by Cameron Hale
She awoke with a start, barely catching a fluttering motion from the corner of her eye. For a moment, the room seemed to waver. She blinked against a momentary disorientation and slowly sat up. Glancing at the bedside clock, she was stunned to find that two hours had elapsed. The kittens, long exhausted from their play, lay curled asleep on her pillow.
Next time leave the wine with dinner, she thought.
An intense thirst seized her. Rising groggily from the bed, she noticed the wet stain on the cover. Her fingers confirmed the stickiness between her legs, ushering snippets of the curious dream that left her with a residual sense of unease. She glanced around the room as though expecting answers. Everything looked the same, but somehow, something was different, altered in a way she could not explain.
She shivered. Feeling the chill of the rising breeze against her naked flesh, she moved to shut the French doors when the unusual angle of the telescope caught her attention. She looked at it curiously, certain she had left it facing downward toward the pool rather than oceanward. Gazing through the lens, she saw nothing beyond the molten shimmer of the moonkissed ocean and the flickering lights of a passing cruise ship.
Intrigued, she steadily panned the scope back and forth across the water. Suddenly, a vague shape loomed in the horizon. She focused and found herself staring at what appeared to be a land mass. Nonplused, she blinked and rubbed her eyes.
I really must be exhausted, she thought. There can’t be anything out there.
Yet when she looked through the lens again, she could clearly distinguish the slope of gentle hills and the undulating curve of the coastline. Confused, she stepped back and shook her head. This can’t be—there are no islands off the peninsula.
She retreated to the bedroom and retrieved a wine cooler from the wet bar fridge. Gulping down a few mouthfuls, she slipped into a kimono robe draped over the back of the dressing table chair and returned to the balcony to find only clear, limpid ocean. Battling her hesitation, she gazed through the lens. The island sprang out with vivid clarity. She stared forlornly at the expensive piece of equipment.
“Damned thing must need adjusting,” she muttered in exasperation. “Something's got to be wrong with it.”
Determinedly, she peered through the lens until her neck ached, sitting down to rest her eyes only when her vision started blurring. Nestled in the comfortable wicker chair, she felt her eyes grow heavy and momentarily closed them—
—and found herself adrift in the ocean of light once again. Hands, and something else, something soft and velvety, gripped the folds of her kimono and slipped the gown off. Immobilized by a drowsy languor, she felt her body gently pushed back into the chair and her limbs rose until she floated, completely exposed to the cool kiss of the breeze. It nipped playfully at her skin at first, then transformed into the firmer pressure of long, smooth strokes. Somewhere beyond consciousness, in a place that retreated like a shimmering mirage, she glimpsed fluttering shapes vaguely resembling butterflies. Her hair haloed from the delicate movement as she was lifted further and further upward until the light became a moon so huge she could distinguish every detail on the ancient, pockmarked surface.
Gossamer wings as delicate as a cobweb embraced her. The long, smooth strokes drifted in between her legs and speared her with tingling heat. She gasped and cried out as the sensation melted through her, prickling her flesh like minuscule electrical currents. Her body responded beyond the barriers of mere physical joining. Merging into the soul of the entity that enveloped her, she heard a whisper in her mind, a whisper that could have been her name, or the echo of something far more ancient…
* * *
The approaching dawn airbrushed the sky with pastel shades of salmon and gold as she awoke in the wicker chair. Her gaze fell immediately to the telescope pointed directly at her. Still feeling the residual emotion from what she now understood was no dream, she was not surprised to find it facing away from where she had left it the previous night. She slipped into her kimono and rose, pausing the stretch her cramped limbs. The kittens scampered onto the balcony and stopped their horseplay long enough to meow their demand for breakfast.
“Okay, okay,” she said with a smile. “I heard you the first time.” She moved to follow them, then stopped. On impulse, she reached for the telescope, turned it around and looked through the lens. The island rose above the panoramic vista of the glistening sea. She sighed and glanced up, her gaze following the motion of a solitary sailboat. “I know you’re out there,” she murmured. “I know you’re there…”
* * *
The wall valet rang while Corinne applied the finishing touches to her make-up. “Answer,” she said, intently staring at her softly illuminated reflection in the dressing table mirror. “Vocal only.”
“Bad night, Corrie?”
She chuckled. “No, Daniel, just not decent yet.”
“I could dispute that.”
“Not according to what I see at the moment. I think I’m due for another rejuv session soon.”
“Do you want me to reschedule some of these guest appearances?”
She froze as she noticed the reflection of the telescope over her shoulder. The lens was pointed directly into the bedroom. Slowly, she rose and approached the French doors.
“Corrie? Are you there? Look, if you want me to reschedule, let me know. You know what it’s like to get Midnite Revu even on the line…”
Sidestepping the telescope, she shaded her eyes and stared at the ocean. There was no question in her mind that the telescope had been pointed oceanward. Suppressing a shudder, she turned to the lens and looked through. The magnified view of the bedroom frightened her, as though each detail of her life, her movements, had been under scrutiny.
“As if what I was looking at was looking in,” she whispered.
Grabbing the telescope securely at the base, she dragged it closer to the balcony and faced the scope seaward.
“Corrie? Hello? Are you there?”
Daniel’s aggravated voice rose from the valet. She quickly stepped inside.
“Daniel? I'm so sorry. I thought someone was at the door. Yes, go ahead and reschedule those appearances. I think I need to slow down a little, been having some trouble sleeping. In fact, I think I’ll give the studio a miss today. Can you let them know?”
A brief silence followed.
“Look, Corrie, is something wrong? This doesn’t sound like you. I wish you’d activate the video. Do you want me to come over?”
She heard only the drone of his voice, her gaze once more snared by the telescope that faced into the bedroom.
“End call,” she murmured, silencing Daniel in mid-sentence. She rushed to the balcony and peered into the telescope. “I know you’re here, somewhere, looking at me at this very moment. So tell me what you want. What are you…?”
Corinne…
The whisper of her name shivered through her like a dribble of ice water. She bolted upright and glanced around. Though the sea and sky looked the same, the quality of light reflecting off the water seemed to glow rather than sparkle. Around her, an unnatural silence fell, as though the world was holding its breath. Something silken pressed against her cheek and slowly trailed down to the exposed base of her throat.
“No,” she murmured, feeling a familiar flush suffuse her body “No more. Why are you doing this to me?”
Weakly, she stumbled back into bedroom. But it was already too late as she felt her resistance fade away much like the robe she slipped off and dropped to the floor. With leaden limbs she tumbled onto the bed into the shimmering fold of diaphanous wings. Tightly clasped together, they rose and merged into the light, the delicious friction against her flesh inducing in her an almost delirious state.
Open yourself to us, Corinne. Through you, we will become one.
She heard the sinuous whisper in her mind and all around her, but could not focus beyond the waves of pleasure radiating throughout her flesh. Penetrated by that which she could scarcely imagi
ne, the words locked within her throat would come only through her thoughts. She flailed like a drowning swimmer.
What—why me?
You are the only one who has seen—you must be the conduit. But fear not, for our union will be wondrous and will reveal the secret of the stars themselves…
* * *
Somewhere in between, night had fallen. Awakening to the soft evening lights of the house and the inquisitive noses of the hungry kittens, Corinne stared dumbly at the clock flashing admonishingly from the wall. Next to it, the wall valet displayed an angry red numeral—eight missed calls, seven from Daniel. She moaned and rolled over, relentlessly pursued by the kittens. Brushing them away, she felt the dampness of the silk cover and rose to find the outline of her body imprinted in the soiled fabric.
She grabbed the cover in disgust and yanked it off. “Jesus, what’s happening to me?” she said, tossing it to the floor. The reflection that greeted her in the mirrored wardrobe doors was no less assuring, her smeared makeup and mussed hair attesting beyond the effects of a wild night of partying. Yet below the superficial elements, something else stood out, a difference to her body that she could not quite place.
Approaching the mirrors, she pressed her hands to the cold smoothness. Eyeing herself critically, it was only after several moments that she noticed the faintest glow emanating from her flesh, a subtle translucence almost invisible to the naked eye. She dropped her hands to her breasts and felt the warmth radiating from them. The nipples hardened almost painfully beneath her touch. Moving her hands further down her body, they explored the golden triangle between her legs. Her wet, swollen cunt lips were tender, the heat tangible. Further back by her anus, which dilated willingly at her touch, a honey-like stickiness mired her finger.
What have they done to me? she wondered. They’ve been inside me, doing things to me…
A slight creaking drew her attention outside. From beyond the open French doors, the telescope spun around in a slow circle. She ran toward it. As soon as she got near enough to touch it, it stopped dead still, pointing toward the ocean. Shuddering against an eerie sense of inevitability, she peered through the lens and let out a small cry. The island rose majestically from the sea, glittering with countless cobweb patterned lights. Delicate, harp-shaped vehicles rose and descended into water alit with a shimmering faerie glow.
She bolted up from the telescope and saw only the shimmering emptiness of the ocean scattered by the lonely lights of a passing cargo ship. Looking through the lens once again, the island pulsed like a living organism.
“Jesus, either I’m hallucinating, or they’ve been messing with my mind. There can't be an island out there!”
The wall valet rang in urgent mode, the trill loud and jarring. She sprinted toward it, knocking over a standing vase of silk flowers in the process. The kittens stirred sleepily from the bed at the intrusion and regarded her with half-closed eyes.
“Answer!” she cried. “Vocal only.”
“Hello? Corrie? Jesus Christ, I’ve been calling all day. Have you picked up any of my messages? If you hadn’t answered just now, I was going to call the police. What’s up with you?”
“God, Daniel, I’m so glad you called.”
He paused, clearly nonplused. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. You haven't been the easiest person to reach lately. So how about coming out from behind the smokescreen?”
She fumbled to slip on the rumpled kimono and halfheartedly smoothed her hair. “Video on,” she said, stepping out of view.
Daniel’s face filled the screen. For a moment, she was lost in the beauty of his wistful green eyes as they searched for her. A thick mass of wavy mahogany hair brushed his shoulders, his delectably shaped lips pursed in consternation.
“Dammit, Corrie, quit playing games. Come out where I can see you.”
Hesitantly, she stepped before the valet. Daniel’s expression transformed into one of shock. “My God, what the hell’s happened to you? You look like you’re on a downer. You haven’t been dipping into…”
She saw the concern in his eyes and felt a stab of poignancy. “No!” she cried, extending her hands placatingly. “Honest to God, Daniel, it’s not what you think.” She paused, overcome by a sudden wave of emotion. “No—it’s nothing at all what you think, or can even imagine. I—I’m not even sure myself what it is.”
Daniel frowned. “You’re scaring me, Corrie. Your tone of voice doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. I know we’ve all been under stress lately trying to finish the C-vid, but…”
She rushed to the screen, her hands caressing his image. Daniel’s eyes widened.
“Please, Daniel, can you come over? Now? I’m scared. I’m scared shitless. Something’s happening, and I don’t know what it is.”
* * *
Downstairs in the atrium, Corinne paced in the dark, her senses keenly aware of the passing minutes. Pearly moonlight beamed through the skylights, casting an unearthly sheen to the house. The reassuring sound of the gurgling fountain did little to ease her anxiety, her glance constantly darting to the stairs where at any moment she expected to see something appear from the bedroom. She had almost been surprised that she was able to leave the room, and that the telescope had not found a way to materialize behind her. Though she felt better after showering and putting on jeans and a t-shirt, she still felt their residue on her body.
Hearing the whine of Daniel's sports car pull up in the driveway, she dashed outside and sprinted toward the open driver’s window.
“Daniel, I’m so glad you came!”
He returned her stare with a look of concerned astonishment.
A gently perfumed breeze rustled his hair. Corinne was suddenly seized by the impulse to run her hands through its luxuriant thickness. In the moonlight, his eyes glowed like a prowling feline. Dressed in black, his face unshaven, he resembled a darkly seductive character from vampire lore. She found herself subtly sniffing his scent, a musky male aroma that elicited a sudden and fierce arousal in her.
“My God, Corrie,” he said, opening the door. “You look like one of the undead. What's going on?”
Inadvertently smiling at his reference, she pulled him out of the car and hastily led him into the dark house.
He gripped her arm. “Hey, slow down. What’s wrong with the autolighting?”
“I've got to show you something first,” she said, dragging him upstairs.
He stifled his protest and followed her. “So, it's my lucky night at last,” he said, eyeing the bedroom lit only by softly flickering candles.
She ignored him and pushed him onto the balcony. “Look through the telescope and tell me what you see.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Please.”
Casting her a bemused look, he bent and looked through the lens. A gentle breeze brushed a stray lock of hair across his forehead. Corinne reached to flick it away, her fingers lingering on his tawny skin.
“It’s really beautiful under the moonlight, isn't it?”
She clapped her hands. “Then you do see it!”
“See what?”
“The island, of course!”
He rose and looked at her with a somber expression. “Corrie, all I see is a romantic, moonlit ocean. What else am I supposed to see out there?”
Her mouth opened and shut. She studied his face and ran a finger across his lips. “You're lying,” she said, impatiently pushing him aside and looking into the telescope.
The island sprang to radiant life. Gossamer craft swarmed across the island like swarms of iridescent insects, the shoreline alive with mysterious activity. Chains of phosphorescence snaked across the hills.
“There! Look now. You can see craft flying across the land.”
Resignedly, Daniel looked again and saw only the limpid ocean and the winking lights of passing ships. He said nothing as he rose from the lens, his dismay apparent.
“You really don't see anything,” she said flatly. “Admit it. You think I've lost it. Or
you think I’ve been popping again.”
“Corrie, just stop for a minute and think. You’ve lived here for six years. I grew up in the area. We both know that there are no islands within two hundred miles of here. What the hell do you want me to say?”
She stalked off to the wet bar and retrieved a wine cooler. From the balcony, Daniel watched her gulp the drink down as though it were water.
“It started last night,” she said, watching his reflection in the mirrored tiles. “I noticed the telescope was pointing away from where I'd left it. I looked through and saw the island. It was dark and deserted at first. Now it's full of lights and flying craft, but they're not planes. They're something I've never seen before.”
She turned and looked at him. “There's something going on out there. You can either believe me or not, but I know what I saw.”
“Then why can't I see the island?” he asked.
She remembered the sibilant voice caressing her mind. “I don’t know. It seems for now, anyway, only I can see it.”
“They? Are you telling me they’ve spoken to you?”
She paused to stare at him. The words sounded incredible to her even as he spoke them.
He shook his head and went to retrieve a wine cooler. Noticing the bettas congregating at the top of the tank, he sprinkled some food into the water. He watched them thoughtfully as he sipped his drink.
“You're saying an island has emerged from the ocean in the last twenty four hours?” he said without looking at her. “Look, Corrie, you know I have an open mind. If you'd said you spotted UFOs or were having psychic visions, I could accept that. But the appearance of some mysterious island? And you as some kind of emissary? What's it supposed to mean?”
Drawn by his aroma, Corinne approached. Her eyes fixed on the prominent biceps beneath his tight t-shirt. She fought a sudden urge to touch him. “Does everything need an obvious explanation, Daniel? I'm sure a lot of people scoffed at the idea of germs and viruses. They can't be seen without a microscope, but they exist. Why should this be any different? Science can’t explain everything, so their typical response is dismissive when faced with the unknown.”