by JB Penrose
“Everything is fine,” Andrew immediately assured her with a hug. “We had some unexpected time on our hands and thought we’d check on your packing.”
“The packing is done, but now there’s sand everywhere,” she teased.
“You never complained about sweeping up the sand before.” Andrew playfully pulled the pin from her hair and tried to pocket it.
“Merry Christmas, even if it’s a day late.” John’s arm slipped around Dalyn’s shoulders and they headed towards the cabin. “I brought some of that special coffee you like so much.” He produced a small flat package from inside his jacket and waved it in front of her.
“Who’s the one who likes it so much?” she challenged, but grabbed for it playfully.
Andrew fell into step beside them. “I brought a real present.” He reached behind her ear and snapped his fingers in a magical show-of-hands. With a twist of his wrist, he dropped a golden ring on a chain into Mag’Dalyn’s cupped hands.
“Oh, Andrew, it’s beautiful.” She admired the design of the Aurora's crest. James was already wearing the gift from Andrew, and she noticed the same ring on the fingers of John and Andrew. She slipped the gift over her head and let it rest on the chain. “What a nice idea.”
They gathered around the table in the cabin’s dining area as Mag’Dalyn pumped water into the teakettle from the small sink.
“So you’re ready to launch?” Andrew asked. Looking around, everything seemed to be in its usual place.
“Sure. We’re leaving in the morning.” Her back was turned and she was glad they couldn’t see her face.
“We said our good-byes at the orphanage this morning,” James covered for her true feelings.
“Except the one that counts,” Dalyn admitted under her breath. But still, they heard her.
“Roko.” She knew from his tone that John understood. They all did. “We know we can come back to Earth, Mags, we just have to make sure we can leave. More than once a government has promised me something and afterward changed its position. We’ve got to stay on schedule.”
“It’s not that.” The water overflowed into the kettle she held.
“She had a dream,” James explained. “Christmas Eve.”
Dalyn put the kettle on the stove and joined them at the table. James wrapped her in his arms, she knew it was hard for him, too. Her eyes were closed, but she felt their hands cover hers.
“Not a dream,” she told them softly. “I saw her. I know she’s alive. I think she’s close,” she whispered to herself. “The DayStar guided me to her.”
“Were there any clues in your dream to help us find her? We’ll stay, and we’ll do this, Mags. Together.”
The silence was heavy. There were no clues. There never were. “Nothing.” The admission was hard. “I won’t ask you to reconsider the launch, and I’ll be the first one on the ship. But I am glad to have seen her face.”
“We may never understand why we weren’t allowed to watch our daughter grow up. Even if I’ve tried to put her out of my thoughts, I’ve never been able to get her out of my heart. But if we were meant to find her - we would have,” James whispered the ritual reply.
“If your heart says we can find her, I’m willing to try.”
Again, was the word John would have added. His support never waivered in the search to find his niece. When there were only six of you on an alien planet for 2000 years, family meant everything. But staying was too much to ask, and Dalyn knew it. The issue of the launch now involved the World. She couldn’t stop the investigation of the DayStar. The world needed to know the source of this new light in the sky.
“If our Paths are being divinely directed,” Dalyn had to admit, “then now is the time to launch. This DayStar is a beacon; I feel that to be true.” She sighed and rested with her head on James’ shoulder. “But in some ways, Home is where the heart is.”
“Being divinely directed to launch doesn’t make me feel any better about leaving Iscar here.” Andrew broached the other subject no one wanted to discuss.
“Iscar.” James shivered. “I hope he doesn’t find Roko.”
“Roko will be able to take care of herself,” Dalyn assured him with a motherly pat of pride. “I may not have answers, but I do have faith. If this is what’s to be, then so be it.”
“Still it would be nice to know the reason,” James admitted.
“I agree, but this seems to be our moment to shine.” John said. “But even my dreams are telling me it’s time to launch.”
“Yes, I know. These dreams have been my only relief.” At least in her dreams she could envision her daughter. The kettle began to whistle and Dalyn rose to make coffee for everyone.
“Peter describes his more like nightmares,” Andrew volunteered. “And he’s acting strange, like he fell in love. We’re launching in six days!”
“He’s certainly never acted like this before,” John added. “Her name is Rachel. She’s part of Nathan’s staff. Peter met her at the party Friday, and last night they celebrated Christmas at Simon’s.”
“Take it easy with him,” Mag’Dalyn urged. “It’s just as hard to leave your heart after two days as it is after two thousand years.”
A gust of wind slapped against the window shutters and the noise brought them all to their feet. Surprised, John ran to the door. Dark clouds clustered on the horizon and the air pressure was building. “Would you look at that!”
“I can’t believe it. Not now!” Andrew and John exchanged a knowing look. “I hate it when He sends a storm like this.”
“We’d better make a run for it.”
“Maybe you should wait it out. These storms always mean something.”
“Can’t! Not this time.” John swallowed the last of his coffee and handed the cup to Mags. “I’ve got to be at this conference.”
“We’ll ride low,” Andrew said. “If we leave now maybe we can stay ahead of the crest.” He bolted out the door after John. “We’ll pick you up in the Immortal Valley. Be ready!”
“We are,” James said. “You be careful.”
* * *
People dressed in every cultural expression filled the conference room, and the hum of universal translators blended with excited human voices.
“The OneWorld League will be quite a success under your leadership,” Nathan Young complimented the conference leader, Hirundi Asaad.
“Thank you for all of your efforts, Senator Young, or, I should say, Mr. President?”
“I’m not in office, yet.” Nathan smiled. “Besides, I’m not the one to thank. We owe all of this to John Reider.”
“Speaking of John,” Hirundi looked around. “What should we do? You know Andrew is missing also?”
“I hope they get here soon,” Li’Ana said. “Everyone is anxious to get started.”
“This could be John’s way of saying take care of yourself,” Hirundi told them. “He’s like that sometimes.”
“Could be,” Nathan hesitated. “But I can’t see John missing this conference. Especially the opening ceremonies.”
“Still, it is getting late. I’m going to send someone to look for them but I think we should go ahead and start the conference.” Hirundi signaled to someone standing close, who then relayed instructions into a button microphone. A few minutes later the loudspeaker system announced in several languages to begin seating. Anticipation heightened; some cheered, and aides began to circulate around the room getting everyone settled.
The President-elect and Mrs. Young took their places in the Beta Section with other heads-of-state.
“Where are Mr. Reider, and Mr. Pierzon?” asked the Danish Queen, Cedra.
“We’re not sure. But we’re not worried about them yet. They’ll show up,” Nathan said.
“John Reider would be late for his own launch,” the Russian president quipped as they sat. “Lucky for us this DayStar isn’t going anywhere.”
“Andrev, you know we’re lucky the Aurora can even undertake this mission.”
r /> “I’m only jealous not to be going with them.”
Everyone laughed and settled into their chairs. A waiter filled the glasses with champagne and each delegate took turns toasting everyone’s achievements while the room settled. Every section of the room was celebrating as well, and the general hum of voices and translators returned.
“Here’s to world unification,” the Andrev began. “I’m sorry it took a bunch of scientists to do a politicians job.” Everyone at the table turned towards the Alpha Section and joined his salute. The scientists nodded, not understanding, or even hearing the toast.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate assigned seating? This is what John and Andrew get for being late.” Queen Cedra exchanged the name cards at the table settings and motioned Li’Ana to the empty seat next to hers. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, dear, just who designed your gown?”
Li’Ana followed her husband to the other side of the table at the Cedra’s insistence. Neither of them felt the explosion when he pulled the chair away from the table.
* * *
John and Andrew flew out of the sandstorm just as New Jerusalem came into view.
“Yes, yes,” the control tower confirmed their landing on the roof of the OneWorld Conference Center. “They’ve been looking for you. There’s been a bombing!”
Andrew landed quickly; the ground crew unfastened the flight doors. The sand-covered hoverjet left a thick crust on the crewman’s glove and fell to a pile on the ground as they disembarked.
Inside, the conference was organized bedlam; fire sprinklers showered the crowd with water. The computer voice over the intercom instructed everyone in several languages to “Exit in an orderly manner.” No one paid attention to the recording.
John tied a handkerchief over his nose and mouth as he headed toward the small fire still burning. The sprinklers and the staff with access to extinguishers had contained most of the flames, but the smoke choked and blinded him; the ventilation system obviously failed. He pulled a tablecloth free to beat back the rogue flame at his feet and made his way toward the medical personnel gathered in the Beta section where Andrew was talking to a CSF guard.
Hirundi’s hand on his shoulder anchored his step and John turned to find the conference leader. Hirundi was blistered from the flash heat and John stopped a medical attendant passing by.
“I’ll be fine.” Hirundi refused her assistance. “See to the others.”
“What happened?” John asked. There was no response. “What happened?” he repeated.
“What?” Hirundi’s balance swayed when he shook his head, obviously deafened from the blast. “That bomb was planted under your chair,” he shouted loudly.
The heavy hand of fate in his heart kept John speechless. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. It wasn’t an ordinary storm that delayed them.
Andrew joined them. “The bomb was under our chairs.”
“Then who’s that?” John pointed to the two bodies covered by tablecloths.
“Nathan and Li’Ana moved to our seats at Cedra’s request. The Young’s are dead and Cedra’s in critical condition, but the others at the table had only minor injuries; burns. They’re all at the hospital. Hirundi, you should have gone with them.”
Hirundi shook off Andrew’s assistance and surveyed the room’s activity. “Why would anyone want to sabotage this conference? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It wasn’t the conference they intended to stop,” Andrew speculated to John on the side. “An ordinary terrorist wouldn’t care enough to isolate only us at a table.”
Once again, they’d been Divinely protected from unseen peril, this time, at the cost of another great man, and a dear friend. John swallowed hard. “Only one plastique has that much control.” John tried to keep his expression neutral. “I think the possibility of Frank Morrow working with Iscar is something we should strongly consider.”
“It’s about time you came around.”
* * *
Ring! Ring!
Peter groped in the dark for the phone next to the bed. He slapped the speaker button. “Hello?”
“Professor Kerroon?” The operator had a foreign accent.
“Yes.” He forced himself to wake up.
“Please hold the line. This is an urgent call.”
Peter thought he heard a siren in the background and sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Peter?” It was John’s voice.
“Screen on.” He activated the monitor. “John?”
John was calling from a desk phone but the door behind him was open. Peter saw the guards directing conference participants toward an exit while directing uniformed personnel in another direction. John’s tuxedo looked as wet as the hair plastered around his face.
“What happened?”
“A bomb.”
“There was a bomb? Is Andrew all right?”
“Andrew is safe. Nathan and Li’Ana have been killed.”
“Killed?” Peter echoed, hoping it was a bad dream. “A bomb?”
“A very specialized plastique.”
“Who else is hurt? What about the Conference?”
“The Queen, Cedra is in critical shape, but there were no other serious injuries and I think the conference will resume in a day or two. Hirundi Asaad is already looking for a different location. He doesn’t want to lose the momentum established among world governments.” John leaned close to the screen, and then checked over his shoulder. “The bomb was intended for us but there was another one of those storms and we were late to the conference. Nathan and Li’Ana took our seats - they were an accident.”
Peter gave a great sigh. “That’s a heavy loss, John. I’m really sorry this happened.” A moment of silence hung between them; Peter’s head dropped and his prayer was well-practiced. Through centuries he’d seen too many of these accidents; lost too many friends. John always took it personally, but any of them would have gladly exchanged their own life. He couldn’t explain the Cosmic Law that kept the crew safe at the sacrifice of others, but he had the faith there was a reason for everything.
“I thought you’d want to be the one to tell Rachel,” John continued. “Andrew thinks since they missed us at the conference that PROBE-Tech will be the next target. He’s already talked to Donnally. We’re set to launch immediately upon our return.”
“What? Don’t you want to stick around and find out who did this to the Young’s?”
“They didn’t do it to Nathan and Li’Ana! They did it to us! We’ve got to get out of here before Morrow, or whoever, finds a way to finally stop the launch. Mags and James will be at the Immortal Valley by the time we land in New Columbia. Same plan - only Wednesday.”
“All right,” Peter reluctantly agreed. “I’ll see you when you return. Thanks - for letting me call Rachel.”
“Just watch what you say about the launch. And be ready on Wednesday.” A uniformed guard stopped outside John’s door. “I’ve got to go. Do what you need to there, but be ready!” He signed off.
Peter lowered his head in a silent prayer before heading to the closet for something to wear.
* * *
She might have been sleepwalking, but Rachel didn’t realize she was up until the security chain was extended to its length and she saw Peter was standing at her kitchen door. Immediately she rued the comfort of her old sleep-sweatshirt, a 1962 relic from her Radcliff University alma mater, and pulled off the handkerchief that tied her hair back. He would just have to ignore her fuzzy blue house slippers.
“Peter? What are you doing here?”
“I have to talk to you, Rachel. It’s important. Can I come in?”
She wanted to say no; she could tell it was bad news. Instead, she fumbled with the lock and stepped back from the door. “I’ll make some coffee.”
“We need to talk.” His hand on her arm stopped her, but she wouldn’t turn around.
“Can’t it wait for one cup of coffee? I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
&nbs
p; He let her go, and followed her into the kitchen. Peter removed his gloves but not his coat, and took a seat on the stool at the cooking island. It was a bad sign. “Rachel. I know something.”
The phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” Peter warned softly. “Let me tell you.”
She ignored the phone, which was now recording a message. Her heart pounded so loud it deafened her ears but she read his lips, moving slowly, almost exaggerated.
“It’s about the President.”
“And Li’Ana?” She didn’t recognize her own voice.
“There was a bombing at the conference. They’ve been killed.”
The creamer fell from her shaking hands and tears blinded her. She backed against the refrigerator for support. “Why would anyone want to kill Nathan and Li’Ana?”
“The bomb was localized, very technical. And it was meant for John and Andrew. They were late to the conference and the Young’s took their seats.”
NO! Her heart screamed the denial that her logic knew to be true. “What about Andrew’s security? I thought PROBE-Tech had the best security in the world?”
“Andrew feels as bad about this as anyone,” Peter said. “After all, it’s him that should be dead right now.”
“I’m sorry. I’m glad your brother’s all right. It’s just that -” Her mind reeled from the Conference news. Tears spilled over her dark lashes and her knees buckled. She never felt it when Peter caught her at the waist.