It happened so quickly Ben didn't even have a chance to get a word out. Not that he would have really tried, his brain had switched gears. He was fixating on Miranda. She was awake, and he would be able to talk to her soon. Inside he was so full of things to say, but even the thought of saying them, to her, left his mouth too dry to speak.
“We could go out for something too,” Angela offered.
Ben shook himself. He'd forgotten she was here. “I ate before I stopped by this morning.”
“Are we okay now?” She asked softly.
“What do you mean?” Ben turned to face Angela.
“You aren't saying that just to avoid me are you? Daniel has told me about how you feel. He likes you, considers you a friend. Despite how he presents himself he doesn’t necessarily like everyone.” Angela asked looking down at the floor rather than Ben's face. She seemed almost afraid to hear his answer.
Ben felt odd seeing Angela, as someone almost vulnerable. It was the first hint he had seen of her actually being related to poor neurotic Tina. “No, I really did eat, and yes I think we will be okay. Shouldn't you be able to tell?” Ben tried to sound casual, a hard thing given the question.
Angela stiffened, taking up her disguise of invulnerability once again, “Well, other than the fact that the suppresser is doing its work, you have reached the point where the only way I could read you without your permission would be rather uncomfortable for one or both of us.”
It instantly occurred to Ben that Tina could most likely still read him, and it took a conscientious effort on his part not to point that out to Angela. Rubbing her nose in what he perceived were her faults was definitely not what she was asking for right now. “The real trouble I have isn't with you. It's with the way no one around here wants to tell me what's going on,” Ben finally said.
“That is ironically funny,” Angela responded, “My real problem with this place is that everyone feels the need to tell me everything that is going on.”
“Isn't there a happy medium?” Ben asked sitting on the opposite end of the window seat.
Angela didn't answer for a long while. Instead, she stared out the window, drawing Ben's attention to the view. There was a green field with a small forest of trees. “Not really.”
Ben looked at her. He'd meant it to be a companionable question, but she had taken it seriously, and it had obviously depressed her. “So is that real or another hologram?”
“Real, it is a view into our temperate game preserve. It is in a separate sub-fold of space-time. It took some extra engineering to connect it visually with our quarters, but it is one of the few things that really relaxes me. There are several species of plants and animals thriving in there, which are endangered or extinct on most Earths. Here they are safe, and will stay that way as long as we're here.”
Again it seemed like Angela was drifting off into some dark area of contemplation. They stared out at the forest for a while, until Ben couldn't take it any longer. “Awkward isn't it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that was Daniel's intention?” Ben asked.
“No, I think his intention was to have us talk and become friends,” Angela answered after looking at Ben a minute.
“So what is your job here anyway?”
Angela glanced back at her forest. “Sometimes I feel like I’m in one of those westerns where the gang of hoodlums has killed or driven off every decent sheriff some poor town can get its hands on. Then they turn around and hand the star to the next poor klutz that shuffles into town on a lame horse. Then the new sheriff has to fight off the bad guys. Eventually some wacky plan works and they succeed. I’m still waiting for a wacky plan,” She slumped as she spoke, then paused. Turning back to Ben, she sighed before pulling herself back together, “Like I told you, I'm the general purpose problem solver. Everybody brings their problems to me and I solve them. Meanwhile I take all those little pieces and try to put them together until ultimately they make sense.”
“Why don't you give me a go at it?” Ben suggested.
“Okay, here is an example. What do the sinking of a fishing boat on a minor Earth colony, the assassination of a basketball star, and a mutant strain of the chicken pox have in common?”
Ben's eyebrows screwed themselves up into a frown, “You're serious?”
“I'm as serious as a virulent plague. One which nearly wiped out the population of an entire dimension. It seems that the chicken pox had mutated into a very dangerous form. The basketball star possessed a special immunity to it, which would have led to a cure if the fishing boat chartered by a scientist hadn't sunk killing all hands,” Angela paused, “I have to deal with puzzles like that all day long most days. Then I spend my evenings trying to put the puzzles together to figure out the dark's overall plan. After that I spend most of the night dreaming about what to do about it.”
“And it doesn't help when un-informed misfits lay into you over crossed lines of communication,” Ben continued her thought to its logical conclusion, “I'm sorry about that. So do you have any idea how this Miranda-Erica-girl 22 thing is tied together?”
“No, the fact that they are connected is about as far as I've gotten. Though, I do think that if you stick to the path, however strange, it will lead to the girl and her child. Miranda holds an important piece to this somehow. Otherwise why would she turn up now?” Angela thought out-loud, “I think you should team up with her. It seems to be the direction we're being nudged into anyway.”
“There is something I don't get. I was really confused as to how Daniel figured out the location of the camp where we found Miranda. He asked about a bunch of offhand things the escapees had reported. Like about the feeding schedule, and what the guards wore and how they talked andY“ Ben paused for a breath.
Angela held up her hand, “Time differences, differences in clothing styles, and verbal accents, all help ferret out a precise dimensional identity. It's a skill that takes experience to learn. So far we can't teach more than the barest basics of it. Everyone's technique is different.”
“Okay, so how are Miranda and I going to compensate?”
“She's probably picked up a little of the skill over the course of her travels. Other than that, I don't know. I guess you two will just have to get lucky,” Angela answered with a slight grin.
Ben pretended to ignore the double meaning, “So, when do we get started?”
“As soon as Gene, the petty medical despot, decides to release us to duty.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Miranda wasn't doing much in the way of rest. She couldn't seem to get the swirling confusion of her own mind silent enough to sleep. Her memories were whipped up into a disjointed froth, and part of her consumed them out of curiosity. Weapons, worlds and faces whipped past her closed eyelids. She paced her room in a set holding pattern, to the left of the bed, to the right of the bed. Two inches closer to the wall and the bathroom door hissed open and a few paces after that the main door did not.
It startled her into opening her eyes, when one of her cycles brought her to the door just as it hissed open to admit Gene. “That doesn't look like rest.”
Miranda opened her mouth and tripped over her own brain trying to find the words to beg his forgiveness. “I couldn't sleep any more,” was all that came out.
Gene quickly leapt to reassure her obvious upset, “It's okay. Neither could I when I first got here. I didn't end up in a tank, but I might have if things had been only a little different. As it sits my brain is still scrambled most of the time.” Gene sat on Miranda's bed and patted it to encourage her to do the same. “The truth is only you know what you need to help you heal.”
At that moment, aside from her disjointed sense of the past, Miranda didn't particularly feel like she needed to heal. “I'm okay. From what little I remember, I think I've been through worse. I just want to get out there and help people. I mean sure I'm safe, but I know there are others as bad off or worse off than I was.”
Miranda closed her eyes and let the scenes flash past in an unintelligible montage of blood and screaming. “I get that and,” Miranda opened her eyes to look into Gene's, “I understand, but from the stuff I'm remembering, I'm used to it. What's more, I think I'm used to functioning despite it.”
“You don't have to in here,” Gene answered.
Miranda grunted. She had made enough sense of herself to know that wasn't who she was. Above all else she remembered going and doing, not sitting and contemplating. “I don't think I can get all of this to make sense just sitting around in this giant pillow.”
Gene threw up his hands, “You're all the same. Neely was just like you before...” He stopped dead and began rubbing at the worry lines on his brow with the palm of his hand.
“Before what?”
“Before she had you, and you disappeared,” Ben answered.
“That would make her my mother,” Miranda felt her eyes moistening. The fog lifted and a huge area of her memories resolved themselves. She remembered the deep hole of longing for parents.
“Would you like me to bring her here?” Gene rose from the bed and held his hand over an intercom button.
Miranda couldn't speak, so she nodded. She had a mother, and a sister, did she have a... “Is my father here too?”
Gene nodded and depressed the button, “Connect me with Penelope and Nathan Harvey.”
Miranda smiled. She had a family, but something nagged at her. There was someone else she wanted to see, someone really important. “Ben, I want to see Ben.”
Gene looked at her sideways, “Make that Benjamin Kindel.”
The intercom made a slight bleeping noise, “You have reached Benjamin Oliver Kindel's personal data organization program. Please state your name and business.”
“This is Gene. I have a friend who would like to see him down in isolation room three,” Gene finished with his override code so Ben would get the message immediately. Then he keyed off the intercom.
Miranda finally felt able to sit down on the bed. Once seated she didn't see any harm in leaning back into the pillows. In no time she was snoring. She missed seeing Gene hang his hand over the intercom while he contemplated canceling the summons. In the end he left the room quietly without canceling the call.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ben took three of Angela's checkers, teleporting them to his pile. She frowned then took four of his. She finished her move and sucked deeply on her straw, slurping up the last of her milkshake. Ben was just about to make his next move when Bea interrupted, “Ben, Gene called with a priority one message. You are wanted in isolation room three.”
Ben stood abruptly, again upsetting the board with his knee. Angela telekinetically tried to keep it from ending up on the floor, and failed. “You did that because I was winning.”
“You heard the message, Miranda is awake.” Ben bent to help pick up the board.
“Yeah, just go, I've got this covered,” Angela teleported it board and all back into its case, “See.”
Ben smiled and raced for the door. Before he got to the knob his excitement outpaced his self control and Ben found himself standing in front of Gene. “Ben! I thought I told you to watch yourself.” Gene scolded immediately.
“Yeah, sure, how is she?” Ben looked over Gene's shoulder at the closed door.
“She's asleep.”
Ben stared at the door, then Gene, then back at the door. “Then why did you message me?”
“She didn't seem able to sleep until after I'd called and asked you to come. Then she just laid down and fell asleep,” Gene turned and keyed open the door.
Ben looked inside. Miranda lay curled up on the bed. Her side rose and fell in time with her breathing. She looked so sweet and peaceful, Ben didn't have the heart to wake her. Still he wanted to be near her. He took three soft steps into the room, bypassing Gene without really noticing him. Each step brought him closer to her, and each step led to another. Shortly Ben was at the foot of the bed. He sat. His weight on the corner of the bed woke her. Her eyes blinked open and she stretched with a faint smile on her lips. Ben watched and waited while her eyes sought out his. Finally her pale blue eyes found focus on his face. Suddenly her tiny smile faded, and her eyes drifted off towards the wall.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 16
Now What!
-----------------------------------
Vaguely, Miranda felt the bed shift. The uncurling of fear down her spine woke her mind. Instinct shouted she should flee, but reason and curiosity kept her still long enough to feel a familiar presence. Someone was sitting at the foot of the bed, someone safe. She almost went back to sleep, but nagging curiosity decided she would stir.
Miranda opened her eyes and had to blink them into focus. As the blur cleared she examined the man at the foot of her bed. Her heart fluttered and her palms became clammy; they recognized him but at first she did not. Then it hit her like an atomic meltdown, Ben! She smiled until her memories flashed past freezing on the image of Kindy's death. She had felt about him some of what she felt for this Ben. Lost in the memory, Miranda stared past reality turning her head away.
Ben's disappointment reached her despite his mental shielding. Miranda turned back confused; her Ben wasn't telepathic. She stared deeply into his eyes and reached deeply into his mind. His shields were as nothing compared to her abilities. It was her Ben, even though he had somehow gained powers like Kindy. She shook her head. Of course he had the same latent gifts they were parallel world alternates. Somehow the knowledge didn't comfort her it just reminded her of Kindy. Funny, how when she had Kindy she hadn't really cared because of her want for Ben, and now with Ben...
“Miranda, are you all right?” Miranda had to applaud Ben's ability to keep his voice level, and the way it strengthened his mental shields to do so.
Given everything she'd gone through to find Ben, Miranda was surprised she had trouble even answering him, “Yeah,” though her answer had no difficulty in hurting him.
“Gene said you wanted to see me. I have to admit I wanted to see you too. I have wanted to talk to you for a while,” Miranda could feel Ben's mind squirm and knew he wouldn't say any of what he had to say, “So, uh, well, thanks for saving my life, twice.”
“Yeah, so how was your telepathy triggered? Was it the dark ones?” Miranda finally asked still stuck in her memories of Kindy. She came around to the realization that up to this point she had spent more time with Kindy than she had with “her” Ben.
“No, it was a telepathic amplifier here, shortly after Daniel brought me here.” Ben answered. Miranda nodded and looked down at her hands where they sat on her lap. “So, what happened after Daniel and I got out of there?”
Miranda looked up and saw him staring at her, almost into her. Her memories of the fight flashed by during a blink, ending in Kindy's death. “Isn't it obvious that I got my butt kicked. Just like I warned you would happen.”
“I'm sorry. I should have stayed to help,” Ben quickly grunted.
“No!” Miranda rushed, “They would've killed you. They want very much to see you dead. Besides your friend was wounded. I'm glad to see he's okay.”
“Absolutely, though if I'd had the sense to listen to you, it wouldn't have been in question,” Daniel said from the doorway. He knocked belatedly. “I have some visitors for you.”
Miranda was relieved at the interruption and not really surprised when Tina shoved past Daniel to be the first one i
n the room. Tina's grin had almost taken over her face.
“Hey again!” Tina sat in her sleeping chair. She almost vibrated with the excitement of a secret surprise.
“Hey to you,” Miranda flopped her wrist in a brief wave.
“Oh my god she sounds just like you did when we met!” A male voice blurted behind Daniel.
His words seemed to impel the woman beside him into the room. She raced to the bed and laid her palms on Miranda's face. “You look so much like my mother, I wish I had photographs to show you.” The woman said filling Miranda's mind with memory pictures of a woman in a plain dress, who looked very much like Miranda's mirror image. The man also entered the room. Ben relinquished his seat for him.
Miranda looked at their faces. They scratched at deep memories she hadn't accessed before. Their smiles and the woman's tears, were deeply imprinted. Miranda fumbled trying to find meaning in the memories. She felt the fool when she realized that they were her parents. “Mother? Father?”
Tina leapt up from her chair and clapped her hands. Then she flung herself at Miranda and wrapped her arms around Miranda's neck. It degenerated into a long group hug where emotions and memories flowed freely into Miranda. She had been a cute and precocious baby, learning everything far too soon for her own good. At least that was how they remembered her, though the truth of it hung in the reality of Miranda's time with the dark.
Another woman in the hall cleared her throat, somehow ending the group hug, “I promised I'd find her for you Neely.” The woman, with an imperious bearing and a family resemblance took three measured steps into the room. Miranda vaguely remembered her from a big too-bright space.
“Hello cousin, welcome back to Sanctuary. My name is Angela. Your mother, Penelope,” Angela paused to point, “is my mother's half sister. Your father, Nathan, is my uncle,” again she pointed, “and your baby sister Tina is a pain in my ass, as I'm sure she will be in yours.”
“Aren't you going to introduce me too Angela dear?” A third woman entered from the hallway. Her arrival seemed to surprise everyone except Ben, and Miranda was sure his nonchalance stemmed from the same well as her own. He didn't have a clue.
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