WarriorsandLovers (3 page)

The question came out of the crowd. Elijah felt sick. It was
going to start all over again. He stared ahead, trying to think of
something—anything to say to avert another disaster.

“I had my phone with me. I called Jill,” one of the women
said.

“I told the fireman,” someone said. Elijah assumed it was
Jill.

“Good job, Elijah,” one of the other firefighters called
out.

Elijah’s shoulders slumped in relief. They thought she’d
told
him
. He guessed they all looked the same in their gear. As long as
the guy she had spoken to didn’t say anything, this would look like a routine
rescue.

He needed everyone to see it that way. He needed the guys to
stop talking about his so-called woo-woo senses. Never mind that he couldn’t
hear actual words, just sense emotions and images, if the press got hold of
this they would tear him apart.

He’d been building barriers piece by piece against his
abilities since childhood. Today, his barriers weakened by fatigue and stress,
he’d been blasted by the women’s deathly, mind-numbing fear. He could no longer
deny it. This thing living inside him was growing, taking over.

With the fire under control, Elijah returned to the station
and signed out. He had four days rostered off. He would spend all four of them
getting a handle on a way to control this thing. He refused to give in to it.

He fell onto his bed and slept until the thudding of a fist
against his door dragged him awake. The sun had not yet risen. Disoriented and
sleep-dazed, he dragged his jeans up over his hips and staggered to open the
door, pushing his hair up out of his eyes. When he saw Brian Hopewood standing
there he winced and tried to slam it shut again, but Hopewood stuck one foot
inside. Elijah glared at him but the man refused to back off.

“I thought you were giving me a week,” Elijah snarled.

“I intended to but I don’t think you’re going to last that
long,” Hopewood said, pushing his way past Elijah into the apartment. “This
ability you possess is growing faster than I expected. I can’t afford to risk
it coming to the attention of…” He hesitated for a moment. When he went on,
Elijah thought he’d altered what he had been going to say. “To the attention of
the authorities. I’m sure neither of us wants you to be the subject of any more
publicity.”

“Damn you. You have no right to spy on me!” Elijah yelled.

“Better me than somebody else. Odd coincidences tend to
happen around you, Mr. Denton. To someone like me, the conclusions to be drawn
are obvious. At least I mean you no harm”

“So you say. Doesn’t mean I believe it,” Elijah said, but he
followed Hopewood to the table. He was too tired to fight. Nothing he’d done so
far had helped. Listening to Hopewood couldn’t make the situation any worse.

Hopewood lifted his head. His gaze locked with Elijah’s. “I
told you last time we met. Human beings are not the only sentient hominoid
species on this planet. We are not alone. The others who share this planet are
our implacable enemies.”

Elijah’s shoulders slumped. The man was still crazy and
wasting his time. “I don’t want to hear a load of crap about vampires,
werewolves, ghosts or zombies.”

“Nor shall you. Let me fill you in on a history few people
know. The Dvalinn dwell underground,” Hopewood said, his voice hypnotic. “That
is not their choice. In times before written history, humans and Dvalinn came
into conflict. The Dvalinn lost and were driven into an underworld where, apart
from brief excursions to the surface, they have remained.” His head swayed from
side to side in a strange, bobbing motion. Elijah couldn’t look away.

“They come to the surface? Then why hasn’t anyone ever seen
them?”

“Oh, they’ve been seen. The Dvalinn are humanlike in
appearance. It takes a special ability to tell the difference between a Dvalinn
and a human. I had such an ability.” He touched his damaged face. “Before my
injury, but not now. I no longer have the skill or strength to defend the human
race. You have both, Mr. Denton. You alone have the ability to save your people
from destruction.”

He leaned forward, his head still weaving in a strange
dance. “The enemy wants to destroy the human race so they can once more take
control of the surface world. From beneath the surface they use their
psychokinetic powers to channel geothermal heat. They create hot spots under
the oceans, change the pattern of sea currents. Climate change is real but it’s
not a result of human activity. It’s a plot by the Dvalinn to destroy our
biosphere. Only when the human race is extinct will they readjust the thermal currents
and emerge to claim the surface world for themselves.” His voice dropped even
lower. “This is the greatest threat mankind has ever faced. The Dvalinn must be
stopped.”

Elijah scrubbed his hands across his face, trying to get his
thoughts straight. “Even if I believed you, how could I help with something of
this magnitude? This is a job for the government or the military. If the threat
is real, all the armies of the Earth ought to be united against it.”

Hopewood nodded. “You’re right, they should. I have tried
for years to alert those in authority but to no avail. My reception has been…”
He paused and swallowed convulsively. “Let us say I have realized the utter
futility of trying to convince those who should have the power to stop it that
the danger is real. I have used a great deal of my resources—and I am a rich
man—in an effort to save the human race.”

He stopped. As soon as his voice died away, reason and
common sense began to reassert themselves. Elijah knew that Hopewood
believed
what he was saying—he could read the message loud and clear—but Hopewood’s
delusion didn’t make it true.

“You’re telling me,” Lije said, trying to make sure he’d
heard what he thought he had, “that a humanlike race called the Dvalinn are out
to get us and no one is doing anything about it because they don’t believe
these people—if they are people—exist in the first place. That about it?”

“Your cynicism is obvious, Mr. Denton, but yes, that is
indeed
about it
.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to take up the battle.” He rubbed his hands
together. “You’ll be well trained and well rewarded.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Elijah interrupted. “I don’t
know what you want from me.”

“I told you before. I need your unique abilities to take the
fight to the Dvalinn. To their world.”

“Whoa. Wait a damn minute.” Elijah held up his hand, palm
facing outward. “You want
me
to go underground and fight these people?
Me and what army?”

“No army. I said your abilities are unique. I meant it. You
will go alone.”

“Against an entire race? You have
got
to be kidding
me.” Only when the words left his mouth did Elijah realize he was arguing not
against the existence of an alien race of people but against the wisdom of
Hopewood’s plan. Somewhere during this argument he’d subconsciously accepted
what Hopewood had told him.

“Stealth is essential to success,” Hopewood replied. “Your
telekinetic ability can be developed. With sufficient training you’ll be able
to teleport undetected into the Dvalinn realm.”

Elijah felt the blood draining from his face. “You want to
increase
my powers?”

“That will be necessary. Yes,” Hopewood agreed, his flat
tone sending a cold shiver down Elijah’s spine.

“I want to get rid of this shit. Not get more.”

Hopewood shook his head. “The need will be temporary. Once
you have completed your task, I can ensure your unwanted abilities never
trouble you again.”

Elijah leaned over the table, forcing himself not to grab
the man by the collar. “If you can cure me of this…affliction, do it now.”

Hopewood’s eyebrows rose. “Then you wouldn’t be able to do
the job I need you to. You’ll have to wait.”

“What if you’re lying?” Elijah leaned back enough to give
himself room to breathe.

Hopewood’s mouth twisted into a bitter line. “I’m not lying.
The Dvalinn have the ability to remove the special abilities of their people.
They use it to minimize the chances of detection when they come to the surface.
The physiology of humans and Dvalinn is similar. Any process that negates
telekinetic or empathic abilities in the Dvalinn will work on a human. Once I
have achieved my objective, you have my word, those facets of your nature that
cause you such distress will no longer trouble you.”

“I could
force
you to do it now.” Elijah’s fists
clenched on the table in front of him.

“I’m not afraid of you. I have a high tolerance for pain.”
Hopewood shrugged. “I don’t believe you’d hurt me to gain what you want. You
have an altruistic nature. You’ll find it hard to resist doing humankind such a
service.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Elijah muttered.

“Come to a training camp. I’ll give
you
fifty
thousand dollars if you give
me
one month. If at the end of that time
you wish to call a halt, you’ll be free to return here to resume your fire-fighting
duties, fifty thousand dollars better off. If you agree to continue, at the end
of the mission I’ll place half a million dollars into any account you nominate.
I’ll take care of the other matter for you.”

“All I have to go on is your word.”

“I’m sure you looked me up on the net,” Hopewood said. “You
know I’m good for the money, but if it will ease your mind my lawyers will draw
up a contract—one that binds me but leaves you free to do whatever you decide.”

“There’s a saying,” Elijah mused. “If it seems too good to
be true, it probably is. Why would you sign a document limiting your choices
but not mine?”

“Because I need you.”

“But I don’t need you.’ Elijah replied. “I’ve lived
thirty-four years without knowing anything about these…Dvalinn. I’ve managed to
keep a lid on my other problem.”

“The lid’s about to blow off, though, isn’t it? One more
accident
,
good or bad, you might have no choice.” Hopewood stood. “I’ll have the
documentation drawn up. I’ll be back in two days—if you don’t contact me
first.”

He walked to the door and let himself out. Elijah sat at the
table, staring into space, not sure if he was trying to comprehend all Hopewood
had told him or to bury it so deep he’d never have to think about it again.

He tried to fit what he knew and what he feared into a
coherent pattern but it only disturbed him more. Any truth that explained all
the things happening around him was too horrible for comfort.

He pushed himself up and went to get dressed. At least at
work he’d find something to take his mind off this ridiculous conversation.

By the time he arrived at the station his eyes felt gritty
and a headache pounded inside his skull. The creak of the station chief’s door
opening grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“Elijah, could I have a word with you?” he asked. The words
clanged in the air around Elijah with the ring of doom. He followed the chief
into his office.

“You’ve attracted a fair bit of attention lately, Elijah.”

“I hate it,” Lije replied. “I never asked for any of the
reporters to follow me around or write those stories.”

“I don’t imagine you did,” the chief said. “But nevertheless
you’re a topic of interest. Every fire we attend has a swarm of journalists and
photographers getting in our way, shoving microphones in people’s faces. The
guys are getting pretty fed up.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I only have
to take one look at you to know it’s getting to you too.”

“My fifteen minutes of fame has to be over soon. The media
will move on to something—or someone—else. I’ll keep a low profile…”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work, Lije. Every rescue you
make, there’s gonna be scrutiny and speculation.” He rocked forward. “I think
it might be a good idea if you took some leave.”

“I don’t need—” Elijah began.

“I don’t want to make this a formal suspension, Lije. You
don’t deserve that, but I will do what is necessary to keep this station
working and the people manning it an efficient team. We can’t afford anything
divisive. The attention you’re getting is having that effect.”

The man’s tone told Elijah any further argument would be
futile. “How long before you want me back?” He looked up as the silence hit
him. “You do want me back, don’t you?”

“If you can come back as a team player, yeah, we want you.
You’ve always been one of our best firefighters. But we don’t want a celebrity
with a reputation. If that happens, you’ll be looking at a transfer out of
here.”

And if he had to take a transfer out of this station, Elijah
was pretty sure his unwanted fame would precede him at any station in the state—maybe
in the country.

Shit! His life had got a whole lot messier.

“Eora, get back here. Now. You’re going to get into serious
trouble.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” Eora shifted her pack
higher on her shoulders and turned to face her companion.

“Never,” Nieko muttered, loud enough for her to hear. “But
the situation’s changed. Turn around. Come back to the city.”

She lifted her chin. No one, not even Nieko, told her what
to do. “I don’t think so.”

Nieko took a deep breath, the ridged muscles of his chest
flexing. He was so handsome. So good. So everything she wanted. A pity he
wasn’t interested in her as more than his best friend.

His gruff voice recalled her to the conversation. “And
there’s the problem, Eora. You don’t think. You do what you want.”

Eora shrugged. “Even if I get caught, I’ll get off with a
warning. That’s what happened last time we went somewhere we weren’t supposed
to.”

“Only because we hadn’t reached adult status. You won’t get
away with a warning this time,” Nieko said. “The council is on high alert.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Well it bloody well should! This is not a game. Maybe you
don’t remember how many of our people were killed when the Gatekeepers
attacked.”

“I’m not stupid.” Eora’s voice grew sharp with anger. “Of
course I remember. I also remember Tybor and Huon went to the surface to wipe
out the Gatekeepers. The human they brought home with them killed the leader
and saved their lives.”

“If you know all that, you know how dangerous it is outside
the cities now. Why the hell are you leaving the safety of the inhabited zone?”

She felt her face heat. Hell, she hated that. She shouldn’t
feel ashamed of the things she wanted to know.

“It’s your damn fascination with humans again isn’t it?” he
snapped. “How many times do you have to be told? They’re the enemy.”

“The one who saved Tybor and Huon isn’t.”

“So
they
say. But no one believes it. Why do you
think they have to live in exile? No one trusts her. No one ever will, even if
it weren’t for the…” He broke off. Under his golden skin, twin red slashes
fired up on his cheekbones.

“Their relationship. The three of them are in a
re-lay-shon-ship
.”
She said the words slowly as if she were talking to the fool she knew very well
Nieko wasn’t. “I would have thought you could at least talk about it to
me
.”

“I can’t. I won’t. You don’t know who might be listening.”

Eora made a strangled sound of disgust. “Let them listen.
They don’t frighten me.”

As she watched, everything in Nieko stilled. His faced
looked hard, only his eyes glittering. “They should frighten you. The
Un-Dvalinn Behaviors Committee are zealots. Zealots are dangerous.”

“I can stay out of the way of the UDBC.” She grinned at him.

“Shows what you know,” he retorted. “High alert means they
have a trace on every teleport. They know who, when and
where
. You zap
out of here and within thirty seconds of materializing at your destination
they’ll have someone there to arrest you. You won’t get away with it.”

“Actually, I
do
know. Which is why I’m not teleporting
at all.” She patted the shoulder strap of her pack. “I have everything I need
in here. I’m going to walk to where I’m going.”

“No! Turn around and go home.” He sounded fierce and angry
but she knew Nieko would never hurt her.

“I’m not going back. I want to know the
truth.
It
matters to me.” She poked him in the chest, her finger barely making an
indentation in the golden-brown skin. “It used to matter to you.”

The high spots of angry red flamed brighter on Nieko’s
cheeks. “The truth only matters if it can be used to protect our people.”

Eora’s fists clenched. She opened her mouth to speak but
Nieko cut her off.

“Maybe this human
is
harmless. It doesn’t matter. The
council condemned Tybor and Huon’s sexual relationship with her as un-Dvalinn.
If they hadn’t voluntarily gone into exile they would have been imprisoned.”

“So if I want to talk to them I have to go to where they
are,” she said in a teacher-like singsong. Nieko was intelligent. She shouldn’t
have to lead him to the obvious conclusion.

“It’s
not
safe! Most of the UDBC want Tybor and Huon
locked up and the human killed. Even if you knew where they’d gone, they’re not
going to roll out the welcome mat. They’re likely to attack first and
never
ask any questions. They’ll hurl fireballs at you on sight.”

“If they do, I’ll duck.” She smiled at him again even though
she knew it drove him crazy. “I don’t look like a member of the UDBC. As long
as I don’t do anything aggressive, Tybor and Huon won’t attack me.” She really
hoped that was true, because the exiled warriors had reputations for being
outstanding fighters. If they threw fireballs, the chances were they’d hit any
target they aimed at. While she had passed the compulsory fighting units in her
education, she’d been a long way from the top of her class.

“You are so naïve,” Nieko shouted. “It’s not safe.”

“You keep saying it but I still I don’t believe it,” Eora
stated. “I’m doing this. You can come with me or go back to the city. Please
yourself.”

For a long moment she waited but Nieko remained silent, arms
folded, feet planted apart, as immovable as the rock walls of the caverns they
lived in. At last she turned her back on him and walked away.

* * * * *

Nieko watched Eora leave, his fists clenched. From the time
they’d been kids, Eora had done what she wanted to, courted any risk, always
certain she was right.

They’d been paired as partners from their first battle
training session. Eora was a quick, agile fighter, with a strong capability for
strategy, but Nieko had always been taller and stronger, always tempering the
force he used against her in combat practice.

Because Eora refused to admit inferiority in any field,
Nieko disguised his protective urges, but he never left her to face any
situation on her own. Wherever Eora went, Nieko went too, his help and
protection always there for her. When a youthful, impulsive Eora had tried to
sneak up to the surface world to observe human activity, he had gone with her.

Trouble had found them, but not from humans. A
representative from the Un-Dvalinn Behaviors Committee had met Nieko and Eora
at the exit portal, arrested them and dragged them before the tribunal, charged
with attempting an unauthorized surface excursion. It had taken all Eora’s
high-ranking parents’ influence to get them let off with a warning and a reeducation
course. Nieko, who didn’t need the course, had attended diligently. Eora had skipped
most of the lessons, relying on Nieko to cover for her. Because Nieko always
did.

“I never learn,” Nieko muttered to himself as he watched the
diminishing figure of Eora striding into the distance. Maybe he’d be able to
convince her to turn back but he doubted it. Far more likely he’d be condemned
to walk into trouble beside her. He snorted. Hell, he’d have to run to keep up
with her headlong rush.

He transported quickly back to his quarters, threw a few
essentials into a bag, then projected himself as far forward as he dared along
the path where Eora had marched off. With luck the UDBC was too busy searching
out miscreants to monitor short teleport hops within the outer limits of the
inhabited zone.

When he appeared beside her in a silver shimmer, Eora didn’t
even have the grace to look surprised. She grinned at him. “What kept you?”

“I had to get supplies. Traveling between inhabited zones on
foot is…unprecedented. I don’t think you have any idea how long walking is
going to take.” Nieko grumbled.

“I didn’t do this on the spur of the moment,” she replied.
“I have a plan.”

Nieko suppressed a shudder. Eora always had a plan. The
problem was getting everyone else to go along with it.

* * * * *

The taxi pulled away, leaving Elijah standing staring at the
building in front of him. At home, it would be a historical monument. Here in
the English city of Salisbury, a warehouse with the date 1650 inscribed on an arch
over the door was apparently nothing out of the ordinary. A few modern touches
had been added, like plate glass windows and external electric wiring, as if no
one particularly cared about destroying the heritage value of the site.

Lije looked at the screen of his phone then back at the
number painted on the door. This was the address Hopewood had given him. He
touched his thumb to the doorbell but didn’t press it. He still had time to
change his mind.

The screech of brakes from across the street caught Lije’s
attention. A car, wheels locked, tires squealing, bore down on a pedestrian on
the crossing. There was no possibility the man could get out of the way.

“No!” The word roared out from Elijah’s mouth. At the same
time the pedestrian flew straight upward out of the way. The car slid past the
spot where he’d been. The driver of the car looked around wildly then hit the
gas and sped away. The pedestrian floated safely back down to the footpath. He
looked at Elijah, his face white and shocked, then he turned one hundred and
eighty degrees and scurried back down the street.

Elijah faced the door and rammed his thumb down onto the
bell pad. This was why he was here. In the last week, his tenuous control on
his abilities had all but disappeared. Sure, just now he’d probably saved the
man’s life, but there had been other instances, like the kid on the skateboard,
where Elijah’s anger had caused harm.

Fear had driven him call the number on the card he hadn’t
been able to throw out.

Hopewood had been patronizing. “You’ve made the right
decision. For now, you’re on leave. How long before they sack you?”

Elijah gritted his teeth. The bastard still had him under
surveillance. Before he could protest, Hopewood said, “I’m currently in the UK.
I’ll book a flight for you and text you the arrangements.” He’d hung up without
another word. So here Elijah was, doing what Brian Hopewood wanted because the
risk to other people if he didn’t was too great to bear.

A stocky man opened the door. “Come in.” Elijah stepped into
a rectangular room. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving him facing a
blank wall.

On his left, a panel slid open and Brian Hopewood stepped
in. “I regret I have to ask David to conduct a quick search to make sure you’re
not carrying any recording devices or weapons. That includes your cell phone.”

The search David conducted was quick but thorough. Elijah
submitted but his muscles hardened in anger.

When the man finished patting him down, he stepped back and
nodded, Elijah’s phone in his hand.

“Thank you, David,” Hopewood said. “Please come with me, Mr.
Denton.”

The office Hopewood showed Elijah into was bigger than
Elijah’s entire apartment. The smell of leather and paper permeated the air.
Three of the walls were lined with shelves housing hundreds of books, the
covers worn and cracked with age.

Hopewood followed Elijah’s gaze “My collection of demonology
texts. Many of these volumes are one of a kind, some individually hand printed.
I have spent a good part of my life and fortune collecting them.”

“Why demonology?” Elijah eyed Hopewood warily. He didn’t
want to set him off on another crazy rant. “Demons don’t exist outside some
people’s imaginations.”

“I am fully aware demons are mythological creatures. I
acquire the books because they’re beautiful and the topic fascinates me.” His
cool demeanor was reassuring. “I imagine some aspect of demonology—the presence
of an alien, malevolent species—resonates with my knowledge of the Dvalinn, but
I assure you it’s a minor part of what motivates me to collect.”

Hopewood gestured Elijah to a seat, then took his place on
the other side of the desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a laptop
computer. Elijah raised his eyebrows. With Hopewood’s resources he’d expected a
larger, more high-tech machine.

Tapping a finger on the dark gray case, Hopewood said, “This
computer has no modem. The building is shielded from Wi-Fi networks. The only
online access is through me.”

He pushed the machine toward Elijah but kept his hand on the
cover. “Before we go any further, I’d like to make something clear. While
you’re at this facility you are to regard yourself as a soldier, subject to a
soldier’s discipline. You will take orders from me or from David.” Hopewood
looked past Elijah, his eyes raised to a distant point some way over Lije’s
shoulder. “Do you understand?”

He understood all right. The guy was on some kind of power
trip. Still as long as he didn’t abuse it, Lije could put up with discipline.
After all, his job was run on paramilitary lines. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t
experienced before. He gave a short nod of agreement.

Hopewood stood. “The exact details of your mission won’t be
revealed to you until you’ve undertaken training and I’m convinced of your
commitment to the cause. All the information you need at this point is contained
here in a series of files. I’ll leave you to go through them at your leisure,
although you’ll have to remain here to do it. Nothing you see on this machine
is to be discussed with anyone else. No files are to be copied. Your phone will
be returned to you only at the completion of your mission or if you decide to
leave us.”

He walked to the door. “There is a call button on the desk
behind you. Press it when you’ve finished.”

The door shut. Lije booted up the computer, tapping out a
repetitive rhythm on the desk as he waited for the programs to load. When they
did, the files he opened left him reeling. Like most people, Elijah knew what
could be achieved with Photoshop and computer graphics, but the evidence
Hopewood presented combined with the quiet certainty of the man himself quelled
most of Elijah’s doubts. After all, weren’t his own abilities proof there was
more to life on Earth than science could explain?