by Thomas Locke
“I sort of hunker down inside.” Dillon stared at the blank white wall above Sean’s head. Seeing only the event. “Deep down. Fit myself in a space that I make right there at the core.”
“Where the power resides.”
“Exactly there. I make a bubble like the one we’ve used to send thoughts, only tighter. And then I stick everything in there. Everything that’s me.” Dillon focused on his brother. “It’s like I’ve already split from my body before I move.”
“I understand,” Sean said. And he did.
“Then I take a quick little right-hand turn. Just shift around. And step out. Like I step into a transit. Only I’m not using my feet because I don’t have any.” Dillon shrugged. “And I’m out.”
Chenel said softly, “It took me months and months to learn what you just described.”
But Sean didn’t have months. He probably didn’t have hours. He needed to do this now. He asked Elenya, “Will you anchor me?”
She was beyond solemn. “Will you take care? Will you come back to me?”
“Yes to both.”
“Then of course I will.”
He waited while she fashioned the invisible belt, then said to Carver, “You’ll need to spot my brother, since that’s been my job.”
When Dillon translated for Carey, she asked, “Can I do that?”
“Later,” Dillon replied, the affection crystal clear in that one word. “Soon. Right now you can time us.”
“Okay,” Sean said. “Let’s go for it.”
The first time was a lot scarier than Sean had expected. The moment of bodily separation felt too much like a small death. Sean’s brain registered an animal panic, like he was underwater and only a second or so from drowning. But he formed the bubble and scrunched down, cramming all that he was inside, just like Dillon had described. Then he wrenched himself free.
As soon as he was out and hovering beside himself, the fear was gone. Like it had never existed. He had one brief instant to look down to where Elenya rested a hand upon his arm. Her affection radiated out and around them both, a unique form of shielding. Sean had never realized until this very moment that her love had a color all its own.
Then he turned to where Dillon hovered, waiting. Sean crossed the mental distance and connected with his brother. He had a fleeting sense of bonding with a fabric of emotion and genetic makeup that linked them in a unique fashion. Love and anger and frustration and all the impossible sentiments from growing through lives that were both individual and joined. Dillon must have felt the same, for he paused in the process of launching. He offered Sean a bodiless version of the warrior’s grin. The schoolyard knight off to save the world. Sean was filled with the familiar surge of exasperation and pride and affection.
Then Dillon took aim. And they flew.
Walls meant nothing. Or space. Dillon aimed and they went. Sean’s brother hunted like a bird of prey. Like he had been doing it all his life. Dillon swooped down the center of the station, a long, swift glide. As they moved, he turned them in a slow circle so their attention went out in every direction. Wherever he aimed, his attention was crystal, vivid, pinpoint. Dillon noted incoming and outgoing trains. Exits. Chambers. People. All of it in swift glimpses.
Gradually Sean overcame the newness and the sensory overload and focused with his brother. As soon as that happened, he sensed the wrongness. Whether it came through Dillon or he tasted it himself, Sean could not say. But it was definitely there. The lingering fragrance played over him like an acid mist. Fraying his shield in tiny gasps of wrongness.
They reached the far end of the station, and Dillon wheeled about, readying for the return. Instantly Sean saw the anchor’s importance. The destination was unmistakable. Elenya’s touch on his arm and her surrounding affection were beacons that guided him with a sureness so intense he was able to release his hold on Dillon and fly alone. Taking himself home.
He opened his eyes. Felt the gasping pleasure of breathing in and out. Reconnected with his body. Life coursing through him. Alive and there with the woman he was coming not just to care for but to see.
Elenya asked, “Are you all right?”
Sean took exquisite delight in sitting up, reaching out with his arms, and holding her. The moment was too intense to allow the smiles and gazes of others to intrude. He whispered, “I saw your love.”
He felt her shift her face where his shoulder met his neck, and knew she was wiping away tears. Knew also it was not his return that frightened her so. But what this success meant. What was now going to happen.
Sean held her until she was ready to let him go. He made a process of settling her in close beside him, holding her hand, then asking, “How long were we gone?”
Carey replied, “Three minutes, sixteen seconds.”
“Dillon, is it always that way, the scent?”
“Or taste, whatever. Yeah, that’s how it seems.”
“But they’re not around now, right?”
“I’m pretty sure they haven’t been back in a while.”
“Me too.” He turned to where Carver stood with Anyon and Tatyana. “Okay. This means the aliens have been here. Inside the station. Several times.”
Anyon was clearly a man struggling with internal conflict. He wanted to doubt and dismiss, and at the same time he desperately wanted to raise the alarm. “You’re certain?”
“Yes,” Dillon said. “We are.”
Sean only told the Watchers the absolute minimum. “You need to hold your hunts to the shortest possible time. I think this scent we’ve found is there because the aliens are making their own quick forays. They dart in, check things out, and leave before we detect them.”
“And that’s what you need to do,” Dillon said. “Every time.”
“Faster than us if you can,” Sean said. “Just long enough to catch the scent and make sure they haven’t come back. Then return.”
Chenel looked at her partner. “Who is up?”
“You,” Baran replied.
Dillon shifted off his bunk. As Chenel took his place, she said, “Describe to me what I’m seeking.”
“Best not,” Dillon replied.
“Go out there and see for yourself,” Sean added. “Something this important, you need to decide without any prompts from me whether it’s real.”
Chenel moved slowly. Carefully. As though already practicing the caution of a tracker entering Indian country on a solitary foray.
Baran fashioned the invisible belt, then took station by her shoulder. One finger of one hand resting on Chenel’s arm. “Ready.”
Chenel shut her eyes. Sighed. And went still.
The entire room held its breath.
Ninety seconds and several eons passed. Then Chenel breathed again. Sat up. Looked at Carver. “Colonel, Counselor, Ambassador, I ask that you note the time.”
Carver was the only one who moved. “Noted.”
“Senior Watcher Chenel hereby gives official notice that the aliens have been here. We must assume they were scouting for an attack. I therefore urge you to raise the alarm.”
51
Nothing happened for almost an hour. Carver explained, “There is resistance from some quarters, even with the Watcher’s confirmation.”
“Resistance,” Dillon said. “Imagine that.”
“They’re asking a senior Watcher to come and confirm. Her name is Insgar.”
Chenel, Baran, and Elenya all showed the same response to Carver’s news. Shock and awe.
Dillon asked, “Who exactly is Insgar?”
“A legend,” Elenya replied.
“The Watcher’s Academy is named for her,” Chenel said.
While they waited, they moved house. Sean didn’t want to risk alerting the aliens. Two swift forays, one by Dillon and the other by Baran, confirmed there was no hint of alien presence beyond the station’s confines. So they took over a café that occupied a small structure between the station and the thoroughfare. Sean’s only glimpse of Cyrius was of a twil
ight snowfall. A few lights flickered through the wintry mist. A brief taste of alien air. And he was inside, the shutters drawn, the world outside lost once more. But Elenya saw his disappointment and moved in close long enough to whisper, “Soon.”
Then they brought in the woman. She was the most ancient person Sean had ever met, a tiny stick of wrinkles and folds. The only things truly alive about Insgar were her gaze and her voice. She peered at them from a padded chair that moved without wheels, two attendants in tow. One wore a Guards’ uniform, the other was dressed in white. Everyone treated her with great deference, including Ambassador Anyon. But she ignored them with the silent impatience of someone who had no time for inconsequentials.
The old woman waved her attendants away, took a slow breath, shut her eyes, and went still. The café was home now to several dozen people, most of whom probably had no business being there. But Sean’s ability to command adults was as limited as ever. So he waited with the others, scarcely breathing.
Insgar opened her eyes, scanned the group, and asked in a voice made toneless by her years, “Where is the adept?”
Carver indicated Sean. “This one has shown the clearest evidence, Mistress. But there are indications that both twins move well beyond what we could class as normal abilities.”
She waved them closer. Sean wondered whether they should bow or something, but decided simply to stand as erect as he could manage. Insgar inspected them with eyes that glittered fiercely. “Gifted and handsome both. Where is your home world?”
“Earth, Mistress,” Sean replied. “An outpost planet.”
She gave a fractional nod. “Which one of you first discovered the aliens?”
Ambassador Anyon demanded, “So you confirm their presence?”
She glanced at him, the swift look enough to silence him. Sean liked her all the more for that act. When Insgar turned back, Sean replied, “It was my brother. Dillon.”
“Actually, it was both of us,” Dillon countered. “Sean is the one with ideas.”
“Not all of them,” Sean replied. “Not that time.”
She liked the exchange. How Sean could tell when there was no change to her expression, he had no idea. She spoke Serenese with a crisp cadence that belied her age. “Two adepts. Is it true what I hear, you can link your thoughts?”
“That move was definitely Sean’s,” Dillon replied.
Her eyes drifted over the silent throng, halting where Elenya stood next to Carey. “These are your mates?”
Sean hated how he was unable to stop his face from reddening. “We are trying to make it work.”
Insgar lifted one hand and motioned. Elenya and Carey stepped forward. Sean noticed they were holding hands. The simple act warmed him immensely.
Insgar asked, “You can transit?”
“I can, Mistress,” Elenya replied. “This one is from their home world.”
She inspected them a moment longer. “You are up to the task of caring for adepts?”
Elenya translated for Carey, who nodded. Elenya looked at Sean and replied, “I will try, Mistress.”
“You understand what I am saying, yes?”
For some reason, the question brought tears to Elenya’s eyes. “I do, Mistress.”
“Good. They need you both. More than any of these others will ever understand.”
Elenya translated again, and Carey turned and looked at Dillon, her gaze molten.
Insgar nodded her approval. “You have a plan?”
“Sean does,” Elenya replied. “He has been touched by the cloud of records.”
Sean added, “Dillon was too.”
Insgar said, “But you are the dominant one. The one who looks beyond the bend of time. Correct?”
Sean wanted to disagree, but Dillon said firmly, “Absolutely.”
Insgar turned to the Ambassador. “I want you to listen carefully.”
“Of course, Mistress. I am—”
“The adepts are correct. The aliens have changed tactics. They have made forays. Do as this one says. This world may yet survive.” She did not wait for a response but instead turned back to Sean. “When this is over and we have won, you will come and visit me. We will have much to discuss.”
52
Reluctantly Sean and Dillon accepted the presence of three more teams of Watchers. But only after authority for the newcomers was transferred to Chenel. The lady was one of them now and understood the need to maintain the lightning-fast forays. She monitored the newcomers until she was certain they both understood the gravity of her orders and obeyed. Sean did not speak with them at all. That first day, he stayed busy trying to teach Elenya how to hunt.
She was a remarkable student, though the process did not come natural, and Sean doubted she would ever find this a comfortable task. Elenya listened with her customary gravity, tried, and failed. Time after time they went through the motions, until they were both too exhausted to continue. She did not grow angry. Frustrated, yes. And her comments certainly took on a very crisp edge. But she swallowed her ire better than Sean ever could and kept at it.
The café now served as headquarters for Sean’s team. He and Elenya used what had previously been the café’s office, where they dragged in a futon and laid it in a corner. Mobile residences were hooked up to serve as bunkrooms and showers and kitchen. Their café was now rimmed by more temporary structures that housed a growing number of people and equipment. Sean did his best to ignore them all. Having the job of teaching Elenya to fly without her body was an excellent way to stay focused.
That night he and Dillon shared a sleeping room, with the girls bunked next door. Before they cut off the light, Sean watched Dillon reach out and touch the wall separating him from Carey. As he did so, there was a soft knock from the other side.
Sean asked, “Have you tried the spook-speak with her?”
“All the time.”
“And?”
“No contact with thoughts. But sometimes when she, you know . . .”
“Reaches out to you in love. I know.”
“You too?”
“When we took off yesterday, I saw this light or something around Elenya.”
“Carey calls it an aura.”
“That’s it.” He smiled into the room’s utter dark. Overhead the heating unit gave off a comforting hum. “I used that as my beacon coming back.”
“Nothing better. Sorry, bro, but I’d much rather aim for Carey than you.”
“Like I want to keep holding your hand one second longer.”
Dillon rolled over. “Sean.”
“Yo.”
“You’re planning something. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Sean did not reply.
“You going to talk about it?”
“Elenya knows.”
“Oh, is that so? And just exactly when were you going to share it with your wingman?”
“Wingman. I like that.” And he did. A lot.
“And?”
“I needed to work out some things first. Like bringing Elenya on board. And making sure I could hunt.”
“So you’ll tell me tomorrow?”
“First thing.”
“Good.” A moment’s silence, then, “And we’re doing this together, right?”
Sean let his eyes drift shut. Satisfied and comforted both. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Over breakfast the next morning, Sean explained what he had in mind. His brother was far easier to convince than Sean had dared hope. Carey was horrified, but Elenya’s strong grip on her hand kept Carey silent.
Dillon only had one question. “It came to you like the hunt concept did with me?”
“Like it was a cloud of an idea, and I just walked through it,” Sean confirmed.
“Then that’s it,” Dillon said.
Carey could not hold back any longer. “Are you serious?”
He gave a warrior’s shrug, equal parts determination and grim humor. “If I had told you I was going to leave my body and go for a walkabou
t, what would you have said?”
“This is different!”
“Absolutely.” Dillon was adamant. “This is one step further. And it’s the right thing to do.”
Elenya demanded, “You truly think this?”
“Totally.” Dillon checked the wall readout. “We’re up in five.”
Elenya slipped into the place Dillon vacated. She pushed his breakfast tray to one side and reached for Sean’s hand. “About the hunting exercise. Perhaps I should accept this is not for me and—”
“I had an idea last night. Something that might help.” He explained what he had in mind.
Elenya gave him that look. The one where she opened her gaze and allowed him to see her hidden depths. “Whether or not it works, I like very much that you try to help me like this.”
They stayed like that, holding hands across the table, until Dillon came for them. Sean felt Elenya’s concern pass through her fingers and into his frame. He knew she was worried about what he intended to try later on, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to tell her it was all going to work out. He wanted to say a thousand things. But this was no time for lies.
The café’s main areas had been split into three sections. The largest was where they had breakfasted, what Chenel and Baran called the ready room. Beside that was the duty chamber. Up by the front door was a smaller room with two desks and a couple of chairs. Carver or Josef or Tirian manned that position and kept most of the others from setting foot inside. This became an increasingly difficult job with every passing hour, but not for Tirian. The former Examiner stopped traffic with his scowl.
Before he settled onto the duty room’s couch, Sean shifted the curtains and looked out at the growing horde that surrounded them.
