“I shall make them a gift of my gratitude for their sacrifice,” Tolum answered.
The imager field went incandescent, the League ship died, and a grim silence seized the bridge—settling in for an extended stay.
TWENTY-FOUR
There was no transition from sleep. Max’s mind vaulted from oblivion into self-awareness without warning. She felt strangely well. After all she’d been through, it didn’t seem right. She stretched languidly, enjoying the sensation of being thoroughly alive—because that almost didn’t happen. Death had come close. So very close. She shook her head so that her tawny hair fell back from her face. The clock on the nightstand told her she’d slept through most of the morning.
Good morning, Max! The thought bloomed within her mind on a channel that was stronger than those connecting her to the rest of the Light Born; none of whom seemed to be near at the moment.
Max answered, “Mornin’ Twila.”
Someone knocked on her door. She stared. Her necklace blazed. The door brightened, growing translucent, ghostly, as her eyes processed wavelengths of energy beyond the visible spectrum. She saw her brother’s silhouette on the other side as he slouched against the frame.
“Yeah?” she called.
“It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“Just a minute.” She crawled out of bed. The necklace she wore was in her private dimension, available yet unseen. Max went to her vanity and retrieved her bathrobe from the back of the chair. She slipped it on and tied the belt. “You can come in now.”
The door opened and Tommy came in. He closed the door behind him, crossed the room and dropped his butt heavily onto the edge of her bed. He bounced a moment. The mattress springs complained.
Max turned the chair around and sat down facing him.
His hair wasn’t brushed. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a long while. She was sure he was wearing the same clothes as the day before, an old powder-blue sweat suit. The shirt had a laid-back hood. The drawstrings that emerged at the front of the neck were taunt, each one looped at the end around a finger. He tugged at the strings absently, his mind clearly on something else.
“I need a favor” he said.
“Sure.” Normally she would have given him crap, making him work for her agreement, but he looked uncommonly pathetic. She didn’t have the heart.
He looked up, catching her gaze. “Aren’t you going to ask me what it is first? I thought I taught you better than that.”
“You’re my big brother. You aren’t going to take advantage over anything really important. What do you want?”
“I need to talk to Twila, privately.”
“We’re private. Her awareness is merged with mine. You can say what you want. She’ll answer and I can tell you what she says.”
“I was hoping something a little more direct might be possible. Can you take yourself out of the loop, just for a few minutes?”
It was a novel thought she hadn’t considered before. “I don’t know if it’s possible.”
His fingertips were red; the strings around his fingers were tight, cutting off circulation. “You’ve done a lot of impossible things lately. I just thought…maybe…” He went silent a moment, then said, “Please, I really need this. Twila and I, we started to connect. But things are in limbo now, and so is she. I can’t go on this way. I have to know there’s hope left, somewhere, somehow.”
The naked pain in his eyes convinced her to try.
Twila, how do we do this? Max asked.
I don’t know. You should ask that other aspect of yourself.
Of course! She concentrated, staring through Tommy. A syrupy green light broke around her that only she could see. Her room and Tommy faded out as Max crossed over to her personal dimension. Here, Twila had something close to physical form. Max hugged her, then hand in hand, they went in search of the other presence that haunted this place—the spirit of all the dead Guardians.
She appeared, wearing robes of gold shadowed with copper green, wearing Max’s face. “Your need has drawn me, Max. What can I do for you?”
“Is there a way you can hold my awareness here and send Twila back in my body, in my place for just a while?”
“This is something you need?”
Max stared off to the side, into Twila’s dark eyes, then back at the specter. “It’s something we both must do.”
The spirit opened her arms. Her eyes ignited, burning a brilliant gold. “Come to me, Max.”
She dropped Twila’s hand and walked into the spirit’s embrace. It was like stepping into a pocket dimension within a pocket dimension. A hard current whirled her into the new depths of a golden sea. She saw countless white-gold masks with emerald eyes. They stared at her, forming a vortex around her as she hurtled headlong into the unknown. Despite the number of masks, they spoke to her in a single voice.
We greet you sister.
Where am I, she asked.
This is where you will abide once the Star passes from you to another, at your death.
A preview huh? Wild.
You will abide here with us until the task is done which you have set your friend.
So what do you guys do around here for fun? Max asked.
We think deep thoughts. We envision the patterns of universes yet unborn. We are they who have shaped realities now lost in the collapsed weave of past universal ages.
Max sighed. Thinking. Boring. It figures. I was kinda hoping for a cloud, halo, and a harp.
Twila watched Max vanish, stepping into her gold-robed counterpart. A moment later, a wall of light slammed the mechamorph away. She screamed as her senses failed. Then the gold light winked out along with the pocket dimension. Max’s room lay around her. Twila occupied a chair, facing the bed, confronting Tommy.
He looked at her with an expression of expectation. He didn’t seem to know she’d taken over Max’s body.
“Tommy, it’s me, Twila. You have what you asked for. We are alone. The psychic channel to the Light Born is down as well.”
“Max is…?”
“Gone, for now, but she’ll be back.” Twila rose to her feet and swayed. Standing in real gravity took a moment’s readjustment. What was more difficult was dealing with an organic nature that was physically unresponsive to manipulation. She felt confined, limited, and caged. Clarity of thought was difficult. As she stared at Tommy, it seemed like her stomach was flipping. Her hands trembled. Her heart began to race.
What is this?
Tommy leaped to his feet and crossed the room in a rush. His hands steadying her, gripping her arms. He stared into her face, his eyes so very close, anxious, and earnest. It made her heart pound even harder. He pulled her closer, into an embrace. Twila felt the heat of his body soaking into her frontal bumps. Then he drew back.
She closed her eyes and puckered her lips as human sometimes do, deducing that a kiss was on the way. Nothing. Puzzled, she opened her eyes.
Tommy stared at her a strangely.
“I thought you wanted to kiss me,” she said.
“I did. I do. Only,” he grinned anemically, “you’re wearing my sister’s body; it’s a little weird. I’m sorry.”
Twila smiled, hugged him, and set her ear against his chest. She listened to his heart beat. “It’s all right. This will do.”
“I’m amazed by what I feel,” he said. “I’ve never been swept away by anything deeper than lust before. I never believed love could spring full-blown from nowhere, seize you by the throat, and shake you like a ragdoll. But that’s where I’m at.”
“Your words make me happy.” Twila peered into Tommy’s warm brown eyes. “And sad as well, because all the time we can ever have are moments like this one stolen from Max.” Twila pulled away. “Your pain breaks my heart. You should forget me and go on with your life—and be happy.”
Tommy’s face went from shocked dismay to anger. “Don’t talk that way. There must be a way to fix things, to get you a new body.”
�
��Without my hematite core, no download is possible.”
“Can’t we make a new core somehow?”
Twila sighed softly. “I know of no way.”
The window exploded inward. Glass showered everywhere. Twila found herself swung protectively away from the spray as Tommy took the brunt of it. A gold light filled the room. Several bodies phased through the wall from outside and a small figure filled the window frame. It was the Light Born, making a dramatic entrance.
“Sorry, I am,” Jhoori said. “Forgot to phase self, broke glass.”
“Max!” Commander Hardrune’s voice was piercing. “You’re all right? All of our links with you went dead. We were afraid…”
“Max has gone—someplace else, some other dimension, but she’ll be back soon,” Tommy explained.
“But,” Commander Hardrune pointed at max’s body, “She’s standing right there, in front of us.”
“I’m Twila,” she said. “I’m body-sitting until Max gets back.”
The Light Born presented her with assorted responses. Some looked doubtful, some wore curiosity, and some were bland with emotions too alien for classification. Hardrune was easy to read having grown apoplectic with rage. He visibly took control of his emotional state, speaking in a voice that was slow and measured. “This is…incredibly…ill-advised.”
“Uh, sorry,” about that,” Tommy said. “Max should have let you guys know she was dropping out of touch.”
“Get her back, now,” Hardrune ordered.
“I don’t know how to do that,” Twila said.
The discussion broke off. Harden grew abstracted, listening to a small voice over his earring comm. After a long silence he spoke, his voice a broken whisper. “A message has been received from the League Council. Numerous worlds have been devastated. All fleet ships are being recalled. Fleet Command begs the Guardian to come at once.”
“Then we have a problem,” Twila said.
* * *
“How long until we reach Osarra?” Jak’kim asked.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Tolum answered.
“What do you mean?” Ryssa demanded.
“Check out the course ahead of us on the imager. The orange sphere is Osarra. Those yellow ovals around it are League ships preparing to defend the planet. That asymmetrical blue blotch is the mollusk-maiden. Somehow, she leaped ahead of us. In moments, the area around Osarra is going to be a very hot battle zone. I recommend we reduce our momentum and wait the war out.”
“Do it,” Jak’kim ordered. “There’s nothing else we can do but let the storm pass.” He dragged himself out of the captain’s chair and rolled his shoulders, attempting to relax stiff muscles. “I’m going to brew a fresh pot of…something.” He moved around to face Ryssa. “Join me for a cup if you like. I don’t think you’ll want to watch what’s about to happen.”
“Fine,” Ryssa packed the single word with a great deal of anger while following him off the bridge.
Jak’kim led the way back to the ship’s mess. Ryssa took a seat at the main table while he filled his personal brewer with water and dumped old grounds. He scooped ground hurti out of a round tin, feeding the machine. After starting the brewer, he put the tin away, rinsed his cup, and hunted up another one for Ryssa.
“It’ll just be a couple minutes,” he said.
“Fine.” Her voice was less charged. He shot a glance her way. Her neck was bowed. Her head rested on her clenched hands. It seemed to Jak’kim that Ryssa’s emotional energy was draining away, leaving her despondent. That was not a good thing. He didn’t want despair nourished aboard his ship. The atmosphere was grim enough; he preferred her angry.
“I know we’re in a difficult situation,” he said, “but floundering in dissatisfaction never put provisions in the cold room or salad in the bowl.”
Ryssa looked up, eyes flashing. “Stick the platitudes in a lower orifice. I’ll flounder if I want to.”
He shrugged and turned away to hide a smile. That’s my girl.
The brewer chimed, announcing completion of its task. Jak’kim pulled the pot off the heating element and filled the cups. He carried them to the table and sat down, sliding Ryssa’s cup to her. “Here, it won’t help but it can’t hurt.”
“That…thing…it’s nearly the size of a small moon, highly adaptive, and certainly unnatural in origin. We don’t have that many military ships guarding Osarra. It’s going to be a while before reinforcements get here. You know what that means?”
“The defenders are throwing their lives away and massive civilian casualties are inevitable.”
“It means the defenders are throwing their lives away, and…sometimes I really hate you.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Tolum’s voice reached them over the comm. “Captain, the battle is over. The league ships have been destroyed. The enemy is entering atmosphere over the planetary capital. I suggest we head out-system. Osarra’s not going to be a worthwhile market for a very long time.”
“No,” Jak’kim said, knowing the open channel was picking up his voice. “We’re going to wait until we can make a safe approach. We are going to render aid to whoever we can, however we can, whenever we can.”
“Does Ryssa concur?” Tolum asked.
He looked across the table, into her tearing eyes.
“You heard the captain,” she said. “Execute your orders.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The channel closed.
As they drank in companionable silence, Jak’kim’s thoughts turned inward. Osarra’s going to be traumatized by this. No one on the planet will take the kindness of the universe for granted ever again. I don’t think Ryssa will either. Not that he ever has. He drained his cup, unaware of what he tasted. As for Tolum—I wish I had his pragmatic indifference. If I could put my heart in a box and pack it away for the next few days, I would.
The comm channel opened again with an alerting tone. “Captain, we’re easing our way through a debris field. The deflector shields are keeping us from fouling up with what’s left of the League ships. Sensors show no survivors. We’ll be hitting atmosphere soon. I’ve laid in a course that will keep us inconspicuous.”
“Fine, we’ll be there in a minute.” Jak’kim rose to his feet. “Coming?”
“It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
She followed him to the bridge. As Jak’kim claimed his chair, Ryssa approached the imager, studying the planet that now took up most of the display.
She said, “The capital is burning. That thing is carving it up with particle beams.” Her voice grew faint. “Planetary emitters are having no effect at all. Millions must be dead.”
“That’s a conservative estimate,” Tolum said. “Are we sure we want any part of this?”
Ryssa’s face became animated with a furious energy. Her mouth writhed as she spat out words. “You can get out now if you want to, but this ship is going down there and we will make a difference, somehow!”
Tolum showed no distress at the anger directed his way. “Well, as long as you’re sure…”
TWENTY-FIVE
Whirling through the heart of a three dimensional dance, Max had time and opportunity for reflection. She confronted the thorny problem of Tommy and Twila’s situation. It spared her having to consider her own problems.
Jeff’s wavy blond hair, pale blue eyes and friendly smile appeared from memory. Since the space battle, she’d avoided him, damping the mental channel between them. She knew this puzzled and hurt him, but she needed time to figure out if anything was wise or even possible between them. She liked him a lot, but she feared his response to finding out just how far beyond human she’d gone.
He might not want a girlfriend who takes “being alien” to an all new extreme. Maybe I should have more faith in him. If Tommy can love Twila, then there’s hope for Jeffrey and me. Either way, I need to find out. I can’t hide from him forever.
You are wise beyond your years, the faces
told her. To hide from pain is to hide from life and all it offers.
Resolve hardened within her.
Jeffrey and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart talk as soon as I can arrange it. Of course, I have to get back inside my body first. This should be enough time for Twila, anyway.
Max addressed the collective intelligence. I’ve gotta go. I’ll catch you guys later—way later.
Laughter from the Guardians suffused her. She sensed approval as they thrust her through the green dimension and back to her own body.
Maybe I should consider a career in stand-up comedy.
Don’t quit your day job, Hardrune’s thought lashed her with urgency as the link returned, the universe needs you.
“What’s going on?” Max stared at the host that filled her bedroom, noticing the shattered window as she pulled herself from her brother’s embrace.
He said, “Max, you’re back.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I hope you got some of your issues worked out with Twila. Playing musical-dimensions isn’t something I’m going to do very often.”
Hardrune addressed her over the link. We’ve no time to waste. There’s a trans-galactic emergency in progress. We are desperately needed. We must go at once.
“Are you all right.” Max touched her brother’s arm. “I’ve gotta go play hero.”
“I know. Don’t worry about me. Go save the day or something. I’ll explain to Mom and Dad.”
Max offered him a sympathetic smile as her body hazed in a burst of cold, gold fire. “Lead the way,” she told Hardrune. “It’s not like I know where I’m going.”
“Light Born,” he cried, “LIGHT UP!”
The room frothed in radiance. Tommy cried out in pain, covering his eyes as the Light Born shot up through the ceiling, fortunately leaving no holes.
Phasing along in their wake, Max called down, “Sorry.” She passed through the roof. Her house dwindled under her as she speared into the sky. As she climbed into the thinning air, some of the golden energy solidified around her. Fashioned by her will, her new armor was formfitting with sleek, dramatic lines. The helmet encasing her head framed her face with backswept wings.
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