The Light-Field (16 page)

‘I'm really glad you were thinking of me.' She stepped aside to allow them in. ‘I haven't known what to do with myself.' The girls entered and she closed the door behind them. ‘What is the news?' Aurora asked for the envelope and Rebi handed it over. From the stony serious looks on the girls' faces, Rory feared the worst. She sat on the lounge, broke the seal on the president's communication and read.

Aurora gasped on her relief and shock, then burst into tears as advised.

‘You already knew he couldn't have survived.' Rebi sympathised with Aurora's loss.

‘What does the president say?' Rada sniffled back her tears.

Aurora held up a finger to beg their patience and then continued to read.

The warning sent a pang of shock through her being.

Aurora's relief turned to grief and tears flooded her eyes anew, as she paused to process the reality that he may as well have died; the secret services were going to make sure he was as good as dead to her.

Aurora was openly weeping now.

‘Excuse me.' Aurora's emotional state gave her the perfect excuse to flee the lounge area via the stairs that led up to the bedroom and bathroom; she did not look back to catch the twins' reaction.

Once inside the bathroom, she looked about for a means to burn the letter as instructed, but there was nothing in the wet room that would serve her purpose. ‘Ah well.' She opened the toilet seat lid and ripped the letter into confetti before flushing it into the great unknown.

In the lounge the twins were speaking in hushed tones between themselves, and stopped the exchange when they noted Aurora had returned.

‘I'm so sorry, but I have to go out,' Aurora said. ‘I have a gig to play,' she added, in case they got the impression she was running off somewhere due to the missive she'd just read.

‘Can we come?' Rada suggested.

‘For moral support,' Rebi added, seeming genuinely concerned for her.

Still, after Anselm's warning Aurora wasn't taking any chances. ‘To be honest, I associate the two of you with Starman and seeing you just brings the whole tragic incident flooding back.' Aurora didn't have to pretend to be upset; her tears were flowing freely. ‘So I don't think I should see you girls for a while, at least until I'm not feeling so raw about it … I hope you understand.'

The twins seemed kind of stunned by her stance, but not wounded.

‘Well, if you're sure you'll be okay.' Rebi frowned with concern as she asked.

Aurora simply nodded and waited for them to head for the door.

‘Call us if you need anything,' Rada insisted as she followed her sister to the door.

‘Actually there is something you can do for me,' Aurora requested before opening the door to let them out. ‘Please get me an appointment to see Anselm.'

‘Private or business meeting?' Rada queried.

‘Business,' Aurora advised. ‘I want to apply for a job.' The thought made her smile on the inside. If she was ever going to be with Zeven again, she had to infiltrate the elite and dangerous circles in which he moved.

 

With his face shrouded by the hood of his jacket, Zeven stood amid a packed bar full of people, watching Aurora perform. She was not as vivacious and full of good cheer as she had been at her last gig, yet she was still clearly giving her all to get the job done, and no one in the room would have suspected that anything extraordinary had happened to her in the last few days.

‘Okay, you've seen her, now let's go,' Mythric said in a whispered shout in his ear.

‘She needs to see me,' Zeven hissed back. ‘That was the point of this exercise.'

‘She'll never see you in this!' Mythric referred to the throng of raging people around them.

‘You're wrong,' Zeven replied. If Aurora could see him in the middle of a vast desert, surely she could pick up on him when he was this close. ‘Just give her a second.' He pushed forward through the crowd a way, until he had Aurora in clear sight of him, and then he focused all his will on getting her to look his way. Taren had always claimed that one didn't need superpowers to influence the great light field of quanta that was the fabric of existence — willpower was all that was required.

 

For most of the set Aurora had managed to keep her surging emotions in check. She was even starting to relax and enjoy playing with her band, when she was struck by a clear vision of watching herself perform — like she had flown right out of her body and into the audience to observe the show.

Starman!
The thought set her trying to figure out where in the room he was watching her from, and when she felt she knew where to look, she shook off the dream.

As her eyes scanned the audience, their faces reflected by the light show going on and off behind her, she spotted the face she was looking for, whereupon her heart went flying into her throat and her eyes welled with tears. She wanted to drop the guitar and run to him, but she was not allowed to make contact, and she knew he was taking a great risk in attempting to see her at all! There was so much she wanted to say to him and in the blink of an eye he could be gone again for only the secret service knew how long. The vision she'd just had made her giddy and Aurora, having abandoned the song they were playing, was granted a moment of clarity.

‘What the —?' Zanthie asked on behalf of everyone, as Aurora grabbed the microphone stand to steady herself and explain.

‘Apologies to all you good people, but I lost a dear friend in the past few days,' she began, and the discontented crowd quietened to hear her speak. ‘He was the stuff that legends are made of, and his passing is a deep personal loss to me.' She breathed deep, her eyes venturing to see if he was still present. He had not moved; most of his face was shrouded in shadow but his forced smile told her that he felt as restrained and betrayed in this moment as she did. ‘I wrote a song for my friend today, which I'd like to play for you now … I call it, Starman.'

With a quiet round of applause and whistles of encouragement, the rest of the band backed up and Aurora and her guitar took the spotlight.

‘That's it,' Mythric grabbed Zeven's shoulder. ‘She's serenading you, we're out of here.'

Zeven grabbed hold of his father's hand. ‘Take me now and I will
never
forgive you.' He looked back to his girl on stage, doing such a fine job of not looking his way too often. She had tears streaming down her face as she sang, yet her voice was sweet and melodious, and plucked at his heartstrings as he listened carefully to her words for hidden messages.

The message that he was getting was that she was letting him go! Obviously she'd been briefed about that fact that he did not exist anymore and was dead to everyone — even Aurora.

‘All your pain is gone forever,' Aurora repeated more poignantly, ‘and the stars … are now your home.' She strummed one final note, whereupon the crowd applauded, and as the roar went up Aurora added. ‘Hope to join you out there in space sometime, my friend …' Her eyes turned his way briefly and he held up five fingers to concur.

Aurora looked away, cracked a smile, drew a deep breath and launched into a manic song entitled, ‘You're on!'.

‘Can we go now?' Mythric stressed, feeling they had already been there way too long for comfort.

Although Zeven could not drag his eyes from Aurora, wanting to drink in every detail to remember at a later date, he nodded, grateful to have hope that they would meet again in the future. ‘I guess I'm good to go.'

The day had been exhilarating and exhausting — surveying the new offices and build site for the AMIE project. The Gervaise brothers were like kids in a candy store as they watched their new office furniture being delivered and arranged in what would be the centre of their operations for the next five years.

Taren, however, was inwardly distracted. It had been four days since she had last seen Starman, and three days since he would have had his fatal accident. Coincidently, the inner connection she felt to him through their Juju seemed to have suffered in some way at around the time of his staged death. She no longer felt their connection
at all
, and she was struggling to contain her rising panic. Had Zeven died? Or had her father come up with some new high-tech way of shielding Zeven — even from her! She had put in several requests for a transfer to her father (their code for a personal meeting) since the event, all of which her father had denied. This only added to her inner frustration and worry, which she could not expose in present company.

All the removalists departed as the end of the work day neared, leaving the yet to be occupied offices in a heavenly silence. Lucian and Swithin were still downstairs in the huge water-based holding bay, envisioning the commencement of construction, thus Taren took
advantage of the moment to take a seat in her large office and sit with her thoughts.

This entire building had been constructed at the end of a long pier, in order to have a good depth of water beneath the hangar bay in which the Astro-Marine Institute would be constructed. The expansive top floor of AMIE's new headquarters was all office space, crowning a huge hangar bay — ten storeys tall. The project managers' living quarters for the duration of the build were located a short walk down the beach. Out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun was setting in a blaze of bright orange and purple, at the northernmost end of Taren's ocean view. There were shields one could engage to block out the evening rays, but she chose to soak up the sunshine and it felt good.

‘Could I have possibly manifested a more idyllic work situation for myself?' Taren delighted in the fact a moment. It seemed rather a shame that this amazing situation was just a cover for her true vocation. That daunting thought brought her worry about Starman back to fester. Still, there was really nothing she could do, short of teleporting herself to Zeven or her father unannounced — a very unwise move and one she was not prepared to take, not even for her dearest friend. Hence, Taren decided that for the moment she could pretend that AMIE was her whole world and she did not have evil to disperse, curses to lift, secret services to defeat, psychics to liberate and star systems to unite — and that was only her responsibilities to this universe!

‘Knock, knock.' Lucian stood in the doorway with a huge smile on his face, and a frown as well. ‘You look a little worried, is something wrong?'

Taren smiled to reassure him. ‘Not with this project.' She packed away her work station to take back to her unit.

‘Swithin and I were going to grab some dinner in town. Would you like to join us?' Lucian asked politely, although Taren had to wonder why; she'd been giving the same answer since they'd started working together.

‘Thanks, but I'm going to order in, I've got work to do.' She dismissed him with a smile.

‘You could do it tomorrow?' he suggested, gamely, which Taren found alluring.

‘Perhaps I should have said, I have work on other projects to do,' Taren rephrased for clarity. ‘Do you really want me working on other people's projects on your time?'

Lucian suppressed his surprise and a strained smile of defeat. ‘I didn't realise you had other interests outside of AMIE?'

‘I have fingers in many pies,' Taren enlightened him, ‘that's what Anselm pays me for.' This was a white lie, but other projects gave Taren an excuse to be busy and preoccupied outside of the AMIE project.

‘I feel cheated on,' Lucian joked, his grin broadening.

Taren laughed at his inference and, collecting her luggage in one hand, she patted his cheek with her other on her way past him. ‘Not to fear, this project will always be my first love.'

Lucian appeared a little spellbound, as he always did when she made skin contact with him. ‘Until tomorrow then.'

It was on her way down in the lift that she got the page from Anselm, finally green lighting her visit.

 

The accommodation on Frujia was independent units, erected high upon poles above the beach, one beside the other. You reached them via a road and path that ran along the cliff bordering the shoreline on this part of the Frujian capital island of Kotan Bathaar. Each unit had its own walkway access to the front door, and also had stairs down to the beach far below — but it was only ever cool enough to swim at dawn or dusk and it was quite a hike back upstairs.

For temporary constructions, the units were very comfortable and practical. When the AMIE vessel was complete, the dwellings would all be deconstructed, along with the hangar-bay building. Not a trace of the project would remain to scar the pristine beach, which they had
been granted temporary residency on by way of a lease with very stringent conditions attached.

Once in the privacy of her unit, Taren left all the blinds drawn and headed for the shower — just the short walk in the twilight sun made a wash and change of clothes necessary.

On the verge of departing for the meeting with her father, there was a knock on her unit door, and she needed only one guess as to who it was. Lucian's subtle persistence was gratifying and frustrating all at once, for she had no idea how long her window of opportunity to visit her father would be.

Her door slid aside and Lucian stood bearing takeaway and wine. Taren's heart melted and her blood boiled — his sentiment was so sweet, but his timing could not have been worse.

‘Takeaway,' he announced, as if complying to her wish — which he was, in a way.

Taren played the frustrated businesswoman well, standing there pretending to be perturbed with her arms folded. ‘You know that was not what I meant. I have a conference call with Anselm within the hour.'

Clearly, Lucian had stepped way out of his comfort zone with this gesture. ‘We could eat quickly?' He had one last attempt to salvage the situation; his eyebrows raised in question as he cracked the half smile that made Taren want to kiss him.

‘We could.' She wanted to kick herself for letting him in; now it would be twice as hard to keep him out in future. Still, she couldn't leave Lucian feeling completely rejected; his happiness was vital to her own. ‘I'll get some glasses.' She fetched these from the kitchen, along with some cutlery and then opened the blinds and door to the front deck. As night had now descended, it was a bearable temperature outdoors. ‘After you.' She motioned Lucian to the outdoor setting.

‘Sorry, if I am intruding,' he said, as he placed his load on the table.

‘Sorry, if I seem like a frightful bore who works too much.' Taren shrugged off the inconvenience. ‘But unfortunately that is the nature of my job, Anselm gives me no time for a social life.'

‘I think you need to negotiate better work conditions.' Lucian took a seat and focused on opening the wine.

Taren laughed this off, throwing her hands up and motioning to the paradise around her. ‘Better than this?'

Lucian nodded to concede her point and shyly queried it. ‘Must be a little lonely though?'

Taren shook her head and took a seat opposite him. ‘I'm never alone when I'm in front of that work station.'

The way Lucian looked at her implied that he considered her response a cop out.

‘And I have you and Swithin for company during the day,' she summed up. ‘My life is full!' She broke open a carton of noodles and began to eat.

Lucian poured the wine, clearly more interested in talking than eating. ‘So you're not dating anyone at this time?'

She'd been expecting this question for weeks now and she awarded that he'd managed to wrangle that information out of her in a not so obvious fashion. ‘I don't date work colleagues and I work all the time.' She shrugged, accepting her glass of wine from him. ‘What's a girl to do?' She took a few sips to steady her nerves, as her heart was pounding nineteen to the dozen inside her cool exterior.

‘And if I were to ask you on a date?'

In answer she shook her head, regretfully. ‘This project has a long, long way to go, Lucian. If we have a falling out, there are going to be big problems and if we get involved on a personal level, that only doubles our chances of jeopardising the project.'

Lucian nodded, as if he'd already known the answer. ‘And what if we were not working together?'

The heat of the evening, or perhaps the moment, was suddenly rather intense, and Taren was so tempted to just wrap herself around
him and forget the entire cosmic agenda that was laid out before her. ‘But we
are
working together for the next decade or so —'

‘No, I don't think so,' Lucian objected half in jest, and half serious. ‘To be perfectly honest with you, Taren, I think I would rather quit the project.'

‘What?' Taren was sincerely blindsided by his statement. ‘You're not serious?' She cracked a smile, feeling he was bluffing.

‘I am deadly serious,' he assured, holding his glass up to her. ‘So, if we were not working together, would you see me?' The way he said the last part of this sentence, made her realise that he felt she didn't really see him as a person, let alone as a potential love interest, and she hurt for him.

‘I do see you, Lucian, I do,' she declared, most sincerely, before returning to hide behind her work facade. ‘But if dating you means you quit, refusing to date you means that you may as well stay.'

Lucian lost his humour. ‘Don't you ever take that damn business hat off?'

An argument; this was a promising development in Taren's eyes. She was running out of time, and the willpower to keep her distance from him. ‘I do apologise,' she faked being affronted, ‘but personal favours were not in the contract.'

Lucian was insulted, frustrated, and finally just embarrassed. ‘You're right.' He stood. ‘I won't keep you from your interests any longer.'

‘Most appreciated.' Taren's heart ached and her head gave a cheer to see Lucian exit the front door, which he slammed a little bit louder than necessary.

Taren winced, but did not pause to take a breath before messaging Anselm to ensure it was not too late in the day to make the transfer.

Her father immediately responded with a ‘we're still good to go', whereupon Taren envisaged herself at her father's side, and tingled all over as the molecular world complied to her prompt.

 

What an idiot!
Lucian could hardly believe he'd read the situation so wrongly, or been so unprofessional! Dr Lennox was absolutely right to be annoyed at him. Still, it wasn't like he'd accosted her — he'd only brought her dinner. It did make sense to keep their relationship on a business level, but the thought of working with Taren and remaining detached was inconceivable! Heaven forbid if he had to watch her date someone else! He dreamt of her often and he thought about her
all the time
— how was he supposed to keep it on a business level for a decade?

Why her?
He appealed to common sense, as he entered his own dwelling, situated down the beach next to Taren's. He'd never been this attracted to another human being — so why did he have to choose the one woman who was vital to the survival of his project?

Yes, it is a gamble that could go horribly wrong
, he conceded.
However
…
if we could make it work, it could be the perfect situation for both of us
. How he wished he'd said that to her face. Had she even conceived of
that
possibility? Lucian knew, from the way he caught Dr Lennox looking at him sometimes, that she was interested, and she claimed she was not dating anyone else. He'd been so sure the attraction was mutual.
Perhaps she is just putting her professional priorities before her personal ones, like I used to be able to do
. Lucian scolded himself and took a breath to accept that he was in the wrong in this instance. Taren wished to be left alone to work this evening; she'd made that very clear and he'd intruded anyway. He'd hoped that she might have been waiting for him to make the first move — so he had and clearly she was still not interested in seeing him outside of business hours.

An apology is in order
. Lucian did an about face and headed straight back over to Dr Lennox's unit. Obviously he would be disturbing her, yet again, but he wouldn't be able to sleep until he'd resolved the situation.

He knocked then stood rehearsing his apology in his mind. Once he'd been over it a few times, he knocked again, and several minutes later there was still no response. The entry pad said the door was unlocked.

Perhaps Taren is on her important call to Anselm, and I should come back later?

He took a few steps toward home.

Still, even if she was on a call, she would acknowledge a knock on the door?

Lucian stopped in his tracks and turned about.

What if she has hurt herself?

At the risk of looking like a stalker, Lucian opened the door and entered his colleague's unit.

The door to the front veranda was still open and the warm evening breeze blew through the dark interior, which was otherwise deathly quiet. ‘Dr Lennox?'

 

When Taren arrived inside the personal office of her father's private home, she wasted no time with niceties. Taren found her working relationship with her father far more comfortable than being his daughter — all memory of him had been erased from her memory banks by the MSS up until a couple of months ago. ‘What is going on? Why has it taken so long for you to grant me an audience?'