“Of course. We stopped and ate. You made a call. Then we came this far before you were tired.”
Alex tried to retrieve memory and was vaguely successful. He remembered the cellcom in his hand. Who did he call? He heard a brief blip of male voice. Paul Dinardo. What did he tell him? That they were going and he had to look after Jaguar. He was afraid – did he say that? That he was afraid he’d kill her? Why would he say that? He turned his frown to Brendan, who replied to his unspoken thoughts.
“Because you know you will,” Brendan said. He looked around, looked up at the sun, which stood at midmorning. “It’s getting late. We need to go.”
“I should make another call,” Alex said, thinking of Jaguar.
“I threw your cellcom away,” Brendan said. “You won’t need it anymore.”
Alex thought briefly about taking him down, right here, right now. He could bring him in and deal with him in the regular Planetoid way.
Then again, what he was doing was one way the Planetoid dealt with prisoners. And he’d said something about getting near the works. Within his bleariness, Alex felt the tug of Adept space, stronger than he’d ever felt it before, and it told him that was important. He had to find out what it meant, and that meant he had to trail after Brendan for now. He’d be okay, he thought, as long as he stayed away from the stones.
“I’m ready,” he said, hoping that was true.
They left the beach and walked on the outskirts of the city, heading toward the rainforest eco-site. Brendan was talkative, asking intelligent questions about environmental issues on the Planetoid, listening intently while Alex explained how they managed things like waste, and erosion and atmosphere.
“Wait,” Alex said at one point, “Couldn’t we catch a cab? It’s still a few miles and I’m kind of whipped.” He felt drained, as if he’d been taking powerful drugs, and was experiencing the consequent crash.
Brendan smiled at him sadly, as if he understood. “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “It’s better if you just keeping holding them, though.” He reached into his pocket, presumably for a stone.
“No,” Alex said quickly. “I’d – rather wait until we get there.”
Brendan looked disappointed, but removed his hand, empty. “No cabs,” he said. “It’s important that we walk. The Mother wants it.” He waved a hand ahead of them, to the bridge that separated city from outlying areas, crossing the silver surface of a lake outlet. “Let’s stop on the bridge for a bit and rest.”
They started across the footpath built for pedestrian enjoyment, and at about the halfway point Brendan stopped, looked up and down the bridge, and went to the railing. He leaned his elbows on it. “This is a good spot, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” Alex said, and leaned his elbows next to Brendan’s.
The lake at their feet was a mirror for the blue sky over their heads. It was a pretty day. Not too hot or too cold and lots of sun. He looked forward to getting to the rainforest site, and wandering under the canopy of trees, listening to the birdsong. It was so full of life, Alex thought it would surely have a good effect on Brendan, lost in Thanatos and the urge toward death.
Brendan was silent, giving Alex some time to sort out his thoughts, try to understand what Artemis was doing to them both. If Brendan spoke to the Mother through his small stones, maybe they acted as a transmission and amplification unit, making telepathic signals more accessible, stronger. Beyond that, he knew they’d work on each man individually, just as they did on the women, moving them into their own desires and fears as they mingled with power.
For him, the power and desire to save was paramount, along with the fear that he wouldn’t be able to. For Brendan, the power of death was most important, maybe along with a desire for it, and a fear that he wouldn’t be able to – to what? To die, or to kill? Either way, they made an interesting match, Alex thought. Of course, the more important question was how he’d be able to manage himself and Brendan while he figured this out.
Alex was musing on this when a woman walked by, nodded at them. Brendan observed her approach and Alex noticed how the presence of other people barely skimmed the surface of his molecules, while at the same time he was in intense contact with everything around him. He wondered how that worked.
Brendan stared at - past? through? - the woman, reached into his pocket and pulled out his small white stone. Turned it over again and again in his hand. The world around and inside him began to shift.
Shit, he thought. Just by being near it? He worked to block, and regained some equilibrium. Better. That was better.
The woman slowed as she approached them, then stopped and smiled.
“Nice day,” she said.
“Nice place to see it,” Brendan agreed.
She stopped and leaned on the railing next to him. “Good place to find answers, if you got questions.”
Alex, using all his energy to block, heard her as if she was very far away, or as if he viewed the scene from within a bubble filled with some liquid that rendered him incapable of action. He was not there. He couldn’t move to be anywhere else. He struggled against the feeling, and got nowhere very slowly.
Smiling broadly, Brendan held out the stone to her. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
She took the stone, cupped it in her hands. Alex watched as she leaned further and further over the railing.
No, he thought. She shouldn’t do that.
He had to stop her, save her. He was responsible for that. But what if he couldn’t? What if he failed? Folded in on himself and didn’t act in time, acted in the wrong way? Maybe it was better to do nothing, try for nothing because anything he did might be the wrong thing. Fear washed through him and held him still. He saw the woman leaning further and further over the railing.
“No,” he gasped, and willed himself into motion, his hands grabbing at her, holding her, while her body twisted over the railing and dangled high above the water. “No,” he said again, feeling her slip from his hands which were sweaty and felt her heaviness.
He’d had dreams like this. Bad dreams where he was trying to hold on to someone and they kept slipping away or he grew clumsy and his hand wouldn’t properly work, the thumb and finger forgetting how to grasp and hold.
“Grab hold of me,” he said desperately, “Grab hold.”
She smiled up at him. Clutched at his belt. Something ripped. Alex turned and saw Brendan, his hands held out in blessing as she let go and fell down and down. Her body bounced off a footing and disappeared into the water.
It all happened so softly, Alex could hardly believe it was real.
“We have to get help. I have to call this in,” he said. He reached for his cellcom, then remembered it was gone. Brendan had thrown it away. He looked up and down the span of the bridge. He’d have to walk back, get help. Do something. He turned on Brendan, who smiled at him beatifically.
He pulled another stone from his pocket and pushed it into Alex’s empty hand. It happened so fast, Alex didn’t have a second to say no.
You see how easy it is. How much they want to go. How good they feel when they do it. It’s all good, and you did save her after all because if she didn’t go, what would she have here? Waste and death and pain. Just waste and death and pain.
You saved her.
Alex felt a sensation of relief, of release, but his body and his mind struggled against it. Was this what it mean to save someone? No. It wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Maybe to Brendan, but not to him.
Was it?
He looked at the stone in his hand, knew that whatever he felt came from this and not himself. He moved his hand and let it drop. The fog lifted, and he blinked over at Brendan.
“Why?” Brendan asked him.
“Why what?” Alex asked.
“Why didn’t you join her?”
He peered over the side of the bridge. Why didn’t he? He could have. He still could. Brendan’s hand rested on the railing, holding a stone. Turning it over and over. A stone. Hadn’t he given that aw
ay? To the woman. The woman Alex could join.
Why didn’t he join her? What possible reason did he have for staying around?
Cool clear laughter filled him. Green eyes. Amber skin. The scent of mint in the air. She laughed.
Alex shook himself. Took a step back.
“Because,” he said. “I didn’t want to.”
Brendan bent and picked up the stone Alex had dropped, pressed it back into his hand.
“You will,” he said. “Let’s go.”
He walked across the bridge toward the rainforest, and Alex, swimming through fog, followed.
* * * *
Miriam tapped her finger against her desk, and considered a few items of business she had to attend to now that she was back on the Planetoid. Most of them she could take care of herself, but there was one she needed some help with, and she new where to get it.
She turned to her telecom and punched in numbers. When a face appeared on her viewscreen, she smiled.
“Larry, darling,” she said. “Are you secure?”
“Always. Are you?”
She sighed, mildly offended. “How long have we known each other?”
Too long, she thought even as she asked it. Since they met at one of those idiotic dinners where business people pretend to be philanthropists and give each other awards for taking tax deductions through charity. She’d asked his advice about stocks, and he recommended some. He had no idea she’d be so good at playing the market, end up with so much money under cover of a company he’d helped her invent.
In fact, she was now a major stockholder in La Femme. And now, here they were, trying for a Planetoid, and he didn’t trust her a bit to share if they got it. Not one little bit. Nor should he, she thought.
“It’s been some time, Miriam,” Larry said neutrally.
“Then you know I’m secure. Listen. You said call if I need anything, and I do. Remember that conversation we taped, talking about Artemis and me saying we could never put a plant on the Planetoid?”
They’d made a few tapes like that, anticipating their usefulness in maintaining the illusion of Miriam’s opposition to Artemis.
“I remember,” he said.
“Put a date on one. For tonight, between nine and ten. Okay, love?”
When he opened his mouth to ask why, she held up a finger and wiggled it back and forth.
“Let it be a pleasant surprise,” she said, emphasizing the word pleasant. She flashed him a smile, the one that said she was a warm and loving woman who took care of her man. Sometimes he thought she actually believed her own bullshit.
“Take care of it right away, will you? It’s important. We’ll be in touch,” she said, and signed off.
When Larry’s face disappeared from the screen, Miriam sat at her desk, smiling. She enjoyed her interactions with Larry. He was good in bed, and he had the kind of wealth that creates power as well as material comfort. Sometimes he lacked vision, but she had enough for both of them.
She reached into her desk for one of the stones she kept there.
There were many Artemis compounds, each with its own properties, uses, and hazards, but she liked the moonstones best. They were the heart of the moon, she thought, and had all the same qualities as that body of cool light. They cleared the mind, made night vision possible, and increased the strength of women who knew how to bear big power without collapsing. Women like her.
She smoothed the stone in her hand and relaxed her mind, relaxed her breathing. She learned early on that to go into this tensely was painful, and gave her headaches. But if she simply breathed in the Artemis, let the energy of it flow into her, then she could see things she never thought possible, know more than she ever knew before.
It made her laugh when Larry questioned her capacity to handle Alex. Of course she could handle him, just as she could handle Brendan, or any man. Men were such silly creatures, relying on foolish structures like logic and administrative flow charts because they lacked the capacity for complex thinking. She could dance rings around them, with or without the moonstones, though they certainly helped, making it oh so easy to be in the minds of those she needed to control. They would serve her well in her goals, which were as clear as her vision.
She would own her very own world. She would exploit it and run it.
The clarity of that vision was the gift of Artemis, available for her use but not for Larry, or Alex, or any man.
Of course, the gift wasn’t for every woman, either. That Addams woman, for instance, wanted to keep anyone from having the kind of skills she had. But Miriam wouldn’t be held back. She knew what her plans were with Karena, and how to use them to suit better ends. Jaguar, she thought, was as foolish as any man.
Miriam caressed the smooth piece of the moon in her hand, and it amused her to think that her plan, better than any Jaguar could imagine, would almost literally be killing two birds with one stone.
* * * *
The next day, Jaguar left Terez and Fiore in the forest, with instructions to go nowhere beyond their camp circle. Their craving for punishment was stronger than any restraint she might apply. They seemed impatient, as if death was tardy, but they were prepared to believe that part of the punishment was the waiting. They settled into themselves like two more trees in the forest, and were silent.
Jaguar dressed herself and Karena, and they walked the two miles of woods between the camp and her vehicle. As they drove, Jaguar saw Karena’s face close into a pinched ball of tension, and she winced whenever another vehicle passed them on the road, or when wings flew too low over their heads.
“Nervous?” she asked.
Karena bit at her lip, hands working hard in her lap.
She would be the hardest of the three women to work with, Jaguar thought. Terez and Fiore had a depth of character, but Karena had very little in the way of internal resources to guide her to self-knowledge.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked.
Karena took a deep breath. “That it will hurt,” she gasped out, then lapsed into silence.
“Don’t worry,” Jaguar said. “I never heard of shopping being that painful.”
When Jaguar pulled into the parking lot of a mall Karena sat there, staring dumbly ahead.
“What’s wrong?” Jaguar asked. “You love to shop. You’re always just a little - hungry. Aren’t you? Or, maybe not hungry so much as ready to consume, regardless.”
Karena made a small noise inside her throat. Jaguar laughed.
“I’m giving you what you say you want,” she said, “but you despise yourself for wanting it. Unfortunately, I think that condition pre-existed your crime by many years. Get out of the car, and let’s go.”
She pulled her up by the arm and Karena allowed herself to be led across the lot, through the mall entrance, and into the first department store. They were in the lingerie department, and Karena turned to a red silk nightgown, burying her face in it and moaning. Jaguar rifled through a belt pack and pulled out a card.
“Work the plastic, girl,” she said, tapping her on the shoulder with it. “I’m right behind you.”
Karena released the nightgown, touched the card with the tip of her finger, then brought it to her mouth. A giggle bubbled out from between her fingers.
“Go on,” Jaguar said, pushing the card at her. “Knock yourself out.”
With a swift tug she grabbed the card and turned focused eyes to the racks of clothes around them.
Jaguar trailed after her from rack to dressing room, dressing room to checkout, as she piled up clothes. Karena paid, and Jaguar was glad this was a reimbursable expense. Then, clutching her purchases to her, they went into the mall, where they combed the shelves and racks of every store, Karena’s eyes focused as a hawk’s when it sees prey. Shoes and scarves, nailpolish and pantyhose, face creams and underwear and strange little hairpieces and a hat and makeup. What she wanted seemed as endless as what was available for purchase.
While they walked from one store to the next, Ja
guar saw, in her peripheral vision, a newscom rolling the days events across the screen. Someone had witnessed a jumper go off the bridge between the city and the eco-sites. No body had been recovered yet. That was bad, she thought. Connected? She hoped not. This case didn’t need any further complication.
She looked back to the store she’d just exited - an accessory store, where Karena fondled sunglasses and cheap jewelry and belts and gloves. She moved back toward the store, then stopped abruptly and stood very still.
One of the Board governors was in the store with Karena. Miriam Whitehall. She looked casually at a pair of sunglasses Jaguar knew she’d never buy. They didn’t cost enough by half, and Miriam always wore the best of everything. She put them back, and turned to Karena, put a hand on her shoulder. Karena startled, turned around, and took a step back. Miriam placed a hand on hers. She was saying something. Jaguar couldn’t tell what.
She walked quickly back to the store and got there just in time to block Miriam’s exit. She stood with her hands on her hips and her legs wide. “Hello, Miriam,” she said. “What brings you here?”
Miriam smiled. “Shopping,” she said. “And you?”
“The same,” Jaguar replied.
Miriam nodded at Miriam. “With a friend?”
“Sure,” Jaguar said.
“You have interesting friends.”
“So I’m told.”
They stood facing each other. Jaguar would be damned if she’d move first.
“Well,” Miriam said, a split second before the silence grew too tense, “I’d better go. Reports to file and so on.”
She took a step to one side and Jaguar got out of her way. Before she turned away, Miram gave Jaguar one more smile. “Give Alex my love, will you?” she said. Then she made her way across the mall.
“He won’t want it,” Jaguar said mildly to her retreating back. She went into the store and grabbed Karena’s elbow, leading her out. “C’mon,” she said. “Time to go.”
She led her to a bench and sat her on it, commanding her, doglike, to stay. She got out her cellcom and punched in Rachel’s number. She didn’t waste time with amenities.
“Anything from Alex?” she asked.
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