by Sam Cheever
I eventually dropped into hover in the air space that was designated for air vehicle parking at the unplanned care unit and waited for the floating corridor to come my way. Suspended on a tangled architecture of metal arms, the corridor was a giant, hollow tube that travelled from vehicle to vehicle, providing an airlock and walkway into the building. When it arrived at my door and latched on, I climbed out and started walking toward the building, which was super-terra, meaning it hung above the ground on a complex foundation of devices that were powered by the sun.
The waiting area was full so I did what I usually do. Walking to the window behind which the triage meds sat, I asked for my sister. Darma always pulled me in ahead of the rest of the poor schmoes who didn’t know anybody at the unit.
The woman behind the counter stared at me for a long moment, chewing edible tar that smelled like evergreens and then smirked. “She doesn’t work here anymore.”
I frowned, “There must be some mistake. ‘
The woman shook her frizzy, blonde head, “No mistake, honey. She was fired.” Despite the bad news, the woman made her pronouncement almost gleefully.
“Let me talk to your supervisor.”
The woman shrugged and said, “You’ll have to take a seat, she’s with a stage four med case right now.”
I sighed, nodded and reluctantly returned to the waiting area. A stage four was almost certainly fatal. I’d probably be waiting for a while. A couple of the people in the waiting area frowned at me as I walked past. Apparently they didn’t cotton to my use-your-sister-to-budge-ahead-in-line tactic.
Ignoring their sour pusses, I sat down in one of the impossibly uncomfortable chairs. My mind roiled with the possibility that what the woman behind the counter had said was true. I rejected the possibility immediately. My sister was the ideal employee. Conscientious to a fault. Inhumanly dependable. And unreasonably fond of her job. It just wasn’t feasible that she could have been fired.
About a half hour later a woman approached me. She was tall and thin and had brutally short white hair. Her eyes were triangular shaped and a strange, golden yellow color. As I stood up she offered me a long, narrow hand. “You must be Astra, I’m Doctor Clovis Lee.”
I nodded, surprised she knew who I was.
She smiled and said, “Darma talked about you a lot.”
She did? Talked? Past tense? Oh-oh.
Doctor Lee gave me a sad smile and squeezed the hand she still held. She looked as if she’d read my thoughts.
“I did,” she said and I gave a little jerk of surprise.
“Please come with me. I believe we’ll be more comfortable in my office.”
I fell into step beside her, trying to mask my thoughts, unsuccessfully it seemed. At one point I couldn’t help thinking that it must be a bitch to have a boss who could read your every thought and she nodded. “I’m sure it is.”
We reached her office and she stopped, motioning for me to precede her into the room.
When she’d closed the door behind us I asked, “Venusian?”
It was her turn to look surprised. “How did you know?”
“In my line of work I need to know all of the paranormal species.” My smile widened. “And I used to date a Venusian. We were really hot and heavy until he pulled from my mind that I thought he was a bit too full of himself. The relationship was like a Venusian sunset from that point on, short and very colorful.”
She laughed. “Our men do tend to be a bit arrogant. We’ve grown used to it on Venus but outsiders sometimes have trouble dealing with them.”
I nodded. “We just call it tall man syndrome.”
She laughed again. “That works too.” Her attractive, narrow face sobered and she looked down at her hands, which were twining nervously in front of her on the desk. “I’m sorry about Darma. Apparently she didn’t tell you?”
I shook my head. “So it’s true? She was fired?”
Doctor Lee winced. It was obvious she hadn’t wanted to fire Darma. “I’m afraid so. I tried to fight it but the board insisted. She was devastated. She loved her work here.”
I nodded, thinking I knew the answer to the next question but needing to ask it anyway. “Doctor Lee, when did this happen?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
About the time Darma moved back home to castle Phelps.
“I knew she wouldn’t tell you. She was always so secretive. And this...” the woman’s expression clearly showed her pain. “She wouldn’t be proud of this.”
“What happened? Why was she fired?”
Doctor Lee’s triangular yellow eyes found mine and they were filled with regret. “She did the only thing the board couldn’t forgive in this facility. The one thing we warn against from the first day you join us. She used magic to heal a patient.”
It was good I was sitting down because otherwise I would have fallen right on my ass. “Darma?” I couldn’t keep the incredulous note from my voice.
Doctor Lee didn’t seem to notice. She was buried in her own thoughts. “It was a mistake of course. Darma knew the rules better than anyone. But you know how she’s always denied her magic. Unfortunately that meant she wasn’t properly trained in it. She didn’t mean to heal that child, I’m afraid her compassion got the best of her.”
I was speechless. My sister didn’t have any magic. The whole family had accepted that decades ago. If she had magic now, where had it come from?
Doctor Lee took my silence as anger. Strong emotions could sometimes block a Venusian’s telepathic power and apparently she was unable to read what was in my mind. She looked up with an apology in her eyes. “I treasured your sister, Mx. Phelps. I want you to know that. If I could have stopped what happened I would have done it. I tried. I really did.”
I nodded. “It’s not that. I don’t blame you,” I said and she relaxed slightly. “It’s just...I wasn’t aware that my sister had magic.”
Doctor Lee nodded. “None of us were. Until it started popping out in strange ways a few weeks ago. It started as small things. She would look at her cold coffee and it would suddenly be steaming. Or she’d drop something and it would suddenly be back in her hand. I don’t think she even knew she was doing it at first. But when she realized she became very nervous and irritable.” Doctor Lee looked up at me. “I know you understand her fear of magic.”
I nodded.
Doctor Lee sighed. “She fought it with all her will. I watched her and read it in her thoughts. She was ashamed that she had magic and just wanted it to go away. But instead it grew. No matter how hard she fought it.”
I shook my head, confusion written across my face. “I can’t believe it. Darma with magic. It’s beyond everything I’ve ever known about my sister. I can’t see it.”
“It was too much for her, Mx. Phelps. One day a young girl came into the unit. She was a stage four and had only minutes to live. Darma couldn’t deal with the death of one so young. The girl had been mauled by a demon. Darma healed her with just a thought.”
She stared silently at her hands for a long moment, stifled by the painful memory. When she finally glanced up, her triangular eyes were filled with fear. “Why, Mx. Phelps? Why is the dark world declaring war on us? I’ve never seen so much violent activity. We’ve been working overtime with all of the attacks.”
I frowned. “I don’t know, Doctor Lee but I intend to find out.”
Then she said something I hadn’t considered. “Could the recent uprising and your sister’s found magic be somehow related?”
I jerked, blinking.
“There’s something in the air, Mx. Phelps. My kind is especially sensitive to changes in the layer. I’m feeling a great change coming. Can you feel it?”
Can you feel it?
I blinked again. “I’m starting to, Doctor Lee. I just don’t know what it means yet.”
She nodded and stood, extending her long hand. “I’m glad we got a chance to talk, Mx. Phelps. I admire your sister greatly and miss her presence here. Will y
ou tell her that for me?”
I took her hand. “Thank you for speaking so honestly to me Doctor Lee. I’ll pass your kind words on to Darma. I know she’ll be pleased.”
The woman nodded and I returned to the waiting area, dark thoughts jangling around in my head as I waited to be healed.
Later, as the air booger sped toward home, I peered closely at the sky outside my view ports. It was still that strange purple color and lightning still streaked it at regular intervals. The storm that looked like it was on the horizon hadn’t hit yet. But the air was thick with the sparkling mist. In fact it looked to me as if the mist had thickened even more.
I shivered under a sudden sense of foreboding.
Can you feel it?
“Yes.” I murmured to myself. “I can feel it. The question is, what am I gonna do about it.”
~SC~
I was walking along a high cliff. The sky above me roiled black and dangerous, filled with violent light that speared and cut in all directions. I could hear a wild surf dancing against the sharp, black line of rocks below. I recognized the place. It was the bluff over the Angel City River. But somehow it wasn’t.
I felt a presence in the mist but couldn’t see it. It was an oppressive presence. As I drew closer the air became more heated and thicker, reminding me of the shadows.
My chest constricted at the thought.
When I tried to take deep, calming breaths the mist filled my lungs and made me feel as if I were buried under twenty feet of rock and earth.
Ahead of me the mist became more agitated. A thousand plays of light made it look as if it churned. The sense that I was not alone deepened to the point that my skin prickled with it. I wasn’t surprised when I looked up and saw eyes in the mist.
They were red. And bright. And filled with the immense power of hate.
I stopped and the mist swirled open to almost reveal a shape. It was a tall form and lean. Whatever it was looked like a man but carried itself like a god. The mist hid the details from my straining eyes but my general impression, bolstered I’m sure by the bright, red eyes, was one of evil unmeasured, built on the sands of time.
Astra Q Phelps. Its voice was beautiful as it said my name. I shivered under the smooth beauty of the sound.
I waited.
Astra Q Phelps, I call you to walk beside me.
I tried to shake my head but found I couldn’t move.
Come.
It turned and started walking.
My legs started moving before I could stop them. I was a puppet. Without control. I used every ounce of my strength to fight it. But I was like a fly against a dragon.
We moved along the high cliff, trailing mist in our wake.
Though I walked beside the form, mere inches away from it, I couldn’t see any details. No features showed on the mist-wrapped face, no color, no texture. Nothing.
I am gathering my army. You will serve me well.
The voice was filled with compulsion. It would try to goad me into doing as it requested.
Again I tried to shake my head. Nothing.
I opened my mouth and verbalized my refusal. My voice was swallowed by the mist, unheard.
We emerged from the mist into a barren land. The sky above our heads was red and seemed to glow. The ground beneath our feet was black and dry. Dead. My gaze scanned the distance and everything looked dead.
Heat filled the air. Blistering, overwhelming heat. It shimmered above the ground and beat against my skin. My organs swelled to compensate, making my skin feel tight. Rivers of sweat ran from my body and I thought it was possible I might melt.
We kept walking.
Coming to a pit in the ground we stopped and looked down. The pit was filled with nothing but sound. Horrible sound. The sound of people suffering, screaming, dying.
I looked up and it turned to me, its features still obscured. My servants call to you. They implore your aid.
I opened my mouth again and, finally, my voice emerged, sounding hesitant and small to my ears. “What are you?”
It smiled. The smile emerged from a featureless face, Cheshire Cat-like. I am known by many names. Some call me Son of the Morning. Some know me as the Roaring Lion. I prefer to be called Ruler. I am the One True King.
I stared into the pit and felt my heart throb in terror. Many things to many people and one thing to all. Satan.
He laughed. The sound rich and sensuous against my skin. If you prefer.
I had many questions to ask. But as I lifted my eyes and saw clearly, for the first time, what made the sky red and heat shimmer across the dead land, only one question emerged. “Why have you brought me to this place?”
His gaze raked the horizon, the smile returned as the red eyes settled on the inferno that marked the distance all around us. You are mine, Astra Q Phelps. You have always been mine. I will claim you with my mark and you will join me here. To rule at my side.
I shook my head. “You have no power over me.”
He laughed again. I am the only power. My will is your will, my need is your need. You will fall at my feet and I will shower you with riches.
I laughed and he twitched in apparent surprise, turning a featureless face in my direction. “That’s just stupid.” I said.
He stared hard at me for a beat and then suddenly I was on the ground, engulfed in flames. I screamed, writhing on the ground as agony became my entire world. Flames licked up my body, melting my flesh until I could see bone beneath the flame. My screams joined the screams from the pit and they rose around me, finding joy and energy in my horrendous pain. I threw my head back, feeling death hovering above me, sucking in its foul stench as fire gorged on my flesh.
As I died he stood above me, watching in fascination. Then he smiled and the pain ended. As my eyes closed and my heart stopped beating, that beautiful voice filled my head one last time.
You could have been my finest soldier.
I bolted upright in bed, my hands frantically searching my body for signs of my horrible, fiery death. I sagged in relief as I encountered unblemished flesh. I was breathing as if I’d tried to outrun a laser train and my body was coated in slimy sweat. Dropping back onto my pillow I tried to breathe my way back to calmness. After a few minutes I allowed myself to think about the dream.
It had been too real to have been a true dream. But my mind didn’t want to allow the obvious alternative. The last time I’d had that type of dream it had been prophetic. I wasn’t willing to accept that what I’d just experienced would come true.
I finally pulled myself out of bed and headed for the cleansing tube. Twenty minutes later I was sipping coffee and sifting through videos of air vehicles that were for sale.
The televisual bleeped at me and Darma’s face swam into view. She looked very pale and tears formed trails down her cheeks. I’d never seen her look so scared. “Astra!”
I stood up without even realizing it. “Where are you? Are you okay? I’ll come to you.”
Darma shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I couldn’t help it. I’m damned. Oh god, Astra help me!”
Her image started to waver. I screamed her name but she faded away. I started toward the door before I realized I had no idea where I was going. “Shit!”
So I did the only thing I could think to do. Dialle!
The air around me changed and he was suddenly standing there. He took one look at my face and captured one of my hands between his. “What is wrong? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, impatient. “Call your brother. I need to know where Darma is.”
Dialle reached for me again. “They are in the park. I’ll take you there.”
We shimmered into the play area of the park. It was deserted except for the nearly disintegrated body of something that looked demonic on the ground and a small knot of people who were huddled together around a small child a few yards from the exploded corpse. They kept glancing toward something in the distance and I followed their speculative gaze toward my sister,
who was draped over Torre on a nearby park bench, sobbing hysterically.
Dialle and I stepped carefully around the nasty remains and headed for the bench. Torre looked up as we approached, his handsome, almost pretty face was filled with obvious discomfort at dealing with a hysterical female. He slid a look at his brother that spoke volumes.
We stopped in front of them. “Is she hurt?” I asked.
Torre shook his head, silky black hair swinging around his shoulders. “She has not been physically harmed. But her emotions are shattered.” He jerked his head toward the mess on the ground a few feet away. “She vanquished that to save the life of a human child.” He stopped speaking and shrugged as Darma’s sobs gained new intensity.
“Darma?”
She acted as if she hadn’t heard me.
“Darma!” The sobbing stopped and she looked up. Her pale face was splotchy and wet, her eyes red-rimmed with purple half-moons under them. She was still beautiful. “You did what needed to be done. Now stiffen your spine. We need to talk.”
I knew from long years of dealing with my sister that she didn’t want pity or empathy. She responded well to stern instruction. Sitting up and running her sleeve over her cheeks to dry them, she sniffled one last time and nodded at Torre.
He stood, rather enthusiastically I thought, and walked away with his brother. A few jolts of power from the two of them were all it took to clean up what was left of the demon.
Most of the humans had left. Only a woman and a small boy remained. As soon as the woman saw Dialle and Torre walk away she approached us, holding tightly to the little boy’s hand. She said nothing at first, only dropping to her knees in front of Darma.
For a brief moment I thought Darma was gonna scramble backward off the bench, her face was filled with such horror, but she managed to hold it together as the woman grabbed her hand and kissed it, “God bless you, young lady. Thank you for saving my son. I’m sorry it has caused you such pain.”
Fresh tears flowed down Darma’s cheeks but she held herself together and straightened her spine, looking for all the world like a queen on her throne. She covered the woman’s hand with her own and squeezed. “I’m glad he’s safe. I would do it again for the same result.”