Topaz Dreams

by Marilyn Campbell

  "Contact with me? What did I do?"

  This time he gave her a broad smile. "What did you do? For me, it seems, your very existence threw me into a state of frustrated confusion." He turned her hand over and traced the outline of her thumb and fingers, drew a circle on her palm, then repeated the pattern.

  Steve felt the goose bumps rise on her arm in response to his absent-minded caress, but rather than pull her hand away, her fingers flexed to give him better access to the sensitive skin between.

  "The first time I saw you, I desired you. I do not expect you to comprehend my reasoning completely, but I believed giving in to desire would result in the loss of some or all of my gifts. I thought I was being forced to make a choice between my mental abilities and emotions. Yesterday I finally realized my powers have increased in a vein parallel to my emotions.

  She felt her cheeks grow hot and had to look away from him. "So that was why—?"

  "I quit fighting my attraction to you," he finished. "You are nervous now. There is no reason to be. I will not break my promise." But he did not stop his sensuous stroking of her palm.

  "I still don't get it. Why would making love to me be different from any other woman you've been with? They do have sex in Innerworld, don't they?"

  Falcon laughed. "Yes, Steve, they have sex. In fact, they are much more casual about that physical activity than your people seem to be. But, as an empath, I had no personal knowledge of desire, until recently. What makes you different is that you are the first woman I desired."

  "But surely . . . You're shaking your head. You can't mean I would have been the first?" He nodded. How ridiculous! This had to be the greatest come-on line she had ever heard. A man that looked like him should have had hundreds of conquests by his age. The whole concept of a grown man being a virgin was completely alien to her.

  She tensed with comprehension. Falcon stilled his hand. "There's one question you haven't answered yet. What are you, Falcon?" When he did not answer, she prodded, "Are you human, or something else? Your eyes are so different." Her fear returned. "Oh, God. You even asked if you seemed human to me." She tried to pull her hand back, but he held it tighter. "Let me go."

  "Please let me explain. I said I will tell you the truth, and you have not given me an opportunity to respond. I am half human. My father was a human, from the planet Norona. My mother is felan, from the planet Emiron. I inherited my gifts from her; my appearance, with the exception of my eyes, from him. Therefore, I am human and something else." He did not want to know what she was feeling, but he could not stop it from coming to him. Her hand had become cold and clammy, and she swallowed several times, as if attempting to control a rebellious stomach. He only wanted her to know about him so she would not be frightened. Instead, she was repulsed by him. There was no comfort he could offer her when he was suddenly in urgent need of it himself. He opened his hand and let her pull away.

  None of this is real, Steve told herself. It's more of the dream, and I'll wake up in a minute, and everything will be normal. And I will never have hungered for love from an alien life form.

  For the second time in twelve hours, Falcon watched Steve walk away from him, without knowing how to make things right. His chest felt as if a battle-ax was lodged in it. Having feelings might have some positive aspects, but the negatives were truly unbearable. Falcon had never been disturbed by his mixed heritage, nor had he ever been a target of prejudice or disapproval because of it. Suddenly, through Steve's eyes, he saw himself as a freak of nature. "What are you?" she had said. He recalled the explanations he had been given in his youth, and never thought to question them.

  For a thousand years the felan population on Emiron consistently declined. They devoted their lives to developing and improving their mental powers, particularly empathy. In doing so, they gradually relinquished their physical strengths, and replaced their own personal emotions with those they absorbed from others.

  At first, only sexual desire faded, then the ability to reproduce ceased altogether. Although a felan might live for two hundred years or more, the old ones began dying off, without newborns to replace them. Experiments to create life outside the body failed. Before the race became extinct, they came up with a plan to integrate stronger species with their own. The result would be a mixed breed, but the offspring would still carry felan genes. The hope was they would be strong enough to interbreed themselves and perpetuate the race in that way.

  Athletes, dancers, and other performers from across the universe were invited to Emiron to participate in a great fair. In this way, they were assured of drawing strong, healthy members of many species. Of those who attended there were several whose physical bodies were structurally similar to the Emironians; the humans of Norona were one such group.

  Sperm samples were removed from the male visitors without their knowledge and used to fertilize felan eggs. Using a hypnotic power, the Emironians held the female guests after the males left, and their bodies were used for the gestation period. After the births, the females returned to their home planets with an artificial memory of the lost time supplied to them by the Emironians.

  Their actions would not be considered honorable by many cultures, but the plan was moderately successful. A generation of mixed breeds were produced who, although only half felan, might be able to reproduce, thus preventing total extinction of their people. Now that Falcon knew he was capable of the act required for reproduction, while still maintaining his felan inheritance, he believed the experiment had been worth it. Most of the children remained on Emiron, as had been the hope. A few, like himself, chose to relocate elsewhere in the universe. Intentionally, the only records kept regarding the biological parents pertained to the father's race and native planet.

  Falcon matured in a loosely knit circle of unemotional adults, all of whom accepted responsibility for his welfare and education. During his stay on Norona, he acquired a great appreciation for the human method of raising children in a small, loving, family unit. He should have realized then just how human he really was.

  Chapter Twelve

  Every human heart is human. —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  The familiar sounds of a wide-awake household drifted into Steve's bedroom, bringing her to consciousness. Surprisingly, she had managed to catch a few hours sleep.

  Falcon was out there. The memory propelled her from her bed. What if he did not like children? What if he liked to eat them for breakfast? Good grief! How could she think such a stupid thing? Too many movies. A triumphant "Pow! I gotcha!" assured her that, not only had Vince, Jr. not been devoured, the presence of a stranger in their living room had not deterred him from his favorite activity. She should have been up in time for introductions, especially for her mother. Steve figured she would never hear the end of this one.

  How was she supposed to behave after what he told her last night? Hopefully, better than she had at the time. As she dressed, she tried to put it into perspective.

  Falcon said he picked up on people's feelings, but not their exact thoughts. The slump of his shoulders and the crestfallen look on his face when she left him told her he had read her reaction to his confession quite accurately. An alien had touched her intimately, driven her crazy with longing. The realization had turned her stomach, and he knew it. She would swear she had hurt his feelings. Had he really never experienced human emotions until recently? Had he really never.. .She didn't even want to think about that confession.

  The only thing to do was get out there and face the music. The scene she encountered in the living room made her smile, in spite of her reservations about the central character. Vince had hauled out every truck, tank, jet, and miniature Army man in his vast collection and engaged Falcon in a major battle. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, opposite her son, Falcon had obviously been coerced into being the bad guys against Vince's much larger battalion of good guys.

  But Falcon had a couple of recruits on his side of the floor. Mr. Spock lay sprawled with his head resting on F
alcon's thigh, obviously enjoying a thorough petting. Fickle animal. On his other side, Mary Ann sat chewing on the end of her long, dark ponytail, pretending to be interested in the maneuvers, while taking frequent peaks at their visitor. Fascination shined in her big, brown eyes.

  Steve walked the rest of the way into the room and knelt down beside her son before she was noticed.

  "Mommy!" Vince squealed as he threw himself at her, knocking her onto her back.

  The next instant Mary Ann pushed him aside to get her hugs, and the both of them started wrestling on top of Steve.

  "Get off!"

  "I was here first!"

  "But I missed her more!"

  Steve separated them, sat up, and put an arm around each one. When they were both certain they had received an equal number of hugs and kisses, they dove headfirst into an account of the adventures and problems they had had in her absence.

  Mary Ann was the first to remember their new acquaintance. "Falcon said you were really tired and to let you sleep. He said we could call him Falcon, okay?"

  "Yeah. He's real cool, Mom," Vince added.

  Steve made herself look at him directly. She was not sure what she expected to see this morning, but it was just Falcon, looking like he always did. "Yes, Vince, he's real cool." She tried to force a smile, but her mother appeared before she succeeded.

  "Well! Sleepyhead finally got out here. We all introduced ourselves long ago, as you can see." Ann walked over and gave Steve a kiss on the forehead. "Welcome home, honey. Breakfast is on the table everybody." She hustled into the dining room, expecting them to follow her lead.

  Mary Ann stood up and reached for Falcon's hand. "I'll show you where you can sit."

  Not to be outdone, Vince jumped up and grabbed his other hand. "Yeah! Next to me." Mr. Spock barked once in agreement and followed on Falcon's heels.

  Before he was pulled into the dining room, Falcon twisted his head back to Steve, who was getting up off the floor. The smile he had worn with the children faded uncertainly.

  "Welcome to the nuthouse," she said with a shrug, then followed them in to breakfast.

  The table was set elaborately with her mother's best china and silver. An array of fancy platters overflowed with more food than ten people could finish at one sitting.

  "What's all this about?" she asked in shock.

  Her mother's glare and reddening cheeks informed her she was supposed to act like they ate in this style all the time.

  Enunciating each word with a clenched jaw, Ann explained, "I thought it would be nice for a change, Steve. After all, you've been away and we do have a guest."

  Steve smirked and raised one eyebrow at her. Who did she think she was fooling? So, her mother had fallen under Falcon's spell as easily as the rest of the family.

  "Your table is beautiful, Ann, and I am extremely hungry." Falcon held the back of her chair as she sat down, then moved to do the same for Steve. Too stunned to do anything else, Steve sat. Falcon caught Vince's eye, looked to Mary Ann, then back. Vince's mouth dropped open in dismay as he figured out the subtle order, but he held Mary Ann's chair for her anyway.

  Steve could not have gotten Vince to do that with anything less than a death threat. When Falcon looked back at her, he winked. Steve was. certain she would never have pancakes again without remembering this extraordinary meal.

  As soon as the children ate their fill, they asked to go play, but Ann stopped them. "Don't you want to hear about the money your mother won while she was away?

  Steve was left with little choice but to relate the tale of their good fortune and listen to their ideas on how to spend it.

  Ann interrupted the children's excited chatter. "I've already decided how we're going to spend part of it." Everyone stopped talking and looked at her expectantly. Steve's mother was not usually the most decisive person. "I spoke to your brother this morning. It's all settled." She returned her attention to her coffee cup.

  "Mother, you didn't finish what you were saying. You called John this morning? Or did he call you? Nothing's wrong, is there?"

  "Oh, my, no. But he's been asking when we were going to come for a visit, so I called and told him to expect us tonight. You don't have to worry about a thing. I already called the airlines."

  Vince and Mary Ann both squealed at once. "We're going to see Uncle John!"

  "Are we really going on an airplane?" he asked.

  "Will we get to meet the president of the United States?" she wanted to know.

  Ann smiled happily. "Yes, we're going on a jet. And I don't know if the president will have time for us this week, but I'm sure your Uncle John will do his best. Your aunt and cousins are anxious to show you all the other wonderful things Washington has to offer, though. Now, go play. You can help me pack after I clean up the dishes."

  When the children were out of earshot, Steve voiced her exasperation. "Mother! How could you do that? You know I'm in the middle of a case. I can't just take off. And to bring up something like that in front of them! You know how disappointed they'll be now if they don't get to go." Steve could not understand how her mother could be so lacking in common sense.

  "I suppose I could take them myself," Ann offered, "especially if you're still on this case. Why, you might have to go out of town again, and if we're away having fun, the children would hardly notice."

  Steve considered the suggestion. She had wanted to take them to Washington herself, but it probably would not make any difference who took them, and her mother and sister-in-law would be there.

  Ann rose and started stacking dishes. At the kitchen door, she stopped and turned to Steve. "Actually, dear, it's just as well that you're still on the case. I only made plane reservations for the three of us." She slipped into the kitchen before Steve could find her tongue.

  Steve closed her gaping mouth as she realized what her mother had done. No common sense, eh? Having discovered that her daughter had brought home an eligible man—and Steve had no doubt Ann requested his marital status before his name—she immediately put on her matchmaker hat. She purposely arranged a situation that would leave them alone in the house.

  Gawd! Mom was miles off base with this one. She should have asked Falcon's species. How could she explain why she didn't want to be alone with him? Of course, she could always refuse to let her mother take the children today and promise to take them herself right after this case was closed.

  The clink of glasses broke into her thoughts. Falcon had helped clear the table while she sat there like a dummy. She was being foolish. Nothing was going to happen just because they were alone. It was only one or two more days at most. She stood up and carried her plate of uneaten toast to the kitchen.

  Falcon was rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher as her mother was storing leftovers. Somehow, seeing them like that made her feel even more ridiculous. Mom and the children would have a ball, and she and Falcon would be perfectly fine without a proper chaperone.

  For the next several hours, Ann bustled back and forth, doing laundry and packing for their impromptu vacation. Steve made a lengthy call to Lou, telling him they were back in San Francisco and bringing him up to date without adding anything he really would rather not know. Vince and Mary Ann vied for Falcon's attention any way they could. Mr. Spock did not care which of them got it as long as he remained within reach of Falcon's hand.

  Steve kept a surreptitious eye on all of them. Falcon's patience seemed endless, as he played one game after another, ignored their petty squabbles, and never once tried to touch their temples to calm them his way. A quieter, group activity was finally agreed upon after Falcon asked how Mr. Spock got such a formal name.

  "You know, Mr. Spock. From the movie!" Vince used a tone that implied Falcon must be kidding to ask such a silly question.

  "I do not believe I have seen that one. Is it one of your favorites?" Falcon hoped that was a proper response.

  Mary Ann snorted. "He's only watched it about a zillion times!"

 
"You wanna watch it with me, huh, Falcon, huh?"

  "That would be enjoyable."

  "I guess I'll watch it, too." Mary Ann pouted, but promptly stationed herself next to Falcon.

  "Mom?" Vince's one-word question was his way of asking her to join them, combined with a request to put the movie video into the VCR.

  A fan herself, Steve had several tapes that included dozens of episodes from the television series, as well as every one of the Star Trek movies, but Steve knew the fourth movie, The Voyage Home, was Vince's favorite, and set it up for him.

  A few minutes into the film, Vince tapped Falcon's arm and shouted, "There. Him." He ran to the television and pointed. "That's Mr. Spock."

  "He looks different from the others of the crew," Falcon observed as Vince sat back down next to him.

  Vince laughed at this adult who did not know the simplest things. "Of course he does. He's a Vulcan. He can do a whole bunch of neat stuff even Captain Kirk can't do."

  "A Vulcan? You mean he is not a human."

  "Yeah, I guess that's what it means."

  Mary Ann was quick to show off her superior knowledge. "Spock's mother is human. His father is Vulcan. Sometimes it mixes him up."

  "I can imagine it would," Falcon said quietly. "Tell me, Vince. Is Mr. Spock a good guy or a bad guy?"

  "Oh, he's a good guy. They killed him off once, but he came back to life so they could make another movie."

  "I see. In other words, it is not necessary for a man to be entirely human to be a good guy." Falcon did not hear Vince's response. He had been watching Steve as she followed the exchange. Her eyes were glassy with moisture. Her mouth shaped three syllables. There was no sound, but he heard her clearly. I'm sorry.

  His nod told her he felt her sincere regret, and when he touched his fingers to his lips as if to blow her a kiss, she understood that he had forgiven her.

  Throughout the rest of the movie, supposedly for Falcon's benefit, Vince kept up a running narrative, which required Mary Ann's constant corrections. The end result was that Falcon couldn't possibly have followed the movie itself, but he convinced the children it was the best movie he'd ever seen. Steve couldn't help but wonder if it was the only movie he'd ever seen.