by J. D. Dexter
“Can you blow that up at all?” she asks.
My brow wrinkles. “Sure.” I enlarge the picture for her.
She holds her hand out, and I slap the phone into her open palm. Bringing it closer to her and Brock, I get a sick feeling in my stomach at their reactions.
“What? What it is?” I ask, almost dreading the answer.
Brock looks up at me.
Then he looks down the table at Hunter.
Back at me.
Once again to Hunter.
His shoulders slump. “This is exactly what Shavix looks like. Especially if he has silver hair instead of white.”
My mind goes blank.
Everyone at the table goes silent.
I look at Hunter. His mouth is agape, he looks confused.
“Finley, do you know what this means?” Kezi’s voice reaches me through a windstorm of static.
“Finley?”
I turn my head.
“Do you understand?”
I shake my head. I have no words, but know that what she says next is going to destroy me.
“Hunter is your biological brother.”
A scream fills my head as my stomach drops away.
No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. He can’t be taken from me like this. I won’t let it happen. He’s my other half, the man I’m going to marry. He’s going to be the father of my children. He can’t be related to me.
I crush my fists to either side of my head. Clenching my eyes closed, I push back from the table and run down the hall to his bedroom. I’ve got to get away; I’ve got to think this through.
Slamming the door behind me, I fall on the bed. Okay, Shavix played a role in helping Hunter come into being. Franklin, the man Abby says she was sleeping with and married to at the time, is not biologically related to Hunter.
My heartrate begins to slow down. Could Jessica have impregnated Abby with a mere touch? That seems improbable, especially since Hunter is undoubtedly human. Did the genetic testing find any non-human DNA?
Maybe Hunter got a small dose of adira while in utero. Considering I’ve healed him on a couple of different occasions now, and he didn’t break down like Josh did, that could be what happened.
Getting up off the bed, I walk into his master bathroom. Turning on the water, I splash some of the cool liquid in my face. I turn off the water, and lean forward into the mirror. “He’s mine.”
I dry my face and walk back out into the kitchen.
“We’re not—” Hunter begins.
“Siblings,” I finish.
I sink onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me like a blanket.
“Once I got myself under control, I figured it out,” I murmur.
“Finley, I’m deeply sorry. I apologize,” Kezi says, her face stricken.
“It’s okay, Kezi. I wasn’t thinking, only reacting to what you said.”
She slumps back into her chair, a huge sigh ruffling the bangs resting on her forehead.
Brock nudges his elbow with hers. She sits back up. “We could see if Josh is available. He and Hugo were able to fix the time delay thing he talked about during your absence. He might be able to convince Shavix to talk to you over the Window,” she offers.
I look up at Hunter. He nods at me. “That’s an excellent idea.”
Brock gets up from the table and heads to the front of the house. His heavy steps vibrating through the floor even though he makes no noise. Within moments, he’s back. The clear plastic window that allows us to talk across universes cradled in his hands.
Reggie and Abby are standing on either side of Hunter and me. Their hands rubbing and soothing both of us as they wait to witness this new technology. Reggie was beside himself with curiosity when we explained it to them during dinner.
“I’m so excited that you’re not related, Finley. While I’d still love you like a daughter, I’m glad you’ll be able to be one someday,” Reggie says.
A shift and soft thump have me turning around. Reggie is rubbing his shoulder while Abby glares at him. I turn back around so they can’t see my smile. Those two make my heart seriously happy.
Brock turns the screen on and speaks in his native language. It sounds like a lyrical chant, the sounds blending together to make a short song. The link goes live, a haze of static erupting on the screen.
A dull beep, beep, beep sounds.
“Do you know what time it is?” Josh asks, his face heavy with sleep.
“No, nor do I care. We need to speak with Shavix without an intermediary,” Brock says in a no-nonsense voice.
“What’s wrong? Is Fin okay?” Josh looks and sounds alert now.
“She is fine. We need to speak with Shavix, Josh. It is important.”
“Let me see her. I’ll get him, just let me see her.” In the screen we can see Josh getting up and moving around his room. Lights flash on over his head.
We all gather around the screen. I move up into frame. “Hey, Josh. I really am okay. It’s so good to see you in more than just a message. We’ll have to catch up soon, but we do really need to talk to Jessica though. Talk to me while you get him; how’ve you been?”
His blue eyes search my face for a couple moments. He nods. “Good. I’m good. I’m training with Shavix’s Master at Arms. Kezi’s dad? Peppy is good people.” He opens a door and steps through.
The hallways in Ankarrahi buildings blow my mind. Like elaborate screen savers on computers, they move fluidly and seamlessly from color to color. Right now, washes of blue from deepest midnight to palest ice blend and drift across the walls as Josh walks.
“How’s that treating you?” I ask him.
“Not too bad. Brent would love it. Think CrossFit with blades and knives.”
I turn to look at Brent. He definitely looks interested.
“So, what’s going on? It really is the middle of the night here,” Josh says.
“Oh, it’s about dinner time; a little later, actually. We need to talk to him about the prophecy. I’d really like to explain once, so if you want to listen in to the call, that’s fine.”
He nods and turns another corner. He must have turned into a room because the walls are one color, an industrial gray-beige color found in most US government buildings.
Stacks and rows of weapons line the walls. Some look as long as my leg, others would fit into the palm of my hand and still have room left over. Shiny weapons, dull weapons, weapons that look like they haven’t been cleaned after a week-long massacre.
Brock leans forward, his eyes alight with pleasure and interest. “Wait,” he commands Josh.
Josh stops moving.
“Is that a Shemantiv blade?” Brock asks.
Josh quirks an eyebrow. “It sure is. That thing is lethal.” He turns the screen around, so we can see the blade more clearly.
The blade looks longer than my arm as a wicked sheen catches the light from above and sends it in a prism of colors through the screen. Fine symbols or characters are engraved on the broad side.
Brock is all but salivating over the weapon. His pupils are dilated, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. He lifts a shaking hand towards the screen.
“This? This is what revs your engine?” I ask incredulously.
He doesn’t even spare me a glance, wrapped up in his man-mance with an inanimate object of destruction.
Josh chuckles and turns the camera once more.
Brock chokes and I’m pretty sure he dashes a tear from his eye.
I roll my eyes, but don’t bring his unmanful reactions to everyone else’s attention. I’m going to give him crap for the rest of his life though. Inside, I’m rubbing my hands together in anticipation.
Josh comes to a stop in front of a huge door. From the angle behind him, it looks almost three feet higher than his six-four height. Thick wood with black bars running perpendicular to the wood, it looks impenetrable and bomb-proof. Josh puts his hand on a slightly glowing section of the wall.
A purple light slides up
and down his palm.
“You are not cleared to enter, Earth Josh. Please state your business,” a robotic voice says.
“Hey Shavy, I’ve got Fin on the Window. She needs to talk to you; says its urgent.”
A heavy pounding can be heard through the screen, but I’m not sure if it’s coming from behind the door or the weapons room Josh left behind.
“How’s Lando doing?” I ask Josh as we wait for an answer.
“Isn’t he with you guys?” Josh asks, turning to look at the screen.
I turn to check with everyone in the room. Head shakes and a few saying no has me turning back to Josh. “No. Last I saw him he was in the Matrix. He told me to hide and that he would come back for me after he found out which side of the universe I would pop out on. When’s the last time anyone saw him?”
“I saw him about two weeks ago. He was in a hurry, saying something about assassins,” Kezi answered.
“That would make sense. Anixia sent assassins after me on the Matrix. Luckily I was able to evade them.”
Kezi, Brock, and Josh all look at me, their mouths open and eyes wide.
“What? What’s so special about that?” I hold up a hand. “You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’m sick and tired of being special to this degree. Let’s just assume that my awesomeness has no bounds and leave it at that.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I saw Lando yesterday, but who knows how long ago that was in your time,” Josh says. “He was flashing around like an old-school light bulb about to flicker out. Which isn’t really uncommon for him here on Ankarrah. He looks completely different here than he does on Earth.”
“Do you have a way to get in contact with him?”
“No idea. I’ll have to ask Hugo,” Josh says. He opens his mouth to say something else but is interrupted by the door opening behind him.
“Joshua, what are you doing here this late?” A pause. “Or rather this early.” It sounds like an angry elf is standing behind him.
“Shavy, finally. Fin needs to talk to you. Didn’t IO tell you?”
“No, I disabled her. She was annoying me with her constant interruptions.”
“Right. Here’s Fin.” Josh hands the Window down, the angle of the lights shifting higher into the background.
A short, happy elfin cherub face looks into the screen. His silver eyes are so bright I can see tiny reflections of the screen in them. His bald head and rim of silvery-white hair seem to flutter in an unseen breeze. His moustache would do Yosemite Sam jealous.
Abby gasps behind me, a wet sniffle on the end of it. “That’s him. That’s the man who saved my Hunter.”
“Jessica?” I ask, even though it’s already been confirmed. I can’t believe the first time I meet my biological father is through a World Jump Window.
The small man smiles at me, his cheeks rosy and plump. “Yes, that is the name you gave me. I’m still unsure why that causes you to smile. However, to see your smile, I would endure much worse than name choices. Joshua has given me a friend-name as well.” He giggles, very reminiscent of Reggie.
“Hey, we need to talk to you about the prophecy.”
Jessica’s face returns to somber lines. “Yes, of course. Have you figured it out yet?”
“Yeah. While I was hiding on the Matrix, I …” My throat constricts to the point where nothing is coming out of my mouth. Air is barely escaping.
A light of understanding dawns in Jessica’s eyes. “You met the Bulcepts.”
I nod. The pressure releases from my vocal chords. “Yeah. How do you know about them?”
“I know many things.” He shrugs his shoulders. “What did you learn?”
“Well, I’m the Crescent, which to them means I’m the holder of a pure form of all Ankarrahi powers. Similar to our rainbows on Earth. However, I’m not the Ashen Angel. We need you to confirm a couple of things for us.”
I pull Hunter forward, my hand in his. He steps up into the frame.
Jessica looks at him like a lost son. A cramp tightens my belly.
“Hunter, you’ve grown into a handsome man. Is your mother still alive?” Jessica asks.
“I’m here,” Abby says from the back of the group. The group moves out of the way so Abby can see the screen.
“I’m glad to see you are well,” Jessica says.
“I would love a chance to talk with you in more depth, but I think the kids need your attention.” She kisses her fingers and blows it at the screen.
Jessica’s cheeks pinken as he nods. “Of course.”
“Are you Hunter’s biological father?” I blurt out, no longer able to handle the stress.
Jessica looks shocked. “Why do you ask such a question?”
The cramping in my belly increases until it feels like it’s clamping around my lungs, too.
“When Hunter got sick as a kid, they did genetic testing. Franklin was tested as well. The tests concluded that Hunter is not Franklin’s biological son. You’re the only other option for insemination,” I explain. Hunter squeezes my hand. I can feel the tiny muscles in my palm and forearm ache as I relax.
“Really?” Jessica asks, his eyebrow inching up. “I only deposited adira in Abigail’s womb. I wasn’t sure it would work. I never did anything untoward with her.” He bites the words off, his cheeks pink once again.
“Then what happened to the genetic testing? Why would Hunter’s tests show that he’s not biologically related to Franklin?”
“It could be that the adira changed his genetic material.” Jessica shifts his gaze to Hunter. “Have you ever had any other genetic testing done to see if you have foreign material?”
Hunter shakes his head. “No, sir. It was never an issue. I just learned today what happened when I was a child. I didn’t even know I was sick.”
Jessica nods his head, the reflections of the gleaming lights shifting over his bald skull. “Whenever an Ankarrahi provides adira to someone else, it changes them on a molecular level. It typically does not go well, as evidenced by your Joshua.”
Abby’s gasp could be heard in the silence following that statement. “You didn’t even know it would work?” she almost shrieks.
“I’m neither a Fragmenter nor Creative. I tried my best; I’m just glad it worked.” Jessica smiles beatifically.
A low, feminine growl comes from the back of the group. I can imagine Abby’s face alight with subdued fury, Reggie rubbing her arm.
“It’s fine, Mom. I’m fine,” Hunter says to her in a low voice.
I look at Hunter, my eyes huge. “Could your giving him adira while in his mother’s womb account for my successfully healing him on numerous occasions with no ill effects since then?”
Jessica tips his head to the side. He nods a couple of times slowly. “Yes, it very well could be. Although, from what Joshua told me, the extent to which you healed Hunter was more extensive than the healing you provided him. I also gave Hunter more adira when he was sick as a young child. This could also be a contributing factor.”
“When you stopped them in the grocery store, why did you call Hunter an Ashen Angel?” I ask. We need to keep this conversation on track.
“Because he is a blonde miracle. Anixia had been killing blonde babies for centuries.”
“You don’t think he’s actually the Ashen Angel from the prophecy?”
Jessica tips his head to the side again, a thoughtful look on his face. His eyes get a thousand yard look in them.
I wonder what he’s seeing. I’m still not sure Jessica is Ankarrahi, but this isn’t really the time to try to have that discussion. He expertly side-stepped my previous questioning on that score a while ago. I’ll have to be much craftier to get real answers from him.
All of a sudden, his eyes are vibrant and sparkling once more. “Has Hunter displayed any ability to use adira on his own?” he asks, his voice an excited whisper.
Crap, crap, crap.
I turn to look at Hunter. The smile lines bracketing his mouth and e
yes tighten.
“Yes. I had to quit my job as a trauma surgeon because the adira was trying to help me. I wouldn’t have been able to explain the miracles in any medically sound way,” Hunter says, sorrow still catching on the words.
“Your skills could be very helpful here on Ankarrah.” Jessica nods absently. He turns to look at me “You’ve successfully healed Hunter as well, Finley. Are Brockten and Keziry available?” Jessica asks. Something moves in Jessica’s eyes. Something that has my body bracing for impact.
“We are here, Shavix,” Kezi says as she and Brockten step into frame.
Once formal Ankarrahi greetings are done, Jessica jumps in with the questions.
“Has Hunter shown any deterioration?”
“None,” Kezi answers.
“Any ability to shape and mold adira beyond that of a youngling?”
“Yes.”
“Can you sense the connection between Hunter and Finely?”
“Yes.” Kezi looks at me, her eyes wide.
The sick feeling permeating my body weakens my knees. I slump down into the chair, put my head between my legs.
“Have either of you seen them on the Matrix together?”
“I have,” Kezi answers, nodding her head.
“Describe Hunter’s energyscape.” Jessica demands, his cherub cheeks tight under the pink.
“Hunter’s e-scape looks like a less chaotic version of Finley’s. Hers is massive and seems to send out stray bolts of energy at random. Hunter’s does the same, but not nearly as forcefully or as frequently,” Kezi answers.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice muffled. “Why are you asking these questions?”
“Hunter is not my biological son, Finley. However, it seems that you might be his…” Jessica’s voice trails off.
I sit up quickly, the room shifting around me unpleasantly.
“I might be his what?” I yell.
“In Ankarrahi terms of adira ignition, you could be his mother and I his father.”
38
The room is silent. Of all the times for bellowing and outrage, now all anyone can give me is silence.
“I don’t understand.” I meant it as a statement, but my voice turned it into a question.
