The Waif's Tale

by C. L. Stegall

  "And, what is that, then?"

  "I will never, under any circumstance, betray you. I would rather die first."

  A wave of shock flowed over me. The brunt of his words was nothing to the simple fact that, as he spoke them, so openly and honestly, I saw the first tears from him that I'd ever seen. He smiled, even though the tears swept down his face. I scooted up closer to him, wrapping my arms beneath and around him.

  "I love you," I said. I had not spoken those words to any man before. Even Thorne. He squeezed me tight and cleared his throat of the teary choke before whispering in my ear.

  "'I have led her home, my love, my only friend, there is none like her, none.'"

  "What is that?"

  "Alfred, Lord Tennyson. He wrote those words. Yet, I believe undeniably that he wrote them so that I could speak them to you. I love you, Paris. Somehow, I think I always have."

  CHAPTER 61

  1975, The Citadel, Age 98

  P eppered among the bouts of separation due to various separate assignments, I spent the next ten years spending as much time as possible getting to know Garrett better. I also ended up growing to trust him like I'd never trusted another. I thought back over the past century and tried to remember some moment, some action from him that would provide any little reason for not giving in fully to the emotions that had now consumed me.

  I got nothing.

  To be honest, it kind of caught me off guard. I wasn't certain how it was possible that this man had been so steadfast, so perfectly consistent in his ways, his manners and his attitude for a century. Or, even longer, since that was as long as I had known him. It took a great deal of time and introspection before I came up with the only answer I could muster. The only reason for Garrett's consistency had to have been that he was exactly who he presented himself to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  After what I had been through with Thorne, when it came to earning my trust and faith, actions spoke louder than words. In the end, Garrett won me over. It did not come without some resistance, however. Such as the first time we ever fought. Strange that the argument wasn't even about us.

  "Don't be like that," Garrett said, leveling his piercing gaze at me as if I were the one who'd fucked up.

  "Like what?" I whirled about to face him straight on.

  "You're angry. I understand. but you can't just push that aside as if it's nothing."

  "Why not?" I asked. I consciously removed my hands from where they'd planted themselves against my hips. I'd seen her do that far too many times. I would not be that way.

  "Dawn pisses you off with her overbearing demeanor, orders you around – which is her job, I might add – and you take it. Then, you fume for days on end. If you weren't who you are, I would be worried that you'd give yourself a heart attack."

  "What, pray tell, is your point?"

  "Let loose."

  "Huh?" He peered at me with very little expression but I could see what he was doing. I was not about to give in.

  "Get angry. Hit something. Hit me." His slight shrug at that last suggestion only served to irritate me more.

  "Why would I hit you? You're not the one pissing me off. Yet."

  "Hmm. Let's just see about that." I waited as he prepared his next statement. I almost held my breath. "What's the deal with all of these books? I can barely walk in here. Why not get rid of the ones you've read multiple times? Make some space."

  I stared at him in shock. "My books?" I sputtered. "You want me to throw away my books?" It was the most preposterous notion I could have imagined. How could he ask me to get rid of my books?

  "All they're doing is cluttering up the place. Face it, you're a book hoarder."

  "Don't call me that! I need those. They're mine, they're part of me. You know that." My face flushed. I wanted to begin my breathing exercises but, then, Garrett stepped over to the stack of novels by my reading chair and picked one up, glimpsed the name on the spine. He turned back to frown at me.

  "Where The Red Fern Grows. How many times have you read this?"

  "Don't touch that," I commanded. "Many times. What does it matter?" I realized that my hands were clenching and unclenching in an effort to control my voice. It wasn't working.

  Garrett stared me in the eye and then haphazardly tossed to book to the floor by the door. His eyes were still fixed to mine when I turned my gaze from the discarded book to the smug expression that now blanketed his face.

  "Damn it! Why'd you do that? You have no right." My voice was higher than normal and I felt my pulse throbbing in my neck. "Why are you doing this?"

  "You need to get rid of the clutter."

  "Don't tell me what I need to do. Who the hell do you think you are?" I stalked over to halt only a breath away from him.

  "You need to get rid of the clutter," he repeated. The simple fact that he had said the same thing twice set my nerves on fire and I could not prevent myself. I punched him in the chin. His head rocked backward but he maintained his position. "Still too cluttered," he said, looking down at me. So, I punched him again. This time, he wobbled backward a little.

  "Why aren't you fighting back?" I said through clenched teeth. As I spoke the words, my forefinger poked him in the chest on each syllable.

  "Because I'm not the one with the clutter."

  I drew back to throw another punch when my own stupidity reached up and struck me across my own face. My eyes widened and I took a step back, my hands going to cover my mouth. I stared at Garrett who just stood there, his eyes easy upon mine, no hint of anger or discontent on his face.

  "You bastard."

  "At least I got a couple of punches out of you." His smile caused me to burst into tears. His arms wrapped around me. "Let loose," he said once again. "You can't keep this shit bottled up inside. It's bad for you. Trust me, babe."

  "You sacrificed yourself to make a bloody point? You're insane." I buried my face in his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt soaking up my tears.

  "Nah. Just in love."

  * * * * *

  A little while later Garrett received a long-term assignment from the Hierarchy. He would be gone for several months. As always, before departing, he pulled me close and whispered into my ear.

  "'I have led her home, my love, my only friend, there is none like her, none.'"

  "I love you, too," I replied. He always spoke those words to me, whenever he left and as soon as he returned. For over a decade, he had not failed in that action. I loved him all the more for his impeccable consistency and the immeasurable weight he put behind each of those wonderful words.

  Once he was gone, I spent a few hours cleaning my quarters, packing up the books that littered the floor and overflowed the shelves. I boxed up the ones I could do without, leaving my favorites lining only one set of shelves. I would plan a very special homecoming for my man when the time arrived.

  I left my quarters and headed to the Abode to see what was going on. Even though I always took a day off whenever Garrett would leave or return, I realized I needed some distraction. Perhaps Dusk would be up for a game of chess.

  "Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Paris," Cairo said, as I entered the room.

  "Infamous? What am I infamous for, exactly?" I made my way to the bar and waited as he poured me a tall vodka.

  "Your disappearing act, of course," he said, sliding the glass to me. I harrumphed and threw back a long slug of the drink. I then turned to Dusk, who was deep in a chess battle with London. I knew it wouldn't take him long to demolish her.

  "I've got next, Dusk," I said. He never even looked up, still concentrating on his pieces. Instead he just nodded twice, slowly.

  "She's actually giving him a run for his money," Dawn said, pulling up a stool next to me. My eyes caught hers and she added, "I'm sorry about the other day. I was not having a good one. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

  Cairo had been mixing a martini but at Dawn's words the shaking ceased immediately. His eyes widened but his mouth remained shut.
For that, I thanked all that was holy in the world. Vi had been sitting on the couch. Even she turned to see what would follow.

  "It's okay," I said. "We all need to vent sometimes. We're all friends here. We can take it." I smiled at her, lifted my glass in a faux toast and drank to her returned grin. That was all that was said.

  "Garrett is off again?" Vi asked.

  "Of course he is. Paris is here, right?" Cairo piped in, going back to shaking his martini.

  The Guard had been quick to realize that this relationship, unlike the one I had with Thorne, was something I was deadly serious about and after a few minor quips in the late 60's, after which I had threatened to end Vi if she mentioned it again, the whole thing was dropped from all outward conversation. I was no fool, however. I knew that they kept up with the gossip, regardless of my wishes.

  London was always a constant supporter, continuously mocking my self-doubt and bouts of waffling. Everything seemed so damned good that I thought it had to be a dream. Something would break. Something would shift and then tear into my heart a million times worse than it had with Thorne. All those moments, London walked me through the simple logic and the evidence to the contrary. Until the point when I had given in and she told me I was the hardest case she'd ever encountered. Personally, I took that as a compliment.

  CHAPTER 62

  1985, The Citadel, Age 108

  O ne of the pivotal moments in our relationship came when Garrett shared with me his theory of connectivity when it came to the Valensi. It was in the late seventies and we had follow-up conversations along the same lines for many years afterward. His theory was that of valence.

  "Do you know much about quantum mechanics?" Garrett asked me one day, while we were splayed out on my sofa, recuperating from a wonderful bout of lovemaking. I glanced at him and realized that I was one of the few people he knew who read voraciously and might actually have some familiarity with the subject.

  "A little," I said. "Should I ask where this is going?"

  "Well, you see," he said, "I have a theory about how we are all connected in this world. I have found that my theory applies, in somewhat dramatic essence, to the Valensi more than anywhere else."

  "Okay, you have my attention."

  "Back in 1916, a very interesting chemist by the name of Gilbert Lewis discovered the idea of the covalent bond. This is where, in chemicals, there is an overlapping or paired bonding of electrons. I recall he named it the odd molecule but, today, I think the more familiar term is free radical.

  "Anyway, the idea struck me many years ago that there was some adherence to this logic, this bonding of electrons to other electrons in order to form a new molecule, that perfectly described how our own race breeds new members."

  "I'm sorry, hon'" I replied. "I think you've lost me. Once again?"

  He sat up and I could see he was running thoughts through his head as his eyes scrunched up and he prepared to regale me with his theory. "So, let's try this. Have you ever heard of the term valence?"

  "You mean like a bed skirt?"

  "No. That's valance. I mean valence. In chemistry, it is the term used to denote the number of separate bonds a single element can combine with in order to form new molecules. For instance, if an element had four different valent bonds – or electrons which could be paired with other electrons – then its valence would be four."

  I nodded, understanding the basics of what he was referring to but was still uncertain of how that tied in to the Valensi. My open expression led him to continue.

  "So, think about it," he said. "We are all connected in some way, whether by ancestry or, in the case of the Valensi, by blood. Our blood is the means by which we procreate. I take it you've noticed that there are no Valensi children."

  This was the age-old question that it seemed no one wanted to discuss or even address. My curiosity was maxed out at this point and I caught myself leaning forward and nodding vigorously.

  "That's because our bodies' metabolism overwhelms the natural biological functions that would allow for procreation. Personally, I've always thought it was nature's way of limiting our expansion due to our longevity." He could see my mouth open and he cut me off before I could ask the obvious question. "I've looked. I cannot find any information on how the Valensi actually came to be."

  "Don't you think that's weird?" I said.

  "A little. but it all plays into my theory."

  "Explain." I had cocked my head as I demanded he lay it out for me and I was little perturbed that he smiled widely at me.

  "Let me put it this way: how do we grow as a race?"

  "We bring new members in through the birthing ceremony." Something clicked in the back of my mind but I let him continue.

  "Exactly. By the taking and then sharing of our blood. Think of each of us, individuals, as the element. Then, think of our blood as the electron that can bond with another electron to make a new molecule."

  "Holy shit," I said, taking a breath. "We each have our own valence, right?"

  " but, it's more than that. In chemistry, each molecule has a limited number of valence bonds. We," he said, pointing to himself and then back to me, "have a valence of infinity."

  "Meaning we can bond with any number of humans to create a new individual Valensi. Damn."

  "Interesting theory, no?" he said with that smile that masked the killer inside of him with an undeniable innocence and desire for knowledge. It was then that I realized why I loved him so. He was just like me.

  "I have to say that only someone who has spent a great deal of time alone, lost in thought, would have that level of introspection." He nodded in response.

  "I've spent far too much time alone, I admit." He scooted his body closer to mine and then leaned in for a kiss I could not deny him. Pulling back only enough to look into my eyes, he said, "But, if you would allow it, I will do my damnedest to make sure that the two of us are never alone, ever again."

  CHAPTER 63

  1988, The Citadel, Age 111

  H aven't seen you in a while, girl," Cassie said, as I met her in the hallway that led to the cafeteria. I smiled, unable to conceal my guilt for being incommunicado while Garrett was in the Citadel from assignment. He had only left again the past evening.

  "Sorry, Cassie," I replied. We wrapped each other in a hug. Over the past couple of decades she and I had grown closer. Once or twice a month we would share a meal and just talk. I had found her to be a very interesting and congenial person. She was funny and full of life. Still, there were times when I felt she was hiding something. Something dark. As I tended to do with friends, however, I decided to let her share that with me whenever she wanted to, if at all. Regardless of the abilities I now commanded, there was no reason to go delving into my friends' innermost thoughts and secrets.

  "You have time for breakfast?" she asked.

  "Sure. I was headed that way." I hooked my arm in hers and guided her toward the smell of food.

  "So, how are things going?"

  She had left the question ambiguous but I knew she was asking about Garrett. I leaned into her a little. "It's going fine." I was shocked to find that I almost giggled like a schoolgirl.

  "That's good to hear," she said. Again, I found that there was something behind the smile that didn't quite reach her hazel eyes. I forced myself to let it go.

  We chatted about this and that, all the while wolfing down copious amounts of breakfast foods and fruit juices. Cassandra was heading out on a fact-finding mission for the magistrate, so she was busy making sure all of her work ducks were lined up and ready to be without her for a little while. I knew I had a new assignment waiting for me back at the Abode so we finished up and bid each other farewell with another warm hug.

  As I watched her go, I realized how elegant Cassandra was. She was at least six inches taller than I was and her long raven black hair was always beautifully straight and lustrous. She walked with the air of someone who had come from royalty—back straight, head high. In my eyes, my f
riend was quite a woman.

  CHAPTER 64

  1988, The Citadel, Age 111

  W ell, well," Vi commented upon my arrival at the Abode. "Back from another honeymoon?" I almost threw her a dark look but decided it wasn't worth it. I had long accepted that Garrett was who I was with and would be with for as long as possible. No amount of ribbing could change my feelings now.

  "Ready to rock and roll," I replied, blowing Vi a kiss, much to her dismay.

  "What the hell happened to you?" Cairo asked, staring at me over a bottle of Jack Daniels. He was finally conversing with me in a civil and rather regular manner these days and I didn't want to fuck that up.

  "Nothing. Just in a good mood, I guess."

  "That's perfect," Dawn chimed in. "Dusk, do we have something for little Miss Chipper, here?"

  "Why, we do indeed," he said in response.

  "Something not boring, I hope," I said, as I leapt over the back of the sofa and landed with a whoosh from the thick cushion.

  "Oh, so boring," Dawn replied.

  "The magistrate has a special, easy-cheesy assignment for you," Dusk stated. "You get to play escort to none other than Miss Cassandra Dreys."

  "Excuse me," I said. After having just seen Cassie, I remembered that she'd said she was going on a fact-finding mission. Still, this felt a bit odd.

  "You know," Cairo said, "The Madge's squeeze?"

  "Oh, for God's sake, stop calling him that." I frowned at Cairo, who only smiled and slugged back a rather large shot of whiskey.

  "The man has specific instructions for you. Report to him at four o'clock today." Dusk then ignored me and ran through various other assignments with the others. I sat pondering why Cassie would need an escort. What kind of fact-finding mission was this to be? I wondered.