“My what!” Miranda nearly fell over in surprise. She briefly wondered what a pairbond was, while at the same time she knew.
The healer offered her a wry grin, “You didn't even notice the formation of a pairbond? Miranda, you need to pay more attention to what's going on and less to what's chasing you. Promise me something. If you get back to Earth, please stop and smell the roses for me. I never took the time while I had the chance, and there aren't any roses here.”
Miranda nodded, “I'll promise if you'll tell me your name.”
The healer cocked her head at Miranda, and offered a confused look, “Haven't I already told you?”
“No, over the course of things it never came up.” Miranda answered, hoping the question wasn't another evasion.
“Okay, well, It's Ellen, though I can barely believe it hasn't come up.”
“I was pretty shocked the first time someone had mentioned the possibility to me,” Miranda offered a friendly smile, “Pleased to meet you Ellen, and I hope to see you again.” Then before Ellen could change her mind about Miranda's fitness, Miranda shot her mind out, latched onto a destination and teleported away.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ben was roused by the staccato sound of someone knocking on his door. He pulled a pillow over his ears and shut it out. He and Tina had stayed up late, playing cards and talking. He had impressed her with his stories of back home where nobody had or used telepathy. She had plied him with cocoa and let him win most hands just to keep him talking. The bed began to rock gently beneath Ben. He stirred against the vibration, and against the rhythmic rumbling coming from the bedroom door.
“What!”
“Someone is at the door, Ben.” Aunt Bea chirped.
Ben flung his pillow at the nearest speaker cursing the way Aunt Bea always answered him with that infectiously cheerful chirp. “Do you always have to sound so blasted cheerful!”
“No sir,” Aunt Bea answered with a monotonal blip.
Ben made a fair attempt at scrubbing the features from his face in frustration, “Who's at the door?”
“Niri Everett, Ben she appears to be quite agitated.”
“Bea, was I supposed to meet with her this morning?”
“No specific meeting was arranged, and it is unclear whether her dismissal yesterday constituted being relieved from your implied schedule. I have no clear answer.” Aunt Bea growled in an imitation of Ben's irritation.
“Knock that attitude off, there has got to be a middle ground, and if you have no clear answer the reply, 'I don't know,' will suffice.” Ben climbed out of bed and wrapped his blankets around himself to answer the door. He stepped up to the sensor and the door slid open. Ben had to dodge Niri's fist as she began to follow through on a knock.
“Ben, it’s about time!” Niri blustered her way into the room past him.
“Come on in.” Ben invited after the fact.
“What in the hell did you say to her!”
“To who?”
“Tina! She didn't show up for exercises this morning! I went looking for her and discovered her resignation from the program on my desk. Then I started checking around for her. Gene's assistant said she was meeting with Gene. What did you say to that poor girl! If you've terrorized her into quitting so help me I will...”
A grin formed on Ben's mouth, “I didn't terrorize her, I encouraged her.”
“To quit?” Niri asked in a tone exactly between righteous anger and total confusion.
“To be whatever she wanted to be, from her reaction it seemed like no one around her has done very much of that. You've all done a wonderful job of beating into her head that she wasn't as capable without superpowers, by trying to help her function as though she had them, but did anybody think to tell her she was perfectly all right just the way she was?” Ben growled down at Niri, enjoying the fact that he finally had the upper hand on somebody around there. Niri stared up into his face with her mouth hanging open, just the grunting side of speechlessness. Ben enjoyed seeing her speechless, even briefly.
Niri shook herself with a jolt, “I didn't realize that there was a problem. I just assumed that the situation would correct itself when she got her powers.”
“Did it occur to you that she might never get them? Did you stop to consider what would happen if she never got them?
“No, but..”
“I'm sorry, but there aren't really any adequate 'buts' for that situation. You all walk around here with your superior airs because you are telepathic and can read peoples' minds. Tina proves you aren't superior to the poor non-telepaths. Despite your peep show in other people’s brains, you guys don't have any more insights on human nature than the rest of us!”
“You're right of course. I owe you an apology. Now I see why you are a rush job, it isn't your Talent. It's much deeper,” Niri sighed and picked at her bottom lip. “There's not much we can go into until you're ready to work on the amps again. I guess I'll send you on over to learn the emergency medical equipment from Gene, and I'll talk to Tina and see if she'd be willing to go over the factor kitpacks with you.”
“That's swell, but for now I'm going back to bed. I had a long, and ultimately productive night last night and I'm not ready to get up yet.” Ben shooed Niri out the door with little difficulty. After it sealed behind her Ben crawled back into bed, “Bea, I don't want to be disturbed until I have decided I'm ready to get up. Is that clear?”
“Noted, and implemented.”
Ben snuggled back down into his pillow and was snoring before Niri had managed to pull herself together in the hall and leave.
Ben stirred into consciousness slowly, sluggishly. At first he tried to talk himself into believing he was still unconscious just so he wouldn't have to get out of bed. It didn't work. His thoughts began to throttle up behind his eyelids, teasing him about the things he could probably look forward to once he finally did admit to consciousness. His mind replayed Niri's scolding from earlier, and the way it had turned his way quickly.
The memory of the confrontation left Ben feeling more in control of himself and less dependent on the whims of those around him. He tossed back the blankets and swept his feet to the floor in a single motion. His toes curled and uncurled appreciatively in the thick cut pile carpeting. Ben stretched his arms towards the ceiling and rotated his head around on his neck. A yawn closed his eyes. When they opened he noticed a flashing light on the media screen.
Ben rose and walked over to the screen, up close the flashing light resolved itself into the stacked words, “messages waiting.” Ben blinked at them, and felt his renewed confidence waver. He put off the bad news by deciding to dress first. He opened the closet and found a fresh white shirt and a khaki pair of slacks. He dressed and then searched the room for his shoes. They were nowhere to be found.
“Bea, where are my shoes?” Ben finally asked.
“Are you lifting your do not disturb order?”
“Not until I'm dressed, including shoes, and I've listened to my messages and had some coffee.” Ben growled. A drawer beneath his bed rolled out revealing a selection of shoes, including the pair he had been wearing. Ben chose a pair of canvas tennis shoes which matched the pants.
“You, have three messages. Niri Everett left a message instructing you to report to Gene at your earliest convenience. Daniel Mann left a message indicating he would contact you later. Tina Harvey left a message thanking you for the talk and inquiring about lunch. Do you wish to hear the taped messages?” Aunt Bea's voice was supplemented with a digital readout on the media screen.
“No, I'm going to get a cup of coffee.”
“Unnecessary, how do you drink it?”
“Black, and fresh,” Ben answered. A small cupboard next to the media screen opened and the scent of fresh coffee came pouring out.
Ben explored the cupboard and fished out the steaming cup of coffee. He sat on the edge of his bed and drank it. He was grateful for the assistance that the computer prog
ram provided, until he reached the bottom of the coffee cup. Then he was hit by a twinge of homesickness, it was the point in the day when he would feed his fish.
“Are you ready to lift your do not disturb order?”
“Yeah, sure.” With those two words the sound of knocking emanated from the door. “Who's that Bea?”
“Tina Harvey.”
“Let her in, please.” Ben replaced the coffee cup in the cupboard and closed the door. He turned to face Tina's smile. He started to say hello but was stopped by a sudden hug from Tina. “Hi, what was that for?”
“It's a thank you! Gene, just made me his new assistant.” Tina answered. Her broad grin contrasted with the tears streaming down her face. “He said that he didn't see any reason why I couldn't become a doctor just like him, someday. Then he gave me the basic skills test. He looked at my score for a like a minute. Then he brought up my school records. He got a surprised look when he read them. Then he asked if I would mind starting as his assistant this afternoon.”
Ben scratched his head, vaguely remembering Niri mentioning talking to Gene's assistant. “Didn't he already have one?”
“Yeah! That's why I'm so excited! He told her to report back to the secretarial pool and gave me her desk.”
“Congratulations. How long have you been waiting at my door?”
“Not long, Aunt Bea paged me when you woke up, and I took a transport booth here.”
Ben glared at the media screen realizing why Bea had asked repeatedly if he had lifted the do not disturb order. “So other than that, what's up?”
“How about an early lunch, or a late brunch?”
Ben's stomach answered her with a growlingly loud yes.
“Then it's set.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 7
All Mucked Up
------------------------------------
Miranda was bone weary when she awoke. She didn't know how long she it had been since she dozed off. However long it had been was too long. She couldn't afford to let down her guard. This world was full of the stale taint of the dark ones. She could taste the heavy funk of their presence with her every breath. Not that the dingy muck of the place didn't say the same. Miranda reached out with her mind to make sure that there weren't any dark ones near enough to sense her movement.
When surprisingly Miranda didn't sense any, she carefully rose, sliding upwards holding her back to the tree she leaned against. Carefully, Miranda contorted her way through the dense nest of foliage surrounding the tree. Along the way thorns tried to scratch at her, but she carefully extricated herself without ripping her outfit. She had no intention of letting circumstances ruin this one if she could in any way help it.
Once freed of her thorny refuge Miranda fished her stout walking stick from where she had shoved it in the bushes. It was a relief to have it to lean on. She hadn't been this tired in a long time. She almost didn't care if she found Ben anymore, just so long as she found a place where she could rest for longer than a few breaths. That was her motivation to get moving. Inside Miranda knew she couldn't possibly find such a place if she didn't get moving towards finding it.
Slowly, she made her way through the dense vegetation, the sight of the town a short distance ahead relieved Miranda to no end. She had long since tired of shlogging through swampland. This world, the forgotten colony of an Earth fallen back into the dark ages, was almost wet enough that swimming was more effective than walking. Miranda hated swimming, but shlogging through the tepid muck and quicksand was worse.
The town was built on an artificial dike of dry land surrounded by a wide canal moat. Miranda doubted that the town's people were any friendlier than the ones in the last town, but she didn't really care all she could see was the prospect of dry land, and a hot bath to soothe aching muscles. Miranda could sense the residual pallor of dark subjugation over the town, but after countless days of swamp hopping and dozing while standing, even the idea of recapture sounded better than another night in the mires.
Miranda climbed an embankment to reach the gate house on her side of the bridge across the moat, totally unwilling to cross through the water. She had learned the hard way that any expanse of open water such as the moat quickly filled with nasty finger sized flesh eating creatures. They were far too good at squirming through any opening in her clothing just to get at her. Miranda's flesh wasn't exactly palatable to them, but it took a mouthful apiece for them to realize it. She leaned heavily on her walking stick, and vaulting pole, to manage the last few steep feet up the steep embankment.
The gate guard eyed her with suspicion, “What is your business?”
“I'm looking for work.”
“We have enough wenches around here shove off!”
“I am not a simple wench! I am quite literate, and am cheap with my service.” Miranda growled revealing a pile of blank paper in her knapsack as proof.
“I'm supposed to believe you are a cheap scribe? You, a woman!”
“Why not, I crossed the swamp alone? Call your town librarian if you need proof. I'll read anything he's got!”
It had taken Miranda an entire week to work out the pretense of scribing in the last town, but by then she had already lost too much credibility fumbling for a place in their society. She had been driven out with very little to show for the attempt. The gate guard looked as though he was prepared to turn her away without the requested test, which went entirely against custom.
She quickly begged, “I would ask at least a night's respite from my travels, just a brief sanctuary.”
He stared at her as though her plea meant nothing to him. She could see, sense and hear him coming rapidly to the decision to turn her away. The only thing that stopped him was the distraction value of a child's pattering trot across the bridge.
The small child, dressed in the muggy brown common to most clothing on this world, trotted directly up to the guard. The guard bent double so the child could whisper in his ear. When he stood, it was with a sour face. “I have been instructed to let you pass. You are to follow this boy to the Witch.” he held his hand out for her to turn over her staff, motioning to a rack filled with similar articles.
Miranda handed it over, knowing that it was far from the sacrifice the guard thought it to be. Then she followed the child across the bridge into the village. The village consisted of stone and thatch houses built on the stone surfaced flat top of the dike. Some of the houses stood on smaller mounds of soil and stone above the standard surface level. One stood almost twice as high as any of the others. It was larger and had a set of ten steps leading up its mound to the doorway. The messenger boy led her directly into that house, then promptly retreated.
“Ahh, Miranda, how have you kept yourself?” an asexual voice rasped from the dark recesses of the house. Miranda went instantly on guard, driving back exhaustion with a massive surge of adrenaline. At the time she had trouble thinking of friends that both knew her name and owned the ability to cross from world to world.
Her posture must have revealed her distrust because the owner of the voice cleared their throat and spoke again, “Calm yourself little one, it’s me. I'm sorry my voice isn't recognizable, but I am somewhat ill at the moment. All the damn rain will be the death of me! I wish I could just head home to Altan, but alas I cannot if I want to continue breathing.” The face of the old woman from the desert came briefly into the light of a lamp, tying up nicely the loose strings of recognition for Miranda.
Miranda shot forward and wrapped her arms around the woman in an embrace which revealed to Miranda the full stock of the woman's ill health. Despite the unending humidity, the woman's body felt like a dry frail husk compared to how she seemed in the desert. The tepid air contrasted briskly with the woman's raging fever. I was almost like the woman was a tiny piece of the desert transported to this soggy world.
“What happened to you?” Miranda bleated in concern.
“I managed to poison myself out of my o
wn curiosity, but I assure you I am on the mend. You should have seen me just a few days ago. It seemed Death was ready to turn over his job to me in a show of professional courtesy. Thankfully I found the antidote just barely before the poison got me. Leave it to irony that it would have to be found on this sludge-pot of a world.” The woman coughed out.
“You look like somebody’s breakfast revisited. No, wait, that is exaggerating how bad puke can look,” Miranda plunked her knapsack down on the floor. “So, if you only just arrived how did you get these folk to let you in? Corollary to that, why do they call you the witch?”
“Easy, I'm the one that managed the not insignificant trick of driving the dark off this world, by means of what the natives saw as magic. In the depths of their gratitude they took me in a week ago when I showed up leaning on death's door jamb. I am a local mythic hero! Unfortunately I'd better cash in on it quickly because their civilization is floundering. The dark screwed their society up big time.”
“Yeah, I noticed in the last town that this place makes what I know of the dark ages look like an incandescent light bulb.”
“A very wet light bulb.” The woman choked out a laugh. “So have you found Ben?”
“No, not really, just some alternate possibilities of who he could have become. One of them tried to kill me.”
“Without you telling him to?” The woman started coughing up a fit, to the point of scaring Miranda.
“Do you have any hot water? A friend, from Relevar, gave me some herbs, for teas. At least one of them should be good for coughs.” Miranda snatched up her knapsack and began going through the paper packets.
“That's right, let me see them. You can go ask Tiry, the boy, to bring some boiling water.” The woman managed between gasps.
Miranda tossed the woman the bag and ducked outside as she was told. By the time Miranda returned with the water, the woman had finished measuring out the herbs from the packets she wanted into a small tin cup, and she had replaced the resealed packets into Miranda's bag. Miranda poured the boiling water over the powdered herbs and sat near the woman.
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