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Radiant

Page 13

by Christina Daley


  He chuckled. "Light, as you call it, is far too slow."

  "Really?"

  He nodded. "If I were that slow, I would never get anything done. Translation is instantaneous."

  "Almost like being in more than one place at once?" she asked.

  "Almost," he said. "But that's something completely different. I can't do that."

  "It's still cool," she said. "Is that why you had some trouble walking after the accident? Because how we walk is slow?"

  "That was part of it," he said. "But it was mostly because I never walked before. I've never had eyes or a mouth or hands. I could see and communicate before, but not like humans can."

  "What's the difference?" she asked.

  He thought for a moment. "There are certain parts of you that are limiting. Like your sight and your hearing."

  "You forgot to say that we're also slow," Mary said.

  "Yes," he said. "But it's good to slow down sometimes."

  "But even with Carter's body, you can still do stuff," she said. "Like translate."

  He nodded. "The energy of human emotions is very, very strong, so the body itself is not really hindering at all. I can still translate to the edge of the universe if I need to."

  "Really?" she asked. "To the edge of the universe means through space?"

  He nodded.

  "Have you visited any aliens?"

  "There aren't any to visit."

  "Really?" she asked. "No E.T.? Jedi? Klingons?"

  He chuckled. "I think what humans call 'aliens' are just sightings of my kind. There are some that are more mischievous than others. Some of my kind break the rules a lot. That's another thing humans are strong in. Imagination."

  Drew at the university was going to be disappointed, Mary thought. Then again, maybe not.

  "Huh, I really thought that there were these higher alien beings out there that seeded life on our planet," she said.

  He laughed. "Nope. No aliens, higher or lower or in between. If there were other life forms out there, we would need several more universes for everything to work properly. That's why Earth is so interesting. It's where all the life is. There are others of my kind out in space, but that's because their jobs are out there. They rarely come here, and I rarely go out there."

  "But you have left here before?" she asked.

  He nodded. "But there are strict rules that we have to follow. We can't leave our duties untended."

  "Are there a lot of these rules?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you broken many? Like, more than the one of throwing Carter Maxwell into the path of a bus?"

  He thought for a moment before answering her. "These rules were made to protect humans. It's not the same as your laws, which can limit you. Take gravity, for example. If the Earth didn't have the kind that it has, then everyone and everything would be flung off to who knows where. Those are the kinds of rules I'm talking about. If I choose to not follow a rule, I forfeit the protection once afforded by that rule. And there are consequences to pay."

  "Is being with me breaking one of them?" she asked.

  "It's breaking a ton of them," he said. Then he smiled. "But I'm willing to face certain consequences."

  She smiled as well.

  "You're smiling," he said. "Does this mean that, after I've told you what I am, you're not afraid of me?"

  She looked at him. "Well, I don't understand you. Not very well, at least. But no, I'm not afraid. Not anymore. Sorry for freaking out."

  "It's all right," he said.

  Mary tapped her fingers on her knee. "So, I guess you need to translate us if we're to get back home?"

  He nodded. "If that is what you would like." He stood and dusted off his jeans.

  Mary got to her feet, too. "But…we don't have to go home right away, do we? You can get around the world instantly, right?"

  "Yes," he said. "Why?"

  "Can we visit, like, Paris?" she asked. "Just for a bit?"

  He wrinkled his brow. "I just told you that I'm occupying a human body without permission, and you want to travel?"

  She shrugged. "I don't get out much."

  He smiled. "Paris in France or in Texas?

  "France, of course." She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

  "Anywhere in particular?" he asked.

  "How about the Eiffel Tower?" she said. "I hear it's a pretty big deal."

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. The elevator feeling came back, and an instant later, they were standing at the base of the massive tower. But it was hard to see it in the dark.

  "What do you think?" Phos asked.

  "It's dark," she said. "I thought it lights up at night. At least that's what it does in the movies."

  "It does until about one in the morning," he said. "It's almost four now."

  "Hm," Mary said. "That's disappointing."

  "Maybe it's better if you saw it from the top?" he asked.

  "Okay," she said.

  Back into the elevator.

  "WHOA!" Mary screamed when they translated. She clung to Phos and squeezed her eyes shut.

  "What is it?" he asked. One of his arms held her while the other clutched a steel beam.

  "You didn't say we were going to the very top!" she cried. A cold blast of wind threatened to tear her away.

  "What did you think I meant when I said 'top'?" he asked.

  "Like the normal 'top,'" she said. "Where normal people go when they normally mean the 'top'!"

  He spoke calmly. "I won't let you fall. Even if you did, I'd catch you and translate like I did at the Grand Canyon. Please open your eyes. You're missing a wonderful view."

  She kept her eyes shut.

  "Mary?" he said, rubbing her back comfortingly.

  "Keep your hands still!" she snapped.

  "Sorry," he said.

  Mary took a deep breath. Then keeping her arms firmly around his neck, she opened her eyes.

  He was right. The City of Lights was truly magnificent from this height. The different avenues looked like a web of electricity.

  "See?" Phos said.

  Mary sighed. "Fine. It's amazing."

  He chuckled. "Would you like to see something else? Or would you rather stay up here?"

  "Something else," she said quickly.

  They translated to the top of something that Mary could handle a little better: L'Arc de Triomphe. They watched funny little cars, which were out even at this late hour, circle the monument for a moment before Phos took her to see Notre Dame Cathedral. It was much grander than that little church where Mary bought the holy water.

  Soon, the sun began to rise on Paris. It colored the sky with amazing shades of blues and purples, followed by splashes of orange and vibrant pink.

  "Ready to go?" Phos asked. "It's past midnight back at home."

  "No," Mary said. "This is my first time here. I'm a quarter French, you know."

  He chuckled. "We can come back. And we can visit other places, too."

  Mary thought for a moment, then nodded and put her arms around him again. She hadn't finished blinking before they were on her roof again.

  "We're here," Phos said.

  But neither of them let go of each other right away. They stood like that for a while.

  Mary finally had to pull away. "Thank you. For telling me the truth."

  "Thank you for listening," Phos said. He looked skyward.

  Mary followed his gaze. "Meteoroids?"

  "Just some small ones," he said. "You won't be able to see them from here."

  "Can I see you work?" she asked. "Up close?"

  "It's dangerous," he said. "Your body isn't made for the temperatures at that altitude."

  "But you take Carter's body up there," she said.

  "That's because my energy is constantly regenerating it," he said.

  Mary crossed her arms. "That's not fair."

  "The next time you dream, we'll talk about 'fair' again," he chuckled. "I have to go. Good night, Mary."
/>
  "Good night, Phos."

  And he was gone.

  Mary sighed. She stretched out on the plastic lounge chair and stared at the sky until she fell asleep.

  Back to Table of Contents

  - 20 -

  Burn

  Almost every date Mary went on with Phos was spent translating around the globe. They went everywhere, even Antarctica. When Phos removed his sweater and only wore a t-shirt, Mary was warm enough just standing next to him.

  It was the best way to travel. No need for luggage, hotels, cramped flights, jet lag, subways, rental cars, or any other inconveniences. They exchanged money a few times to buy wontons, gelato, pineapple, or anything else that they wanted. But other than that, it was just Mary, Phos, and the place. They went on a few "normal" dates for Mom's benefit. Phos would do the gentlemanly thing of waiting for her downstairs and then bringing her back promptly at the end of the evening. They visited Spice several more times and even met Raj's parents and his sister Gita.

  During one of their "cool" dates, as Mary called them, Phos took her to Vietnam. While it was the middle of the night at home, it was the middle of the day there. He took her first to Ho Chi Minh City, which was once Saigon. They worked their way north to various spots until they ended up in Hanoi. Everywhere they went, people looked at Phos as if they'd never seen a Westerner before.

  "I'm hungry," Mary said. "Can we get something to eat?"

  "Of course," he said. "What would you like?"

  She thought for a moment. "I don't know. Do you have a taste for anything?"

  "I don't know what that means," he said, "to have a taste for something."

  "You don't?" she asked. "Like, you haven't wanted something specific when you were hungry?"

  "I don't get hungry," he said.

  "Really?"

  He nodded. "My energy is constantly regenerating Carter's body. It doesn't require nourishment or rest. But I've observed that sharing food is a pleasant social activity among humans, and I like participating and trying new things."

  They found a kind of food court in a busy area of the city, where mobs of Vietnamese people were stopping for lunch. Mary and Phos ordered some bánh mì sandwiches and coconut drinks and found a small empty table among the noisy crowds.

  Mary's bánh mì was overstuffed with pickled vegetables, so she picked some of them out before she ate. "You said you don't need rest either? So you don't sleep?"

  Phos took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with some coconut water. "I sleep the same way I eat. I don't need to, but I do it once in a while. Or I should say that it's Carter who sleeps and I just watch."

  "Have you dreamed?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "I wish I could."

  "You're not really missing anything," she said. "Sometimes, our dreams are not good things to see."

  "I know Carter's aren't."

  She laughed. "So, if you don't need to eat, then do you go to the bathroom?"

  He shook his head. "This body is highly efficient as long as my energy occupies it. It wastes nothing. I also don't sweat."

  "That's so unfair," Mary grumbled.

  He laughed.

  "If you don't sweat, then does that mean you don't cry?" she asked

  "I haven't tried that yet."

  "Why not?"

  "I haven't experienced something to cry about, I suppose," he said.

  "I see," she said. "It's possible you're like me. I can't cry."

  "I noticed that," he asked. "I've never seen you. Is that normal?"

  She shrugged. "I mean, I did a couple times when I was little. But not since then." The last time Mary had shed any form of tear was that one time she told Mom she hated her.

  "Not even that time?" he asked, nodding at her scar.

  Mary's hand went unconsciously to her neck. "No, not even then. You didn't see that happen?"

  "Apparently not, since I remember everything I hear and see. I was probably working on the other side of the planet," he said. "If I had been there, though, I would've done something to stop it."

  "Like what?" she asked. "You wouldn't have hurt Ba. Right?"

  "Of course not," he said. "But I would've done whatever I could to protect you."

  Mary blushed.

  As they ate and talked, some men set up a stage and sound equipment at the end of the food court. They apparently didn't know what they were doing very well, because when one of them stepped up to the microphone, his voice was so loud you couldn't understand what he was saying at all. After he left, a woman came up to the microphone and started singing with a terribly synthesized track. She sounded awful.

  "Ugh," Mary said. "I wish she'd stop."

  Phos chuckled. "Don't humans sing for fun?"

  "That isn't fun," she said. "That's a disaster."

  He looked at the singer. "It's fascinating to me, all the things you humans do for recreation. You sing and play instruments, play sports, climb mountains, dive in the ocean, act, play games, race. Oh, the races you have! Everything from horses and cars to goats and lawn mowers."

  "Lawn mower racing?" she asked. "There's such a thing?"

  "Apparently," he said. "It has a small but fiercely loyal following."

  "Huh," Mary said. "Lawn mower racing. Who would've thought?"

  "Exactly!" he said. "Humans come up with such amazing ways to amuse yourselves. You never cease to astound me."

  "We try," she joked. "So, you don't need to eat and you don't need to sleep. But you can translate. And you can heal, like you did for that boy at the hospital."

  He thought for a moment. "I wouldn't say I 'healed' him. I just addressed some bad energy that was inside him."

  "Bad energy?"

  He nodded. "Disease is energy just like anything else. But it's a detrimental kind. Human doctors use energy to treat it. I just did it more accurately."

  "That's so cool," she said. "Oh my gosh! You can heal all the kids in the cancer ward."

  He hesitated. "No, I can't."

  "Why not?" Mary asked. "Do you not have enough energy? What if you just healed some of them? Like, the ones that really need it."

  "I want to," he said. "But I'm not supposed to."

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "It's…complicated," he said. "I'm sorry I can't explain beyond that."

  Mary said nothing. There were kids who were sick and he had the ability to make them better. How complicated could it be?

  "Can I ask you something now?" he asked.

  "Okay," she said.

  "These human emotions are remarkable," he said. "I'm learning so much. But is it possible to turn them off?"

  "I don't think so," she said. "If there was a way, I'd like to know, too. What emotions have you had so far?"

  He thought for a moment. "Surprise. Confusion. Hurt."

  "I'm...sorry about that one," she said.

  "No need to apologize," he said. "Because not long after that, I experienced Happy."

  "Good." She smiled. "What about love? Have you experienced that yet?"

  He cocked his head to the side. He was doing that in a more natural way now, not so abrupt and robot-like. "I've been confused about that concept. Love."

  "How so?" she asked.

  "By my observations, I don't think 'love' is an emotion," he said. "It doesn't make sense to me."

  The awful singer finally stopped, but then a young Korean-pop-star-wannabe got on the stage and was worse. Why they were doing this bad concert during the lunch rush was a mystery to Mary.

  "Let's go," she said. "My ears are going to bleed."

  They tossed their empty sandwich wrappers in the trash and began walking down the street. It wasn't less noisy there, because people were walking everywhere. When Mary and Phos tried to cross the street, a man on a moped almost hit them.

  "Watch it!" Mary cried. "Man, I can't stand Vietnamese people."

  Phos wrinkled his brow. "Why?"

  She shrugged. "I mean, not all of them. But so many
of them are jerks. There's this lady who owns a convenience store, and she always rags on me about not knowing the language."

  "Why don't you learn it?" he asked.

  "I have enough trouble with one," she said. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an ugly language. Like that lady at the store? She sounds like an angry duck."

  He laughed. "That may be what she sounds like regardless of what she's speaking. But it's a really beautiful language. There are many great poems written in it."

  Mary shrugged. "The people still suck."

  Phos smiled. "Let's walk over here."

  She followed him, and they came to a massive lake. It was a little quieter there, which made the walk pleasant as they headed for an old temple nearby. Inside, they saw the statues of two women with their arms raised. From the way the display was arranged, they looked like they were important people.

  "Who are they?" Mary asked.

  "Hai Bà Trưng," he said. "The two Trung ladies. They were sisters and they were warriors. They fought for freedom against Chinese oppression around the first century. They're heroes."

  Mary stared at the statues. "They were Vietnamese? And they were girls?"

  "And queens," Phos added. "Vietnam wasn't called 'Vietnam' back then, but it was here before the Roman Empire was even established. It was a feudal system. There were kingdoms with Vietnamese kings, queens, lords, and ladies."

  Mary looked at him. "I never knew that. All I know about Vietnam is what Ba told me. About the war."

  Phos smiled. "You come from some rich heritages, Mary. You should never despise any of them."

  Mary looked back at the statues. Who would have ever thought that a pair of Vietnamese women had ever done something like battle against the Chinese empire?

  "How did you know about them?" Mary asked.

  "I don't have an age, remember?" he said. "I was around when everything happened."

  Mary couldn't tear her eyes from the statues. She was only able to when Phos reminded her that it was getting late at home and they had school in the morning. He translated them to the roof of her apartment building.

  "Thanks," she said. "Not just for the trip. But for telling me about those sisters. It really gives me some perspective on things. And perspective on me."

 

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