Seven Point Eight (39 page)

“This is all so weird,” she commented.

Sam put his feet up and patted the empty space next to him. Giving a little sigh and a soft laugh, she kicked off her shoes and wandered over, sitting next to him.

“Just relax,” Sam said, noting how nervous she suddenly appeared.

“Sorry,” Ava said, “I just…never expected to be here.”

He understood how awkward she felt. They had, after all, known each other since childhood and now had to adapt to a more adult friendship. Aware of the need to break the odd tension, he jumped up and sat down at the piano, playing a composition of his own. Ava reclined on the sofa and listened to the music, a melancholic, albeit meaningful melody that reminded one of lost opportunities, yet hope for the future.

She hadn’t heard him play for a long time. Sam had always been talented and she felt a sense of exasperation sometimes at the attitude of his father, who couldn’t seem to recognise that fact. Thankfully, her mother and family had given Sam a lot of support, keeping a piano at their house so that could learn, away from the critical disdain of his father.

After a while, Ava wandered over and sat next to him on the piano bench, as there was just enough room for two. He smiled and selected another tune, something familiar. The first few bars of John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ rang out and without prompting, Ava added the lyrics. She had a smooth voice that held a tune, but a keen ear would recognise its lack of formal vocal training. Sam didn’t care, she provided the Yoko Ono to his John Lennon.

“Better than ‘Chopsticks’, eh?” he queried with a laugh, after he’d played the final cords.

“Well, I certainly feel more relaxed now.”

He continued to play a greater range of tunes, some of them didn’t require lyrics, such as Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’, and some did. Sam performed a surprisingly tender rendition of ‘Nothing Compares To You’ by Sinead O’ Connor, which made the night memorable. Because Ava responded favourably to his voice and music, he continued to play well into the early hours of the morning. When it reached 2:00am, Sam sat back, feeling pretty exhausted. He reflected on the piano playing marathon that had just reached its conclusion.

“I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” he joked.

Ava laughed and laid her head on his shoulder, feeling equally tired. Sam made a suggestion.

“There’s a sofa over there that’s reasonably comfortable, or there’s a king size bed that’s extremely comfortable.”

She sat up, realising bed time called them both. Sam gazed at her expectantly and she lowered her eyes.

“It’s not right,” she replied.

“What’s not right?”

“You’re family, I can’t share a bed…”

“We used to all the time, remember? I used to knock on the door of your bedroom, and ask for a cuddle because of the monsters in my room.”
     

“That was different,” she argued gently, “we were kids….”

“I’m just thinking of your comfort.”

He stood up and walked to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Ava remained rooted to the piano bench, no, she couldn’t… Sam took off his shirt, threw it on the bed and walked back towards Ava. He stood in the doorway, hands lightly gripping the frame overhead.

“Which are you going to choose? I’ve attained grade 5 in Awesome Cuddles, you know.” he asked her.

He successfully diffused the awkward tension and Ava laughed, unable to resist the puppy dog eyes he expressed. She stood up and wandered over, standing before him. Ava felt disturbed that she found his body erotic, even though technically she had no blood tie to him. Sam’s lean musculature looked natural, not forced and to her embarrassment, she found herself staring. Sam knew what she was thinking.

“Is there anything I could wear to sleep in?” she asked.

Sam paused, watching her wandering eyes and enjoying the effect he had upon her. He searched his wardrobe for an old t shirt and handed it to her, resisting the temptation to peep as she changed, and slipped into a pair of jogging bottoms to preserve some modesty. Normally, he’d sleep naked but that wasn’t appropriate tonight.

They lay on top of the covers, chatting and laughing, no pressures, no pretences, and no mention of his father. They remembered the good times in their normally sad childhood, although began to reflect on all the missing pieces as the clock ticked into the early hours of the morning. Whereas most children grew up with a clear idea of where they came from, this security had been denied them all their life. The mystery status of his mother reared its ugly head again.

“I wonder if she’d be proud of me, if we ever crossed paths,” he wondered aloud.

“Of course she would, you’re kind and talented.”

Sam rolled onto his side, looking wistful.

“Do you ever imagine what your real parents would think if they could see you?”

Ava mirrored his position as she answered.

“Sometimes. I don’t know if my mother watches me from some kind of spirit world, science doesn’t really allow for that concept. My father…I guess if he never stepped forward to claim me after her death, he doesn’t really care. I’m a Kavanagh, and their support means everything to me.”

Sam propped himself up on his elbow.

“You still want to know who they are though, don’t you?”

“One day…maybe one day.”

 
He made her feel at ease as they joined together in a friendly embrace. In the back of her mind, she was afraid of the truth. Not only did she seem to possess a super-human immune system, but she knew little of her origins too. However, another truth began to emerge from her subconscious. She felt attracted to Sam and he was attracted to her.

Was that so wrong?

Was that so very wrong?

16

Satus

Eight planets in addition to Mother Earth, eight targets for exploration. The possibility of consciousness taking a photon-like form excited him, along with the potential to travel across the far reaches of space. So far, the bond between consciousness and body hadn’t been broken and Paul wondered if there was a natural ‘stretching point’ for this connection. Hopefully, God had included an inbuilt safety mechanism in his design.

Tahra breezed in, punctual and enthusiastic, although she found it difficult to meet his gaze. He sensed how awkward she probably felt about their discussion at the New Year masquerade ball, and contemplated addressing the issue. However, he realised that might simply increase her level of embarrassment so he chose to discuss her abilities.

“Ready for some space exploration?”

“It’s what I’ve been waiting for. I’ve been perfecting my lunar orbit,” she declared.

Paul let loose a chuckle.

“The Space Race is so behind the times,” he commented.
           

“Where are we going today?”

“Well,” Paul began, tentatively, “I thought we’d leave the safety of the Earth and start to push onward.”

“I wondered when we’d get past the warm up.”

She placed her bag down and flopped into the hot seat, relieved her declaration of love could crawl back under the rock where it temporarily belonged. Paul idly watched her with admiration, and she met his gaze briefly.

He produced an illustration, which indicated the next assignment. Tahra looked at a picture of the solar system, with an arrow pointing to the fourth planet, a location map using a backdrop of constellations, and some artists’ representations of the planet he wished her to remote view.

“Mars, the red planet, regarded as the God of War in mythology and it’s also our neighbour in space. It featured as the home planet of the invaders in ‘War of the Worlds’…you know, ‘the chances of anything coming from Mars…” he began to sing. When she didn’t recognise the tune, he continued.
 
“Anyway, as of 1965, no probe has landed on Mars, although Mariner 4 is due to fly past it in the summer of 1965. I assume you’ve never been to Mars in your spare time,” he mused.

“This will be much harder though,” she pointed out, “as I only have drawings to work from.” Realising it sounded negative, she added, “Not that I shirk from a challenge.”

Getting comfortable in the chair, she closed her eyes and held an image of Mars in her mind’s eye. It wasn’t easy focusing on extra-terrestrial targets but she prompted herself.

You can do this. What does a little bit of outer space matter in the grand scheme of things?

With a metaphorical kick up her own backside, she felt the usual psychological surge, soon finding herself poised above their home planet. A lucid stillness enveloped her consciousness with its cool fingers of serenity, yet she allowed a nagging doubt to claw scratch away at the delicate surface of her peace bubble.

Tahra opened her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, disappointed.

“I’m used to working from maps, or objects that are obvious, easy to find. I can reach the moon because I can see it in the sky and know where it is, but Mars is so far away.”

He rubbed his chin and considered her words.

“If anyone can achieve this, you can. Remember, consciousness isn’t limited like the physical body. That’s why we’re using remote viewing to explore the solar system. I’m not sure how you reach a destination, but try to feel it, try to touch the red planet, let its gravity reel you in, if that makes any sense.”

Putting negative talk to the back of her mind was easier said than done, but she didn’t want to disappoint Paul, even though it was impossible to ignore the distance and the enormous degree of separation from her body.

Okay, red planet…gravity…reel me in…

 
Closing her eyes, she infused her will with added determination. A small, reddish-orange ball of light grew larger as she pushed towards it, and she sensed her target lay within her grasp. The effort to reach it seemed greater than her previous journeys and as she drew close, she felt a sensation of winding down, like a clockwork toy. Maybe with regular practice she could overcome this, but how long would that take? It could take years. With one last push, that reddish-orange globe lay beneath her.

I’m even further from home.

It actually looks quite dirty in comparison to the Earth.

No human eye has witnessed this before though.

Mars lacked the vivid blues, greens, oranges, and white hues of Earth. It truly felt alien. While she felt at peace in the orbit of Earth, Mars had a different ‘aura’, or vibration. Tahra moved into the atmosphere, feeling like a spaceship ready to drop its landing gear. Beneath her, she viewed a barren desert and allowed the planet’s natural magnetism to draw her in for a closer look. She found the surface to be a desolate place with rusty red rocks strewn around the lifeless landscape. Looking up at the sky, she saw a point of light like a large star, attempting to offer its meagre illumination to the planet’s surface.

That must be the sun.

I’m so far away from the father, the giver of light and life.

It really does feel like no place on Earth.

How can a place feel so lifeless?

I’m so alone, lonelier than ever.

Out here, you can only face yourself.

Are we ready to do that?

Tahra returned to orbit and tried to find the Earth, but when she realised she couldn’t find it, she felt a growing sense of panic. Becoming stranded at the level of consciousness became a potential reality. There was only one way to return. Tahra opened her eyes and endured the unpleasant jolt back into her body. It felt like falling out of bed and hitting the floor with a thud.