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09/11/2007
Fourteen
Julie walks SAM’s cold matrix with unease. No longer sparkling, the crystal walkway under her feet ripples as if alive and she feels her stomach twist with alarm. As the cloying wind blows into her face like an old man’s putrid breath, Julie knows she will see the dark figure again. Feet moving mechanically, against her will, she rounds the corner and encounters the dark figure. It beckons her and she recoils, but skids uncontrollably forward. Trying not to look into the shadowy face, she demands in a splintering voice, What do you want with me?
[You must not struggle, Julie Crane. It is time to complete the joining . . .]
Never! Leave me alone! Shuddering, she’s drawn nearer to the figure still. Its arms reach out for her and she cringes, knowing somehow that if it touches her she will perish. The cowl of the figure’s robe falls back, revealing its face. Her own face, strangely distorted. NO!
Julie bolted awake to her own outcry. Blinking away the sleep and sweat clouding her vision, she realized that she was lying on a comfortable bed, covered in soft sheets. Heart still pounding, she pulled in a ragged breath as she untangled the turmoil of post-dream emotions that poured through her. That had been less a dream than vision . . . or communication. A jolt of adrenalin surged up her chest. If that was Darwin creeping unbidden into her mind, intruding . . . What did Proteus want?
Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she raised herself on an elbow and surveyed herself and the room. She was wearing a silky nightdress and she wasn’t in a Med-Center. The room was too nice, containing expensive furniture and personally decorated with art. She saw a desk with a Vee-com, and a glass door to a patio outside, revealing a sunny day. There was no sign of her old heath clothes. They’d probably been recycled, she thought sadly.
Julie sat up, feeling completely strengthened. A quick inspection revealed that her arm was totally healed. Nuergery and Icaria’s wonderful nano-drugs, no doubt. She ran her hands over her bare arms and legs and confirmed nuyu-smooth skin. Cuts, tears and scars had been healed and she was smoother than she’d ever been. She was reminded of the first time she’d been treated without being asked, when she’d been brought back to the outer-city after searching unsuccessfully for her lost sister. They’d straightened her teeth then. She wondered what they’d done to her this time. Coloured her hair? She pulled a strand in front of her eyes to inspect and smiled with relief. No, they’d left her sun-streaked hair alone.
As she focused outward she noticed someone seated quietly in a chair near one of two closed doors. It was Frank. Arms folded over his chest and one leg crossed loosely over his thigh, he was looking directly at her with a thoughtful look and eyes the colour of a stormy sea. He smiled cautiously when he noticed her looking at him.
She tilted her head and returned his smile with a wry one. “You the guard?”
He smirked. “To keep the notorious Julie Crane from rampaging Icaria, you mean?”
She let her smile fade. “Something like that.” The last time she’d seen him, she had been tearing around Icaria and half the Pols chasing her, with Frank, barely mended from her shot, leading the pack.
He nodded soberly then turned the chair around and sat down again, folding his arms over the backrest. “Wrong. Like you were about a lot of things back then.”
“So it seems,” she returned, thinking about Darwin. Was it possible she’d misread him that time when he and Vadim’s gang had cornered her and Daniel in that inner-city mall?
“Oh, I had Darwin, all right,” he answered her unspoken question with a glower. “Pretty bad, too. But miracles do happen in Icaria.”
She wondered how that had been possible. Had Burke managed to find a cure that fast? The bitterness she’d detected in Frank’s voice . . . Did he blame her for his sickness?
“So,” he said with a frosty smile, “imagine my delight the day I dutifully gave Burke your data cube and discovered that I’d been infected with Darwin by none other than Prometheus herself ~”
“Frank, I didn’t know until after we broke up that I was Prometheus . . . and I don’t think I passed it ~”
“Yes, the woman who willingly exchanged her bodily fluids with me ~ for months ~ without telling me that she had Darwin ~”
“I didn’t know!”
“Then left me once she was sure I was dying from it.” He leaned forward. “You knew all the signs, sweetheart.” His smile grew surly. “Elegant revenge ~ I couldn’t have done it better myself.”
They’d each had reason to invoke revenge: Frank’s father had arrested hers for a murder he didn’t commit, and Julie’s father had supposedly incriminated his as a Dystopian, which he wasn’t. Both had died maligned.
She gave up trying to convince him that she hadn’t known. The information on the cube had incriminated her. She’d have a hard time proving that she’d only discovered herself that she was Prometheus after they’d broken up. SAM had provided evidence to suggest that she couldn’t pass it on. But Frank wouldn’t listen to that ~ he was too set on blaming her. And maybe he was right.
“But, just like you escaped execution, I escaped death. Not only did I defeat Darwin in me,” he went on, “I’m now the Head Pol.” He laughed sharply at her stunned expression. “So, no harm done, eh?” he ended in a mock cavalier voice. She had no response for that and bowed her head.
After some silence, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
She looked up to meet his eyes. “Much better, thank you,” she said honestly and searched his face for genuine forgiveness. She couldn’t find it.
“That was some nightmare you just had,” he said, obviously expecting her to elaborate.
She didn’t. “How long have I been here?”
“Since yesterday. You were in the Pielou Med-Center for two days until I had you returned here. Don’t you remember anything?”
She blinked with a thoughtful frown and let her gaze drift as she sifted through fragments of memories . . . or dreams . . . or feverish visions . . . it was hard to separate them, they all ran together like a water-colour painting left in the rain. They churned in a maelstrom of burning images and sensations. Blistering pain flaming through her ~ that was real. Bright lights hurting her eyes . . . foreign faces peering at her and discussing her by name . . . sighing into a soft pillow and being held in a warm embrace . . . inhaling a man’s scent . . . hearing Daniel’s soothing whispers ~ that had to be a dream . . . or was it? Her narrowed eyes snapped to Frank’s.
“Seems you do remember,” he said with a smirk as her expression of confusion bloomed into distress with understanding. “That’s my bed you’re in,” he ended, openly appraising her with smug pleasure. “This is my office suite and you bathed in my bathtub.” He pointed to the other door. But he was looking elsewhere.
She followed his devouring gaze to where her skimpy nightdress revealed the contours of her breasts. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she brought the sheet up over her. As if in response to her action, his eyes narrowed. Was he insulted by her sudden coyness? During their torrid affair years ago when he was a Pol in the Shadow Unit, he had never taken her home. Now she was lying in his bed. Had he lain beside her delirious body last night? And touched her? Of course he had. She felt her anger spike like a hot knife twisting inside her. “You took advantage of me.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said pointedly. “But I could have.”
“By who’s definition ~”
“So, after all these years why did you decide to come back?” he demanded.
“Decide?” she retorted, straightening up in the bed. “I was kidnapped by your cronies. Tyers, who works under Dykstra, I take it works for you as a Secret Pol.”
“But you wanted to come back,” Frank insisted, avoiding her question. “Tyers said you’d abandoned your family and were heading for Icaria-5.”
Julie swallowed and wondered if she’d imagined his voice soften with compassion. She couldn’t trust him with the truth . . . yet. “I had my reasons.”
He studied her for a moment, then straightened suddenly as if he’d made a decision. “Well.” His voice was crisp again. “You look well enough to take a journey.” He stood up and tossed her the Com-Center clothes and turned toward the door. “Get dressed.”
“What about my other clothes?” she blurted out. “The clothes I came in?”
He didn’t turn or answer her. “I’ll get Tyers ~”
“Wait ~ Frank. Please,” she said, pleading. “Why am I here? What do you want of me?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, turning his head only slightly to speak to her. He left the room and the door shut behind him with a soft nick.
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