Laura Jo Phillips (51 page)

“By the time she was removed from the healing tank a few months after the attack, she was six months pregnant, and learned for the first time that Harlan had not survived.  It was a very difficult time for her, and the doctors feared she would lose the babies. 

“She refused to return to her apartment for any reason.  She didn’t want anything from it, not even her clothing.  She stayed with me for several weeks while she remodeled the home she and her sister had grown up in.  Just over a month ago she moved into it, and began working again.  Her first assignment was to interview the women who had come back from Jasan, and she immediately discovered that all of them had their minds altered.  Then she went to your apartment, with the Bearens, and the rest you know.”

“What about those who attacked the party?” Jackson asked.

The Director’s mouth stretched into the most predatory smile Hope had ever seen.  “It was a surprise attack, and our Agents were caught off guard,” he said.  “But nevertheless, in spite of the heavy casualties, we won that battle.”

“And Loggia?” Hope asked quietly. 

“He was killed by one of his fellow inmates,” the Director said blandly.  “Most unfortunate.”

Hope nodded.  The man was dead.  She neither wanted, nor needed further information.

“Thank you, Director,” she said.  “I appreciate you telling me this.”  She smiled.  “Harlan did what Harlan believed to be right, and he died doing what he believed to be right.  I would not wish otherwise for him.”

“The same is true of Ellicia,” the Director said.  “I would give anything to have her back, to have both of them back.  But at the same time, I will not take away from her by denying the necessity of what she was doing, or why she was doing it.”

“Did you ever discover why Princess Lariah’s description was sent to Stephan Loggia rather than Ellicia’s?” Jackson asked.  “I find that troubling.”

The Director shook his head.  “No, not yet,” he replied.  “Nor have we been able to determine who it was that was trying to kidnap Ellicia rather than kill her.  There were two clear attempts to abduct her, and both times it was clear that they could have killed her, but didn’t.”

“The Brethren are very big on kidnapping,” Hope pointed out.  “Is there a chance they were trying to get her?”

“Perhaps, but why would they?” the Director asked.

“We know for a fact that Lariah is an Arima,” Jackson said.  “Perhaps it was believed that Ellicia was a
berezi
.”

The Director frowned.  “When I return to the Directorate I will look into that further,” he said.  “Right now though, if you don’t mind, Hope, would you take a stab at the Xanti home world?”

“Gladly,” Hope replied. She was happy to know the whole truth surrounding Harlan’s death, but she was also relieved to have something to take her mind off of it now.

Jackson went to the far side of the room where a number of objects were spread out on a large table.  He selected something and brought it back to where Hope now stood at the counter, and set it down.

“That, we believe, is the main processing unit,” he said.  “You may pick it up if you wish.”

Hope hesitated.  From everything she had ever heard or read, the Xanti were evil.  She didn’t really want to touch evil, but that’s what had to be done.  She could not read the object without touching it.

She picked up the object, a small black square with rounded corners, placed it in the palm of her hand, and closed her eyes.  A few moments later her eyes flew open and she dropped the object to the table, stepped back and began scrubbing her hands on her jeans.

““Ugh,” she said, shuddering with revulsion.  “That’s just...gross.”

“What?” Jackson asked.

“Spiders built this thing.  Did you know that the Xanti are spiders?”

“Yes, we know,” Jackson replied.  “I’m sorry, we didn’t think to warn you of that.”

“That’s all right,” Hope said.  “I would have been even more nervous about trying it if I’d known.  And I would have still been grossed out by it.”

“Do you know where their home world is?” the Director asked.

“Yes, in a way,” Hope replied.  They all stared at her.

“I’m an artist, not a scientist.  I don’t have a star map in my head,” she explained.  “But if you can show me one, and mark our current location on it for me, I can point to it.”

“Good enough,” the Director said.  “I will make arrangements with the Commander for us to use the base GalactoGraph tomorrow afternoon, if that is acceptable to you?  I would like to do it sooner, but I’m afraid I have another meeting to attend in about an hour, and a full morning tomorrow as well.”

“That’s fine with me,” Hope replied.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, Hope,” the Director cautioned.  “It could be very dangerous knowledge.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” Hope promised. 

Chapter
53

Jasan, Berria Outskirts, Council Complex

Mara Winicke gazed on the remains of what had once been her baby brother.  Not that he looked anything remotely like the baby he had once been.  By the time he was twelve years old, when Mara had been sent to Jasan, he’d looked perhaps half human.  Mara had only seen this version of William a handful of times on a vid screen.  Even Stalnek had not looked half as alien as William had become.

“This is your brother, is it not?” Hamat asked her.  “William?”

Mara swallowed hard and nodded.  She couldn’t really decide how she felt about the sight of the beast encased in glass before her.  On the one hand, she knew that it was William, and she had once cared for the little boy he had been.  On the other hand, this looked nothing like that little boy.  She finally decided that she didn’t really feel any connection to the remains.  It was simply the morbid sight of its head lying separate from its body that she found disturbing.

“Yes, that’s William,” she said, forcing herself to speak normally. 

“And William is Brethren?” Hamat asked.

“Yes,” Mara replied.  She’d seen enough so she turned away from the glass case and found herself staring at what appeared to be a very beautiful man.  A very beautiful, immobile man.  The figure was standing, but it was not moving.  It wasn’t even breathing as far as she could tell. 

“What is that?” she asked curiously.

“That is a Xanti,” Hamat replied.  “You do not recognize it?”

“No, why should I?” Mara asked.  “And why do you call him an
it
?”

Hamat stepped in front of the tall, motionless man for a moment, then stepped back.  Mara was shocked to find herself staring into the thing’s hollow chest.  She moved forward and raised herself up on her toes so that she could get a better look inside.  There were buttons and switches and levers all over, along with some incomprehensible writing on the back.

“Strange,” Mara said, stepping back from the thing.  She wondered what exactly went inside the thing and controlled it.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t very big. 

“If you are finished, our time is up,”

As Hamat led Mara from the viewing room, retracing their steps back out of the council building, she wondered if she had made a mistake in identifying William. 

Well, she thought.  It was too late to worry about it now.  Besides, what could happen?  The only being she was truly afraid of was Stalnek, and he was very far away.  Soon, she was going to have a new identity, and a new world to live on.  He would never find her.  No, there was no reason to worry, she decided. 

Chapter
54

Earth, Phoenix II

Hope left the lab, wanting a little time to herself to process everything that the Director had told her about Harlan.  So much had happened in such a short space of time that she was still having a difficult time sorting through it all.  She realized that she was walking hunched over again, as though in pain, and reminded herself to stand up straight.  As she lifted her chin, she spotted something on the grass beside the narrow road.  It was difficult to see as the sun was beginning to set, but she got a bad feeling in her stomach as she approached the object.  Even when she was standing right above it she was uncertain what it was, so she knelt down and reached out with one hand to touch it.

***

“How is Hope doing, really?” the Director asked after Hope left. 

“It’s difficult to say,” Jackson replied.  “As far as we can tell, she has not yet allowed herself to grieve for Harlan.  She seems determined to control her feelings by holding them inside of herself.”

“That’s not good,” the Director said.  “I understand the need to be strong in the face of adversity, but it’s time for her to allow herself to feel.”

“I think there is too much for her to feel,” Rob said quietly.  “Grief, fear, anger, worry, horror, even joy for the boys.  It’s overwhelming, so she keeps avoiding it.”

The Director nodded and opened his mouth to speak when he noticed that all three of the Bearens had suddenly gone still, their eyes taking on an eerie glow.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Excuse us,” Jackson said after a long moment.  “Hope is in distress, and we must go to her.”

“All right,” the Director said, but the Bearens were gone before the words were fully out of his mouth.  He wondered for a moment if he should alert the sentries of a problem, and decided not to.  Jackson had said only that Hope was in distress, and they were certainly more than capable of handling anything that might come their way.  If they needed help, they would let him know. 

***

Jackson raced from the building with Clark and Rob right behind him, Hope’s intense emotional pain guiding him straight to her.  Using their bearenca’s speed along with Air magic, it took them only a few seconds to reach her.  She was sitting on the side of the road with something in her lap, her head bowed over it, her shoulders shaking with deep, uncontrollable sobs. 

Jackson was relieved that she was not any danger, but the sound of her crying nearly broke his heart.  They knelt down on the grass with her, forming a small, close circle, and Jackson reached out to touch the soft feathers of the bird she held in her lap.  The animal was dead, hit by a car in the fading light.  He had never seen a bird that resembled the one in Hope’s lap aside from the tattoo on her wrist.  It was an owl, he was certain. 

“Excuse me, Sir, is there anything we can do to help?”

Jackson looked up to see the familiar faces of the MPs that guarded the front door of the lab.   

“Yes, there is,” Jackson said.  He gently removed the owl from Hope’s lap and handed it to the MP.  “If you wouldn’t mind taking care of this for us, we would appreciate it.”

“No problem, Sir,” the young man said.  He looked at Hope.  “Don’t worry, Ma’am, we’ll take care of this animal properly.”

Jackson didn’t think Hope heard, but he appreciated the man’s kindness. As soon as the MPs left, Jackson rose to his feet, then picked Hope up off the ground.  She buried her face in his shoulder, still sobbing as he began walking toward their bungalow. 

This was the first time Jackson had held their Arima in his arms, but it was impossible to think of that when the sound of her weeping and the feel of her tears soaking his shirt was ripping his heart from his chest.  Clark and Rob crowded close, their worry as deep and heartfelt as Jackson’s. 

When they finally reached their bungalow Clark hurried ahead to open the door, and Jackson carried Hope into the house and sat down on the couch with her.  Clark sat next to Jackson, near Hope’s head, and began stroking her hair gently in an effort to soothe her.  Rob went into the kitchen for a glass of water and brought it back, along with a box of tissues.  He left again, and returned with a warm washcloth which he set aside with the tissues.  Then, he sat down on the floor in front of Jackson and Hope, his own eyes stinging as Hope’s sorrow flooded him. 

They could all feel Hope’s emotions, and they knew that the grief had finally hit her.  From what she had told them, and from the tattoo on her wrist, they knew that the owl was an important symbol to her.  Stumbling across the dead bird had forced all of her buried feelings from the past few days to boil up in a devastating wave.  

As much as they hated watching her cry, they knew that this was what she needed.  If she did not express her grief and her pain, it would slowly poison her mind and body. 

When her sobs began to ease, Rob quietly handed her several tissues.  After she used them, he took them from her, and gave her the warm cloth.  She wiped her eyes and face with it and took a long, shaky breath.

“Sorry about that,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Rob offered her the glass of water and she took it gratefully.

“Why do you say you are sorry?” Jackson asked her when she was finished drinking.  Rob took the glass and put it on the low table behind him as Jackson gently urged Hope to lay her head back on his shoulder.

“Sorry for making a fool of myself, and for blubbering like a baby,” she said.

“It is past time for you to allow yourself to grieve,
Niha
,” Jackson said, reaching up to catch a fresh tear with his finger.  “You have lost one who meant much to you.  It is not only normal to grieve, it is necessary.  If you do not release your tears, they will poison your soul.”