Wandering Soul

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Wandering Soul Page 32

by Steven Anderson


  I could hear the music already. It was swaying in the air instead of pounding, and I wanted to sway with it.

  Sam danced with me, holding me and twirling me while I looked up at the snow coming down on us. After that, we chanted slogans with our fists in the air. Then we held candles while we prayed for the brave girl who’d almost lost her life there a couple of days ago. God help her heal quickly.

  The music slowed after that, and he held me close while we rocked back and forth. My head was on his shoulder and I smelled damp wool and Sam.

  “Did you pray for me?” I asked softly, not moving my head from where it was resting comfortably.

  “Uh huh. I prayed that you were sufficiently healed.”

  “Sufficient for what?”

  He squeezed me a little closer, hands low on my back.

  “Oh, that. Let’s go find out.”

  I led him away from the crowd, down a narrow street past a bakery.

  “I think I know where you’re taking me now.”

  “Hush. Act surprised. Phase three is a secret.”

  We entered the old workshop, the access panel still keyed for my hand, Mom or Cuza not having reset it yet. It was too dark for me to see if Sam was surprised. We made it upstairs, dim light from the street making all the shapes mysterious and frightening.

  My sword was still lying on the table where I’d left it.

  “Put it on.” Sam demanded. “I want to see something.”

  I complied and then stared up at him, defiant.

  “Pull it. As quickly as you can.”

  I did, fast and smooth, then grinned at him.

  “You manipulated Winona and me perfectly.”

  “Are you objecting?”

  “No. Winona says I’m an idiot for feeling the way I do, but no. Put it away, unless you want to duel.”

  “Not with swords.” I put it away and laid it back on the table.

  “Now then, let’s get down to why we’re here.”

  “Right! The paint, I have to know if it would have worked.” I grabbed him and pulled him into the back office, slamming the door behind us.

  I was dark. I opened the door again and Sam started to follow me out.

  “Don’t move! I just need to find some candles.”

  “So, what phase are we on now?”

  “Three, almost four, if I can find a match.”

  I found what I needed and closed the door gently. I tried not to notice that the candles were shaking in my hands as I put them around the office.

  “We could have just used the light from my display pad.”

  “No,” I corrected him. “We need a heat source.”

  “Right. How foolish of me.”

  I shrugged out of my coat and sat on the edge of the desk, feet swinging back and forth while I looked around. “I think this is going to work.”

  Sam stood in front of me, pushing closer between my legs, not saying anything.

  “What do you think, Sam?”

  He shook his head and kissed me, first on the mouth, then down the side of my neck.

  I twisted my head and found one of his ears to nibble on while he worked on kissing his way down.

  His hand was on my left hip, which felt wonderful, and his fingers started to work up inside the dress, counting my ribs with his thumb, moving upward, sending happy tingles through me. Then it all fell apart.

  I pushed him back from me, hard. He stood there, staring at me and I stared back at him.

  “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head, unable to answer. He looked like he wanted to hold me, but was afraid to come any closer. I could feel the concern in him as well as the frustration, the desire, the need to continue with what we’d been doing.

  I took a deep breath. “He touched me there. He grabbed me and he hurt me.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It’s still sore?”

  I shook my head. “No, not anymore. It’s the memory of what he did that hurts.” I sighed. “Damn him. I want you to touch me, it feels good when you touch me. It’s just… Oh, damn it, I feel like I’m letting him win. He’s dead and he’s still winning. I can’t push what he did out of my head.” I could hear his voice, taunting me. ‘Are all the girls on Dulcinea as ugly as you? And as malformed?’

  I reached out to Sam, took his hand and placed it over my heart, refusing to give in. “Be patient with me for a bit, OK?”

  “Sure.”

  He pulled a chair over and sat in front of me, gently massaging my legs while I stared at the ceiling, trying to sort through what I was feeling.

  “It’s getting warmer in here.” Sam’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.

  I chewed on my lip and watched the shadows flickering against the ceiling. We’d missed a spot near the door.

  “It was a brilliant idea, mixing the bubbles into the paint.”

  “Thank you.” I ruffled his hair with my fingers. “Thank you for not being angry.”

  He kissed my knee through the dress. “It’s 0230. What do you want to do?”

  “Hold me, please.”

  “I can do that.”

  He lifted me from the desk and held me for a while, swaying gently to the memory of the music we’d danced to. “You’re right,” I told him. “It is getting warmer in here. Help me pile up some of these blankets.”

  We made more of a nest than a bed, blankets heaped on blankets until most of the floor was covered. “Help me with my dress? I don’t want to mess it up, it’s borrowed.”

  Sam didn’t say anything, but I could feel what he wanted to do. Instead, his hands gently undid the buttons when I lifted my chin. I stepped out of the dress and stood in front of him in my thermal shirt and underwear.

  He knelt in front of me and kissed my belly, making me gasp even though I had known what he was about to do.

  “Samuel, will you be able to stop if you keep doing that?”

  “No.”

  I was still swaying a little.

  “Are we past that point already? No more safety nets?”

  Sam didn’t answer. Feeling what was churning in his head I don’t think words were an option for him any longer.

  “Yeah, I was afraid of that.” I was almost to that point myself. My head tipped back as I pushed up against him, lifting my shirt, trying to give him more bare skin to kiss. There was a moan building somewhere deep inside me and I knelt with him, kissing his mouth.

  “Now, Little Soul? Now?”

  The voice hummed into my head. Of course Merrimac was close by, of course. I didn’t care anymore. Let them watch, let them feel it and enjoy it. Yes, now! I wanted to scream the answer to him. I’ve waited long enough.

  The thought was sharp and clear inside the Merrimac group mind, the vision of my child that was about to be created. There were glimpses of the possible futures, him growing up, playing with Winona and me, the love shared between us, and the… sadness? There it was again slipping past me. Me and my son and my friends, but no Sam, Sam no longer needed, Sam as surplus, Sam discarded.

  I gasped, trying to pull back. No, Merrimac, not yet, not ready yet! The hum was filling all of me and I wasn’t able to stop. I toppled over onto my back, Sam still with me, Sam on top of me, arms wrapped around mine, holding me.

  I woke to a gentle kiss on my shoulder, my bare shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked at a very contented sleeping Sam. I swung my head around to see who was kissing me.

  “’Morning Duse, ready for breakfast?” Winona was sitting on the floor beside me.

  “Oh, Winona, I killed him.” I was crying.

  She looked over me at Sam. “He doesn’t look dead, and if he is, at least it looks like he died happy.”

  “I’m serious! I think, um, I think I’m pregnant.” I lifted the blanket and looke
d down at myself. All naked. I sighed. I couldn’t remember it happening. I couldn’t remember anything after we had fallen onto the blankets, arms and legs all tangled together. “If I am, the Tarakana don’t need him anymore. They’ll let him die. I saw it in the group mind.” I looked back at Sam. “I can’t live without him, Winn. I’d rather die too.”

  “Really? You’d rather be dead with Sam than live to raise your child? Your son will be remarkable, you know that, don’t you? And you’ll have people that love you every step of the way.”

  “Not without Sam,” I whispered.

  Winona leaned close to me, big eyes studying my face. Not quite right for Winona’s eyes, though, too brown, and the hair…

  “Oh, Merrimac, you can’t take Sam from me. I’m not ready.”

  “No,” Merrimac sighed agreement in my head, “not ready yet.” Winona pulled back from me. She was talking, but her mouth wasn’t moving. “You take so long to grow to maturity. Next year, perhaps?”

  “Still not without Sam.”

  “Sam’s going on a long journey, many dangers. Do you see all the paths? It would be better to make your baby now.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to see all the paths, but they went by too fast.

  “No, I only see Sam.” I put my head down next to him and watched him sleeping.

  The candles were still burning when I woke up again and Sam was snoring softly on my shoulder, drooling a little on my shirt, his head right where it had been after we had first toppled over into the blankets. My shirt. I touched the fabric, feeling the roughness.

  I whispered into the darkness. “Thank you, Merrimac. You are my friend.” I could hear a hooting sound from somewhere in the shadows and I slept a little longer, my arms around Sam’s shoulders, vowing to never let him go.

  “’Morning Duse, ready for breakfast?” Winona was sitting on the floor beside me and I felt a moment of sheer terror.

  She leaned in close to me and her eyes were almost black, just like they were supposed to be.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s alright. How did you find us?” I could feel Sam waking up, stretching, his toes playing with mine.

  “Well, I suspected you might come here. That and the display pad you borrowed still has the tracker turned on. I’ve been following you that way since you left the hotel.” She looked around at the office. “That paint really works. When I opened the door it must have been close to twenty in here.”

  I yawned. “What time is it?”

  “0630. If we hurry we can get back to the Mission before your mom does and then she won’t have to kill Cuza. And you. And Sam.”

  “Good morning, Winona.” Sam was leaned up on one elbow looking at her.

  “Are you dressed in there, Samuel?”

  “I am. What you see is pretty much how we spent the whole night.”

  “Excellent. I was worried about what would happen with Merrimac controlling everything.”

  “Merrimac is my friend,” I assured her.

  “Of course he is. I’ll wait downstairs while you get more fully dressed. Be quick about it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we answered together.

  It took a few minutes to find everything, and I needed Sam to help me with the top button on the dress.

  “You’re very quiet this morning.” His hands were warm when he touched my cheek. “I can’t even tell what you’re feeling. It’s all a big jumble.”

  “That’s because it is all a big jumble.” I was looking down chewing my lip. “I think I saved your life last night, after I killed you.”

  “Really? I don’t remember that part.”

  I told him what I remembered, all of it, including the Tarakana that had looked like Winona and talked to me without moving her mouth.

  Sam kissed me. “You know what I think? I think you’re still healing from the physical and psychological effects of being shot, general stress, too little sleep, and too much wine. Last night, when we were together,” he smiled and kissed me again, “when we were almost together, I think you fainted again. And we were so fully and intimately connected that I fainted right along with you. So instead of doing what we were planning on doing, we slept in each other’s arms all night.” He kissed me one more time, longer, softer. “I’m not complaining. It was wonderful.”

  “Humph. That’s your opinion as a biologist? You’ve seen what the Tarakana can do.”

  “I have, and they terrify me. The explanation I just gave you makes me feel better, because it’s human.”

  “So what do you really think happened?”

  He took my hand and we walked down the stairs together. “I think you saved my life.”

  Winona was looking desperate. “This is taking too long. Can you run?”

  I looked down at my boots. “Nope. Mom’s just going to have to kill us.”

  She sighed as we stepped out into bright morning sunshine, but I was happy. Sam was holding my hand, Winona was with me and even the Warrens felt like it was at peace.

  “Maybe I can tell her we were just out for a walk.” Winn was walking behind us working on contingency plans.

  I greeted a couple walking the other direction and they smiled and wished us a fine good Sunday morning. I turned to look at Winona without letting go of Sam, walking backwards with his arm across me. “Don’t bother, Winn. I’m going to tell mom everything, including where we were and what we did. I’m going to tell her exactly how many times Sam kissed me and where he kissed me, because I remember each and every one of them and I regret nothing.”

  She blinked at me. “You’re serious. You’d really do it.”

  I giggled. “If she asks me, but she won’t. My point, Winn, is that I don’t regret one second of what we did. I’m proud of my Samuel. If she wants to know that we spent the night in each other’s arms, then that’s fine. Even if we’d had sex, I’d tell her that too if she asked me, and I’d be proud that we’d done it. If there was enough time before he had to leave, I’d marry him.”

  Winona came to a full stop and I stumbled a little as I pulled Sam back to her. I could feel him smiling at me.

  “Are you OK, Winn?”

  She touched my face and then Sam’s. She was still blocking me from her emotions, but I could feel a mix of sad and happy fighting for dominance in her. “This is going to be difficult.”

  “What is?”

  She shook her head. “Since we’re not in a hurry any longer, do you mind if we stop somewhere for coffee? I chased the two of you most of the night. Kind of forgot to go to bed.”

  Winona was sleeping with her head tipped on my shoulder. Father Ryczek was close to the end of the service, so I’d have to wake her soon. It was too bad, really; she couldn’t block me while she was sleeping. I suppose I should have been listening to the sermon instead of exploring the complex swirl inside her brain. There were so many worries in there, and love kept appearing too, and a sense of relief. Mostly though, she was full of the comfortable, snuggly feeling she had from sleeping leaned against me.

  She woke to the final ‘amen’ during the benediction, stretching cat-like and yawning.

  “What’d I miss?”

  “God.”

  “Again?”

  “It’s alright. I’m sure the two of you will get together eventually.”

  “What’s next?”

  “Lunch and then rest. Father Ryczek won’t let me work on the solar arrays today because it’s Sunday.”

  “He must not know you very well. Messing around with high voltage systems is rest for you. And it would be safer than messing around with Sam till he leaves.” She glanced at him and they smiled at each other. “Where’s your folks?”

  “Working. They left half way through the service to resolve something that came up during negotiations. And please don’t remind me
that Sam is leaving. I want to enjoy the next three hours, thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds.

  “Be brave. Let’s get some lunch and then I want to see the array up on the roof.”

  After a lunch of potato Moussaka I was ready to rest and maybe nap. I wanted one last chance to lean my head on Sam’s shoulder and wrap his arms around me. Maybe pull a warm blanket over us so no one could see where his hands were.

  Instead, we were on the roof looking at composite mounting struts and silver-blue solar power elements. It didn’t take long for Sam to lose interest and find a spot along the wall where he could sit in the sun on the flagstones. I joined him a few minutes later and Winona sat in front of me, leaned back against my knees so I could braid her hair.

  “Can you stop time, Winn?”

  “Stop it?”

  “Yeah, I want to stop it, right here. I have you and Sam and a warm spot to sit in the sun on a cold winter’s day. Give me another minute and I’ll be asleep, another hour and I’ll be obsessing about how soon Sam is leaving, so stopping right now would be great.”

  “There’s war everywhere else. The Union is tearing itself apart, undoing generations of work and sacrifice.”

  “Their time can keep going. I want a bubble; a Winona, Samuel, Mala Dusa bubble. Can you do that?”

  She tipped her head back to look at me. “I wish I could. Enjoy every heartbeat, Duse, and have faith in tomorrow.”

  “See? I told you the two of you would get together.”

  It was two seconds later that Cuza found us and told Sam it was time to go. It might have been closer to two hours. Time had stopped having any meaning for me. There was only the time with Sam, and the time without Sam. The time without Sam was about to begin.

  Cuza drove him all the way to the terminal so that I could ride along. Sam and I held hands and then I kissed him until Cuza forced us apart.

  “MD?”

  “Yes, my love?” I wasn’t crying. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t cry.

  “Let’s see how long we can keep this connection, OK? And I’ll call you as soon as I’m settled on board.”

  I nodded. I wanted to reach for him again, but it was too late. He was walking away from me and I could feel the excitement building in him the closer he got to the RuComm shuttle on the other side of the door. He was also miserable and I could feel his love for me, but the mission was calling to him and I was so proud of him for not turning back to look at me one last time.

 

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