Eyes Love & Water

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Eyes Love & Water Page 36

by Pamela Foland


  Tina glared at him, despite a shiver Ben thought might be fear, and wagged her finger under his nose, "You calm down Mister or I'll sedate you! I want you in that chair and shut up! This is exactly why I waited to tell you!" Tina managed to back Ben into the chair beside her desk.

  Ben felt it and fell back into the padded seat. Tina still hadn't moved into a real office, but she had graduated to having her own furniture arranged in her exam room. "Exactly when did Nick leave?' Ben managed in a calmer tone. He could smell Tina, her scent tickled the back of his nose, actively calming him.

  "Right after Gene began your treatment. He had wanted to talk to Gene, to find out if there was any way to go to Miranda," Tina spat out her sisters name in a tone of voice Ben recognized, it was exactly the one he used for Nick, "I told him it would have to wait until after your procedure. Somehow Nick got me flustered, and I told him everything. Then he made me help him find her. He was going with or without my help, I didn't want him to end up in dark hands. I knew Miranda would at least keep him safe so..."

  Ben suddenly understood how Nick had managed to get Tina "flustered", and the ambiguous comment Angela had made about a pairbond. He could feel it in action with every whiff he got of Tina. He plugged his nose, "You know, I think Gene is very right when he says your change will come soon."

  Tina's eyes widened and her nostrils flared. He could practically feel her words before they hit. "What in the Universe does that have to do with Nick wandering around on a plague world," Ben was wrong; she was even louder than he had expected, "and why are you holding your nose like that you look like a moron!" Tina swatted his hand down, brushing her fingers over his lips.

  Animal thoughts shuddered through Ben, almost intense enough to override a lifetime of cultural conditioning. Fortunately Ben knew it for what it was and leapt backwards over the chair to get something between him and Tina. "She was just a girl, barely more than half his age," Ben chanted in his head. With his mouth Ben growled at Tina in a tone which refused her disobedience, "Tina, go get Gene, and don't come back."

  Tina backed away stunned, and fled in tears. Ben's thoughts quickly flipped to apologetic as soon as she left the room. He wished he could have been gentler with her. Much gentler, a rogue portion of his mind suggested. Ben slammed a mental closet door on that thought.

  Gene entered the room with more spring in his step than he'd had in days, "I understand from Tina that there is a problem."

  "Yes, I need to go to Miranda," Ben blurted. Those hadn't been the words he planned on. He'd thought to say, "Hello Gene, is there something you could give me to keep me from raping Tina when she enters the room," or perhaps something subtler, "Hey, Gene, how about that Tina." Instead he leapt right to the point he didn't know he'd come to; if he had to pairbond with someone he wanted it to be Miranda.

  "You feel better? No pain?" Gene asked.

  Ben searched himself, "I am fine."

  Gene looked him over. Nodding to himself, Gene retrieved an Everett meter, "One last thing, I need to test you. After what you went through there are three potential outcomes when it comes to your abilities: One, they freeze where they are, never to increase one digit from the point you were at when I began. Two, they're reduced dramatically, potentially making you as deaf as I am. Or three, they skyrocket a bit and assume the traditional Briaunti fluctuation patterns. Before I can okay you going I need to know which it was." Gene placed the device on Ben's head and flipped it on.

  Until that moment, Ben hadn't given a second thought to what might have been happening with his telepathy. He'd been too busy adjusting to other things. He wasn't really contemplating it even then. His thoughts just swerved to searching Miranda out. He hadn't felt her mind since just after they returned with Nick. Now he felt, something, a beacon, a light, Her! Thought of Gene and the test fled. Ben wanted Miranda, and he just went. He wasn't there to see Gene's face as he disappeared from beneath the helmet, a supposedly impossible feat, which even if the test results weren't clear spoke volumes as to which of the three had happened.

  Ben appeared in the same alley as Miranda had. He knew it; he could smell her and feel her trace. He knew where she was he could feel her; see her as though there weren't distance or matter between them. She was just a few blocks ahead, in a building. Ben almost teleported to her, amazingly caution stopped him. Someone might make note if there were too much teleportation traffic. Instead, Ben used his feet. He walked, following Miranda's almost impossibly faint scent trail, up to barricade made of junk cars. Then over it he climbed. On the other side Ben followed his nose into a grocery store. It didn't take long to confirm she wasn't there. It was full of the smell of illness, and a scent like hers but different, male.

  Ben's guts ground, he had found Nick, not Miranda. He turned to leave but a firm hand on his shoulder restrained him. It was Nick, with a small cup of something. "This is for you, drink it, trust me you don't want to get sick."

  Ben accepted the cup. It was spit. The nose said Nick's. Ben wanted Miranda. He almost threw the spit back in Nick's face, but the sudden realization of a gnawing at the fringes of Ben's cells changed his mind. He was already infected, and that was far too dangerous. Ben swallowed and shoved the cup back at Nick. He offered his rival no words; he just turned to find Miranda.

  "She's at the church down the street," Nick offered, "but she wants to be alone."

  Ben grunted, yanking back on the reigns of wordless violence. The veneer of civilization learned through his life thinned the longer he put Miranda off. Retreating from the desperate urge to make his rival bleed Ben searched out the church.

  Halfway down the next block, Ben found a church, but was it the right one. Ben shoved the door open quietly and stepped silently into the coat room. Within moments his ears confirmed success.

  "Anyway big guy that's the sum of things. I don't know what to do about it, so if you could send some help my way on it I'd appreciate it." Miranda's voice was submissive and roughly affectionate. The tone shocked Ben almost as much as hearing her ask for help, "Anyway thanks and uh, Amen."

  She was praying, god help him Ben would've never imagined it but she was. That of course explained why she used a tone Ben hadn't thought her capable of. Briefly Ben was jealous of the almighty. Shame shook Ben right out of his hormone induced madness. He almost fled right then and there. He would have except that Miranda stepped into the coatroom just then. Ben watched her expression slip from companionable contentment to the glassy blank one she seemed to reserve only for him.

  "Taken to spying? Her tone was almost hostile, "How much did you hear?"

  "I heard you asking him to send some help your way on something. I don't know what it is, but I'm here."

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  Chapter 22

  Innocents In No Sense

  -----------------------------------

  Miranda thought of Nick, dispensing the tenuous treatment to the survivors back in the quarantine zone. Ben had insisted they leave him. Miranda hadn't really objected. When the serum had arrived from Gene it had been a readymade excuse to leave Nick behind. The attached warning had been enough to ensure this trip went through. The serum would work on the current and past versions of the plague, but they had to stop the release of the final version.

  Miranda followed her nose, actually her telepathy. It took her some time and concentration to locate a diffuse epicenter of the psychokinetic power, but when she did she knew it had to be Ellen. The pattern of diffusion was exactly the same as the one the old woman had taught her on that awful muck-world. A truth which only served to confirm everything Miranda had already guessed. She could have easily teleported to the site, but despite the need for haste to prevent Ellen releasing the next version of the plague, the one that would kill all the remaining survivors on this world, Miranda knew that any active use of her own abilities would tip Ellen off. The trouble was that they couldn’t approach on foot either since Ellen would sense them both coming.


  “We need suppressers,” Miranda finally thought out loud.

  Ben blinked at her, tilting his head. She could practically see his thoughts trying to trace the path of hers. Generously she lowered her shields and let him peek at her reasoning. “Okay, I’ll talk to Gene.” Ben replied after a moment. Sluggishly he searched his pockets for his pop-pad.

  Fifteen minutes later, properly suppressed, they continued on. Miranda could still follow the telepathic beacon despite the suppresser, but only barely. It was like a faint smell. Eventually they came to a hospital. Of course Ellen needed some equipment, and the hospital did have that equipment. Miranda had found the building, but couldn’t narrow it down any further with Ben so near. She waved him back and began checking windows, hoping Ellen was set up on the ground floor. Miranda got lucky with the third window she checked. It was the cafeteria. Miranda could see Ellen set up and working at the far end of the room, near the kitchen.

  Ben slid up to the window beside Miranda and peaked in. “One of us needs to go in there and distract her. Then the other can sneak in and neutralize the plague,” Ben whispered, and started for the main entrance to the hospital.

  Miranda followed, “I'll do the distracting, you handle the plague.”

  ANo, I'll be the diversion, you handle the plague,” Ben insisted.

  Miranda did a double take. She knew she could keep Ellen occupied, and was the only one of the two that even had a chance against Ellen’s abilities should it go sour. Not to mention that as a former human, Ben wouldn’t be on Ellen’s short list of allies. A plan to change his mind formed. Miranda smiled and rubbed her palms together.

  “How about this? I'll flip you for it,” She suggested in an almost demure voice. Ben searched his pocket for a coin. Failing to find one, he held out his hand. Miranda knew he wanted her to give him the coin. Little did he know she would do the flipping.

  “Fine heads I win, tails you,” Ben began. Miranda interrupted him mid-sentence, grabbing his outstretched arm and using it to fling him to a sharp landing on his butt. “Arghh!”

  “You landed on your tail. I do the distracting you splat the plague.” Miranda announced. She removed her suppresser and gestured for him to leave his on. Then she left Ben to rub feeling back into his posterior and follow her lead.

  Miranda felt Ellen notice her immediately. It was a flash of surprise followed by a lingering sense of contemptuous vanity. Miranda could practically see Ellen shaking her head in mock dismay.

  “You can’t stop me.” Ellen’s thought voice echoed in Miranda’s skull. Miranda didn’t respond, she just made noisy progress towards the cafeteria. “Unless you’re coming to help don’t bother.”

  Miranda forcibly shunted aside the rest of the thoughts Ellen aimed her way. What little note Miranda took of them marked them as increasingly nonsensical. Rather quickly Miranda came into range of hearing, only to discover Ellen airing the thoughts out loud as well.

  “. . . this is all about the memories of the darkness, shades of the graffiti after it has been scrubbed from the walls. Nobody wants to be reminded. So consciously or unconsciously they avoid the evidence, deny it happened, and in so doing they guarantee that it isn't over. It's natural, even at our best we want nothing more than to cease our vigilance. To let our watch retire from the gate, to celebrate the victory forgetting the Trojan gift in our courtyard. So drunken in our success we dine, the last supper before the long fall from grace.”

  Miranda finally came through the cafeteria doors, “Ellen, I think you've lost it.”

  Ellen turned to face her wielding a beaker filled with what smelled like gin. “I say I've finally found it, the solution to the Chinese puzzle in which we are trapped. You and I know the Truth.”

  Miranda waded around a sea of cafeteria furniture until she was within feet of Ellen. “What truth?”

  Ellen leapt onto the cafeteria counter and flung the beaker past Miranda. “That it doesn't matter, none of this! It all ends up the same.”

  Miranda stood solid, not even flinching as the beaker missed her by less than a foot, “You know the truth? Since the beginning of this, I've run into an old crone on almost every world I've visited. Following the chronological trail through space-time, it turns out there she's been on each world, smaller and more bitter than on the last. Now she- you are going to stand in the way of me helping these people. Worse than that, you are the one killing them. And you are blaming your actions on Truth. What is wrong with you?”

  “They started the plague!” It was an ominously quiet declaration; with her mind's eye Miranda could almost see Ellen as a petulant child whining it with hands on hips.

  Miranda wallowed in that thought for a moment, in a way it was almost true. She shook her head, no, this world wasn’t responsible. “You haven't any proof of that! Even if -”

  Ellen leapt in, not allowing Miranda to protest, “I have all the proof I need!”

  Miranda took a measured breath, “Even if they did it, that doesn't mean they deserve to die! Who gave you the right to say they die?”

  “My power is my right!” Ellen exploded, telekinetically flinging empty plates at Miranda swerving them aside just before they hit. Miranda didn’t even let herself blink.

  “Let me tell you a story I heard on one of the worlds you didn't show up on. Long, long, ago, there was another entity. Strong, powerful, beautiful, a shining example of his kind, one day he started believing his own press. He got up in his boss's face and told him he was going to take over.” Ellen faked a yawn and patted her mouth. “You know what happened next? His boss smacked him around and booted him. After that he lost his luster. Ya, know what his name was? Lucifer.”

  A harsh laugh exploded from Ellen's mouth, “You are going to tell me that with all you've seen, and all that has happened in your life, You believe in god?”

  Miranda blinked and pouted. She looked at Ellen, her hero, and felt her chest tighten. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as in a flash she contemplated all of the things that had happened. “After all I've seen I know he's there. After years in the presence of one how could I ever deny the other?”

  “You are a piss ant fool! If god existed he wouldn't have let all of this crap happen! Hell maybe he does exist, but even I -”

  “Don't say it Ellen! Didn't you catch the moral of my story. You've already admitted you have a problem with pride!” Miranda saw a flash of Ben's clothes coming up behind Ellen. She buried it in her mind. If Ellen discovered him she would kill him just to spite Miranda.

  “Come on Ellen, give me your water,” inwardly Miranda begged to keep Ellen from looking back towards Ben.

  A confused look passed across Ellen's face, “You are being ridiculous. This isn't evil! It's justice!”

  “Then give me your water.”

  Ellen growled, “Shut up about water! Leave me alone!” Miranda stared down Ellen in response. “If you want water why don't you come take it?”

  Miranda stood firm, Her mouth forming a condescending smile. That was enough to set Ellen's eyes burning. Ellen lunged at Miranda with a howl. Miranda braced herself but was taken off guard when Ellen teleported them both to Altan.

  The sudden heat almost knocked Miranda off her feet. Instead it took Ellen's head impacting Miranda's chest to send them both tumbling down a dune. Their tumbling decent brought them down the slip face of the dune to the base of the trough between dunes. Miranda climbed to her knees. Reflected and re-radiated heat slammed at her from below and both sides while the sun beat down from above. Miranda recognized the sweet fragrance of the dust, and held her breath lifting her head in preparation to rise. That’s when she came eye to eye with Ellen, who was also on her way up.

  Miranda’s eyes bored into Ellen’s. They were still the almost gray blue they had always been, but now somehow they were dark, dark like other eyes... Suddenly Miranda’s guts turned to ice. Despite the baking desert heat, Miranda felt like she would never be warm again. Miranda shivered and bounced upright, repelled
by those eyes.

  Ellen flinched away from Miranda’s reaction. For a moment an anguished expression passed across Ellen’s face. It vanished without a trace as she clenched her teeth and steeled herself. Ellen’s momentary hesitation gave Miranda extra time to recover. Extra time but not enough, Miranda hadn’t even recovered her wind when Ellen pounced on her again. It was a silent attack; a hand followed by the opposite foot searched to collapse Miranda’s windpipe. Miranda ducked both with a shuffling side slip. The sand handicapped her, slowing her feet. Ellen on the other hand showed the benefit of many years of practice on desert sands, with a run up the face of the dune behind Miranda leading into a flying tackle reminiscent of professional wrestling. Ellen plowed into Miranda’s back driving her face first into the sand. Miranda sealed her lips against the grit to no avail. Grinding sand between her teeth, she threw off Ellen and rose into a crouch. First blood still waited to be drawn in this duel.

  Miranda’s focus briefly wandered from the fight to whether or not Ben had neutralized the plague. A screech of rage and another fierce tackle told Miranda her thoughts had been overheard. Miranda checked her shielding; it was intact she hadn’t lowered her defenses. That drew Miranda to a more dangerous observation. Somehow Ellen’s psychokinetic abilities were building fiercely, rapidly, to a peak beyond anything Miranda had ever experienced. Not even the Darkone’s mind touch was so strong. Ignoring Ellen’s physical attack as much as possible, Miranda attempted retreat. Ellen’s building power levels prevented a teleported escape, while the sand and continuing attack made physically running hard.

  Each moment the psychokinetic tension built. Ellen barely seemed to notice. Miranda could feel almost electric sparks from it. Shortly, Miranda realized that there was no way to get out of Ellen’s swiftly building range of rage, without teleporting and perhaps not even then. Instinct told Miranda that soon, within seconds, the pseudo-charge would have to go to ground somehow, and that there was only one real lightning rod in the area, her.

 

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