by C. S. Wilde
3
-Miriam-
“Wake up!” I slap his face tenderly, but his eyes don’t open. “Please wake up.” Tears fall down my cheeks as I stroke my husband’s face.
James lost consciousness when the water crushed us. I tried shielding us as much as I could, concentrating the air over him in a protective layer, but the force of the water might’ve pushed that air against him, knocking him unconscious.
I need to be reasonable. If I had failed, we’d be miles into the ocean by now, our bodies likely ripped apart by the rushing waters. And yet, we’re not even wet.
James frowns and starts to moan. “Mir?”
Praise the dimensions!
“I’m here,” I say, taking his hand.
When he’s fully back to himself, he mumbles, “The water...” James slowly sits up straight. He sways slightly and presses a hand over his forehead as if he was hit by a sudden migraine. “A-are you all right?”
“Now that you’re awake, yes.” The void in my chest slowly vanishes and I plant a kiss on his cheek. “I nearly killed you.”
He presses my hand against his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“How could you be sure? I was so scared! The water came crashing down and…” I choke, my speech blurred with tears.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He kisses the back of my hand, then gazes ahead at the receding waters and at the soggy sand filled with thrashing fish and seaweed. “You seriously need to control your orgasms. Am I that good?”
I slap his arm harshly. He’s obviously trying to calm me down, but this is no time for joking. “I was terrified!”
“So was I,” he says as we stand and pick up our king-sized towel from the sand—it’s wet in the corners I couldn’t shield from the water. All our belongings, which we left near the outskirts of the towel, are gone.
James wraps his arms around me, bringing me to him. “We’re okay now, Mir.”
Against his cold flesh I realize how badly I’m shaking. I rest my head over his chest, his heartbeat drumming in my ears. It’s the most glorious sound in the world. Humans like to thank several entities for good things. I never thought I’d be thanking all those entities right now.
He’s fine. He’s here with me.
James detaches from me and takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.”
We walk in silence, he holding my hand and me, still worried about the effects of the impact. James’ back is slightly red, purple in blotches where my shield was weak and the water pressed the air shield against his skin. Other than that and a limping leg, he seems fine. If only I had brought my diagnostic tool, then I could be sure.
“We should go to a hospital,” I mutter.
A rush of thoughts bursts in my mind—what’s wrong with me? How could I have almost killed the best thing that has ever happened to me?
James stops and gapes, his blue eyes wider than I’ve ever seen. “I heard that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No. Your thoughts. I heard them.” He hugs me and kisses my forehead. “It wasn’t your fault, Mir.”
He can hear my thoughts?
“I can,” he says, a mix of surprise and amusement in his face. “Apparently I can sense what you’re feeling too.”
I freeze where I stand, my limbs shaking. What on all the populated worlds is happening? Why can’t I control my abilities? I’ve always had control, always! And now I’m becoming one with the ocean, creating giant water domes, and giving James some of my mind reading? This situation borders on the impossible!
“I’m so sorry!” Tears pool at the corner of my eyes.
“It’s all right.” James brings me closer to him, holding me, and against him, I relax. Slightly. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Let’s call Chuck as soon as we’re back. He’ll know what to do.”
James doesn’t seem worried or scared. Something tells me that if I peek into his mind I’ll discover he’s as terrified as I am. But he’s trying to stay strong. For me.
I kiss his cold lips until they’re warm enough. James is home and where I belong. I almost lost him today, but now he’s safe and here with me.
For how long though?
***
Once we’re back in our hotel room, I connect with Chuck through the comm and he scans my brain activity. As he does, I look out the window, watching the waves gently hit the shore, expecting them to burst into the room and take us with them.
“You must calm yourself,” Chuck’s soothing voice comes from the other side.
When we were exiled on Earth, Chuck brought a few gadgets with him—illegally, I assume—and this is how we got our comms, little black dots the size of a blueberry. We stick them on our foreheads so we can sync our thoughts. Something akin to talking on the phone with our mind. And because of their functionality, the comms can easily scan brain activity.
“I’m certain that it’s nothing major,” Chuck says through the comm once the scan is done, “but a distressed state of mind could lead to another unexpected event.”
“Chuck, I created a giant dome of water that nearly killed me and my mate. How am I supposed to not feel distressed?”
I sense him nodding from the other side. “Strange, I agree, but glitches aren’t unheard of. For the meantime, try to enjoy your honeymoon. I’ll send the results as soon as I can.”
With that, he closes the channel.
I’ve known my mentor for long enough to know when he’s hiding something. I also know that it’s useless asking him for answers when he’s not ready to give them.
I felt an earthquake this morning, so the water dome was the second glitch in the last 24 hours. The third might be on its way. The thought alone makes my eye twitch.
“What did Chuck say?” James asks, dropping onto his side of the bed while I place the comm inside my purse.
“That we should enjoy our honeymoon.” Not exactly possible with this sense of impending doom swirling around me.
“The little guy can be wise when he wants to.” James winks at me and then checks his watch. “Wanna go for dinner?”
He simply cannot be so calm about all this. I need to know what’s happening in his mind. A quick peek reveals what I expected: he’s so very scared, all he wants to do is hug me and never let go, to shield me from this unknown threat.
“Thank you so much,” I say.
He sits up and scrubs his forehead. “You just read my mind, didn’t you?”
I nod, then sit by his side and rest a hand over his thigh. “You’re trying to be strong for me.”
He lays his hand over mine. “One of us has to keep it together and it shouldn’t be you.”
Leaving my kind to be with him was the best decision I’ve ever made.
“Could we order room service?” I ask. “I don’t wish to go out.”
“Mir—”
“If there had been anyone else on that beach today, they would have been crushed by the mass of water,” I say, my voice shattered, weak. “What if I have an episode in a restaurant full of people?”
“It’s been six hours. I can’t read your mind anymore.” He arches an eyebrow and smiles in a naughty way. “As long as you don’t have a mind-blowing orgasm, we’ll be okay.”
James is trying to make me feel better, but he got hurt. When that wall of water came rushing down…I can’t think about it. The mere idea of losing James cuts the pathways to my lungs. I can’t consider the what-ifs; the what-ifs are the end of my world.
He bites his lower lip. “Too early to be joking around?”
“I just prefer we stay here, if that’s okay.”
He stares at me for a moment, as if waiting for me to change my mind. Then he says, “Your wish is my command, wife.”
He jumps out of bed and grabs the menus. We decide for three club-sandwiches, one for me and two for James. Shortly after, three knocks on the door announce that our dinner is here.
As we eat in bed, James more swallows than eats h
is food, but that’s because he could have a black hole in his stomach. His frantic metabolism is a wonder within itself. At one point, he stares at the floor, munching his sandwich on autopilot. His eyes are dark and somber as if something inside him broke. “You were gone today.”
“What do you mean?”
“You weren’t reacting to me, just staring ahead. It wasn’t like you were unconscious, more like you were… dead.” His voice fails, and he clears his throat. “I never felt so scared in my life.”
My food sinks harshly down my throat. I softly squeeze his hand. “I was scared too, but at the same time, the whole experience was sort of liberating.” James’ wide eyes tell me I’ve lost my mind, so I add, “It’s hard to explain.”
His mouth shapes a small O that’s quickly replaced by a thin line. He attempts a soft nod, as if he’s trying to hide all his worry. “Try me.”
“Well… ” I hesitate for a moment. “Toward the end, it all became rather marvelous. I could feel everything beneath the water: currents, life forms, shifting temperatures, it was all inside me.” A giddy sensation bursts in my chest at the memory. “Like I was all the life in the ocean, no, I was the ocean.”
James gawks at me. “You enjoyed it?”
“Enjoy is the wrong word.” I tap my bottom lip with my finger, trying to find the best way to describe it. “I was connected to the ocean on every possible level. It’s so much information that I got… lost, I suppose.”
“So your mind was kind of absorbed by the ocean?”
With a shrug, I say, “That would be the best way to describe it.”
His shoulders slump and his eyebrows knit.
“But I heard you,” I say, leaning closer to him. “Your voice brought me back.”
His brow raises and his eyes shine slightly. “So, I was your anchor?”
“Indeed you were.” I wink at him. “You saved me, James Bauman, like you always do.”
He blushes, a shy grin hooking up his left cheek. “Well, I am your nerd-in-shining-armor...”
I place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Isn’t that the best kind of nerd?”
It’s my turn to be strong now, even if his words still echo in my mind, leaving an empty spot in my chest. “It wasn’t like you were unconscious, more like you were… dead.”
4
-James-
I wake in the middle of the night with my bare chest heaving up and down, hair plastered against my forehead. A nightmare, though I can’t remember what it was... something with fire and stars, and then it was gone.
I reach for Miriam, but find empty sheets. “Mir?”
No answer. I sit up and turn on the bedside light. “Miriam?”
Nothing. Where did she go?
With blood pumping wildly, I stand up and turn on the main lights. “Miriam?”
The bathroom door is open, but she’s not there. I check the porch, empty. Nothing but dark waves crashing in the distance.
Something cracks inside my chest. Why did she leave?
I scan the room, trying to figure this out. My brain warns me something’s off, but what?
The bedsheets look odd. From this angle, the wrinkles on the sheets shape an oval form… a face? I approach and squint. My eyes can’t be right.
The white sheets lay casually on the bed, but some of the wrinkles shape a face, a straight nose, closed eyes and a mouth.
Miriam’s face.
The rest of her body is completely blended with the smooth surface of the sheets, not even a crinkle shaping her waist, chest or legs. The wrinkles do return at the end of the cloth, shaping feet, almost as if Miriam is taking a bath and only her face and feet are above the surface.
I stumble backwards, frantic breaths shooting out of my lungs. Memories of a storm of water breaking over me flash in my mind. I’m helpless, again. My stomach lurches and my legs weaken.
Focus, James. Miriam needs you.
I gather my shit together and kneel by her side of the bed. “Mir?” Nothing. “Listen to me, baby, please.” My voice crackles, warm tears trickling slowly down my face. “I’m your anchor, remember?”
Her two-dimensional eyes move under their lids. The wrinkle that used to be her mouth utters a groan.
“That’s it, wake up,” I whisper, trying to touch her cheeks, but instead, I stroke rough fabric. “Please come back to me, please.”
“James?” she asks.
Gradually, the sheets’ flattened surface inflates like a balloon, shaping her hair, head, and naked body. Her nightgown comes next, but Miriam is still made of white fabric. Her skin remains blended with the sheets on the outskirts of her body. Then the white surface is replaced by her rosy complexion, the brown of her hair and the blue of her gown. Just as her head, chest, and waist detach from the fabric, she opens her eyes. She frowns, and I immediately wipe the tears off my face.
“Why are you crying?” She looks down and finds her legs still connected to the sheets, right at the breaking point.
She shrieks and jumps out of bed, stumbling and dragging the sheets with her, until the cloth unmerges from her skin and pools at her feet.
“James!” she cries. “What’s happening to me?”
I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. She’s shaking so much. “I-I don’t know.”
Be strong for her. She needs you.
I steady my nerves and ignore the sense of helplessness that overcomes me. “We’ll find out, okay?” I gently lift Miriam’s chin to see tears falling down her face. I kiss them away, and at this Miriam relaxes a little. “Everything will be fine, I promise.”
But I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep.
5
-Miriam-
Chuck calls in the morning through the comm. “You need to come back, Miriam. Now.”
James and I take the next flight back home, and after a good night’s sleep—thank you, sleeping pills—we drive to Chuck’s place.
I’ve been mulling over the episodes, trying to find a common denominator. The only one I can come up with is sexual arousal. When I felt the earthquake, I was still thinking about James naked in bed. The episode at the beach happened shortly after our lovemaking. Surely I must’ve had an exciting dream about us that night, and this caused me to merge with the sheets.
A little voice at the back of my brain reminds me that I dreamed about home, Whisa-thar, before what happened with the sheets; that there’s more to the episodes than I want to see.
“No,” I mutter to myself. “Arousal has to be the trigger,”
James keeps his eyes on the road, his grip steady on the wheel. “Has to?”
I nod. “One common denominator makes solving this entire situation much easier.”
“Easy isn’t always right.” We stop at a red light and he cups my hand. “We were together for six months before the wedding. We had plenty of sex back then and nothing happened.”
“Something obviously changed in the meantime.” I pull my hand from his and cross my arms. I can’t decide if I’m annoyed because I think he’s right, or if it’s because the solution isn’t as simple as I had hoped for. “I had zero episodes on our way home, precisely because I haven’t been aroused since then,” I say, mostly to convince myself.
The light changes to green and the car moves forward.
“Maybe you’re right, but what could’ve changed?” He shifts gears. “I’m no expert, but it’d take something pretty big to cause all of this.” He winks at me. “No pun intended.”
Yes, he’s indeed no expert, as he said. Humans know nothing about telekinesis, and that’s exactly what he can say about all of this: nothing!
He clears his throat and keeps focusing on the street. “Just wanted to make you smile.” The muscles on his forearm bulge as he grips the steering wheel tighter.
Oh, no. “Your telepathy is back?”
A sad smile hooks on his left cheek. “Right at the best of times.”
Damn the dimensions.
“I’m s
o sorry.” My voice is a whimper. “I didn’t mean to say that you know nothing, it’s just that—”
“It’s okay,” he grunts with clenched jaws, which means it’s not okay at all.
The last thing I want is to hurt the most important person in my life. “James…”
His hard expression, facing ahead and never turning to me, breaks my heart. It feels like he’s building a wall between us. “This isn’t easy on me either, Miriam.”
By all the stars in the universe, he’s so upset.
Perhaps he’s right, arousal isn’t the cause. After all, James can listen to my thoughts again, which constitutes a strange event, and yet, I’m far from aroused.
James lifts an eyebrow and sends me a crooked smile. “You want me to pull over and change that?”
I slap his shoulder gently, smiling back at him. “Oh, you impossible man.”
Perhaps I’m focusing on the wrong details. The strangest aspect about the episodes was the reactions, not the cause, whatever it may be. My consciousness merged with the ocean and my body merged with the sheets. No mental connection known to whisars could cause such a thing.
“Maybe it was a variant of telekinesis,” James says. “Like morphingnesis or something.”
I’m so glad he’s on better terms with me already, but I’ll never get used to him reading my mind.
“Yeah.” He clicks his tongue. “Now you know how it feels.”
Failing miserably at holding a smile, I counter, “Well, it’s absolutely terrible.”
He winks at me in a dapper way. “You’ll get used to it.”
Oh, James. Only you could make me smile right now.
***
The dirt road ahead ventures into a forest. We go on for half an hour until we reach tall golden gates that cut into the woods left and right.
A short cemented tower stands on our left with an intercom attached to the top.
“Identify yourself,” demands the robotic tune that bursts from the device, which has been enhanced with voice recognition technology.
Technically, Chuck doesn’t need all this safeguarding. Whisars want to forget that we exist, which means no galactic threats would fall upon us. And since he can read minds, he would know who’s out here, rendering the intercom useless. But as humans say, better safe than sorry.