Her breathing hitched and there was a tightness in her chest that caused a burning behind her eyes. But she sucked in a breath and swallowed the emotions down, stuffed them back into the darkness where they belonged. Right now, she needed to focus on surviving the situation she was in, not the impending one that was her future.
Colin’s threat not to feed her until she did some work had been serious, she’d seen it in his eyes. And though he didn’t yell or look angry the way her father did, his stillness and his posture radiated a quiet unyielding strength that couldn’t be ignored. Her first priority while here was to make sure she received food. So, she returned to the kitchen. And she stood there with her hands on her hips frowning trying to think what he expected when he said to clean the place up.
The kitchen was very strange looking and she wondered how it compared to the one back home. It was very cubicle in nature, with shiny white doors and sleek control panels. Just to see if Colin had only been threatening, she tried pressing the buttons he’d showed her on the food synthesizer, but it didn’t respond. She sighed. Iblis take the man.
The servants had always unobtrusively taken care of everything at home. Meals were always prepared and ready at the appropriate time. Clothes were gathered, cleaned, and replaced in the closet. An outfit appropriate for the day’s weather was always there, complete with accessories. If she wanted a warm bath or someone to dress her hair, she had only to speak her request and her desire was accommodated right away.
The servants of her dimension were lower level Jinn. Their powers were weaker and more common than that which ran within her family. But Genevieve, who had no power at all, still envied what they did have. She’d unobtrusively studied them as they went about their daily tasks, careful, however, not to let them see. How did they wield the power? Was there something she wasn’t doing? She’d tried emulating the servants, mimicked the various flicks of fingertips and gestures ... but, nothing. Lately, more than once she’d caught disdain on their faces when she’d made requests. They, too, considered themselves above her now.
The chores Genevieve had seen them do were all accomplished through magic. Dirty dishes and clothes vanished somewhere (she’d always wondered where), and then new ones were conjured when they were needed. The furnishings of the home, if moved out of place, were rearranged with the wave of a hand. She suspected food was taken care of in much the same way as the rest of the house was but she wasn’t sure. That was a whole other area of curiosity for her.
Jinn had no dominion over living things. They could not create nor take life using their powers. So, was the growing of plants and animals done in the human way in other parts of her dimension? She had no idea. They were the responsibility of the working Jinn, those of the lowest power, barely above humans. And she wondered now what powers they did have. Whatever they were, as small as they were, it still qualified them to be Jinn. And ultimately, they would rank above her.
The emotions began to well up again. Powerless. Unskilled. Below even the lowest class of Jinn. She shook her head to clear the shameful thoughts and returned her attention to the space around her. She would not be weak in addition to being powerless.
Okay, so, he wanted her to clean the place up... She thought of the servants back home again. If the things were simply out of sight, that should please him. That’s how it always seemed to work back home.
With a wrinkled nose, she began organizing the assortment of dishes into stacks. What little food remained in some of them, she gingerly scraped into a bowel. Then she opened one of the cupboard doors, shoved the stacks in among the other contents, and closed it. There. Done. She swiped her hands together, and moved into the living space.
A few garments were scattered around there and also in the bedroom. She gathered them up into a bundle and shoved them under the bed. A box blocked her way, so she pulled it out and set it on top of the bed to make room. It was easily the most beautiful thing she’d seen in Colin’s home so far and looked completely out of place among his other things. It was a lovely shade of lavender and had a black and white striped lid.
It would have to go somewhere else, she decided. It would be easier to simply stack somewhere than to find another place for the bundle. It was strange this feeling she had as she surveyed her work. Even though the tasks had disgusted her, the movement had felt good. And also ... she couldn’t put her finger on it ... but yes, this was what satisfaction must feel like, she thought with wonder. Small accomplishment that it was, cleaning the place had felt good.
She wrinkled her nose as she patted her hands against each other and wondered where to wash them? At home a servant would have magically lifted a pitcher of water and poured it over her hands into a basin as she washed them. There had to be something similar here. There was a sort of spout over a basin in the bathroom, so she went to investigate it. Did it, too, have some kind of button like the food synthesizer? She touched it but nothing happened. No buttons or panels appeared. Perhaps it responded to a spoken command?
“On,” she said.
Nothing happened.
“Water.”
Still nothing. She moved closer and reached in toward the basin to see if perhaps a button lay there that she hadn’t discovered, and suddenly water began running from the spout. She had no idea what she’d done, but the small victory made her smile and give a little hop of joy. After a few seconds a jet of foam squirted from the spout into her hands, and she lifted it toward her face to sniff it. Some kind of cleanser she supposed. She rubbed it over her hands then stuck them back under the spout for more water, which ran for a few more moments before then switching to warm air.
Aha! This is how they do it. As she dried her hands she wondered again at the magic behind such a thing. But then, Colin would probably say what he had before about it being science. She wasn’t sure what that was, but he acted as though it were a simple explanation. Maybe the Jinn had been wrong about humans all this time. Maybe they did have magic. They just called it by a different name.
But if it was magic, then who made these objects? Had Colin made them? She would ask him when he came back. But for now, she had to find somewhere to put the displaced box. She walked over to the bed and pulled it toward her.
Curious, she lifted the lid to look at the contents and gasped with pleasure at the sight of a dress made of beautiful gold mesh with an intricate design over it. This was the sort of thing she was used to wearing! She lifted it in her hands and held it against her body. It had long sleeves and a skirt that reached all the way to the floor, both of which would have to be altered, of course. But it seemed to be her size.
How she longed to remove the horrible black service clothes she had on. She’d arrived in them, slept in them, and spent the entire day in them. It was time for a change, and she decided the dress would do perfectly.
IT WAS LATE WHEN COLIN returned home, which he felt bad about again. But he’d refused to leave the lab before coming up with something to present to the others in the morning. The planet had cycled into night and the windows has sealed as well. So, when he stepped across the threshold and inside, his first thought was that in his exhaustion and the darkness he’d somehow made a wrong turn somewhere and come to the wrong unit. But no, it was his. No one else lived so far from the settlement like he did.
However, what he saw before him bore little resemblance to what had been there when he’d left just a few hours ago. Gone was the comforting simplicity of his living space. The furniture had been moved around. Instead of the couch that had been in the center, a rug of sorts now graced the middle of the room with a ring of colorful makeshift pillows on it. The far wall had an intricate and colorful drawing across it that reminded him of a nebula. It was a burst of violet laced with gold, with dots of light blue, and veins of green and red at the edges that made it seem three dimensional. A small cluster of native plants had been artistically arranged in a bowl in the center of the table and another one sat on the counter. Where had she gotten the pain
t, and the rug, and the means to make pillows? There was something oddly familiar about them.
“Genevieve?” he called.
No answer.
But, unless she’d left, there was only one other place she could be. He strode into the bedroom to find her curled up diagonally atop his bed, facing away from the door. Her face was pressed into his pillow and she held the edge of the silver cover clutched to her chest. He froze, once again astonished by her beauty. In the relaxed state of slumber, her face had a youthful innocence to it that made him want to press a kiss to her temple and stroke his hand across her glossy thick hair. She was dressed in a beautiful gold gown and her long shapely tanned leg was thrown forward through the long slit that ran up the skirt to her thigh. A triangular section had been removed from the waist to reveal a flat belly which rose and fell in coordination with her breasts. The tops of those soft mounds had been pressed together in her sleep by her arms, making them rise temptingly from the low-cut neckline of the gown...
Then Colin froze as he recognized the dress, and his admiration turned into a white-hot fury. It was Maddy’s dress, the one she had worn on the happiest day of his life; The ceremony where they’d become bound to each other for the rest of their lives. And now, it was permanently altered beyond recognition. He suddenly realized where Genevieve had gotten all the colorful materials in the living space. They were Maddy’s things, which he hadn’t had the heart to discard and had carefully stored in containers in a shed at the side of the housing unit. The wall had not been decorated with paint after all, but with Maddy’s makeup and nail polishes.
He turned, walked back out to the living space, and grabbed a pillow. Yes, one of Maddy’s garments had been torn and crudely bound to make a pillow. He pried at a crudely tied seam to peek at the contents. White synthetic stuffing... That solved the mystery of where the couch was. It innards now filled the numerous pillows that now graced the floor. No doubt he would find the frame outside in the morning, laying in the dirt like an abandoned skeleton. One look at the downfacing side of the carpet revealed that it was indeed the fabric that had upholstered the couch. Genevieve obviously preferred the geometric patterns on the back side to the simple soothing gray of its surface.
He stood, scowling, and rubbed his face with his hands, wiping away the moisture that had seeped from beneath his eyelids. I don’t need this right now. I do not need this. Maddy’s things and all her memories were gone, destroyed by the strange woman he’d saved on some stupid impulse. He wished desperately that he could rewind and redo the last day, that he could have turned a cold shoulder to the proud and defiant woman who now lay sleeping on his bed.
Lucky for her, she wasn’t awake, because as furious as he was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to refrain from doing something he knew he’d regret. No, it was a good thing she was unconscious, because he needed to get his temper back under control. He had important work to do, and he didn’t have even one second to waste spending his energy or emotions on a strange female or some paltry possessions.
Without bothering to change his clothes, he turned out the light and lay down atop the surprisingly soft pillows and, for a long time, stared into the darkness.
Chapter Eight
Colin hoped to rise and leave for work early in the morning before Genevieve woke. He needed a clear head for his meeting, and a confrontation with her prior to that would just throw his focus off. But, when he couldn’t find a clean dish anywhere for his coffee and breakfast, he wondered what the blast she could have done with them all.
He wasn’t a morning person as it was, and for her to come between him and his coffee by hiding all the self-brewing and heating thermal tumblers put a scowl on his face that he didn’t bother to try and hide. He marched into the bedroom and shook her by the shoulder, not caring if she slapped at his hand again.
But this time, she just started and rolled over. “Ugh, you again,” she said and rubbed at her eyes. Then, he thought he heard her mutter something like, “I thought this would be over by now.” But he didn’t bother asking her to repeat it.
“What did you do with all the dishes?” he said.
She frowned. “I cleaned them up like you asked me to. You should be grateful.”
“Cleaned them and put them where?”
She rose slowly, shooting him a look of disdain. He tried to ignore the slim ankles and dainty bare feet that were exposed as she scooted to the edge of the bed to stand. With a toss of her hair, she regally led the way to the kitchen where she opened one of the upper storage cabinets, one he hadn’t bothered to check because he never stored anything there, and pointed.
“You’re welcome,” she said, with a small satisfied smile.
He stared in disbelief at the stack of filth and reached up to remove them. “What the...” Yes, closer inspection revealed that they were indeed still dirty. “These aren’t clean,” he said. “You just hid all the dishes?”
She frowned. “I didn’t hide them. You said to clean up.”
He stared at her in silence, jaw clenched.
“I cleaned up,” she insisted.
“No, you didn’t,” he said. “You think this is a joke? That you can come here, lay around, and destroy my dead wife’s possessions? The only memories I have left of her? I have no idea which constellation you came from, but you’ve gone too far. You are unbelievably selfish!” She flinched back from the finger he pointed in her face. “And at the worst possible time. Do you even know what’s going on right now? Can’t you even picture how bad, how serious—” He cut himself off because his voice had risen to a shout, and his chest was heaving with emotion. Anger never solved anything, but oh how good it had felt to indulge it for half a second.
Genevieve’s eyes had widened, the gold centers highlighted now by the gold fabric she was clad in. She stepped back.
Shit, he’d scared her. He paced a few steps away and tried to gather himself. They were still strangers to each other and he didn’t want her to feel threatened. But how else could she feel? At the moment, she was a small dependent female, and he’d just towered over her and yelled like maniac because he hadn’t been able to get his coffee when he wanted it.
He turned to face her again and was surprised to find her directly behind him, so close that he almost bumped into her. Her cheeks were now flushed and her eyes sparkled with anger. “If I didn’t clean the way you wanted me to, it isn’t my fault! You left me here alone and gave me no choice. I did the best I could! And I ... I don’t know how to clean!” The last part came out in a wail, stunning him.
Of all the excuses she could have given, that was one he was completely unprepared for. What kind of human being didn’t know how to clean? And, from the looks of her, she wasn’t putting on a show. Her frustration was sincere. A few tears had even gathered in her eyes.
But, for the first time in a long time, Colin wasn’t alarmed by the sight female tears. In fact, he was damned admiring when flipped her hair back over her shoulders, flicked a tear from beneath her eye with a fingertip, and said in a haughty voice, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I did what you asked. On top of that, I cleaned the rest of the place and also made it beautiful and you didn’t even thank me! You said this was my home now. And, if it is, then I’m allowed to put my own touch on it, not that you left me anything to do that with. So I had to be resourceful. And I know I did a wonderful job on your sterile, boring, square-of-an-excuse for a home!” She paced half a step forward and nearly spat the words in his face.
He was the one to take a step back this time. Where in the multiverse had she come from? And how had she gotten to this age without learning to do something as basic as clean? Had she come from a wealthy family and was now trying to escape something? That was the only scenario he could think of that would fit. Whatever the reason was, clearly it was a strong enough motivation for her to leave what must have been a very comfortable life to come to this experimental rock. And he could only have compassion for that.
�
��You didn’t show me how to do the things you wanted me to do,” she was saying now, continuing her tirade. “What did you expect?”
He blinked. “You’re right.”
“Everything here is new to me—” she seemed to deflate as his words registered. “I ... I am?”
“I just wished you’d told me before I left for work. I would have shown you what to do.” He pushed his sleeves back from his wrists. “Well, all the dishes are dirty now, so we’re going to have to wash them before we can have breakfast. Let’s do them together.”
GENEVIEVE WATCHED IN fascination as Colin carefully showed her something he called the Solara machine. After explaining how the dishes should be propped up and arranged inside the compartment, together they loaded the first batch for cleaning. After he closed it and showed her which button to press, she stood watching in aw, listening to the faint whirring inside until it beeped a few seconds later.
When Colin opened it again, she lifted a dish and examined it. “It’s clean. How does it do that?”
“With power and some programming.”
“You wield power?”
“Er, not really. Channel energy is more like it. You can’t really wield it.,” he said. “We harness the cleansing rays of the suns with a panel outside and channel it here to the Solara to sterilize them. You’ve never seen a Solara before either?”
“Um, no. We don’t have them where I come from,” she said, and hoped he wouldn’t ask how her people did get dishes clean.
He grunted and looked skeptical. “I guess I’m going to have to show you how to use all the machines if you don’t know how the ones in the kitchen work.”
“That would be best,” she said with complete seriousness.
Genie's Awakening Page 6