by D. N. Leo
“Nah, I didn’t see it that way. I didn’t know the back-story, but on the surface, all he cared about was your conclusion at this very moment. He can’t control your thinking, especially when it’s clouded with jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous!”
“How did she die?”
Madeline shook her head as if she didn’t want to talk about it.
“You can’t compete with a dead woman. The way he thinks of her is locked in his mind and his memories. You can’t change that. And I could have guessed Ciaran was one of the few people whose mind you can’t read. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting here pondering.”
“Damn it, Dinah.”
“I’m an investigator.”
“You’d have to be before I pay attention to any of your conclusions.”
“I’m not a good investigator. I’m an excellent one. What did you do before you met Ciaran? Were you a journalist?”
“What makes you say that?”
She shrugged. “Just the way you think. Journalists report facts, make deductions from the information, put their spin on things, and then re-communicate. In a nutshell, they interpret facts. On the contrary, investigators tell the difference between fact and opinion. Skilled investigators don’t draw conclusions because the minute they do, they insert their own opinion into things. And opinion equals subjectivity. Investigation 101.” Dinah shoved her spoon into a yellow tub. “This is good,” she muttered.
Tears gleamed in Madeline’s eyes.
Dinah spooned out some blue ice cream.
Madeline said, “She died for him. Twice. Before we even got involved, Ciaran told me the love they had for each other in their twenties was irreplaceable. I accepted that. When Ciaran said if people betray him, they’re no longer his people, he meant it. He doesn’t forgive and forget. But he did for her.” A tear rolled down her face.
Dinah reached for a tub full icy green sweetness.
“She loved him, used him, betrayed him, then died for him. But he forgave her even before she died. And during that time, I wasn’t there.” Another tear rolled down her face.
“You weren’t there because you didn’t know him yet?”
“I was married to him at that time. I wasn’t there because we’d had an argument the day before, and we parted. We were in a battle before his coronation.” Then came another tear.
Dinah nodded. “I agree. You’re not jealous. What happened on the street just now hit a sore spot. And—this is my opinion as a fellow woman—that sore spot isn’t going to go away. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I know!” Madeline wiped her tears.
“But you have two trump cards. One, his love for you is enormous. I can see that with my own eyes. And two, you’re alive.” She pushed the tub of vanilla ice cream toward Madeline. “Now eat this before I finish it all.”
After a while, they went back to the spot where they’d left the men. Ciaran and Arik sat on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall, with a few bottles next to them. They stood up as Madeline and Dinah approached. Dinah could see a few more bruises on both men’s faces. They had apparently gone through a few more rounds of scuffling before finding peace in alcohol. Is it only human men who are weird, or is that a multiversal issue? she thought.
“How is this outfit,” Ciaran gestured up and down at Dinah, “better than the one she had on before?”
Dinah wore chunky boots, strategically tattered jeans, and a leather jacket.
“I agree,” Arik said in a slurred voice.
“Oh my god, are you both drunk?” Madeline asked.
Ciaran grinned and said to Arik, “My wife doesn’t think I can handle a few drinks for old time’s sake.”
Dinah could feel the contents of her stomach welling up. Ciaran saw her reaction and jumped out of the way just as a stream of half-digested ice cream hit Arik’s pants and shoes.
“Xiilok creature!” Madeline said.
“Where?” Ciaran whirled around, moving Madeline behind him. She pushed him aside easily and darted toward a small bridge where they now saw a man with yellow eyes standing. Ciaran charged after Madeline.
Arik asked Dinah, “Are you okay?”
“No, but I’m sober,” she said and ran after Madeline and Ciaran. Arik followed her. When she got to the bridge, Madeline, Ciaran, and the man with yellow eyes were nowhere to be found.
“Ciaran said Madeline is psychic. She can track minds. What’s your talent?” asked Arik.
“Well, I’m not psychic.”
Dinah glared at him as he hiccupped.
15
In a small alley a long distance from the bridge, the yellow-eyed man stopped running and turned around. “You’re fast, Eudaizians.”
“This one is high-ranked, Ciaran,” Madeline said between her teeth to Ciaran. “I don’t sense hostility in him.”
Ciaran nodded.
“We can do a lot more damage to you than running. Who are you, and what do you want?” Ciaran asked.
“I am your friend.”
Ciaran smiled. “And we are not your friends. But your friendly intention is noted. Now tell us what you want, and keep your distance.”
The man nodded. “I understand why you’re being cautious. I’m a Xiilok rebel.”
Madeline and Ciaran pulled their guns at the same time. Seeing the intensity of the situation, the man stepped back.
“You sent a Xiilok robot bomb to kill us. So much for your friendly intentions,” Madeline said. She felt strange and a bit dizzy. But still, she didn’t sense this man was a killer. Stay focused, she told herself. Ciaran needs you.
The man raised his hand to show he had no weapons and didn’t mean any harm. “Please, hear me out. I never agreed to harm Eudaizians. There are two major camps of rebels in Xiilok. But no matter whether we’re from the red or yellow camp, we can’t afford robot bombs. We don’t even have guns. We don’t benefit at all from killing you.”
“Did you send packages to kill the aperture jumpers?” Ciaran asked.
The man hesitated.
“Lying to us isn’t going to do you any good,” Ciaran snarled.
“I disagreed with them! Violence doesn’t help the situation.”
“Well, your opinion didn’t save those your camp killed.”
“No, it didn’t. That’s why I need your help. Arik has a gift I gave him. You have to make him use it.”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself?
“I tried.”
The world in front of Madeline become blurrier by the second. The next thing she knew, she fell into Ciaran’s arms.
“What did you do?” Ciaran shouted at the man.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Madeline, darling, tell me what’s happening!”
She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She tried again. “Can’t breathe.” She gasped for more air.
“Okay, sit down here. Calm down and try taking deep breaths for me.” She tried. She could feel his hands holding her, but she couldn’t see much. Focus. He needs me. She willed all of the Eudaizian power in her, concentrated, and tried to breathe. She thought about her children, about the battles they had been through. She had a beautiful family now. She had to live to cherish it. A burst of fresh and cold air came into her lungs, but she knew it wouldn’t last long.
She opened her eyes and saw Ciaran’s face close to hers. “Try to hang in there. I’ll take you back to Eudaiz right now. I’ll open the teleport.”
“Was she exposed to the robot bomb?” the yellow-eyed man said.
Ciaran turned and looked at the man. Madeline could see the man standing right behind Ciaran, looking down at her. If he meant to cut Ciaran’s throat, it would have happened by now. When she was down, he was totally defenseless.
“I was, directly,” he said. “How far can it spread?”
“I don’t know. But I do know it’s airborne. You can’t take her back to Eudaiz. If she was exposed and infected, she’l
l become another bomb herself. Check to see if there’s a red dot on her arm.”
Ciaran pulled her left sleeve up and found nothing. He pulled up her right sleeve. And there it was, a glaring red dot.
“Would he be infected again, being around me?” she asked.
“No. If he somehow survived it, he’s immune.”
“How long does she have?” Ciaran asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Have you seen this poison before?”
“No. We don’t have the skills to either make it or create an antidote. I just know about it. There’s a group in Xiilok who specialize in this. But they’re commercial. They’re not part of the rebels. The antidote is what you need now. Do you want me to ask that group? If you have the money to pay, they’ll do anything for you.”
“How long will it take?”
“I don’t know.”
“No,” she said. “You’ll just let our enemies know where we are, Ciaran.”
“Dinah!” Ciaran called. “Come on, Madeline. We have to get back to the car.”
“If I need to find you again, how can I do that?” Ciaran asked the man.
“No need. I will find you.”
Ciaran picked Madeline up in his arms and strode away. Her mind started slipping out again, but she pulled herself back. She kept telling herself to stay focused. Think of the children. Think of their lives in Eudaiz.
Ciaran rushed back to where they had been before and found no sign of Dinah or Arik. He spun around and around. “Keep breathing, Madeline. I’m getting you back to the house.” He rushed toward where they had parked the car.
As soon as they turned the corner, a group of four men appeared. She glanced at them and said, “Xiilok.” He lowered her feet to the ground, leaning her against his body. He pulled out his gun with his free hand and shot. He gunned down three of them immediately. The fourth threw a knife before being shot down. Ciaran swiveled, and the knife slashed at his right shoulder.
“Must be the poor rebels. They don’t even have guns,” he muttered. He picked up Madeline again and rushed away. They turned another corner and were about fifty feet away from the car. Three men and a woman were walking toward them. Ciaran pulled his gun again.
“No, they’re not Xiilok,” she said.
He lowered the gun instantly. The people turned around, ran, and called for help. Ciaran placed her in the car. He touched her face. “Can you hang on for me, please?”
She nodded.
He ran for the driver’s seat and jumped in. The next thing she knew, the car felt as if it were flying.
16
Dinah pushed at the gate on the fence in front of Arik’s house. It was a small, charming cottage tucked away in a quiet corner a few blocks away from the bridge. He towered over her and almost fell over as he handed her his keyring. “Which one…” She trailed off when he slid down to the floor and leaned against the door frame. “If you haven’t touched a drop of alcohol in five years, you can just tell Ciaran. How does that bruise your ego?” she muttered as she tried the keys one by one. The ninth one was the right one.
She helped him inside the house, where he dragged himself to a couch and flopped onto it. She searched around for a light switch and couldn’t find one. Then the light went on. They were standing in a small, cozy, and extremely neat kitchen. She felt like a pig when she thought about how unkempt her apartment was.
“I have tea and coffee. Please make yourself at home.”
He staggered into a small hallway. She followed him.
“The reason I came here is because I need your help, Arik.”
“Sure, tell me what I can do for you,” he muttered with a voice still slurred with the effects of the alcohol.
“I…”
He took his shirt off in one swift move. Before she could object, his pants followed. She understood she had vomited all over him and he wanted to clean up, but he didn’t have to do it right in front of her. Wait. She was the one who had followed him, and this was his house. She turned to go back to the living room.
She heard the shower start. The bathroom door wasn’t closed. “I’ll wait for you in the living room,” she called. When she didn’t hear an answer, she peeked in. He was already in the shower, so he hadn’t heard her. She saw no steam in the bathroom and was surprised to think he’d be taking a cold shower in the middle of the England winter.
She turned and walked to the living room. He had identified an aperture. Is he a jumper himself? She absently touched the nape of her neck where the round mark was located.
A short time later, the shower water stopped running. It seemed the cold water had sobered Arik up. He walked toward the living room, wrapping a towel around his hips.
He was a beautiful creature, magnificent as he walked down the hallway toward her. She shook her head. He was human. They’d have no future together. Plus, he had a fiancée.
The closer he came, the more she could feel waves of heat coming from his body. Seeing her reaction, he approached her slowly, step by step. When he got within arm’s reach, he said, “Go on…you want to do it.”
She lifted her hand and placed her palm about two inches from his chest. The heat coming out of him was incredible, and his skin glowed when her palm came too close. “Wow.”
He smiled. “You see, I’m literally a hot man!” He walked past her toward the couch. She looked at the nape of his neck. He had no mark. He wasn’t a jumper. She let out a sigh of relief and went around to sit down on the sofa with him.
“It’s not always like this. Sometimes my body just heats up. I don’t know the trigger. But I guess tonight it was alcohol-related.”
He waited for her questions.
“Are you human?” she asked.
“My mother would like to think so.” He grinned.
“Is this some kind of special talent?”
“I wouldn’t call it a talent. My body has just had an unusually high temperature since an accident. People here refer to it as being struck by lightning.” He smiled.
“But it wasn’t lightning, right? You just let them be comfortable with an explanation they understand.”
He leaned back in the chair and looked at her. “Are you human?”
“I asked the question first.”
“All right, an answer for an answer. No, it wasn’t lightning. But it was something related to light.”
“You found the aperture.”
He gazed at her for a moment. Then he nodded. “Are you human?” he repeated.
“No. My makeup might be very close to human. But I live in Iilos, another universe, a dimension, if that makes any sense.”
He smiled. “It does.”
“I guess Ciaran’s told you that someone is killing aperture jumpers. My friend was among those killed. I would have died, too, if I had been there.” She pulled the neck of her shirt down so that he could see her mark. “Jumpers have the mark. That’s the only way to identify us. I’m not here because I want to know when it’s my turn to get killed. I promised my friend’s mother an answer. How did you find that aperture? I need to know.”
“I can’t help you. I don’t know. I stumbled upon it.”
She buried her head in her hands. “I knew it. It had to be by chance.”
They saw the beam of a flashlight shining into the house, and then there was an urgent banging on the door. Arik opened the door to see serious-looking men in uniforms surrounding his yard. “Is Dinah here?”
She approached the door. “Yes, I’m here.”
The man spoke into his communication device. “Yes, sir, we found her at Arik’s house.” He looked at Dinah and gave her his communication divide. She picked up. It was Ciaran’s voice. “Dinah, Madeline was infected by the robot bomb as well. She’s dying. Do you have more antidote?”
“No. I used the strongest dose I had on you. But I can make more antidote if I have the right equipment.”
“What do you need?”
“A lab.”
&nb
sp; “You’ve got it. Please go with my men.”
“Right away.”
“Can I come, too?” Arik asked.
“Yes,” Ciaran answered.
Arik stormed back into the house to put some clothes on while Dinah rushed toward the car with the men.
17
The helicopter was loaded up with all of what Ciaran had asked for, and the lab was fully set up in fifteen minutes. Men in private security uniforms stormed in and out of the mansion as if they were at war. They had moved Madeline to a large room where there was medical equipment set up. She was breathing, but only with the help of a machine, and she was turning bluer by the minute. The lab was located in the adjacent room, but Ciaran wouldn’t leave Madeline’s side.
He rushed over to Dinah when she came in. “The lab has been set up,” he said. “Can you please check to see if you need anything else?”
“Can I take a look at her?”
Ciaran nodded and stepped aside. He looked as if he was going to explode at any second.
“The machine won’t help for long. I’d like you to give her this first. It will help.” She gave him a needle.
“Thank you.” He took the needle without hesitation and instantly injected it into a vein on Madeline’s neck. It was either a sign of desperation or a complete trust in her. Dinah wasn’t sure. But she didn’t like having this responsibility on her shoulders. She had never made this compound in a rush with equipment she wasn’t familiar with.
The door burst open and a kind old man in his late sixties entered.
“Doctor Thomas,” Ciaran said and rushed toward the man, guiding him inside. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I need you to monitor Madeline’s vitals while I help Dinah with the antidote.
“For poison?” Doctor Thomas asked and took Madeline’s pulse.
Ciaran nodded.