“Yanist-Glory?” he said, watching for reaction. Both men looked at each other with shock and then suspicion.
“Yanist-Glory!” Rico growled.
Hal turned Lon toward him, and sheer fury fired his eyes. “
“Bon,” Lon nodded at Hal, at the hatred he shared with this man. “
Hal turned to Rico and translated.
Londo watched as Rico raised his eyebrow and nodded at Londo. “Bon,” he jerked his head in agreement, and Lon smiled at him.
“Amis?” Hal asked, and Lon gave a definite nod.
“Amis.”
“Bon. Suis-moi.” And Hal took off into the sky. Londo laughed to see that Hal could fly, too, and followed. Rico trailed after them.
Lon was nine or ten. He’d been held captive for six or seven years; he didn’t know precisely.
Hal of course was Maximus, and Rico Carapella was the then-current and legendary Galactic Guardian of the Terran Sector. Hal took Lon to his own adoptive parents’ home to get him into a family atmosphere as soon as possible. While Mama Ruth fixed one of her wonderful, fully-Terran meals for them, Rico and Hal gently questioned Londo, recording. Rico finally found a mechanical translator that could handle French so he could question Lon directly.
They were horrified at the boy’s story. Rico used his ruby medallion to produce mugshots so they could confirm that it had indeed been the infamous Lectori who were in league with Emperor Yanist-Glory. He looked very grim as Lon nodded his head at the pictures between bites of pot roast and confirmed, “C’est eux.”
Lon told them about Kurt, and Hal called the authorities. When he got off the phone, he could assure Londo that Kurt was doing fine; he’d only fainted, a concept Lon wasn’t too sure about, but everyone assured him was not fatal. Kurt was already home with his family in Australia. Londo nodded, and they questioned him some more until he fell asleep on the table.
Hal put him to bed and stayed by his side all night in case he were to wake up and not know where he was.
The next day Hal, Rico and he flew to British Columbia to check out the saucer. It was no longer there, but evidence remained to prove that it had been. Rico took bags along to collect the broken plasti-glass, proof of Lectori manufacture. It could help a legal case if they could ever find Londo’s captors.
Hal assured Lon that although it might be impossible to get Yanist-Glory imprisoned, that they could certainly beef up their planetary security to make sure that no more hostages would be taken by the Lectori.
The courts eventually awarded Maximus custody of young Londo, since he was the only one strong enough to handle him. Custody became adoption, and Londo officially became Londo Rand. Hal had given him honest love and solid life values, and had taken him to scores of psychiatrists. For four years Lon had even moved to another planet where the advanced psychiatric professionals there took him through one phase of his healing.
On both worlds, entire books had been written about him, chronicling both his psychological problems as well as guesses and theories about what kinds of experiments had turned this Terran boy into a younger version of Maximus.
That it was a Yanist-Glory plot against Maximus, everyone who knew the entire story agreed. How terrible that he had chosen this innocent young boy to be part of his plan. How fortunate that Lon was smart enough and strong enough to get away, and that he had found himself a good home.
Somehow he turned out remarkably well-balanced, since now he was surrounded by people who loved him. But Maximus being, well, Maximus, was gone for long stretches at a time. Lon had been farmed out to Maximus’s own adoptive parents for a week or even two here and there as he was growing up. They’d been like family, but it just wasn’t a steady home life.
And they’d never found Maman.
The Terran Paranorm Network had searched through every inch of Canada, looking for her as well as his unknown father.
Lina stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Why in the world did they choose Canada? Just because you were found there?”
Londo swallowed a mouthful of hot biscuit as he sat in the moon-dappled shadows. “I spoke French. That and Lectori. I could remember Maman talking about going to Toronto.”
“So? Londo, let’s go to... Capetown next summer. Does that mean we live there?”
“Of course not.”
“Now, what did your mother say?”
“She said we were going to Toronto in the fall.”
“In the fall. Not that afternoon. In the fall, like it was going to be a long trip she was looking forward to. I can’t believe they’d just limit the search because of that.”
“Well, there was a lot more to it than—”
“Londo, you’re from France.”
“What? Where’d you get that?”
“I just know. In here.” She tapped her head. “Give me a map and I’ll point it out to you. In the Northwest... I mean Northeast, I always get my directions mixed up when I’m looking at the Eastern Hemisphere for some reason. Northeast of France. There’s a town with an ‘sch’ in the name—it must be close to the border of Germany. Lon, I’ll bet good money you came from somewhere within 50 miles of that place. Maybe you weren’t born there, but there are strong ties.”
“France.” He gave a little laugh. “If anyone else had said that to me, I’d say they were crazy.”
“Oh hell, I’ve had people calling me a crazy Sagittarian for years,” she said. By now, they were dining off her plates from home and a dinner of a breakfast stolen from an all-night Shoneys almost on the other side of the world. Lina used half a roll to point at him. “So the ParaNet searched through the wrong country...”
Londo continued to tell her things he’d told very, very few people as he dined on stolen chain restaurant food in a tropical paradise, unable to touch his lover.
Chapter 17
He truly did live in a world completely different from Lina’s. He was Valiant, megaparahero supreme. He had been kidnapped by aliens, adopted by Maximus, surrounded by other megas and paraheroes all his life. Londo had been immersed in world celebrity since the day Maximus found him. He’d saved sections of the globe time and time again, and he’d saved the entire earth itself on occasion. In all ways he was a being far superior to her.
God had certainly gone to a lot of trouble to set up this joke, teasing the old Muttbutt with this time with wonderful Londo, just to end it so soon. But involving Londo in His joke was going too far! That was unfair, God!
She wanted to stay in Lon’s shadow for just a few more precious hours before the universe took him away from her forever. A television image would never be real enough for her again. Seize the night, her selfish core whispered. Make up any excuse to keep him here.
It took sheer determination to shunt that urge. She knew she was selfish and egotistical—Dad had reminded her of that enough—but now she had to remember that she was a priest and had taken a vow to help. Poor Londo needed her to rise above herself. He needed—what?
There were things she did for clients, but those were so elementary... At least they were a start. Lina shook herself. The physical experience was over. No matter what she wished or how she tried to fool herself, it would never come again. What remained was the mental and spiritual side of life. That was the kind of help Londo needed now.
“Okay.” Lina stood and brushed off her hands. “I’m going to clear out what you’ve covered already. It’ll take a while. My question is: do we want to stay here tonight, or should we move somewhere else? That Terry Whatsherface—”
Londo felt drained and vulnerable after everything that had happened today. “Rhodes,” he corrected her as he rubbed his forehead. But a part of him was amazed that he was still here. And Lina didn’t hate him for being such a louse.
“—Is out there somewhere, still gunning for you. It’s been two days.”
“I know. But the powers are back now and we’re about three days out from the hotel, no fires lit. I can see her thugs way the hell down at the far end of the island. Looks like they’re leaving. They’ve given up. Good riddance. I’ll get them later. We’re safe enough.”
“Are you sure?”
He looked at her and through the cool night Lina could see the warmth in his eyes. “I like it here,” he said.
“Whatever you say, Londo. You’re the expert.” Had she ever trusted anyone as she did him? “So let’s clear stuff. Don’t worry; it won’t be all that painful. For me. You’ll be doing all the work.” She gave an evil laugh for atmosphere as she sat behind Lon on the blanket, straddling him.
“Lina—”
“Oh hush, it’s not that kind of technique. You just lean against me. You don’t have to worry about crushing me this way. I put my fingers—hope you don’t mind if they’re greasy—on the pressure points on your forehead here.” How odd; his skin no longer had any give to it. It was as if he were made of warm granite.
“I can’t even feel them.”
“You aren’t supposed to. It’s just to remind your brain where to store and how to process these memories. Okay, which are we supposed to start with?” she asked the air, as far as Lon was concerned. Apparently she received an answer. “Huh. Okay, I was wrong. We follow the sex trail first, then go back and do all that other stuff. Whatever.”
Lon stirred in her arms. He didn’t want—
“Be still.” Lina made sure her fingers were in the correct position on his forehead. Moon-cast shadows of the gently-blowing palms above them played across his face. “All right, pick one of those women you had problems with.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue. Let’s do this first one, and then you can decide if you want to continue, okay? It won’t be that bad... I don’t think. Now, visualize.”
She didn’t want to intrude, but a picture came up of a bottle blonde with squinty eyes and a phony smile. Was she jealous of her? “Think about the embarrassing moment, think about whatever it was with her that made you feel bad.”
“Okay.”
“Think about it, run it like a movie.”
“Do we really have to do this?”
“Yes you do. Shut up. Now run the movie again, this time in slow motion.”
He was still very, very tense. Then again, maybe the inhumanity of his skin made him appear that way. “Now backward.” Lina paused to let him think. “Now forward, but dress her in clown clothes.”
He shook his head but stayed with it. Still very tense. “Now forward, slow motion, but if it was inside...”
“It was.”
“Okay, make it outside now. In a frozen Arctic wilderness. With purple snow.”
“Huh.”
“Run it again, regular motion. Sky is, oh, pink polka-dots. Giant parakeets make rude comments.”
“Huh.” This time he had a little smile on his face. He was getting into it.
“Now run it as it was.”
Londo leaned against her with his eyes closed and then opened them, his mouth an astonished “O.” He could remember the event as clearly as ever, but now there was no embarrassment, no anxiety. “How’d you do that?”
“It’s all the remarkable science of neuro-linguistic programming. Bad experiences are filters that we can strip emotions from. Leave the memory, trash the filter. Ready to go on?”
“Eh... oui. Okay, I’m game.”
“All right. We’ll need to quantify some things next. How hot was it when...?”
They spent the night going through his traumas until they both fell asleep. Lon awoke with the morning sun in his eyes to find himself side by side with her: his arm around her, his hand on her bottom. She had huddled up to him for warmth.
He froze in terror. He’d awakened once in his life beside someone. That had resulted in a badly broken arm and ribs, a terrible accident just because he was what he was. Always since, he’d made sure of waking up alone.
Lina stirred when he scooted so quickly away. She smiled sleepily to see him. “Good morning.” Her expression changed to chagrin. “Good grief, morning breath.”
Lon had to chuckle at her as she covered her mouth with her hand.
She jumped up and made her way quickly to the pool. “I stink. I’m going to take a bath. I’d advise you to do the same.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll do that after you get through.”
“So you’re still going to be here when I return?” She began to pull off her gown and he turned away.
“I’ll be here.”
Well, that was an improvement at least. Lina had to think of something that would be an instant cure for him, but she couldn’t concentrate. She was too happy that she’d helped him and that he was staying.
As she bathed she began to sing softly, then louder as she forgot that anyone might be listening. Celebratory songs of life let her express her joy. She brushed her teeth and dove down to the bottom of the pool for a final rinse. When she put her hand on the bottom to commune with the earth, the planet was warm and motherly as always.
**I’m so happy,** she told it.
It answered, **Better things coming, worse things coming. Tests ahead.**
**I don’t care,** she told Earth. **I’ll be happy right now, right this minute, with what I have. I don’t dare expect any more.** And then it was time to come up for air. She ported two towels from home for herself. Her last two she left for him at the edge of the pool.
Tucking the one around herself, she let it ride low on her breasts just to bedevil him and wrapped her hair up in the other one. “Next,” she said as they passed each other. Good, he hadn’t missed the cleavage.
Lina kept her back turned to him in respect for his need for privacy. She dressed while he was in the pool, porting in one of her dozen Star Trek tee shirts, cutoffs and finally a change of underwear—her laciest, she realized ruefully. Not that anyone would ever see them. Something had to be done about Londo. She folded her chemise carefully and put it on the sand. If he still wanted it, he could have it.
Lon seemed as if he were going to take a while. She gritted her teeth and then drummed up her courage, concentrating for a long, long time—and ported herself to the beach. Another try, another long visualization... No, wait, not that way. Okay, that would do it. Back to the clearing.
Now she practiced porting around the area making sure that she took her time with each attempt. She ran a psychic and physical scan of herself after each port to check that everything was where it was supposed to be, colors were true, that her butt didn’t arrive on backward. It took a lot of concentration, focused attunement to her body, but she figured that as time went on she’d get better at it.
And her practice gave her an idea.
Lina looked up just in time to see Londo descend from above the treetops. She’d thought he was still in the pool, but here he was flying, flying up close, actually flying as naturally as a cloud travels the sky! And carrying bananas and a frying pan and a full basket of groceries. He hung in midair before he dropped gracefully to the sand: an angel descending to the earth on invisible wings of glory.
“Breakfast,” the angel told her. “I stole a few things from the estate west of here. I don’t think they’ll mind. I believe I owe you a dinner.”
As she watched, awestruck, he gathered firewood and lit it just by blowing on it, then produced enough from the basket to prepare fried eggs and toast with marmalade. There was orange juice and small juice glasses to go along with everything. He’d forgotten napkins, but Lina ported in some from home. She took the bananas and added brown sugar and cinnamon to the pan to make fried bananas as a decadent dessert.
“Very nice,” Londo said with a small smile as she finished. He washed his hands in the pool and came back in time to watch her practice more porting as he smoothed out his still-damp hair with the comb that he slipped back into his vest.
“Valiant After the Bath,” Lina decid
ed the painting of the event would be. Her heart stopped for a second. He certainly looked god-like, just as he appeared on CNN every night. Good lord, this was Valiant! She was just a norm! Remember that!
She startled to notice him watching her.
“What’s wrong?” Lon saw the look in her eyes. “Did you port okay?”
Sheepishly, she admitted, “You’re Valiant now, not Londo.”
“Well, it’s true we’ve never been seen together, but—”
“I’ve been thinking,” she interrupted before he could start his arguments again. Before anything, she had to get this out. “You need a training program.”
“A what?”
“Wait, wait. I’m jumping ahead of myself. Londo, are you still telepathic? Now that your other powers have returned?”
**Can you hear me?**
“Okay, you are. So here’s what we do. Recalibrate the double feedback loop system. See how far that takes us. Wing it from there with whatever comes up, a little at a time. Set a goal, shoot for it, and if we miss, we try again.”
“I am not going to risk hurting you.”
“So don’t. We just recalibrate and take it one—sure—step at a time. Very slowly. Keep recalibrating if we must. I think it could work. I think we could get you to the point that you could go all the way with someone, a para, but maybe just another mega. I don’t know. If we hit a snag we stop, see what happened and then figure where to go from there.”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of this? Or are you just trying to back away?”
When he looked at her, the expression on his face was unreadable. “Voyons donc, the first time we did the double-feedback we made mistakes. That was fine then. Now those mistakes could kill you in an instant.”
“So we take it slower this time. We’re good at the double-loop now, Lon. I’m game. How about you?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
But he paused. He paused! Lina knew she saw it. Maybe she was getting through.
“Lina. What do you get out of it?”
“What do you mean?”
Touch of Danger (Three Worlds) Page 27