Angels Among Us

by C. E. Barrett

  “I'll take you up on that, as soon as I remember where and when I had them last.” She leaned forward. “But right now, I'm going to go check out that lake. You coming?” She vaulted lightly to the ground. Daffyd opted for going through the gate, latching it securely closed behind him.

  “We can't have our little dairy producer wandering off, can we?” he said to Seren.

  This time, she led the way. At the bottom, she moved to one side and looked around, her eyebrows drawing together as she thought. He joined her.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, noting the frown of concentration.

  “I'm thinking it's odd that the path doesn't go all the way to the dock. I mean, if anyone used this place regularly, you'd expect a trail, wouldn't you?” They both studied the area.

  “You're right,” he said. “There's another path, too, over there. It looks like it leads up to the driveway area.” He, too, frowned. “It dead ends down here, as well. And did you notice how well manicured the grass appears? Someone must have cut it, and fairly recently.”

  “You know, I don't know whether this place should send me screaming, or if I should just shrug and say to myself, ‘don't worry about it, just accept it'. Right this very minute, I'm leaning more and more towards the running and screaming.” She said this in such a matter-of-fact tone, that the meaning of the words took a few moments to sink into his consciousness. He turned his gaze on her. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, and a very annoyed expression on her face, staring out over the water. Her leg was jittering nervously. He wondered if she was on the verge of some spectacular blowout.

  She was wondering the same thing. Her nerves had been stretched to their limit, and she was thinking that an enormous primal scream, and perhaps some mindless acts of violence on an inanimate object, might be just the ticket to restore some kind of balance. On the other hand, she thought losing her cool in front of Daffyd might put undue strain on the friendship that was growing between them and she didn't want that. She liked him too much to subject him to one of her rare, but spectacular, emotional eruptions. She focused on her breathing for a few minutes, then, realizing she sounded more like a seething bull about to charge the matador than anything else, and seeing the moderately alarmed look on Daffyd's face, she dissolved into howling hysterical laughter. Daffyd's expression became even more worried, and this merely added fuel to the fire. She tried to explain, but words wouldn't, no, couldn't make it past the peals of hilarity that were falling from her mouth. Tears ran down her face and she finally just dropped to the ground, and sat there, shaking with mirth. Finally, the storm passed, leaving her weak and giggling. She felt much better, and if Daffyd had to see her unglued, at least this form was less of a shock than watching her rage up and down.

  She wiped her eyes, and looked up at Daffyd. He was gazing down at her, his blue eyes alight with merriment, his lips barely touched by his smile. He offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her easily to her feet, and offered her the handkerchief he had taken from his pants pocket. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he cut her off.

  “It's all right, Seren,” he said. “I have to admit I was somewhat concerned ... but really, with all you've been through, I think it's allowed.” His smile became an unexpected grin. “It was certainly entertaining.” He chuckled and then laughed out loud. “You know, of all the people there are in my world and yours, I'm glad it's you I'm stranded with.” He stopped suddenly before he said too much, and then, realizing he was still holding her hand, he let it go. But his eyes held hers a moment longer before he turned away.

  She watched him as he walked out onto the dock, balancing easily as it dipped under his weight. His words warmed her. She liked him very much, and it was nice to know that he liked her, too. She saw him kneel and dip a hand into the water.

  “How is it?” she called out to him.

  “A little cool this early in the day. But it will probably be perfect by mid-afternoon,” he replied.

  Seren walked to the edge of the grass where lawn met lake, and dabbled her own hand in the cool, clear water.

  “You're right. If it gets as hot today as it was yesterday, I might just come down later and swim. You can join me if you don't mind seeing me in my underwear.” She grinned inwardly at the thought.

  The image danced through his mind. He shook his head at her.

  “No, I don't mind.” You could swim now; I wouldn't mind. I might have to leave, but I wouldn't mind.

  “That's good,” she replied. “You know, you could swim in your underwear, too. I mean, it covers as much as a bathing suit does.”

  “I shall certainly give it some consideration,” he said in an odd tone.

  She rose to her feet. I bet that means ‘no'. Aloud, she said, “You want to teach me how to milk a cow?”

  He looked over at her, his eyes dancing, another grin threatening to surface. “Really? You want to learn to milk?”

  “Yes, really. Sure, why not.” She dried her hand on her shorts.

  The grin surfaced. “I just didn't picture you as the farming type.” He stood and strode back to shore. “Well, well, well. Let's go!”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER 20

  Devany lay on her back under the lilac bushes. She had intended to return directly to the house, but the sweet, unfamiliar scent had kept her here. It had seemed safe and inviting under the bushes, among the thick stems. She discovered the perfect spot where several lilacs grew in a circle, with enough room between their trunks for her to wriggle her small body into the space in the middle.

  The ground was cool and dry and crumbly. It was kind of hard, but she didn't mind. She made herself comfortable, at first curling up into a little ball, but slowly unfolding until she was stretched out on her back. She gazed up through the leaves and delicate purple flowers to glimpses of the sky above. Here, in the near silence, with only the hum of industrious bees as background noise, she considered everything that had happened since yesterday. Her mind ran over everything she had seen, done, and heard. She remembered every word Seren or Daffyd had said, no matter how bizarre or unreal the meaning seemed. She still didn't believe the ‘different world’ story, but neither could she offer any more likely explanation. Her experience was too narrow, too limited, for her to postulate a theory.

  However, there was no denying that Seren could do an awful lot of things. Devany would never have believed this possible for one person if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. She had even heard Seren humming a song this morning while she made breakfast! But she wasn't a singer. It was all too much for her young brain to process. Soon, the movement of the leaves in the breeze and the hypnotic swaying of the flowers lulled her to sleep.

  * * * *

  “Moving right along,” said Gerri Reznik, walking the seemingly endless road.

  Rapsim kept quiet. He recognized when she was venting and knew that input from him would only escalate her foul mood. They had been walking for hours without seeming to get anywhere. The landscape was essentially the same for kilometer after kilometer. It was like being in one of those old movies, Gerri decided, where the actors sat in a car, or walked a treadmill while the scenery moved around them. It provided the illusion of movement without anyone actually getting anywhere.

  “This is insane! There must be something new around here. Anything! A flower, a big boulder—something as a landmark so we know we're getting somewhere.” She glared at the monotony around her. “I hate this. I want to go back to the expedition.”

  Rapsim jerked his chin at the fruit tree they were approaching.

  “Lunch?” he suggested.

  “Oh. Yay. More fruit.” Well, at least these were something new. They appeared to be apples of some kind. The multi declared them safe for consumption, so Gerri picked four or five. She gave two to Rapsim and sat in the shade of the tree to eat hers.

  “How long have we been gone, Rap?” she asked.

  He chec
ked the multi. “About two minutes home time,” he announced. “Still no time passing here.”

  “Oh, yeah. Two minutes. I gotta tell ya, Rap, it's been the longest two damn minutes of my life.”

  * * * *

  The Captain of Expedition 292, on board the Taravalan watched the tri-d images for the umpteenth time. The picture was as clear as clear could be but it was a bit of a strain on the sensibilities. S/he replayed it one more time. Nothing had changed.

  The tri-d was from one of the many systems monitoring the corridors of the ship. There were ProtoLeader Reznik and Counselor Rapsim walking along the corridor. Rapsim stumbled, grabbed at Reznik, there was a flash of light and they were gone.

  The really irritating thing was that none of the security systems reported a breech of any kind. Nothing had malfunctioned, there had been no random teleporter activity and the transponders implanted below their ears were not registering anywhere. The range on those friggly things was measured in light years! How they could have gotten out of range was inconceivable.

  However, it was imperative they be found. The mission could only be delayed a very short while and Reznik's presence was essential. She was originally slated to be the ProtoLeader for the Team, under the watchful eye of the actual Leader, Lasver Noll. Then Noll had been struck with Betel fever and would be out of commission for weeks. The Recruits’ Number One had decided that Reznik would take over as actual Acting Leader. A Team had to have a Leader or the mission would be scrapped. No one else was available.

  Captain Chanruh watched the tri-d again—in infrared this time, just in case. S/he still saw nothing new.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  CHAPTER 21

  Daffyd leaned on the stall door and watched Seren with great amusement. She had tied her hair back out of the way and was squatting on the milking stool. The cow, which had apparently acquired the name ‘Dammit', stood placidly enough, but with her head turned slightly to keep an eye on the woman at her side. The calf nibbled at the handful of hay Daffyd was holding down for it.

  Seren leaned her forehead against the cow's side and laughed softly. “Dammit, what am I doing wrong? You gave all kinds of milk when Daffyd did this!” She looked over at him. “Help,” she said in a small voice.

  “Are you sure? You seemed pretty confident earlier.” His lips twitched in a near-smile, his blue eyes dancing with humor. “I believe your words were, ‘Oh heck, Daffyd, anyone can do that.’ Or something to that effect.”

  “I take it all back! It's not that easy.” She grinned mischievously. “You are the God of Milking Cows. Now, please come help me, oh Great One, I beg you.”

  He drew himself to his full height and looked down his nose at her. “Well, I suppose ... when you put it like that. What self-respecting god would ignore such an eloquent plea from a worshiper?” His supercilious tone made her laugh out loud, causing Dammit to look at her in some alarm. Daffyd chuckled.

  He crouched behind the stool, Seren's back against his chest. He put his arms around her and covered her hands with his on the cow's udder. He had to lean over her shoulder a little to see what he was doing. Then, using his hands to control hers, he showed her exactly how to place, grip and squeeze, grip and squeeze.

  “Geez, Daffyd, you make it seem so easy!” She marveled at the streams of milk splashing into the bucket. “Now let me try again.”

  He released her hands, but kept his position behind her in case she needed him again. He steadied himself with a hand on her hip, his other arm resting on his leg. He continued looking over her shoulder to watch her efforts.

  She took a deep breath and tried again. A squirt of milk rewarded her efforts. “WooHOO!” she cheered and kept milking. She caught Daffyd's grin out of the corner of her eye and turned her face toward him. “Thank you, Oh God of Milking Cows,” she said, and kissed his cheek impulsively. An odd expression crossed his face as he looked at her. His lips half-pursed, and for a moment she thought he would kiss her back. She held her breath.

  “You're quite welcome,” he said, and stood abruptly. He went back to distracting the calf and watching from the door. His mind, his feelings were in turmoil. He wanted so much to return the kiss, to stay where he had been. He wanted the warmth of her against his chest, her hip under his hand. He liked the way her hands had felt in his. He wished he could tell her all this, but what good would it do? He remembered the first time he had ever let a girl know she had had an erotic effect on him and her scream of outrage and disgust. He had been embarrassed and ashamed. He couldn't bear the thought of Seren looking at him like that, so he withdrew.

  For her part, Seren continued to milk the cow, cursing her stupidity. She should have known he would panic and run. And it had felt so nice. He was solid and warm and she had wanted to lean back against him for comfort. His hands on hers had sent pleasant tingles through her, and when he had rested his left hand on her hip, the jolt was almost like an electric shock. Lord, he was an attractive man. She just wished he wasn't so heterophobic.

  She managed to almost fill the bucket. Daffyd took it and poured it into the big steel milk can and screwed the lid on. He rinsed the pail thoroughly with clean water and set it aside.

  “I'll bring the milk can up to the house, shall I?” he said.

  “That'd be great.” She knew she sounded as unnatural as he did. They really needed to talk this out. “Daffyd,” she began.

  “Yes?” His voice showed the strain of carrying the heavy container.

  “Um. You want some help with that? Getting it up the path is going to be fun.” She changed her topic gracefully.

  “There ought to be an easier way,” he said, and set the milk can down. They looked around for something to transport the milk up to the house. Seren indicated a door at the back of the barn.

  “What's in there?” she asked.

  Daffyd shrugged. “I don't know. I must have missed it somehow.” Actually, I don't remember seeing it at all, and I'm sure I looked.

  They reached it at the same time. Seren tugged it open. A tunnel led into the hillside. They exchanged a glance, their earlier discomfort replaced by curiosity. Daffyd, glancing around the doorway, found the light switch. He pushed it and a series of globes in the ceiling of the tunnel sprang to life.

  “Cool. Let's have a look, Daffyd,” and she stepped through the door. The passageway ran straight and almost level, ending at another door. When they tried it, it opened easily. Again, Daffyd discovered the switch and pressed it.

  They were in the cellar of the house. Bright cones of light illuminated various areas. The door they stood in was in one of the corners. Straight ahead were the support posts for the stairs that led up to the ground floor. Shelves ran between each pair of posts making convenient storage space for a variety of miscellaneous items. Beyond the stairs was a workbench, the tools hanging neatly on the wall.

  An ultra-modern washing machine stood beside a very old pair of stone laundry sinks. Beyond the sinks was a bin containing the sheets Seren had thrown down last night. A square hole in the ceiling above the bin proved her theory about a laundry chute. She pointed it out to Daffyd.

  He nodded to show he had seen it and turned his attention to the other door in their corner. This one led to a root cellar, with bins full of potatoes, turnips, carrots, beets and a few vegetables neither could identify. Bunches of onions and garlic hung from the ceiling, vying for space with huge sausages, hams and other smoked meats. A barrel was half full of apples.

  “Seren!” he called over his shoulder. “Come look at this!”

  She looked past him, then pushed him into the room so she could gain entrance. She wandered around the room, looking into bins, peering into the crates and boxes and barrels. Daffyd examined the bounty hanging from the ceiling. Their eyes met across the room. She blew out a long breath through pursed lips.

  “Wow!” was all she said. “Wow, indeed,” he replied. “It looks as though we're quite well provided for.”


  “No kidding! Holy cow! This is amazing. There's butter here in pound packages ... well they look about a pound each, anyway.” She indicated a barrel. “God, Daffyd, I could make such a feast with this stuff!”

  “So could I,” he remarked dryly.

  She dimpled. “I'm sorry. I'm so used to being chief-cook-and-bottle-washer, I forget other people can do it, too. So ... you like to cook?”

  “Very much. And I'm quite good at it, if I say so myself.”

  “Well, then, Daffyd. Why don't we split up the cooking duties?”

  “Yes, why don't we. You made breakfast this morning. I'll make supper. Lunch we can work together on. Tomorrow, I'll make breakfast and you make supper. Fair enough?”

  “I think so. All righty then.” She held out her hand. He paused, then stepped forward and shook it firmly.

  “Then the deal is sealed?” he asked, to confirm his interpretation of the gesture.

  “Yes, sir, it is.” She smiled at him. He seemed to have gotten over his earlier mood and she was feeling relieved.

  “Then I'll come back down later and choose my ingredients,” he said. “All we need now is some good wine, and we could dine in style.” He smiled regretfully. “I do enjoy a nice wine with supper.”

  Seren nodded. “Yes. It would be nice. Oh well, let's go see what else is here.”

  They returned to the main room. At the far end was yet another door. By unspoken agreement, they headed there next. As they passed the washing machine, Seren stopped. The machine was unfamiliar to her, seeming much fancier than the one in her home. Daffyd paused and glanced at it.

  “You do laundry, too?” Seren asked him.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, no. That is not one of my many talents. But I do have a machine like this one. I can probably figure it out.”

  She shrugged. “It's okay. I can't expect you to be perfect.” She grinned her mischievous grin.

  He looked at her archly. “I may not be perfect,” he said with great dignity. “But parts of me are excellent.”