by Ted Dekker
Grant pushed his point. “The riots are only an hour old, and there are already six dead bodies out on the lawn, for goodness’ sake. The perimeter around the White House may be reestablished, but they’re tearing the city apart. The people of this nation want one thing, sir, and that’s survival. Give Fortier his weapons. Take the antivirus. Live to fight another day.”
Blair turned away deliberately. This was the same argument, nearly word for word, that Dwight Olsen had made fifteen minutes earlier. Dwight’s motivations were transparent, but Phil Grant was a different animal. This wasn’t like him. He knew the chances of Fortier coming through with the antivirus were next to nil. To show the Frenchman their military teeth and then beg for an antivirus was simply unacceptable. As long as the United States had some leverage, they were in the game. As soon as they gave up that leverage, the game was over.
Grant knew all of this. Blair decided not to remind him.
“I don’t trust the French.”
“I’m not sure you have a choice anymore,” Grant said. “By tomorrow you could have a full-scale civil war on your hands. You represent the people. The people want this trade.”
Blair swiveled around. “The people don’t know what I know.”
Grant blinked. “Which is?”
Thomas’s insistence that he trust no one, not a soul, ran through his mind. Gains, Thomas had said. Maybe Gains, that’s it.
“Which is what you know. Fortier has no acceptable motive for handing over the antivirus when our ships meet his in”—he glanced at his watch—“thirty-six hours now.”
Grant studied him, then set the folder in his hands on the coffee table. “I understand your reluctance. I accept it, naturally. Never could trust the French in a pinch.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “This time I don’t think we have a choice. Not with these riots spreading. New York and Los Angeles are starting up already. The country will be burning by noon tomorrow.”
“That’s better than dead in four days.”
The intercom chirped. “Sir, I have a private call for you.”
Gains. He’d left very specific instructions. Not even the operator knew that it was Gains on the line.
“Thank you, Miriam. Tell her I’ll call right back. Hold all my calls for a few minutes.”
“Yes sir.”
Blair sighed. “Nothing like a mother to love you.” He nodded at the door. “Don’t worry, Phil, I’m not going to let this country burn by noon. Get some sleep—you look like you could use it.”
“Thank you. I just might.”
The director left.
Ghosts, Robert. You’re seeing ghosts.
He withdrew the small satellite phone from his desk drawer, locked the door to his office, and stepped gingerly into the closet. Full-scale riots were raging throughout the city, the first signs of the Raison virus had visited them early with this rash, the bulk of the world’s nuclear arsenal was about to land in the hands of a man likely to use it, and the brave Robert Blair, president of the most powerful country on earth, was huddled in his closet, punching in a number by the green translucent glow of a secure satellite phone.
The call took nearly a full minute to connect.
“Sir?”
“Quickly.”
“We have a go. The Israelis have already directed their fleet as demanded by the French.”
Blair let out a long, slow breath. Other than Thomas, who’d first suggested this plan, only four others on this side of the ocean knew the details.
“How many of them are in on it?”
“General Ben-Gurion. The prime minister. That’s it.”
“Where are their ships now?”
“Approaching the Strait of Gibraltar. They’ll round Portugal and reach their coordinates in just over thirty hours, as requested by the French.”
“Good. I want you on the USS Nimitz as soon as possible.”
“I land in Spain in three hours and will be chopped tomorrow.” Static filled the receiver. “What about Thomas?”
“He’s sleeping,” Blair said. “Depending on what happens in his dreams . . .” He caught himself, struck by the sound of his words. They were banking on dreams?
Yes, the dreams of the same man who uncovered the Raison Strain.
“If all goes well, he’ll join you.”
No one other than Kara and Monique de Raison understood Thomas as well as Merton Gains. He sensed Blair’s awkwardness.
“It’s the right thing, sir. Even if Thomas gave us nothing more, what he’s given us to this point has been invaluable.”
“I’m not sure whether to agree or disagree,” Blair said. “He brought this upon us, didn’t he?”
“Svensson did.”
“Of course. I’m going on air as soon as they can bring in this character Orear, and I’m going to tell the American people that I’m going to work with the French.”
“I understand.”
“God help us, Merton.”
“Yes sir. God help us.”
30
Johan watched the three horses galloping into the canyon toward them. Suzan had found them from the cliff above and waved. Now she led, dark hair flowing in the wind. Born to ride. He remembered her repu-tation as the commander of scouts who could find a single grain of desert wheat in any canyon. As Martyn, he’d feared her nearly as much as he feared Thomas. Intelligence was the key to many battles, and Suzan had matched him at every turn.
He’d never imagined he would ever have the pleasure of riding with her. Seeing her approach with such grace, such beauty, made his pulse quicken. Perhaps it was time to express his feelings for her.
Thomas rode behind her. Odd to think of it, but if he was awake here, it meant he was asleep in his other reality.
Beside Thomas, the woman. The daughter of Qurong.
“He actually did it,” Mikil said beside him. “Look at her ride.”
“Thomas must have taken her by force. The Chelise I knew would never agree to come on her own.”
“Love will compel the strongest woman,” Jamous said with a wink at Mikil.
Johan chuckled. “Love? I doubt love compels the daughter of Qurong.”
“Either way, you’re getting what you argued for,” Mikil said. “We’re about to see just how friendly albinos and Scabs can be together.”
“I didn’t have this in mind. I was speaking of the drowning. And the more I think about it, the more I think I was wrong.”
“Be careful what you hope for.”
Suzan slid from her horse, took two quick steps toward them, and then slowed her pace. Or was it two quick steps toward him? Her eyes were certainly on him. Johan wondered if the others noticed.
Thomas and Chelise had slowed to a trot. Suzan veered toward Mikil and grasped her arms. “Elyon’s strength. It’s good to see you. William?”
“He went on to the tribe with Cain and Stephen.”
Thomas rode in beaming from ear to ear. Chelise stopped beside him, peering tentatively from her hood, face white with morst. She’d placed tuhan blossoms in her hair. This, along with the smooth texture of the morst, was new for the Horde.
Thomas swept his arm toward her. “I would like you to meet the princess. My friends, I present Chelise, daughter of Qurong, delight of Thomas.”
Mikil’s eyes went wide with amusement. Delight? She was a Scab. And did Chelise agree with his sentiment?
Suzan put her hand on Johan’s shoulder. “And this, Princess Chelise, is Johan,” she announced. Had they spoken about him?
Johan stepped out and bowed his head. “It’s good to see you again.”
Chelise was speechless. She’d never seen him as an albino. The poor child was frightened.
Thomas dropped to the sand and reached for her hand. She took it and dismounted gracefully. Thomas held her hand and Chelise made no attempt to discourage him. Had any of them ever seen such a sight? An albino man—Thomas, commander of the Guard—tenderly holding the hand of a diseased woman.
“Actually, the great general is behind you,” Johan said. “His name is Thomas, and I am his humble servant.” He indicated the others. “This is Mikil—you might remember her as Thomas’s second in command—and her husband, Jamous.”
Jamous nodded. Mikil stepped forward. “I can see that you and Thomas have become friends.” She let a moment linger. “Any friend of Thomas is a friend of mine.” She smiled and reached out her hand.
Chelise smiled sheepishly and took it. Welcoming a Scab as Mikil did wasn’t such an uncommon sight—the Circle had led many Scabs into the red pools to drown.
Mikil turned around and sighed. She walked up to Jamous, took his face in her hands, and kissed him passionately on the lips. “I’m sorry, the air is practically dripping with romance. I couldn’t help myself.”
Thomas blushed and tried to set the record straight for the shocked princess. “You’ll have to forgive us, but we aren’t too shy about romance in the Circle. We believe that the love between us isn’t so different from the love between Elyon and his bride. We call it the Great Romance. Maybe you remember that? From the colored forest?”
“I’ve heard rumors,” Chelise said, but the curious look on her face betrayed her ignorance of any such rumors.
They stood in silence.
“Well then!” Thomas clapped his hands together. “The sun is going down, and we would like some meat. We’ve had nothing but fruit all day. Please tell me you’ve hunted down some meat, Johan. It’s the least a mighty general like yourself could do for a princess.” His eyes twinkled. “You do want meat, don’t you, Chelise? You told me how much you love a good steak with your wine. We have wine, Johan?”
“Actually, a simple wheat cake would be fine—”
“Nonsense! Tonight we celebrate. Meat and wine!”
“And what are we celebrating?” she asked. She was growing more comfortable already, Johan thought.
“Your rescue, of course. Johan?”
A shy smile crept across Chelise’s mouth.
“We have three rabbits, and our water is as sweet as wine. Should we risk a fire?”
“You can’t have a proper celebration without a fire. Of course we risk a fire!”
The night was warm and the moon was full, but Thomas hardly noticed. It could be freezing cold and he wouldn’t care. A fire burned in his chest, and with each passing hour he’d embraced its warmth.
So he told himself.
But he was acutely aware of his own growing misgiving at the same time. Just as likely, he hardly noticed the cold night because he was flush with confusion. Where might his odd feelings for Chelise lead them? Seeing his friends in the camp only underscored the peculiarity of his strange romance. He’d boldly called her his delight, of course, but he was feeling like a man with last-minute jitters on his wedding day. What right did he have to make such bold statements so soon and in such contrary circumstances?
The rabbits that Johan had killed earlier filled the camp with a mouth-watering scent. The group made small talk and watched them roast over a spit. There were plenty of issues that could have consumed them in heavy discussion, but Mikil was right: something else was in the air, and it made matters of doctrine and strategy seem insignificant by comparison. There was a romantic tension in the air. The aura of improbable if not forbidden love.
Thomas sat cross-legged close to Chelise, who was seated gracefully on the sand. Mikil leaned back in Jamous’s arms to Thomas’s right. That left Johan and Suzan, the odd couple out. But it appeared they weren’t so odd after all. Whatever feelings they’d hidden before weren’t hiding so well tonight. If Thomas wasn’t mistaken, the man Suzan had spoken of last night was none other than Johan.
“One leg left,” Johan said, reaching for the spit. “Anyone?”
Mikil tossed a bone into the fire and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “The best rabbit I’ve had, and I’ve had a few.”
Johan pulled the leg free. “Suzan?”
Firelight danced in her eyes. She smiled. “No, thank you.”
The way she said it so tenderly—this wasn’t like Suzan, Thomas thought. Why did love change people so? Johan seemed momentarily trapped by her voice.
“Then I think I’ll have it,” he said, sitting back next to her. He took a bite, but Thomas was sure his mind wasn’t on the rabbit.
Chelise watched them, undoubtedly feeling the intoxicant. She stared into the fire, eyes white. “I never realized there was such kindness among the Circle,” she said. “I feel honored to be in your company.”
A piece of wood cracked in the fire.
“And I never would have guessed that the daughter of Qurong could be so . . . gentle or wise,” Mikil said. “The honor is ours.”
Thomas wanted to speak his approval of their acceptance, but he held back.
Chelise lifted her eyes. “How can you love those who hunt you down?”
“We don’t always,” Mikil said. “Maybe if we did, things would be different.”
Flames licked the night air.
Chelise eased her hood from her head. She was baring herself to them.
“I think your eyes are beautiful,” Suzan said.
Chelise looked away from her. “Thank you.” Thomas saw her swallow. Her eyes were beautiful, but none of them could possibly see her disease in the same light he did. They were seeing her through eyes of love, because love was in the air, but they were also pitying her. Her skin was riddled with scales, and her mind was twisted by deception.
If only he could make everything right. A knot rose in his throat. You are beautiful, my love. I would kiss you with a thousand kisses if you let me.
He glanced up and saw Mikil staring at him. She understood. She had to understand!
Mikil shifted her eyes to Chelise. “It must be a wonderful thing to be such a beautiful princess.”
Chelise lowered her head and traced her finger through the sand. Thomas looked away. The sounds of the fire faded. My love, my dearest love, I am so sorry. It’s not what you think.
“Jamous and I will take a walk,” Mikil said. “All this talk of love can’t go unanswered.”
Thomas heard them stand and leave, but he couldn’t look up.
“And so will Johan and I,” Suzan said.
They walked into the night.
Chelise continued to trace the sand by her knees, her finger white with morst to cover her shame. The gentle breeze carried the scent of her disease mixed with perfume.
“It’s okay—”
“No,” she said. “It’s not okay. I can’t do this.” She looked into the black night. “I want you to take me back in the morning.”
Her statement took him completely off guard. It was as if she’d flipped a switch that had powered his hopes. She was right. Nothing was right about his juvenile ambition to win her love.
What was he thinking? Thomas suddenly panicked. He did love her, of course. He wasn’t a schoolboy tossed about by infatuation. His love had to be real—Michal had essentially said so himself!
But the fact that Chelise was a Scab with no intent to change was real as well. The disparity between these two realities was enough to suddenly and forcefully send Thomas into a tailspin.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he offered lamely.
“I don’t belong here.”
Thomas stood. Awkward. Terrified by confusion. She was right. That was what stuck him more than anything. This woman, whom he was sure he had fallen in love with, did not—could not—belong with him. He had been chasing the fantasies of an adolescent after all.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He headed into the night, unaware of where he was going. He had to think. He wanted to hide; he felt ashamed for leaving her. But it was precisely what she wanted.
Thomas rounded a boulder and headed along white s
and, deeper into the canyon. In the morning I will take her back. His vision blurred with moisture. I have no choice. It’s what she wants. If she can’t recognize a gift when she sees one, she hardly deserves it, does she? She should be running to the red pools, but she’s talking about going back.
A tear leaked down his cheek.
“Where are you going?”
Thomas spun toward the voice on his left.
Justin!
Could it be? He stepped back, blinking.
Yes, Justin. He wasn’t smiling this time, and his jaw was firm.
“Justin?”
Justin glanced back toward the boulders that hid the camp. “You left her.”
“I . . .” Thomas didn’t know what to say. Why had he now seen Justin twice in one week? And why was Justin so interested in Chelise?
Justin faced him, green eyes flashing with anger. “How dare you leave her alone! Do you have any idea who she is? I entrusted her to you.”
“She’s Chelise, daughter of Qurong. I didn’t know that you’d entrusted her to me.”
“She’s the one my father prepared for me! You’ve left my bride to sob in the sand!” Justin took several paces toward the camp, then turned back, head now in his hands.
Thomas wasn’t sure what to make of this display.
Justin lowered his hands. “I told you myself, I would show you my heart. I sent you Michal when you began to doubt, and already you’re forgetting. Do I need to show myself to you every day?”
Justin pointed toward the camp. “You should be kissing her feet, not running away.”
“I don’t understand. She’s only one woman—”
“No! She’s the one I’ve chosen to show the Circle my love for them. Through you.”
Thomas sank to his knees, horrified by what he was hearing. “I swear I didn’t know. I swear I will love her. Forgive me. Please forgive me. I . . .”
“Please, hurry,” Justin said. The moonlight showed tears in his eyes. “Her heart is breaking. You have to help her understand. Don’t think I am the only one who wants her. My enemy will not rest.”
