited. This time together had both filled him and left him hungry for more. He wanted her to trust him. Not just to be a nice, smart, guy, but to be a friend.
Or more than a friend.
Damn, he wished he were here physically. Or that she could take astral form. Interaction between different forms was so awkward.
I’m going to come over to you, if you don’t mind. He rose, watching for her reaction.
All right. She blinked and took a step in his direction
Just stay where you are. Remember, I can see you even though you can’t see me. He walked over to stand before her. Give me your hands.
Obediently she raised them, groping in empty air.
He wrapped his astral hands around hers, concentrating so she would feel the pressure. They tightened in response.
Beverly, you’re a remarkable woman. I like you, and I respect you. I’d say that even if it weren’t for your psychic powers. I’m honored to know you.
Her eyes got shiny, and she blinked. She shrugged, but didn’t try to withdraw her hands. You probably say that to all the girls.
He smiled, sending the image to her mind so she would know. Only if I mean it.
She licked her lips. The moisture gave them a subtle shine for a moment before it dried. I like you, too, Adrian. And I really respect you. If the Covenant does end up saving the world, I know you’ll be a big part of it.
Her faith settled snugly into an empty space in his soul he hadn’t known was there, a hollow where it fit perfectly. Wanting only to give her the same gift, he spoke without thought. I will if you fight at my side.
Her lips twisted into a wry, rueful grin. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? What my psychic abilities can do for the Covenant. She pulled her hands from his.
He floundered, trying to figure out what to say to recapture the moment, before realizing it had passed irretrievably. Frustrated, he blurted, It has to, sooner or later. Knowing who I am, did you expect anything else?
No. She stepped back. It’s late, and I’m tired. I think we’d better call it a night. She looked pointedly toward her bedroom.
An image flashed through his mind, of him pulling up the bedcovers and tucking them under her chin, bending down to brush astral lips across physical ones…
He blocked it, appalled to think she might have seen. What was happening to him? If he didn’t control his unruly mind, he’d end up frightening her away long before their relationship progressed to the point where she could welcome that sort of intimacy.
Wait, stop. What made him think that’s where they were headed? He wasn’t even sure whether that’s what he wanted, let alone whether she did or ever would.
Although apparently some part of his mind and/or body had decided it was sure.
Whatever. Now was not the time. Maybe the time would come in the future, or maybe it wouldn’t. It certainly wouldn’t if he mishandled this parting. Yeah, I’m tired, too. Sleep well, and I’ll see you a week from Monday.
I’ll see you then. She turned, then turned back. How will I know you’ve gone? You’re not going to hang around and watch me sleep or something, are you? Because that’s kind of creepy. She quirked an eyebrow and sent him a flash of humor, so he knew she was joking.
He responded in kind, but with enough of a note of seriousness she’d realize he meant it. Oh, well. He gave an overly dramatic mental sigh. There go my plans for the night. Covenant rules are such a bore. Can you believe they require us to respect private space unless we’re specifically invited in? And leave when we’re asked to?
She grinned. And I was so looking forward to the opportunities for voyeurism.
He sent her the image of his exaggerated shrug. What can you do? Dropping back into his normal voice, he said, All right, I’m heading out. Take care, and see you soon. Call if you need me, or if you just want to talk some more.
Maybe I will. Goodnight.
Goodnight. He showed her a mental picture of his astral form striding through her door with a wave. Her answering wave vanished as his astral eyes passed through the wood of the door into the hall outside.
He paused, checked the strength of his tether, and gathered his energy for the long journey back to his body. Just before he set out, he glanced back.
It would be kind of sweet to see her face relax into sleep, to stand watch through the night, guarding her vulnerable body from whatever danger threatened it during the hours of darkness…
He shook off the impossible whim and launched into flight, following his tether across the long, dark miles.
Beverly stood and stared at the door, rubbing her hands together, remembering the sensation of invisible fingers caressing them. After a moment she called silently, Adrian?
Safely home. ’Night. His mental voice wasn’t any softer or less distinct than when his astral form had stood beside her, but there was an indefinable sense of distance to it.
’Night. She broke off contact and headed once more for bed.
She paused briefly after pulling off her shirt and bra. She trusted he had really left, but… She listened for his thoughts. Nothing but softly sleepy murmurs. Either he really was in Chicago, or he was much too good an actor for her to have any chance of catching him in a lie.
She slid her pajama top over her head, suppressing a brief pang of wistfulness. It would be nice if he liked her body enough to want to stay and catch an illicit glimpse of it…
She shook her head hard. His words had been wonderfully gratifying, but he hadn’t given any hint he felt more toward her than warm friendship, or wanted any
thing from their relationship but an effective partnership against the aliens.
For the first time she found herself really looking forward to fighting the Seraphim together. That sort of trust was a lot for him to offer her. It was selfish and greedy to want more. If he ever got a hint she did, she’d risk losing even the limited contact he was willing to engage in, and that would be awful.
Thank goodness he hadn’t seen the image that had flashed through her mind. She must have blocked it quickly enough. He would run for the hills if he knew she was imagining him tucking her into bed, bending lower and lower until his lips brushed hers in a kiss that set her heart racing and her pulse throbbing in all sorts of places…
What the hell had she been thinking, pouring out her life story to him like that? Never mind scaring him away, she was lucky she hadn’t bored him to death! She was far more fortunate than she deserved that he’d listened with patience and compassion and responded in such a caring fashion.
He really was a nice guy. She was glad, even if it meant he was much too wise to get tangled up in her mess. It was nice to know that truly good guys actually existed. And even nicer to know one personally. Even if it could never be as personally as she’d like.
Her stomach didn’t hurt at all anymore, she noticed, just before she sank into sleep.
Chapter 11
Beverly glared at the mat under her hands. How she hated Plank Pose. More than any other, it made her feel weak and hopeless. Friday she’d fallen on her face when she tried to bend her elbows a fraction deeper than she’d managed before. Two days off surely hadn’t improved matters. Rabbi Sensei had directed her to practice her yoga privately at home, but she’d ignored him. Other than a lot of walking around the city doing the tourist thing, and as few treks up and down the stairs to her apartment as she could get away with, she’d totally blown off exercise all weekend.
Rabbi Sensei must get regular infusions of patience from somewhere. Otherwise he’d have given up on her ages ago. A whole week with no perceptible progress certainly had Beverly ready to give up on herself. But his voice was a calm as ever. “Bend your elbows straight back and lower yourself to the mat.”
Fine. Beverly bent her elbows the usual tiny amount, then a little more. What do you know, her arms were holding up. She let her body sink another inch, then another. Her arms began to shake, but they hadn’t given way yet. Further. Her elbows stuck out like wings, which she knew was bad form, but she didn’t care. The mat was right beneath her nose. She held the pose for a few more seconds, hovering just like Rabbi Sensei always did, before she couldn’t hold out another instant and let herself drop to the mat.
She bounced up and whirled to face Rabbi Sensei, exuberant. “I did it! Did you see that? I went all the way down and held it!”
His smile was broad. “I saw. Very well done. All your hard work is beginning to pay off.”
She stuck her arms out straight in front of her and twisted them back and forth, looking at them wonderingly. Was that just a hint of muscle definition under the flab? No, she must be imagining it. But they were unquestionably stronger now than they had been. “I didn’t think… I never really believed I’d get any better at this stuff. And it’s only been a week!”
“As I seem to remember telling you your first day, progress can be dramatic at first. Now let’s resume. Why don’t you go back into Plank and see if you can repeat your achievement?”
Lo and behold, she did. And again, the next time the flowing series of moves brought them back around to that point. Apparently her arms had figured out what they were doing and could perform the trick on command now. The warm glow of accomplishment carried Beverly through the rest of the morning workout as if she were floating on a cloud. Never in her life had she felt so powerful. Even her diploma from UC hadn’t meant more to her than that moment when her muscles had screamed beneath their load and yet held firm.
When the session was through, Rabbi Sensei sent her off to change clothes. “I’ll see you in my office when you’re done. I think you’re ready to watch the next Memory.”
Beverly was used to feeling Rabbi Sensei’s presence in her mind now, so she was much more comfortable facing him and taking his hands than she had been the week before. Even so, a nervous thrill ran through her as his powerful mental voice reverberated inside her head. Several weeks have gone by since the events of the first Memory. Noh has followed the Seraph’s instructions. Now what the alien foretold is coming to pass. Observe.
A wash of colors swirled behind Beverly’s eyes, much the same as before, except this time the hues were dark purples and grays and greens. When the image came into focus, she found herself looking out over a stormy sea. Rain sheeted down from billowing black clouds, and violent waves lashed the previously tranquil shore. The hut she’d seen before stood knee-deep in water. Each breaker split to wrap around it and crash together on the shoreward side.
A woman nestled under her arm, and Beverly realized she was once again experiencing events through Noh’s senses. “We must get aboard soon. The water is rising fast.”
“You’re right, Nama. Will none of the rest change their minds?”
She sighed. “No. They remain certain the storm will pass, as all storms do. Those whose homes are flooded have sought refuge with those who still have dry floors. If the rest of the huts flood, they plan to retreat to the hills and wait for the water to recede. They say the craft you’ve built will sink when the waves carry it to the deeps. They say the creature in your vision was a demon sent to deceive you, not a messenger from God.”
“I wish they had been able to see him for themselves. His words sounded in my heart, not my ears. I would have known if they were false. And see, here’s the storm begun, just as he foretold.”
“Yes. The boys have the animals loaded, and the girls are bringing in the last of the stores. Once we board, the door can be sealed.”
Noh sighed. “I hoped the Seraph would appear to me again with further guidance. But no matter. Let us enter.”
The view swung around to look inland. Beverly saw a large wooden vessel several hundred feet away. It looked more like a big flat box than the boat she’d seen in pictures. On the near side, a door hung open.
Arm in arm, Noh and Nama walked to the craft and ducked inside. Goats and sheep milled about. Chickens and ducks scuttled underfoot. Several wild-eyed cows bawled in one corner. In another, low fences kept the animals out of the rude living space where Noh and Nama headed. Sleeping mats were rolled up against the walls. Stones had been laid on the wooden floor to form a small hearth where a tiny fire burned, sending smoke spiraling to narrow covered vents in the ceiling. Noh’s children and their spouses squatted on their heels around it. His younger grandchildren snuggled in their parents’ arms or huddled next to them. The older ones roamed among the animals, calming them.
“Everything’s ready, Father,” the one Beverly remembered was called Sem said.
“The pitch is melted.” The young man named Am swirled a long-handled metal pot over the fire. A petroleum stench seared Beverly’s nostrils.
“What are we waiting for?” the swarthy Jeth demanded, brandishing a mallet. He jumped to his feet. The others followed, Am carefully maneuvering the hot pitch. Noh’s arm flashed into view, summoning them, and the four men trooped to the door.
Sem hauled the great wooden panel into place, and Jeth hammered wooden pegs to secure it. Am used a broad, flat knife to dip up the pitch and smear it over the seam. Noh examined every inch, gesturing for him to add more wherever light seeped through a crack. In the occasional glimpses she got of the rest of the vessel, Beverly saw that every seam and join was similarly coated with layers of dull black pitch.
Everything was dark save for the red glow of the fire. When the door was finished to Noh’s satisfaction, the men retreated to the hearth. Ohr passed around skewers of cooked meat, and Eneh and Bet ladled grain and vegetables from a pot.
The memory blurred. When it cleared again, Noh remain
ed squatting by the fire, but the rest of the family lay on their mats, sleeping. The flames danced in Beverly’s mental vision.
A voice, heavy with weariness, resonated in Beverly’s head. She recognized the feel of telepathy. I have returned, as I promised.
Noh’s head jerked up. “Seraph? Why do I not see you?”
Your spirit remains within your body. Come forth so we may converse.
“I don’t understand.”
The telepathic voice seemed puzzled. Your spirit came forth before. I know the rest of your people remain body-bound, but I thought you were able to travel freely.
“I know not the art of which you speak, but I would learn. Teach me.”
A long pause. I know not how to teach you. We are able to leave our bodies at will from our earliest awareness.
“Before, I slept. Might I need to sleep again now?
Traveling is easiest when one’s body is in repose.
The view of the fire bobbed as Noh nodded. Then it swooped and went dark as he stretched out on his mat and closed his eyes. “I seek to allow my spirit to rise to greet you, while my body remains supine? Is that correct?”
Hesitantly the Seraph said, Yes. Relax and release the bonds that hold spirit and body united. That’s what it feels like when I do so.
For a long moment all was still and quiet. Beverly got the feeling a significant amount of time passed, edited in the Memory to only a few seconds. At length the fire bloomed again in Noh’s vision, as his astral form sat up in the way that had become familiar to Beverly in the past week. He glanced down at his slumbering body, then up to where the glowing astral form of the Seraph hovered, fins undulating gently. “Greetings, friend.”
This time Beverly could hear the Seraph’s hisses and clicks. “Greetings. I’m pleased you found the path out of your body. I always knew your people were more than spiritless animals, but this proves it beyond all doubt. If only the others of my people would listen to me and stop the terrible destruction which they rain on your world.”
