Then the earthquake hit.
Elliot was born and raised in Los Angeles, but this earthquake was beyond anything he had experienced. Luckily, he was prepared for it. The other people were not.
First came the mighty slam as the quake smashed into the buildings and the floor lurched. Then came the shaking which went on and on. He ran inside, past the panicking policemen, found the man with the keys, grabbed them and then found Yukiko’s cell.
By the time he had unlocked it, things had stopped moving. The policemen were shaken, but returned to their posts.
“Use your magic to get us out,” he told her.
“I don’t have enough.”
“I know. Take what you can from me.”
He held her hands and faced her, knowing that if she could draw energy from a person by dancing, then perhaps a willing donor could help her.
He looked into her eyes. She was so young now. Though her features were unchanged, she was a different person.
“You love someone,” she said.
“I love a few people.”
“Think of her.”
He did. He thought of Bennu, the desert woman, of the faint markings on her face and collarbones that only appeared in a certain light, of the sounds she made in her sleep. Then, the vision left him, as if a black curtain had been pulled. He felt hollowed out, but as if the act had been done by a gentle hand. He knew it was only temporary.
“Let’s go,” said Yukiko. “Take my hand.”
She led him out of the station, past the officers who turned to look in the opposite direction from them, as if they had heard a voice call their name. Yukiko led Elliot along, her steps sure and light, her gaze straight ahead.
“Did you do this?” she asked.
“The earthquake? Are you serious?”
“I don’t know what you are. I cannot tell.”
“I’m just a man. A human. I’m no one.”
“Why help me? I have offered you nothing.”
They reached the street. “You’ll see me again. A long time from now. Here.” He gave her the rest of his money, and she looked from the stack of bills to his face and back again.
“I am not agreeing to any sort of deal or exchange.”
“I know. Just stay alive.”
She looked away then, at the destruction and the rising smoke. A horse-drawn fire truck clattered by and a nearby woman yelled something in Cantonese. The men did not stop.
“I should go help them,” she said. “But I intend to do as you say. I will stay alive.”
He left her there, on the street in her dancing outfit, and headed for Portsmouth Square. Neil was waiting with the time machine and held a large, flat, cloth-wrapped parcel.
“A painting,” said Neil before Elliot could ask. “I had to save it from the fire. The house was empty.”
Elliot didn’t bother to question or protest. If Neil wanted to run into a burning building for a painting, Elliot couldn’t stop him. Neil was a mental curator of sorts, always wanting to listen to music and view pieces of art. He was captivated by it all, though he usually only sought to enjoy the art, not to own it.
“Any void wyrms?” he asked.
“Yes. I forced them back and closed the rips. I also got some good readings for Seamus. He’ll be pleased.”
They walked back to their entry spot into this time, knowing it was a safe location from which to travel. It was only later that Elliot realized he had never given Yukiko his name.
Chapter 5
Felicia Sanchez-Doyle had two important things to tell her husband, but first she had to find him. He wasn’t working in his upstairs laboratory or reading in the bedroom they shared in the Los Angeles safe house. He wasn’t in the backyard, nor had he taken a walk around the block. His mobile phone was sitting on his desk, the battery dead.
In fact, no one at all was home. That in itself was concerning, as the Los Angeles safe house almost always had someone coming or going.
“Nothing worse than having news and no one to tell,” she muttered and got herself a glass of water.
A moment later a sleek white cat glided into the kitchen. This was Pangur Ban, mother of the two younger cats, Frieda and Diego.
“Is the news good or bad?” asked the cat. She must have heard Felicia from the next room.
“Good. But where is everyone? I thought Hazel was home for a while.”
“She is. Everyone is looking for Julius.”
“Where is he?”
“If we knew that, then we wouldn’t be looking. But I understand your meaning. We noticed this morning that he was gone. Apparently no one has seen him in days. We all assumed he was in his room reading.”
“A fair assumption,” said Felicia. “He usually is.”
“Indeed.”
“Have you called September or Augustus?”
“No one can reach Augustus either. September is back in nineteenth century New Orleans in Seamus and Hazel’s world, so no one has gone to visit her yet. The group decided to check on Julius’s usual haunts and there are a few private libraries that he had mentioned wanting to visit.”
Well, then there was nothing to do but wait. She took a shower and made a sandwich. When Seamus finally returned home, he scooped her into a tight embrace and kissed her. Hazel hung her car keys near the kitchen door and hugged her.
“How long have you been gone?” asked Seamus.
“Three weeks for me.”
“Only one week for me.”
“Did you find Julius?” Felicia asked.
“No. He’s just gone.”
“It’s not like him to leave. He’s always here. That’s why it’s the safe house.”
“Precisely.” Seamus looked out the window. It was overcast but warm with a little electric thrill in the air, as if a thunderstorm was coming. “I wish it would rain already. I miss the rain.”
“You miss Ireland.”
“That I do. So tell me, did you have any luck on the blue material?” asked Seamus.
“Lots of luck,” said Felicia. “We couldn’t figure it out in this time because we don’t have the proper technology yet. But in twenty years, we do. I’ve spent a good number of hours in a medical lab at UCLA and I can tell you this. The blue stuff is biological material.”
“From what?” asked Seamus. “What on God’s green earth has fluid that glows pale blue? Is it one of those plants in the Amazon? Or perhaps a creature from under the sea? I’ve seen programs on the television about the animals down there.”
“Not that I know of. I need to go forward farther in time to get more information.”
“Then go! I’ll go with you.”
“It’s not so easy. I need to do more studying to learn how to even use the scientific findings developed between now and then. If I go waltzing into a laboratory without knowing what I’m looking for or how to use the lab equipment, I’ll get thrown out. It takes time.”
She followed him up to his laboratory and told him about her findings while he searched through the mess for one thing or another.
“It’s not like any biological material we’ve encountered before,” she said. “It’s not plant, that’s for certain. It lacks the cell walls and other cellular differentiators. There was never any question on that. But it’s not animal precisely either. That’s what got me. On the one hand, it has a typical structure to the cells, well, some of them. Most had nuclei, but some didn’t. It wasn’t until the second day that I knew what I was looking at.”
Seamus glanced at her but didn’t interrupt.
“The plasma was bizarre. Completely strange. But was, without a doubt, plasma.”
“And that means what, exactly?” he asked.
“It’s blood.”
“G
lowing light blue blood?”
“Yes.”
“Blood from some strange animal we’ve never encountered before.”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“And in order to make more time machines, we need to find this animal and get its blood.”
“Correct.”
“Can you duplicate it? Don’t they clone things in the future? Can you clone the blood?”
“They do know about cloning, but I’m not sure if I can. I’d need to do a lot of research.”
“Well, crack your books, because I learned something as well. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’ve had Elliot get me some readings from your original time rip in New Orleans as well as the earthquake in San Francisco. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m close. I think I’m near to being able to get you home.”
“But what about you getting back here afterward? Or to your home world? If it’s this hard to get to my world, what if you can’t get back?”
“I’ve already left my home world once,” he said.
“I meant Hazel. Wherever she is, you’ll want to be too. And I’m sure you want to visit your family in Ireland some day.”
He got a wistful look and turned to straighten things on his desk. The entire room was a disaster, and she knew that if he was cleaning, he was worried.
“I’ll find a way. Or, maybe she can come with us.”
“And Neil?”
“The whole gang. The cats too. I don’t know yet, but as long as I’ve breath in my body, I’ll not leave you without your family.”
“Speaking of which,” she said, sidling up to him, leaning back against the desk and watching him from the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to miss this moment, and she paused until he looked up at her.
“I’m pregnant.”
The change on his face took a few moments, and she watched the words bounce around the pinball machine of his mind. Then he gave a cry and scooped her into his arms, first silently and then with an endless stream of rapid words on boy and girl names based on his countless relatives, preparations and how she ought to be resting. Then he kissed her again and again.
Hazel poked her head in the door. She glanced away, as seeing open displays of affection still bothered her. You could take the girl out of the nineteenth century, Felicia thought, but some things ran too deep to be removed by moving between centuries. Hazel still hated revealing clothing and public kissing.
“Augustus seems to be gone too,” Hazel said. “He’s not at the boardwalk or his house. And June Yee in San Francisco isn’t answering her phone. Neither is Red Fawn.”
Pangur Ban slid in behind Hazel and watched them with unblinking eyes.
“They’re all gone,” said Seamus, glancing at Felicia, then at the others. “The watchers on the ramparts, they’ve deserted their posts.”
“Or maybe they’ve gone to man them,” said Felicia.
“If that’s happened, then may God help us all,” said Pangur Ban.
Chapter 6
Astrid let Yelbeghen push in her chair after she unfolded her napkin and spread it on her lap. The drake looked like a man, with dark hair, wide-spaced, grayish eyes and a wide, pleasant mouth. And though Astrid had never seen him in his true form, after four years of meals together, she thought she almost understood him.
Because of a deal she had been forced to make on behalf of the Seelie, she was required to dine with him once every two weeks. He was not an unpleasant companion, and she didn’t mind visiting him. She usually enjoyed it. He was lonely, which was largely his own fault, and she had told him so a few times. But tonight, something else was on her mind.
“Have you ever known of anything that might cause souls to be more sticky than normal?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’ve run into a few lately. More than usual. Jeff isn’t worried, but I am.”
“You could have called me to take a look.”
“I only promised to take you on three jobs with me. I’ve fulfilled that part of our bargain.”
“Yes, but you’ve taken me on far more than that. You enjoy my company.”
“Forget about that,” she said, feeling her face grow warm. “I want to know if there were any time periods or events that caused more souls to be stuck here. I’m finding a few that have been stuck for too long and no psychopomp was ever summoned.”
“Time periods, no. Events, yes. Well, events coincide with time periods, so in that respect, yes to both.”
She could tell that he was in a feisty mood, wanting to banter and flirt, while she wanted information.
“And what events were those?”
“Times of great change, of upheaval or when there were lots of deaths. World Wars, famines, the Black Plague. Events like that.”
“What about now? These people didn’t die in wars or famines.”
One of the servants took their empty salad plates and replaced them with dishes of steaming eggplant parmesan with pasta and grilled zucchini. Astrid, being Unseelie by birth, could eat no meat without becoming ill. The drake always remembered this each time they dined.
“I don’t know,” said Yelbeghen. “Interesting you should mention it though. There have been other disturbances. I was forced to seal off a Door in Tangier recently. Some of the Seelie were harassing the locals. It became serious. Stealing children, causing people to become lost, that sort of thing. Some people were even being led into Seelie and returning months later.”
“You can do that? You can seal off openings to other worlds?” Astrid could open and close her own Doors, but could not seal the Doors of others.
“It’s difficult, but yes.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You’re barely over two decades old. I have far more experience.” He gave a little, self-satisfied smile.
She forgot that sometimes. The drake, for all his years, often seemed unsure of himself, vulnerable even. As much as he ruled over his possessions, he was ruled by them. He was lonely, occasionally cruel, intelligent, eccentric and unusually selfish. He was also completely devoted to her.
Yelbeghen collected things, people and animals, but most of the people were there willingly. He had servants, but they were treated kindly. His animals were well cared for and any being who was too freakish and strange to live in the regular world was welcome on his Mediterranean island. The place was beautiful and was part sanctuary and part prison. At times, Astrid wondered which one it was for her. She was obligated to dine with him fortnightly, but she enjoyed the experience for the most part. Also, using her Doors, she came and went as she pleased.
“I saw the movie you recommended,” he said. “The one with the aliens.”
“Pretty good, didn’t you think?”
“It was. But I think the humans who made it let on more than they mean to. I mean, really. Beings from the dark of space, from another world, taking people and returning them later? They’re sidhe.”
“I only said you should see it so you could participate in the normal world. You’re too isolated here. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“I did. But I still think it’s telling more than it means to.”
“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Aliens are just aliens.”
“Well, one type of being I’ve never met. One I have. Simple.”
“Maybe it’s not about the sidhe. Maybe it’s about all things in the void. Like your kind. Drakes are void creatures.”
“As are all Doors.”
“So you’re saying that humans know about Doors on a subconscious level?”
It was odd for her to categorize people as “humans,” but when she was with Yelbeghen, she allowed the distinction. She was human by choice, but could never live honestly among them.
“Yes,” he sai
d. “They know something. And I think you knew that when you recommended the movie.”
“I didn’t.”
They debated the points of the movie and then moved on to a discussion of a book they had both read, followed by a brief argument about one of his new sculptures. At the end of the meal, Astrid gave him a gift, an original painting from an artist in San Francisco whose house had burned down during the great quake of 1906. Yelbeghen studied the painting and thanked her.
“I will care for it. Where did you get it?”
“A friend of mine from the Time Corps who loves art saved it before the house burned. He said you’d care for it better than he could.”
“Was this your Neil Grey? The golem?”
“That’s him. And no, he’s not interested in meeting you.”
“Pity. And is Captain Hazel Dubois considering retiring from sailing?”
“You won’t get her ship either.”
“She won’t live forever.”
From anyone else, it would have sounded ominous. But from the drake, it was a matter-of-fact statement of desire. He wanted Skidbladnir, the living Viking ship, and he wanted to meet a golem. Both were rare, and he loved rare things.
At least he was up front about what he wanted. It was refreshing after dealing with the rest of humanity with all their unconscious manipulations and unspoken desires that they themselves were hardly aware of. They all simply hurt so much, were so hungry inside, and all of them thought they were more hurt and more hungry than the others. So they smiled and made small talk and drank their coffee and drove their cars, and each and every one of them was alien to her.
“Have you made any more art for me?” he asked.
“You’ve rejected every piece I’ve shown you.”
“I still want to see them. Do you have your sketch book?”
She carried one in her purse at all times, but she didn’t want to show him. She said as much.
“You still owe me an original piece of art.”
The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series) Page 120