Flight of the Gryphon

by Ann Durand

  "The table?" Mikolen interrupted.

  "Oh, right away…Dr. Leno, isn't it? We have the perfect spot for you." His eyes flitted to Katera. With a flourishing twist of his wrist, he indicated a side aisle. "Right this way, please." As they fell in step behind him, he flipped his head back at Mikolen and said in a conspiratorial tone, "You're going to love your table. It has the best view of the garden."

  Mikolen nodded as the maitre d' led them briskly past other tables and patrons toward a glass-encased room at the far end. It showcased a 180-degree view of the garden. As they entered, it felt as if they'd crossed a threshold into a jungle, thick with trees and ferns. He offered a table with high partitions "so they might enjoy their privacy". Katera slipped into the form-fitting seat across from Mikolen. After pointing to the menu icons, the maitre d' instructed them to order at their leisure. He bowed again, gave an extra nod to Katera, and left. Mikolen leaned forward on the table and searched Katera's eyes with his own.

  "Katera," he said, softly. "I know you've stopped asking, but…you know, I still wish I could take you home…"

  "I know, Mikolen," Katera interrupted. "I know you would if you could, and I'm sorry I haven't been much company for you lately."

  He waved his hand. "I'm not worried about that. It's you I'm worried about. You put on a brave front, but I know you're unhappy."

  He knows. Katera bit her lip. "I just need time."

  "And you have it, but sometimes I think it's getting worse. Do you think we're taking this in the right direction?" He reached over and picked up her hands. "Do you think it might help to stop stargazing until 3:00 in the morning? Is this making it any easier for you? Because I promise you, the moon doesn't care. It's still going to rise and fall without your eyes pinned on it."

  Katera pulled her hands from his. "On her , Mikolen, not it. And my religion happens to be up there in the starry heavens. I find my peace when I talk to Lupana."

  "Do you?" he asked. "Because it sure is hard to tell from watching you. By morning, you usually look pretty lost."

  Katera lowered her head. He was right, of course, but it was so hard to stop. Praying to Lupana provided her with a potent connection to Parallon-the last one she had. When she prayed to the moon in whatever form-full, crescent, or slivered-she knew who she was. When she gazed at the home of the goddess, she could remember the important things, the values she'd grown up with. True, it also beckoned eruptions of sorrow...

  "I-I can't stop. I need Lupana. She guides me in this world. I must pray to her."

  Mike sighed. "Katera, you've been around the moon in an AeroCar. Does it really look to you like an immortal goddess lives there?'

  Katera looked at him sharply. "Lupana's spirit is felt, not seen." Her chin lifted. "Lupana is there."

  "Okay. Okay." He lifted both hands in supplication. "But have you asked her to help you live happily in this world?"

  Yes , Katera thought, a lump rising to her throat. If you only knew .

  "I need time," she repeated.

  Mikolen nodded, but looked unconvinced, his thick brow knitted over his light blue eyes. He reached again for her hands, but she moved them under the table. He sighed.

  "You miss your family, I know. And I can't bring you to them or them to you, but you and I…we can make our own family together. You can have a family; it'll just be a new one."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean," Mikolen leaned forward, stretching his arms across the table, "let's get married. I know you wanted to wait until you felt competent in this world. Well, you are. You're highly competent. You have mastered more in seven months than anyone would have thought possible. And you can continue to learn things for the rest of your life. In the meantime, let's have children and begin our lives…together." He cocked his head and looked at her, a pleading look in his eyes. "C'mon."

  The invitation to surrender was clear. She placed her hands on the tabletop, and felt thankful that he did not reach for them again.

  "It's just that I'm not ready. I still don't…I mean, it's not your fault, but I don't feel like I belong here. You've been wonderful-that's not the problem-it's just…not my world. And how can I possibly get married and have children in a place where I don't belong?"

  "You belong, Katera. Ask anyone."

  "Belonging goes both ways. Everyone has been so kind, and I'm grateful for that, but I still don't feel right here. It's not my home."

  Mikolen dropped his head to the side, looking pained. When he looked back at her, his eyes looked glazed over and his smile forced.

  "Take all the time you need," he said.

  "Mikolen, please…"

  She wanted to ask for his patience, ask him to wait until she felt more comfortable, more confident, but he'd already risen and was making his way past the tables toward the exit. She grabbed her wrap and pocketbook, and scurried after him.

  * **

  Seated alone on the other side of the high partition, Felipa Kurtz, deep in thought, turned around to finish her abalone. She'd heard enough. Mike Leno's lady, Katera from Parallon, wanted to go home. It gave Felipa an idea…an absolutely marvelous idea.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mike guided his Lynx, a sleek-looking LandCar, through the Identi-Gate as it opened for him. Good, he thought. Felipa had programmed the gate to recognize his car-so much easier than fumbling with those damn Permit-to-Pass request icons. As he pulled up in front of her stylish and rambling home overlooking the Pacific Ocean, he realized it had been ten years since he'd been up here, though Felipa would remember seeing him one year ago at her dinner table with Greg. Mike had wanted to come up and offer his condolences after Felipa had learned about Greg's death, but she'd said she wasn't taking visitors. He'd sent flowers, notes, and for weeks…nothing. Until last night-suddenly this phone call.

  "Come see me, Mike," she said, cheerily. "It's been a while." He asked her if she was okay. "Fine, fine," and "Sorry I haven't called you sooner."

  Very curious, but why argue with a good thing? It was great to hear the melancholy tone absent from her voice-maybe she was finally on the mend.

  He turned his Lynx into a guest slot at the end of her driveway and hopped out. Before he reached the front door, it retracted into the surrounding wall. Clearly, she was waiting for him.

  He stepped into the foyer, and as he had on past visits, admired the golden aura emanating from the walls of the room. Greg had installed Sunner Beams inside them, creating a warm, golden glow that reached several feet into the room from each wall. Felipa had furnished two corners with SunLit Objects d' Art, an art form that allowed the artist to fashion invisible, curving boundaries revealed only by interior illumination. Balls of light traveled the width and breadth of the structure, lighting different sections in isolation of the others. The result was an eerie impression of twisting, changing abstract forms of luminosity. The objects played off the walls, ingesting their aura and growing brighter, while at other times the light leaked out and entered the walls. It was a cyclical glowing and dimming process and an endless source of fascination for him.

  He was studying a path of light as it curled upward to the ceiling, when he felt a presence behind him. He turned. Felipa looked elegant in a tunic style top covered with glittery Scaleys, a product created to resemble the sparkling flanks of the popular Rainbow fish. Her hair appeared thin, but clean; her eyes watery, but interested. She'd lost some weight.

  "Hey, Felipa." He held his arms open, and she walked into them, allowing Mike to give her a bear hug. "So good to see you."

  "Good to see you, too, Mike." She stepped away, smiling. "And thanks so much for coming. I'm sorry not to invite Katera, but I have some important things that I want to discuss with you, and she shouldn't hear about it until everything's settled."

  "Until everything's settled? Sounds like you've already made up your mind. Are you taking input or is the plan already hatched?"

  "Don't worry. Nothing will be decided without you, since you'd be the
major player…if you decide to do it." Her smile disappeared, which made her look much older than her thirty-six years.

  "Sounds serious."

  A twinge wrested his gut. Something didn't feel right. He looked at her curiously, but she had turned, motioning for him to follow.

  "C'mon. Let's go to the south wing where we can talk."

  She led him through the house, past the living room where a servant stood on tip-toe polishing a spherical lanadik, past the great room boasting an illusion of forty-foot high walls and a revolving star-studded ceiling, past the kitchen where a cook was dropping something into a self-regulated cooking pot, past the reading room filled with SleepLift suspension couches and chairs, through the outdoor atrium where Blue Crown conures, lories, and macaws squawked inside invisible-walled aviaries, and into the opposite wing of the house. Down another hallway, and she turned into the conference room, the one Greg had built to conduct meetings with other scientists. She closed the door, and motioned Mike to sit down at the long table. He slipped into the SuspensionChair behind it and waited for Felipa as she instructed the servants, via the HouseSpeaker on the wall, not to disturb them. As she sat down across from him, he noticed for the first time that she looked pale, almost ashen. Was she frightened? She folded her hands on the tabletop and leaned forward.

  "Mike, I have good news and bad news."

  "Okaaay." He braced himself. "Gimme the bad first. Then maybe the good news will seem even better."

  She smiled. "As you wish. Actually, it will make more sense this way-telling the bad news first." She sighed deeply, summoning her courage. "I haven't got much time."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean I'm dying. I've been diagnosed with late stage cancer. It's all over my body…a very aggressive form. There's too much damage for tissue restoration to do its magic. No amount of Serulin will help me now."

  Mike was stunned. Nobody died from cancer anymore unless it had progressed to the final stage, which it rarely did. How did she let it get this far? Diagnostic medical equipment allowed instantaneous assessments of all body systems. Had she not been to a clinic?

  "Felipa, no. My God. How?"

  "I ignored the signs. I felt terrible after Greg's death. I thought my symptoms were a result of my grief, that's all. By the time I went to the health clinic, it was too late. I walked into the assessment chamber, and the cancer icons began blinking all over the body map like city lights from the air. It's in my organs, my bones."

  "Felipa…Oh, I'm so sorry."

  She reached over the table and laid a hand on his arm. "You know, in a funny way, it's all right. Greg was the love of my life, and now very soon, I'm going to be with him again. I don't mean to sound morbid, but I can't help it. I'm not unhappy about this."

  Mike found no reason to celebrate and didn't want to encourage it. "You know, there are a lot of people that care about you, Felipa. Greg wasn't the only one. People are going to miss you. I know you don't have living relatives, but you have lots of friends. Did you think about how everyone is going to take this news?"

  "Yes, and I'm sorry. I love my friends, and that includes you, but this is how I feel."

  Mike drew in a long breath. "How long?"

  "Not long, maybe three…four weeks. Anyway, that's the bad news."

  Mike shook his head. "Your bad news has to dwarf any good news you could offer."

  "Actually, the good news is pretty big, too."

  In spite of himself, Mike cocked an ear. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."

  Felipa drew in a deep breath. "As you are aware, I am a very rich woman. I am the sole owner of Kurtz's Quantum Energy Sources. I have no use for money, and I have no heirs. I want to do something good with it before I die."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "It'll take most of it to do what I want, but there's enough."

  "Enough for what?"

  Felipa leaned back. "Enough to build another stargate. A stargate to take you and Katera back to Parallon…where Greg is buried. I want you to build it."

  Mike straightened his spine and shifted in his seat. "Go on."

  "Not only do I have the funds, but only KQES makes the EM Sphere, as you know."

  Mike brought the fingertips of each hand together and leaned forward, thinking hard. This could work. KQES not only created the specialized EM Sphere needed to power a stargate, but offered an army of technicians to aid in the construction of a stargate. Mike felt as focused as a laser beam. This could be the answer-for Katera…for him.

  "Felipa, are you sure? I mean, there are many, many charities that can benefit…"

  "I'm sure," she said, sternly enough to silence him. "I've thought about this thoroughly, and this is what I want to do."

  A question lingered, and he knew he had to ask it. "Why? Why do you want to do this? What makes sending Katera and me back into the past so important?"

  A shrewd look settled on her features, and Mike knew there was more. "I want to go with you. I want to find Greg's grave. I want to mourn him at his grave. You do know where his remains are, don't you?"

  Mike nodded. "Yes, but it was a mass burial. There are no markers. Could you handle that?"

  "Yes, and it gives me all the more reason to go with you. I must perform the proper ministrations to bless the site."

  "I can do that for you. You may not want to travel to the past. Katera's world is rough, violent compared to ours. You may find it very uncomfortable, especially in your condition. If you'll allow me, I promise to administer all the appropriate blessings."

  "Thanks," she interrupted, "but I need to be there. I need to be near him when I die; near his remains, and…and I want to be buried with him. I want to lie next to him forever. You'll do that for me, won't you, Mike? Let me go with you…bury me?"

  So, that was it. The bottom line: she wants to be where Greg is even if he's dead. Not surprising. Felipa had lived her life for Greg, revolving around him and his activities like a satellite, tending to his every need. Obviously, the bulk of Felipa's routines had ground to a screeching halt with Greg's death.

  "Mike?" Felipa was staring at him, hard. "I haven't got much time. You need to build this now. I will place every technician at KQES at your disposal. With their help you should be able to complete it in two to three weeks."

  Mike met her determined gaze. "Felipa…"

  "This is a dying woman's wish. I want you to build it, and I want to go with you."

  Mike bowed his head. What could he hope to accomplish by talking her out of this? She only had a month to live, maybe less. What possible satisfaction would she gain by staying behind? She had her passion, her remaining strength, invested in this project-that was plain to see.

  "And if I happen to die before you finish, I still want you to complete the stargate. And then, I want you to take my body back to…"

  "Felipa!"

  "Take it back. Take it back, and bury it with Greg's. This is my wish, Mike." She leaned back in her chair breathless, as if the excitement had taxed her last ounce of energy. When she spoke again, her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Will you do it? Will you build another stargate and let me come with you?"

  Mike gave her a long look. "Yes," he said. "Yes and yes."

  A light flickered into her eyes and she smiled, but in the next moment, the look of infinite weariness returned.

  "Good," she said, leaning back. "Then you may begin tomorrow. The technicians will be waiting for you."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The sun dipped below the Pacific in a burning sky that glazed the surface of the watery horizon in an array of burnt oranges. Mike entered the house and paused in the living room after spying Katera, who was sitting outside in the atrium. She sat with her back to him, her face strained toward the heavens. He strolled to the door and followed her gaze up, though he knew the object of her attention. A full moon was making an early appearance and lay pasted like a white wafer on the darkening sky. If he'd had an EnergyCam, the viewer that recorde
d invisible forms of energy, he'd probably spot a tether or some ethereal umbilical cord leading from the moon all the way south to her navel.

  She must have felt him standing there, because she tore her face from the orb in the sky and turned around.

  "Mikolen!"

  She hopped up as Mike stepped outside. He knew she was anxious to hear the news. She'd begged to go to Felipa's with him, but Mike had been firm. Felipa said come alone. Yes, he'd confessed to Katera, it concerned her, but Felipa wanted Mike to hear it first and approve the plan. Katera had made him promise to tell all as soon as he returned. He made a deliberately sour face, gathering his lips in a pout. Let's not make this too easy , he thought. Katera looked stunned.

  "What happened?" she asked. "I thought this was supposed to be good news." Mike worked at his mouth, straining to keep the corners down. Katera yelped. " Ya takano !" she swore, with a laugh "You're teasing me. You'd better tell me some good news, takano, before I knock your head off."

  Mikolen's scowl evaporated into a smile, and he caught her rising wrists. "Just wanted to give this news the proper build up; make sure it has the right impact."

  "What news? What impact? Tell me." She laughed, wrenching her hands free to pound his chest with both fists. "Tell me, or I'll turn you into Miss Meat."

  "Miss Meat?" Mike laughed. "Oh, you mean mincemeat, goofball. Ow!" Mikolen threw his head back as she pummeled him, grimacing in defeat. "All right. Anything you say." He grabbed her wrists again, pulled them to her sides. "Stay," he instructed, pointing a finger at them.

  "They do not obey those who hesitate," she said, lifting a fist in front of him. "Give it up."

  He raised both hands in surrender. "Please, don't hurt me. You're going home, that's what. Put those ferocious dukes down."

  Katera froze as the smile dropped off her face. "That's not funny, Mikolen."

  Mike straightened and dropped his hands. "I wouldn't kid you about something like this. You're going home."

  Katera's eyes popped open. Her mouth flapped several times, but no sound came out.