An Opening in the Air (Applied Topology Book 2)

by Margaret Ball

  “And with any luck,” said Ben, talking over the song, “the gasoline can wasn’t destroyed, and they’ll find Myers’s fingerprints on it. We won’t need luck for them to uncover the fact that he owned both houses and was having serious financial problems. Which could have been solved by insurance.”

  “I looked that up while you were gone,” Jimmy said. “Arson for insurance is definitely a felony, and he could get twenty years for it. If his lawyer goes for the insanity defense, he’ll probably be kept in the Texas State Lunatic Asylum indefinitely, unless they decide he’s sane enough to stand trial.”

  “Isn’t it called the Austin State Hospital now?” That was Ingrid, our resident fact-checker and nit-picker.

  “Yeah, but I like the old name better.” Jimmy grinned. “With its echoes of ‘looney-bin.’”

  “And that,” said Ben, “is a beautiful example of the power of circumstantial evidence to lead people to the wrong conclusions.” He moved in on Annelise. “Do you believe me now?”

  She put her arms around his neck. “Can you forgive me for not trusting you?”

  “Circumstantial evidence,” Ben said, “can be extremely persuasive.” He put his own arms around her and drew her close to him.

  I glanced around the room. Ingrid and Jimmy looked as if they were enjoying a happy ending. Colton looked – well, somewhat less happy. Mr. M.’s box-turtle face was not adapted to showing his feelings.

  And Lensky? Lensky was staring over my head, showing about as much expression as the statue of James Stephen Hogg on the South Mall. Much better looking, but just as hard.

  “I’m going home,” he said abruptly. “Thalia – you’re welcome to join me.”

  His steps sounded on the wooden stairs, slow and deliberate. For once, he wasn’t taking them two at a time with his usual exuberant energy.

  I found a chair and sagged into it. So much for reconciling with Brad. Well, at least our plan had done something for Ben and Annelise.

  After a short wait, and just before the lump in my throat choked me, Ben brought me a stale chocolate-covered doughnut.

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need comfort food.”

  “Comfort food, hell! This is fuel. You’ve been doing a lot of camouflage and teleporting today. Don’t want you to pass out when you get there.”

  “What makes you think I’m planning to make another jump?”

  “Would you rather I drive you to the condo? I can do that.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not going there. Never again.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a coward,” Jimmy said unexpectedly.

  “Me neither.” Ingrid gave me a hard stare.

  “Who are you calling a coward?” I defended myself. “That wasn’t exactly the warmest invitation I’ve ever heard.”

  “Daughter of Stars, you must not shrink from this task.” Mr. M. slithered out of my belt loops to the floor, the better to fix me with an accusing look. I was wrong; box turtle faces can show a lot of expression when they want to.

  “I told you that you’d have to talk to him about it some time,” Ben put in.

  At least Colton was still too sick over losing Annelise to nag me.

  I threw up my hands. “All right! All right! It won’t take me long to teleport to his condo, get rejected, and return.” If I had the courage to come back here, that is. The bottom of Lake Travis might be a better destination.

  “Brouwer.”

  The living room was empty. Maybe he wasn’t home yet.

  “Thalia?”

  His voice was coming from the bedroom. With dragging steps, I made my way there.

  The first thing I noticed was that the closet door was open, and my few respectable clothes were still hanging in it. Two bureau drawers were also half open, one filled with a jumble of T-shirts and the other with colorful lingerie spilling out of it. I’m not the neatest person in the world; this was exactly the way I’d left things on Sunday.

  So he hadn’t gotten around to packing up my clothes yet? Hmm.

  And Lensky? He was sitting on the edge of the bed, slumped over and staring at the floor. Elbows resting on his knees, clasped hands hanging down.

  "You've made your point, Thalia. Circumstances... can be deceptive."

  He sounded desperately tired and worn down. Defeated, even. It broke my heart to hear him sounding like that. Because - I never wanted to defeat Lensky. Oh, sure, there'd been times quite recently when I wanted to kill him, but that wasn't the same thing at all. It was bad enough that I'd been destroyed; it wouldn't make me feel better at all to know that the same disaster that crushed me had also wiped out Lensky's bumptious, irrepressible self-confidence, his generous laugh and the fire in his blue eyes. He was - valuable. In himself.

  Unlike me.

  "The thing is," he went on, "I never could quite believe that you were really my girl. Just because I've been crazy about you since the day I walked into your office and you immediately started giving me grief... I've always known you were smarter than me. Figured you'd get bored with me eventually. Planned to enjoy it while it lasted, but not to be hurt or surprised when you gravitated back to your intellectual peers. Why would you stay with a dumb Polish spook, when you could have a man who understood your mathematics and used it to dance with you through this in-between that I can’t even see? I always expected you'd wind up with Ben or somebody like him."

  His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Only it hurt... more than I was prepared for... when it actually happened."

  Jesus. He was practically bleeding in front of me. He was forcing me to believe that I was actually important to him. It had been safer to stay wrapped in despair, telling myself that I was nobody and nothing.

  I was terrified. But instead of obeying my impulse to run, I dropped to the floor in front of him, sitting cross-legged. "Didn't happen. I thought you understood that now."

  "Oh, I believe you. When I saw you on that bed with Ben it hurt so much, I wasn’t able to think straight. But I know you, Thalia. If you'd decided to take up with Ben, you wouldn't have bothered to lie about it. I think I knew that, even when I was accusing you. What I don't know is..."

  His voice trailed off. "What?" I prompted softly.

  He raised his head and met my eyes. There was nothing but pain in his look. "Have you decided to go with Ben? After the way I’ve insulted you? Because it - he - is up to your speed, in ways I'll never be."

  "He certainly is," I agreed brightly, and saw Lensky wince. Occasionally I regret my vicious impulses. Usually too late. "The only problem is, I’m already in love with a ‘dumb Polish spook.’"

  And sometimes I regret my other impulses. I was wide open for another rejection now.

  "Thalia. Don't say that if you don't mean it. I'm not playing games."

  "Why do you always assume I don't mean what I say?" I took his clasped hands and gently separated them. "I'm here with you. I want to be with you. If… you still want me."

  He wrapped his hands around my shoulders. "Can you forgive me for being such a jerk? I, I know I can't understand your work the way Ben does..."

  Enough agonizing already. I took a deep breath and re-entered the world of love and loss, the world of real people, in one terrified rush. "Lensky. What will it take to get you to quit talking about Ben and take me to bed?"

  As it turned out, that wasn't very difficult at all.

  The End

  Keep reading for a preview of the next book in the Applied Topology series, An Annoyance of Grackles.

  An Annoyance of Grackles

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  He was shouting my name.

  “Thalia! Thalia, don’t!”

  “Lensky?”

  The room was dim; it must be very early morning. I could just see that his eyes were closed. His whole body jerked spasmodically as he drew breath for another shout.

  I shook his shoulder. “Lensky, wake up, you’re having a bad dream!”

  That didn’t wake him,
so I went to emergency measures: an elbow in the ribs.

  “Thalia! Ow! Don’t…”

  His eyes opened. He breathed heavily for a few moments. “Ah, was I snoring?”

  “Dreaming. I think. You were shouting at me not to do something.”

  A relieved huff. “Well, what’s new about that?”

  And after a moment, “You’re sure I wasn’t shouting at you to quit elbowing me like that?”

  “That was after.”

  “Oh, well. Sorry to wake you.” He rolled over on his side and closed his eyes.

  I deployed my elbow again. “Tell me.”

  “Mmm? Never can remember dreams.”

  “You’ve been having this one for a week. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

  With a sigh, Lensky rolled onto his back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Do we have to do this at oh-dark-thirty?”

  “Yes, because you’ve been dodging my questions all week and this time I’m not waiting until you get your defenses back in place.”

  He sighed again. “All right. I’ve been having this dream.”

  I waited.

  “You’re about to teleport someplace, and somehow I know you shouldn’t, it’s a trap. I shout at you to stop but you just - disappear. And I know I’ll never see you again.”

  “I was afraid it was something like that.” I’d almost been expecting it. “You’ve done your best to accept my paranormal abilities. But obviously there’s a level where you can’t accept them, where you equate my using my abilities with your losing me.” In the long run, no outsider could accept them. I should have known better than to think Lensky would be different. He’d held out longer than Rick the Rat, but now even he couldn’t take it any more.

  “Oh, stop with the pop psychology! I do accept your abilities. It’s not about that. It’s about Blondie, if you must know.”

  “You dream about a terrorist bomber? That’s kinky.”

  “Bomber, yes, but maybe not a terrorist. The analysts at the Agency have been doing some digging, thanks to the papers you stole from his safe. I’m not supposed to tell you about it, but I can say this much: he may have identified me in October, and through me he may have identified you. If he goes after you… He won’t. If it even looks like he’s getting close, I’ll see to it that you’re safe. But just for a few days, would you humor me? Ride in to the office with me?”

  “All right.”

  “Promise? You won’t get impatient and teleport yourself?”

  “Yes. I promise. Now go back to sleep.”

  “Not much chance of that now,” he grumbled. Instead he got up and started coffee, and we watched the January sunrise stain the cloudy sky red. His condo had been built by somebody who understood Austin. Big windows to the west are virtually useless; you have to keep them covered for nine months of the year or you’ll cook in the afternoon sun. Big windows to the east are much, much better. In the case of Lensky’s condo, they gave us a view of a narrow strip of trees following a seasonal creek, and above the trees, a broad sweep of sky.

  About the time I finished my first cup of coffee, a swarm of grackles rose from the trees. They took flight like a cloud of shadows, whirling and screeching and re-forming in mid-air before settling among the trees again. I shivered.

  Lensky could worry about the terrorist bomber, but “Blondie” was only human, with only human abilities. I was much more worried about the Master of Ravens.