by C. S. Wilde
Sounds easier than it might be, but I have to try.
I start from my head and then to my toes, up… down… up… My muscles relax, and soon I lose my balance, but only for a moment, never missing the slow rhythm, up… down… up… And then I’m floating in the darkness.
Chuck and Werhn-za’har argue about something, I can’t distinguish what. After a moment, their voices are gone.
A sudden rush of lights bursts beneath me, an endless ocean of speeding orange and yellow lightning. Some of them flash with my mom and dad, others with me as a teenager listening to rock bands in my room, others carry Miriam’s voice. Some of them, the bright sparkly ones, are filled with soothing, warm sensations, while others, the ones of faded orange, ooze ice-cold despair and mellow loneliness.
These are my thoughts, memories, emotions, all dashing underneath.
“Incredible,” I mumble.
I focus on Miriam, on the part of her that Werhn-za’har says I have, the part of me that I still don’t consider mine because it’s so brand new.
A streak of lightning stands out from the mob of shining colors, beaming like a tiny sun. In a finger snap it wraps around my body—mind?—before pulling me at high speed, flinging me through the glittering darkness toward a beacon of golden light that rises so high I can’t see its end.
The bolt slows down and releases me. I float toward the cylinder much like an astronaut would float in space. I’m inches from the beacon now, and soon I’m touching the glimmering surface. It’s warm, soothing, and sparks lift upon my touch like fireflies.
“Miriam, are you there?”
Nothing.
I focus harder. “Mir, come back to me.”
Her long smile flashes in my mind, the warmth of her skin against mine.
Her voice echoes through the cylinder. “Always.”
31
-James-
I turn around and step away from the triangle formed by Chuck, Zed and Sol’ut-eh.
Miriam is right in front of me. I can’t see her, but I can feel the warmth of her skin, and listen to her slow breathing.
The air in front of me becomes thicker, almost as if it were turning into molten glass. It concentrates into legs, chest, arms, and finally, a head. Slowly her features come to life: the pink of her skin, the brown of her hair, and when it’s her green eyes and that sweet, soft smile, I can’t take it any longer. I rush forward and wrap my arms around Miriam, pressing her against me. My body trembles as I hold in a sob.
She hugs me back, her fingers digging into my shirt. When I inhale the sweet scent at the curve of her neck, I whisper, “You’re here.”
She caresses the back of my head, my curls tangling around her fingers. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”
“You’re here now.” I cup her cheeks and kiss her softly, slowly. How I missed the taste of my wife, her warm flesh against mine, soothing like a lullaby that whispers, I’m yours.
Tears trickle on my fingers. She’s crying? I lean back, my attention full on that beautifully sad complexion, but Miriam immediately pulls me closer, wrapping both arms around my waist.
“I missed you so much,” her voice quivers. “The power was larger than me, stronger, and I couldn’t stop.”
“Mir…”
“No, listen.” Regret glistens in the corners of those striking emeralds. “I had to go. I didn’t want to leave you, but—”
I put my finger over her mouth, silencing her. “You’re back with me. That’s all that matters.”
Miriam holds a whimper, then wipes her tears. She leans closer and kisses me like this is our first time. I can’t stop tugging at those tantalizing lips, I missed her so much. My breathing becomes ragged as our kisses grow increasingly hungry.
Miriam nudges my nose with hers. “I have so much to tell you. The stars I’ve seen, the nebulas and planets...” Her expression darkens once she spots something behind me.
She’s glaring at Zed, standing there with his sleek, blond hair trapped in a ponytail. His white shirt has lost a few buttons, revealing a black lacy bra that highlights his “assets.”
Miriam squints at him and steps toward Zed as if she’s about to disintegrate him—which is something she could actually do. I think.
“Who are you?” she asks.
“Mir, this is—”
“I asked the female, not you, Mr. Bauman,” she snaps without turning back to me, the muscles on her back clenched tight.
Is Miriam being jealous? I’ve never seen her this way. A flash of amusement brushes through my chest, a primeval sense of pride because she’s marking her territory and that’s kind of cute. And because I’m so baffled at my always so rational girl behaving so irrationally, I forget to explain who Zed is.
“G-greetings, Miri’et-eh,” Zed stumbles back. “I’m—”
“Why are you wearing a business skirt and makeup? An alien planet is hardly the place to look beautiful,” Miriam says, analyzing Zed from the top of his head to his feet. “Is it because you wish to look attractive to James?”
Zed gasps and shakes his head frantically. “By the dimensions, no! It’s a very long story...”
Zed’s voice is like honey and when he blushes and looks down, Miriam says, “You look like one of those Disney princesses human girls love so much.” Not a compliment, a hint of disgust hidden in her words. She turns to me with a killer stare. “Care to explain, husband?”
The reaction that had been frozen by shock breaks free and I burst out laughing. “Jesus, Mir.” My guffaws border on hysteria now, and I try to compose myself, but a few chuckles escape here and there. “That’s Zed. He’s one of you.”
“Yes, I’m a male, one hundred percent male,” Zed blurts, emphasizing the last word.
By the twitching of Zed’s upper eyelid and the fidgeting of his fingers, he’s scared of Miriam. If I were in his shoes, I’d be too.
“Jealousy does not suit you, dear,” Chuck says as he walks to Miriam. He wraps her in a strong fatherly hug. “Welcome back.”
Miriam’s expression softens and she hugs Chuck back, then pats his head. “It’s good to be back, esteemed mentor.” She winks at him before turning her attention back to Zed. She squints and says, “It remains to be seen if our situation will remain… pleasant.”
Did she not get the part where Zed’s a guy and I’m happily married? Even if he were a woman, he wouldn’t be Miriam. No woman in the universe ever would. Maybe something during all those changes altered the chemical reactions in her brain. We’ll need to look into this once we’re back home.
Zed clears his throat. “I feel a proper introduction is in order. My name’s actually Zed’phir-lack, but your husband prefers Zed.”
I roll my eyes in an easy, lazy manner. “Dude, Zed’s so much better than Zed’phir-lack.”
Zed crosses his arms. “On what planet?”
I shrug. “All of them?”
Miriam giggles at that, and the tension in the air softens. “Why are you in a female body, Zed’phir-lack?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but I cut him off before he starts giving Miriam his full dissertation, which he did to me when we were on our way to the Orion Nebula. It was not entertaining. “He’s researching chick stuff. Or at least he was until he became Chuck’s disciple.”
“I still need to continue with my official studies,” Zed adds with an excited grin. “If I drop them, questions might arise.”
Miriam peers at Zed through slit eyes. “Well, if you truly wished to research human females, you should’ve picked a less attention-grabbing vessel.” She turns to Chuck. “You took another disciple? I had assumed I was your last.”
Chuck shrugs. “The child has potential, and he has proved himself. Plus, your mate put in a good word.”
Her jealousy simmers behind her eyes, now aimed at Chuck and Zed. It’s strange seeing Miriam so… different. She’s never been the overly emotional type.
Chuck must’ve sensed something wrong too, because he frowns at
her. “Do you feel well, dear?”
“Fantastic, in fact.” Miriam glances at Sol’ut-eh, who’s watching Werhn-za’har at the back of the cave. She looks like she’s about to fall upon him with all her wrath. “Sol’ut-eh, are you all right?”
She doesn’t turn back to Miriam, she simply nods.
“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to end him again, sister,” Chuck says.
“Don’t pretend you weren’t watching me,” she replies. “I’ve figured he deserves worse than death. Besides, we still need answers. After we get them, though, I might keep him in our prison for a while,” she says, always careful not to speak aloud. Having my brain melt like the face of major Arnold Toht from Raiders of the Lost Ark would suck. “Let the other rebels show him what Famda Seven meant to them.” Her eyes sparkle at that.
Perhaps that’s a fitting punishment for what Werhn-za’har did to her. For what he did to Miriam.
Sitting on his bench, Werhn-za’har barely glances at Sol’ut-eh, his chin held high, almost as if he knows that he’ll never go into the rebel’s prison. Like he knows something we don’t.
This blatant arrogance is standard Werhn-za’har, so I wave it off. Still, there’s something unnerving about how his attention remains locked on Miriam.
As for me, I just need to hold my wife again. My arms wrap over her shoulders, bringing her close to me. I bow down for a kiss, brushing my lips with hers. “It’s almost over, baby.”
A laugh rumbles within Werhn-za’har’s chest. “Oh, James Bauman. It’s far from over.”
32
-Miriam-
The particles of every creature in this universe shift, bend, and move at unseen levels, shaping our reality. We simply don’t notice because the particles are so fast, so minuscule, but they’re there, here, everywhere. We’re made of the same fabric as stars, planets, meteors. The particles that compose black holes and supernovas also spin inside everyone in this cave, everywhere in the universe. Space dust rotating, exerting forces onto itself. That’s what reality is: an aggregation of particles and forces, urging me to explore them.
Even after finding my way back to how I used to be, the universe keeps that persistent tug in the back of my mind. But I’ve secured my anchor: James. Now that we have this strange connection, it’s easier to remain who I was, who I am. But I should not push my abilities again. My link to James could always snap, and then I’d be truly gone.
I must’ve created this connection between us, only I can’t remember. I’ve lost certain memories, perhaps to make space for all the wondrous things I saw. Stars, unfathomable life forms, glowing event horizons…
I can’t remember what I told James before leaving him in the village. It was important, but what was it? Words, thoughts, don’t cling well to a mind that was scattered across the cosmos. James screamed in pain, his cries still echo in my memories, but that can’t be correct. I’d never harm him.
I remember seeing him again, he was sleeping and I startled him, but what we said, what we thought… just a blank canvas.
The golden, swirling feeling in my gut, that flicker of starlight, asks me to play again, to swim across Saturn’s rings, touch the surface of stars, and watch the birth of life on a remote planet. The universe within me and me within the universe.
I smile at that utterly joyful feeling, but focus on my link to James, ground my feet. I cannot lose myself again, no matter how much I want to.
The modified Do’yanian—Werhn-za’har’s new shell—grins at me. “Still slightly confused, are you not, Miri’et-eh?”
Werhn-za’har altered my body, played with it without my consent. He violated me, and he doesn’t think he was wrong. He never does.
A part of me hates him for that, but another part, the one who witnessed twin black holes spinning at high speed, waltzing with one another with the gentleness of an old couple in love, can only feel a certain gratitude.
“I am fine,” I say, my tone oozing with contempt. “Not thanks to you, I suppose.”
“It’s precisely thanks to me.” Werhn-za’har chuckles and leans over his knees, his spine arched. “I wish you could show me all the wondrous things—”
“You do not deserve that gift,” I say.
He glares at me with a mix of surprise and fury. “So quick to judge.” He clears his wattle. “The information I hold cannot leave this cave. If our kind realizes what I did… ” His attention turns to Sol’ut-eh, but her face is a mask of ice and stone. He goes forth anyway. “The council was becoming suspicious of my experiments. I had to keep you safe, Miri’et-eh.”
A snort escapes my lips. Keep me safe, as if he’s sacrificing himself for my benefit. Who is he trying to fool? I know what he’s capable of, Sol’ut-eh showed it to me. Werhn-za’har does not act on benevolence, only interest.
“Why did you change my body?” I ask, moving closer to him and past Chuck and Sol’ut-eh. My particles speak to the particles of rock, and Werhn-za’har’s stone bench shakes.
The right question would be how we can stop what’s happening to me, especially if, as he told James, “it’s far from over.” But after experiencing such connectivity with everything in the universe, I’m not sure I want to be my old self again. So I settle with a different question. “Why did you turn me into an interdimensional being?”
Call it theatricality, but I increase the shaking of the bench until pebbles start raining on the ground. I want him terrified.
Werhn-za’har doesn’t flinch or stumble, he simply looks at the floor, perfectly balanced upon jerking rock. His grin shapes a blade. “Don’t be foolish. You’re not turning into an interdimensional being, Miri’et-eh.”
A quick laugh bursts from my lips. He clearly hasn’t seen what I’m capable of.
James walks to my side and takes my hand. Hope burns in his chest like the flares of a second sun, his particles, they tell me everything. “You mean she’s not going to disappear into the universe again?”
Werhn-za’har chuckles. “Of course she will, especially if she decides to abuse her newfound powers and ignore the link between the both of you, the one thing that grounds her. However, that hardly makes her an interdimensional being, does it? She hasn’t travelled to another dimension, she simply explored ours.” The swirl of his arms renders all that’s happened to me as boring nonsense. “She can’t break the fabric of reality and cross into another dimension, she simply tethers on the edge.” This with that condescending arrogance typical of him, the one that says we’re all imbeciles.
Pressure waves filled with fury bang against my skin. I turn to the source, who stands by my side. James’ nostrils are flared, his breathing ragged. He wants to hurt Werhn-za’har, but the force swirling inside him could do much, much worse. A ravenous telekinetic power unlike any I’ve ever seen.
“I did this to you,” I mumble.
I remember now, the web of patterns I inserted into James’ patterns, the raw, wild power I wove into him. James isn’t human anymore, because of me. How he even controls the colossal forces that live within him is baffling.
James turns to me, his lips pressed tight. “It’s fine. You didn’t mean to.”
Did I?
Whatever I turned my mate into, it freezes me where I stand. He could’ve died because of me, and I wouldn’t have known, wouldn’t have cared. This is why we have to stop my transformations, why I need to ignore the universe’s call.
With a hoarse throat that feels coated in barbed wire, I say, “I’ll go back to normal, and James too, because you will tell us how to achieve that.”
Werhn-za’har ignores my threat. His attention lies fully on Chuck, who steps forward and halts on my left.
“I wanted to believe that you saved us back at the moon base because you cared,” Chuck says through gritted teeth. “I knew better, of course, but hope is an irrational thing, is it not, esteemed mentor?”
Werhn-za’har frowns at Chuck as if he’s just said that the sky on Whisa’thar is purple. Then his rept
ilian eyes darken. “You’ve always been so weak.”
Something breaks inside my former mentor. He slams all of his telekinetic power onto Werhn-za’har’s face, an invisible punch that would’ve smashed his skull against the cave’s wall. But Werhn-za’har halts the attack at the last minute by pressing a telekinetic shield before himself. Chuck urges his power forward and Werhn-za’har grinds his teeth, the hood of his gray mantle falling back.
“Tell us how we can help my disciple!” Chuck barks. “Now!”
“I do not see the issue,” Werhn-za’har grunts, his draconian face wrinkled in concentration.
Angry tears glint in my mentor’s eyes. “Of course you don’t! You never cared about anything in your pitiful life!”
Werhn-za’har glares at him, a certain pain in the way he does it. Then he waves his hand in the air and an invisible force pushes Chuck back.
Werhn-za’har straightens his stance, but avoids looking at his former student. “They’ll stop in nine months, probably sooner, I suppose.” He nods at James. “Though your magnificent power is forever. Miriam can’t take it back, otherwise she might get lost again.”
Nine months?
By all the stars in the universe, this carefree light in my stomach, a little star inside me. I put a hand over my belly and the energy says hello, filling my fingers with pure, giddy joy.
Oh, no, no, no. It can’t be.
Chuck’s jaw drops. “What did you do, Werhn-za’har?” He runs to his backpack and pulls out a diagnostic tool. He then sets different codes on the tool, and I know exactly what kind of test he’ll run. Soon enough, he presses the tool into my arm.
I barely feel the sting. Shock has rendered me numb.
The tool beeps twice and Chuck’s eyes widen at the result that’s already known to me.
Now I understand why I was jealous of Zed, and why my emotions are wilder than before.
Hormones.
33
-Miriam-
James presses my hand, his eyes wide. “Mir,” he mutters. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
