Touch of Danger (Three Worlds)

by Strickland, Carol A.

  “Something stuck?” Londo asked, and she nodded. “Here, let me try.” He touched her back.

  Lina flinched as if he’d shocked her with a live wire. “Ow! Yes, that’s it. I think you just drove it in deeper.”

  “Pardon! I’m not used to this level of strength yet. You’re going to have to... give me access.” He paused. “Oh hell, I won’t look.”

  She waited a second and then turned her back to him. She slipped the tiny straps off her shoulders and eased the chemise down in front so that it cleared her back.

  Lon brushed her long auburn hair out of the way. It was thick and ropy and just a little frizzed, as if the curl were natural. She hadn’t had a chance to brush it since it dried. “Voici, here it is,” he said. “Hang on.” He picked at the sliver of glass, about four inches above her waist. She held herself stiff and trembling. “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can. Did I tell you yet that you’re very pretty?”

  “Very f-funny,” she said through gritted teeth. “I believe you had just gotten off-subject so you w-wouldn’t have to tell me how you came to be here in your particular condition.”

  “Got it. Whups, it’s bleeding. Let me apply pressure for a minute and then you can cover up.” He passed the sliver to her for her inspection and tried to peer over her clenched shoulders before he remembered that he’d promised not to. “Where was I?”

  “T-Terry Whatsherface.”

  “Ah oui. Like I said, I ran into Terry Rhodes. But she was waiting for me with a trap and about a hundred armed mercenaries. I’m usually very careful, especially when it comes to Terry—she’s damned crafty—but I didn’t even notice most of the bastards until it was too late. They sucker-blasted me with some über-bazooka, and suddenly I’m losing power and on the run, fast as I can. I even had my ParaNet cell out to signal for help, but the gun disintegrated it—and made a mess of my Legion com-ring as well. It was sheer luck that I managed to get away. I don’t know what she thinks she can get out of me this time. I mean, my powers will return. It’s just a lucky coincidence that I happened to see you before they gave out completely.”

  “So everything’s out except your v-vision?”

  “Mm,” he growled a positive response. “In an emergency you use what you’ve got. I looked everywhere for someplace to get myself together, call for help. I wandered around the empty hotel pretty damn dazed until it felt like something was going to happen. Then I saw the fire and then I saw you—”

  “And you came running to my rescue. Thanks.” As soon as he released his fingers from her back, Lina scooted away. She paused as she resecured her chemise. “I wouldn’t put much into that coincidence theory of yours, though. Well, from your point of view finding some bystander is a fluke, but from mine it was the difference between life and death. Besides, there’s no such thing as coincidence. Maybe you should reexamine the situation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She fluffed out her hair, trying to get rid of more dust and grit as she turned back to him. Londo reminded himself to keep his eyes on her face, not on what were shifting around, pressing against the bodice of her nightgown.

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  Almost offhandedly she began to pick out little pieces of glass from her arms. How could someone be so insensitive to pain? Londo had relearned today all about hurting. He didn’t think he would need another lesson for the rest of his life.

  And yet Lina continued to peel off the slivers with nary a wince. “All the tourists and workers disappearing from the hotel but me. Ouch.”

  That “ouch” made him feel better. Perhaps he hadn’t acted like a baby in front of a beautiful woman after all. Would she mind if he ran his hands up her legs to help her look for glass shards? Images began to fill his mind about just how helpful he could be. Just lendin’ a neighborly hand, ma’am. He wore a cowboy hat, boots with spurs, and nothing else. She wore her tiny white nightie that—oops!—somehow fell down around her ankles....

  Lina continued, “I’m here because I just happened to win a vacation. From people recommended to me by clients that I’ve only started seeing within the last six weeks. And then when the hotel’s about to blow to smithereens, poof! There you are.” She shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know what it all means, but it certainly sounds like something’s up. Oww.” She gingerly touched the back of her head at that swelling.

  Immediately Londo returned to the real world. “Let me see,” he said and examined the site. It swelled bigger than before. He didn’t like the way it looked, but then he never liked injuries of any kind. Norms shouldn’t get injured. They died all too easily. He thrust two fingers in front of her face. “How many?”

  “Two.”

  “Are they blurred? Do you feel dizzy?”

  “What, you think I’ve got a concussion?”

  “Just being cautious,” he told her. Concussions were tricky things. He’d have to keep an eye on her.

  “I don’t think it’s a concussion,” Lina said. “My guides are giving me the thumbs up.”

  “Guides. Where’d they get their medical degrees?” Londo leaned back and picked at his clothes, examining blue bruised patches on his own skin. Bruises—him! He lifted the shoulder of his shirt to scowl at the swollen, miscolored mass that used to be a good shoulder. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like being a norm.

  Lina tilted her head as if listening to someone not there. “They say they attended Wattsamotta U.”

  That made Londo laugh despite himself. “Them and Bullwinkle, I get it. They really say that?”

  “No, I just made that up.” She sat back on her heels, plucking the last of the bigger pieces of glass off her legs. “I’m done,” she announced, watching him as he flexed his arm and rotated it experimentally. “How are you feeling?”

  “Ahem. Ben, it seems I owe you an apology—a big apology. I guess snakes and lizard lips work after all. It feels almost as good as new.”

  “I take it we need to be moving along. But at the next rest stop I’ll see if I can’t do more. I’ll heal up some of those cuts.” She gestured at his face.

  Londo ran a tentative touch over his face and came away with dirt, bits of leaves and spider webs... and grainy bits of dried blood. “I’m bleeding.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before determinedly clamping it shut. Still, the expression he turned on Lina revealed his inner questions.

  “You were,” Lina reassured him. “Nothing’s bleeding any more as far as I can tell. It’ll wash off, if we can find some water.”

  “D’accord. I’m just not used to being a norm, if you’ll excuse the expression. Which way?”

  “How should I know?”

  “You’re the one with the guides.”

  “And you’re the one with the para-vision. All my guides tell me is to move north, north, north, and I have no idea which direction that is.”

  “North is that way,” Londo pointed as he stood up uncertainly before he found his balance. He reached down to pull her up but she ignored his hand and stood on her own. “And I meant it when I said you were pretty—very pretty. That’s a nice dress, too. A little thin, even for this climate, non?”

  Lina knew that she’d started to blush and tried to hold her arms nonchalantly to cover herself. “Perhaps I should have stopped and changed into something more formal back at the hotel.”

  “T’inquiète pas; don’t worry about it,” he said. He took a sighting through the forest for direction, pausing as he looked to left and right as if considering terrorist positions. He turned back to her and reached behind himself for her to take his hand.

  Summoning as much nonchalance as she could, Lina said, “I think we’ll need both our hands to get through this.”

  With a nod, he led the way.

  Chapter 3

  They kept to the deep forest now. Sometimes they had to force their way through thick brush that slapped at them as they squeezed by. Now and then a wide canopy of huge, densely-rooted banyan trees let so little grow
ing light through that the forest floor cleared enough for them to run. Skitterings through the humus hinted at the large rat population, and Lina wished even one of her cats were along to scare the critters off. Terrorists and her cats? She took it back. At least the cats were back home and safe. Unlike her.

  “There’s steady traffic on all the footpaths I can see,” Londo reported. “Someone should charge a toll.”

  They had no choice but to keep to the forest. At last the two of them came upon a stream. Londo pronounced it reasonably safe, and Lina checked its vibes to see what “reasonably” was; she’d never had to check anything like that before. She saw “reasonably” rather graphically illustrated in her focused imagination: don’t drink too much or you’ll regret it a few hours later. Best not to drink any, but they needed to rehydrate. So they drank a little and cleaned up as much as they could, but it was quick and Londo insisted that they be off to put as much space between themselves and danger as possible.

  From then on they stopped briefly whenever they came to water, but almost not long enough to catch their breath. Lon kept track of the increasing patrols to either side of them on the paths. Finally around midmorning they came to a little hollow in the hills. Lina, who’d set her inner antenna toward looking for water, peered around determinedly.

  “I know it’s here somewhere,” she said. She’d psychically opened herself so much for so long that the world seemed faintly unreal and immaterial, although she could still count Lon’s fingers whenever he held them up for her. She pointed. “There. Fresh water, and it’s clean. Drink your fill.”

  Londo peered at the small spring. “You’re right,” he said after a few moments. “Pure water. You’d probably pay four dollars for a bottle of this back home. Let’s take a break.”

  “Good.” Lina collapsed onto the moss next to the stream and scooped her hands in for a drink. She waited until Londo had drunk, too, and then immersed her arms up past the elbows. Refreshing coolness washed through her. She directed the waste energies from the healing down into the earth, leaving herself unburdened and free. With a sigh of relief she splashed water on her sweaty face, then glanced around.

  Londo was looking at something in the trees: brown, over-ripe bananas that might have been good a week ago, but definitely weren’t now. He scouted the area and then made a satisfied sound as he disappeared behind some undergrowth.

  A spindly coconut palm tree suddenly swayed dangerously—then swayed again. And again. At last a coconut fell and the sound of impact included a sharp crack. Holding three pieces of mostly shell, Londo returned in triumph.

  “Your brunch, mademoiselle.” He offered one of the larger pieces to her across his forearm like a fancy waiter displaying a wine bottle.

  “Thanks.” She eyed it. The central portion was nestled in a thick and unappetizing nest of shaggy fibers. “How do you eat it?”

  He made a noncommittal sound and examined his prize critically as she looked around for suitable rocks. Lina put the coconut piece on top of a flat one and hit it with a smaller stone until she could pry the meat from the rest. “You may want to wash it first,” she suggested as she handed it to Londo.

  “Thanks,” he said and passed her the other pieces. “What about the brown stuff?” It had a hard membrane around it.

  “I have no idea. I’m used to this coming shredded in little plastic bags.”

  He nodded and then dipped his in the spring before trying it. “Not too great,” he pronounced. “Tastes like... like a macadamia nut on a bad day.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “It doesn’t taste at all like coconut. Hm, coco-nut. Pretend it’s just another kind of nut, and it’ll taste all right. It’s calories.”

  He watched her as she hit the other pieces, and Lina got the distinct, uncomfortable impression that he was not appreciating her culinary technique. In fact, it seemed to her... The phrase “undressing her with his eyes” suddenly took on a new meaning. She whirled on him.

  “Are you using your para-vision on me?” she demanded.

  He reared back. “Non,” he said, and it seemed an honest answer. “No, sorry. I didn’t realize I was staring. You just happen to be a very beautiful girl.”

  But his cheeks flushed. He must have been using his imagination—almost as bad.

  “And of course you’re catching me on a good day,” Lina said. She flipped a sweaty strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t tell me that it’s tr—” She caught herself. Just because he upset her didn’t mean that she had to be petty and upset him in return. “How does the coast look? How many are out there?”

  Her next strike freed a good piece of coconut. She sat back to try it. It tasted... not at all like coconut. Was it even ripe? How did you tell?

  It did taste like a nut, but it held the slightest of hints that maybe with some processing it could taste like coconut. It needed to be shredded with lots of sugar. And maybe some chocolate and real nuts and a big dollop of whipped cream with some frozen vanilla yogurt, followed by a nice chilled vegetable of some kind to cut it all. With some iced tea. Or a big glass of anything wet and cold.

  Londo looked for terrorists through the dense woods. “There are enough around.” He shrugged his head as if so what, he couldn’t do anything to change things. He’d sat down next to her. She eased away as casually as she could.

  Londo didn’t notice. “They seem to be covering this section of the island with all due speed, but they aren’t leaving the paths. They should do that soon.”

  At that Lina put down her coconut and moved back to him to use the time to finish up on his shoulder. He watched her without comment. It only took a few minutes; there was only mild swelling. He’d been healing naturally for all the time they’d been traveling, and even as a norm his healing rate was astounding.

  “Any reason why you think so?” she asked as she worked.

  “It’s what I’d do. They won’t be able to travel in large groups. I should be able to handle it if we run into any of them.”

  “Without powers?”

  He reared back and looked insulted. “I do have some skills besides my powers,” he said.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “That’s nice to know. Is there anything you can teach quickly? I’d hate to wind up being the red shirt in this episode.”

  “Red shirt? What are you talking about?”

  “Star Trek. Classic Trek—original series.” She shook her arms out after she finished the shoulder. “Hold on a sec while I get your face.” She positioned her hands just an inch above the skin there.

  He made a wry mouth. “Okay, thanks. Star Trek. Sorry, I’ve heard of it, but never seen it. I mean, I’ve seen real starships.”

  She tried to imagine such a thing, but then shook her head in defeat. “Well, anyway. There was usually an extra security person—security people wore red shirts—and by the end of the episode they were almost always dead, leaving the stars alive to go on to the next episode. The legend of the red shirt, the expendable character. I’m not keen on being one here.”

  “I’ll keep you alive.”

  “Thanks.” She moved to the spring to dip her forearms again and shook them out afterward. When she came back she sat an arm’s length away from Londo. “Do we have any kind of real goal? Or are we just staying one step ahead of the bad guys?”

  Londo put down his coconut. “We’re going to outdistance them. Maybe they’ll think that I managed to get off the island, and they’ll give up looking. Maybe they’ll narrow the search and we can slip by.” He cocked his head the other way. “And maybe my powers will come back soon and we can leave ‘em behind in the dust.”

  “I like that one best. Let me check something.”

  Her green eyes unfocused and her mouth screwed into a puzzled frown. “Aw, come on,” she urged someone. “It’s not that hard a question. When?” She blinked out of it and slapped at a mosquito. “Sorry. I was hoping to get a little information from my guides, but they’re being obtuse again. All I asked wa
s when were your powers coming back, and they hand me a bunch of symbology: circles and triangles and starbursts, and nothing looked like a clock to me.”

  “Are they usually like this?”

  She talked around a new bite of coconut. “Not really. But they have their moods, although they say it’s their reasons. I suppose that when I look back, if... when we get out of this, I’ll say, oh yes, that triangle means that it was... oh, three o’clock for the three sides of the triangle, when your powers returned. But it sure would help if they’d just show me a clock. They’ll usually do something like that.”

  “It still seems quite handy.”

  “Oh it is, it is. I like channeling. My guides are fun, and they’ve got senses of humor. It’s nice to know that the Infinite has a sense of humor, you know? That it’s all not as serious as they’d have us believe back in Sunday School.”

  “Guides.” Londo rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ll have to ask Chimrin if we ever get back.”

  “When,” Lina said firmly. “Be positive; set your future.”

  “When we get back.” Londo nodded to her. “Chim’s the telepath I know. I’ll have to ask her if she’s got guides, too.”

  “Everyone’s got guides,” Lina said. “You just have to learn how to listen to them.”

  “How did you?”

  “My dad says I was always talking to someone he couldn’t see,” Lina said. She didn’t mention that he always accompanied that comment with a hard slap to her face. “Of course he says that I was just doing it to draw attention to myself. He made me stop. But when I got involved with the New Age people, they actually had classes in it. You can learn how to channel real quick. Practice makes you good at it.”

  “You seem very good.”

  “I practice. I do this kind of stuff on the side.”

  “The side of what?”

  “My regular paycheck comes from commercial art. But every now and then people ask for a reading.”

  “And because you’re a priest, you can’t say no.”