Pygmalion

By DocPaul

Chapter Thirty-three: Elsewhere

I love the time and in between

the calm inside me in the space

where I can breathe

I believe there is a distance

I have wandered to touch upon the years of

reaching out and reaching in

holding out

holding in.

I believe this is heaven

to no one else but me

and I'll defend it as long as

I can be left here to linger

in silence if I choose to

would you try to

understand.

I know this love is passing time

passing through like liquid

I am drunk in my desire

but I love the way you smile at me

I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near..

I believe..

I believe this is heaven

to no one else but me

and I'll defend it as long as

I can be left here to linger

in silence if I choose to

would you try to

understand.

Oh the quiet child awaits the day

when she can break free

the mold that clings like desperation.

Mother

can't you see I've got to

live my life the way I feel is right for me

might not be right for you but it's

right for me..

I believe...

I believe

this is heaven

to no one else but me

and I'll defend it as long as

I can be left here to linger in silence

if I choose to would you

try to understand it.

I would like to linger here in silence

if I choose to

would you try to

understand…

~Sarah McLachlan~

Day Forty-seven: Saturday, 1:32 am

“Long day?”

“Interminably.” Jonathan tossed his jacket on the bench next to the door. “God, Max. I had to stop at my place, and the call of my bed was almost too much. We need to make some decisions here. Maybe at least agree to combine our lives into one home.”

Max stood up and stretched. “I guess that is another point on the agenda, huh?”

Jonathan sat on the bench and rubbed his face hard. “Yeah. I tried to contact Vanessa. She’s strangely absent, and that wasn’t something I expected. I need to take care of her first.”

“You want to talk about the other night?”

Jonathan looked up at Max. Closing his eyes, he could still see it. Feel it. He couldn’t concentrate enough to offer Max anything. Not a link. Not even an explanation. It was beyond him at this moment. This was something he could never have expected. How could he? How could anyone?

“I listened to Michael, and it made sense. It just made sense.”

“You focused for me.”

“Yes.” Jonathan held out his hands, staring at them as if they were foreign to him.‘

“It hurt, didn’t it?”

Jonathan looked up at Max. He got that much back? “Yeah, it hurt. Not at first. But later. It was like walking with hundreds of pounds on my back through quicksand. Every pull of my leg was like my last. A slow dying drag.”

Max stopped in front of Jonathan and squatted down on his haunches, his hands resting on Jonathan’s knees as he looked down on at the floor. “I’m sorry. I felt you going. I felt how much it pulled on you, and I couldn’t stop. Even knowing…I couldn’t stop.”

“What happened exactly?”

Max stood up and paced the floor in front of Jonathan. “At best, we think that you are for me like Maria is for Michael. You are a person who can focus things. You take my alien powers and control them into separate, real, distinct strands. Like a prism.”

“The ribbons,” said Jonathan in a soft voice.

“You saw that?” Max dragged Jonathan up by his hand and led him into the living room. “What did you see? What did it look like to you?”

“I don’t know. It was like suddenly I was in this corridor, almost a tunnel. Black. So very dark. Maria took my hand, and I felt this surge of energy and light. I felt….clean.” Jonathan tried to think of words that could explain it all. “Then I felt you. I felt the power, and it pushed through me, almost like a warm flood. The ribbons were snaking around my feet.” Jonathan laughed. “Hell, I don’t even know if I had feet! But when they touched me, I could feel their talent…the power they exude.”

“The yellow one. You told me to pick up the yellow one. That’s how you knew.”

Jonathan leaned back on the sofa next to Max his head leaning back. “Yeah, I knew.”

“Did you feel the healing, or…”

“Max?” Jonathan turned his head and looked at Max. “I’m sorry. I know you’re fascinated and want to ask questions, but if I don’t find a bed to collapse on face down in the next few moments, I’m not moving.”

Max’s neck took on a redder coloring. Of course Jonathan was tired. He had slept over thirty-six hours, burned out, and then just spent over twelve trying to catch up on a missed day of work. “Right. Let me help you get to bed.”

“Whatever is in my bank account is yours if you would just dump me into a hot shower.” Max chuckled as he steered Jonathan to the back room. They always found a way to finally have that talk. Maybe in the next few days. It was the weekend.

~~~

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Maria shrugged. “Maybe, if you pass the French Onion dip.”

“Uh uh. No way am I watching you eat it smeared on your pizza.” Jacob searched her face. She was tired. It had been a long trip from Roswell to Phoenix and he didn’t believe for a moment that she drove the speed limit. “Maria?”

“What?” She peeked over at him. “Fine! So we had a fight this morning, but that’s not the reason I’m here. I have better ways to torture the Detective than that.”

“I used to be your roommate. I know all those ways.” Jacob searched for another piece of pizza that hadn’t been destroyed by Maria’s strange taste. “So really tell me what’s going on with you. Last time I looked in on the never-ending saga of ‘Maria meets Michael, Fucks Him Hard, Wins His Heart, Gets Knocked Up, and Finally Married’, it was a pretty happy one.”

“Well, I sort of screwed that all up a little today, but I’m more than happy to admit I’m wrong. But something came up. Something I need help looking into by a masterful researcher, top ace archaeologist, and an all around good guy.”

Jacob thought about it. “Damn. I am so close to those descriptors. Hmm. Masterful researcher. Me. Top ace archaeologist. Oh damn, me again! All around good guy? Hmmm, me, me, and me.” Jacob threw himself down next to her. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

Maria laughed and pushed him over. “Tomorrow. I’m getting ready to crash. But here’s some light reading.” Maria shoved all the hard data she gathered earlier into his hands. She struggled to her feet from the pile of cushions she had been sitting in.

“What is this, M?”

“You tell me. I call it ‘The Mystery That is Me’.” She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Sleep. Perchance to dream.” She took herself off, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist a mystery.

~~~

The battle raged on the plain below the battle escarpment. Royal forces moved forward along the ridge, taking the higher ground and holding off the advancements of the encamped invaders. Solar winds blew across the field, drenching it in fire. The sky darkened into a deep crimson as red as the blood of the fallen.

“You will have to retreat.”

“There will be no retreat. I refuse.”

She turned to the man, his face dark and angry, marring his looks with those heavy and malicious glares. Kivar. He stood viewing the battle with his hands clasped behind his back. Sighing, Vilandra watched the field. Smiling slightly she had to admit that perhaps she had backed the wrong warrior on the field. Rath was moving hard and fast. His men were teaching Kivar’s armies a lesson in brutal warfare.

“Call Nicolas. I told him to take the ridge.” Kivar said.

“He can’t. Rath is holding the ground. Your men will lie slaughtered at his feet,” Vilandra observed. Masterful. This was a poor choice of engagement. “I told you that you would need to circle around. He holds the advantage.”

“Silence!” Kivar looked at his lover. Her mouth was drawn up in almost a sneer, and her regard was unwavering. If nothing else, she shared Rath’s ability to analyze a battle. “Either you’re with me, or you can marry that upstart.”

Vilandra moved in closer. “Perhaps I should. My brother is killing your armies almost without effort. Nicolas is powerless before him. Rath left Temeric burning. He poisoned the ground and polluted the water in his wake. His home world of Celzia repels all invaders. Every warrior sent there to invade has been returned to us. Or should I say, their heads have returned. The remaining bodies have not.”

Nicolas entered the command tent. “Sire?”

“I told you to push him back.”

“He will not yield.”

Kivar turned his malice on the man before him as Vilandra watched with amused spite. Nicolas, a dog nipping biter. He always thought more of himself than he should. “I do not ask what he will do. I tell you what you will do. Send in the air fighters.”

Vilandra started to open her mouth to comment, but Nicolas beat her to it.

“The winds will burn them in the air and ignite the fuel cells. Rath knows that these conditions would keep all air tactical grounded.”

Kivar looked at Vilandra. Grabbing her close, he looked down into her beautiful face. “Tell me, my Lady, what is it that you see?”

Vilandra’s arms went around his neck as she stared at the battlefield. “This day will be his. Another victory. Trying to meet my brother matching might to might is a mistake. You will need to attack from behind, where he is vulnerable. His exposed underbelly. Rath leaves little to chance, but he too can be upset.”

“Does he know that Zan has ordered your marriage to him?”

Vilandra laughed bitterly. “No. Not yet. Obviously! He will be so enraged I expect nothing will remain alive in his wake. I almost feel a pleasure to tell him. He will fight it. It might be the break you need to separate him from Zan. Without Rath’s armies, all my brother, the King, has, is the Granilith. Nothing else. His might is in Rath, and Rath alone.”

“Rath is a bitch. Had only you and he not had this feud of a lifetime. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to call him a half-breed when we were children?”

“He is not of pure blood. The insult is that he would sit on the throne before me! I, of full descent, sitting behind a mixed breed mistake.” Vilandra’s anger raged as it did her entire life. “First to sit watching the King,” she spat, “so full of himself and his policies, none which make an ounce of sense, except to his own betterment. Then to have my place in ascension displaced by a mongrel!”

Kivar smiled maliciously. It was her anger that had fueled their alliance and their love affair. He nodded to Nicolas. “I will send Nicolas to Zan as an envoy to terms. You will accompany him. I want you there when Rath hears the news of his engagement. Be sure to make him feel the exact extent of just how unpleasant life with you can be.”

“Oh, he knows.” Vilandra whispered in Kivar’s ear. “Must I go with the troll? He stares at me.”

“Nicolas will do my bidding. He will talk to Zan, and then he will bring me back Zan’s answer. You stay in the citadel. I will come for you there.” Kivar held her close to his side. “It will all come to pass, you’ll see. The throne of Antar will be yours, my Queen.”

Vilandra smiled and kissed him, looking back one last time before she went through the door with Nicolas.

~~~

Isabel sat up in bed panting. Her body was covered in sweat, but her hands felt ice cold. She could still taste the red soil in her mouth and feel the hot winds burning her skin. Careful not to wake Alex, she slid from the bed and went downstairs. Standing in the dark, she took down a glass and filled it with cold water.

A shadow moved in the dark, watching her.

~~~

Alex’s eyes snapped open as she left the room. Sitting up in the bed, he rubbed the back of his neck trying to clear the dream. Kivar. Nicolas. Vilandra. It was as hazy as the skies of that world. She was unaware that she was pulling him into her dreams, but he witnessed them. He saw her. Vilandra.

Alex left the bed and slowly went down the stairs to check on Isabel. She seemed increasingly disturbed by the dreams, but she wasn’t talking about them. He was watching her drinking her water, when the stillness of the loft caught his attention. Pausing on the stairs, his ears tuned to a sound at his right. No time. He kept a gun, but it wasn’t on him. He couldn’t go retrieve it and leave Isabel unguarded.

Moving in the shadows, he concentrated on the perpetrator’s breath. On the intake, he moved slowly forward. At exhale he paused. Circling, he could see the darkening of a shadow, the movement of black on black. Isabel seemed to be contemplating a snack. Timing her opening the refrigerator door and flooding the room with light, Alex stepped back behind the figure.

Isabel opened the door and stood surveying the leftovers thoughtfully. Hmm. Chinese takeout. Parker wouldn’t mind if she polished off the pork. Eggrolls? Damn, all gone. Isabel never could say what drew her attention. Maybe a feeling more than anything else. Turning slightly, sure it was Alex, Isabel saw a figure emerge from the shadows lightened into a soft gloom.

Courtney.

The two women stood staring at each other. Isabel’s hands raised defensively. “Who are you?” She squinted in the gloom, hitting a light switch and the loft lights came on. “I know you! The female  detective…Carol.”

“Courtney.”

“What are you doing in my home?” Isabel saw Alex behind Courtney, but he gestured her to not make any move or indication that he was there. “If you’re looking for one of my brothers, you seem to have made a wrong turn.”

“I came looking for you.”

Isabel’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get into the loft? It has an excellent security system.”

Courtney smiled without amusement. “The same way you could if you needed to. I used my powers. I’ve been watching and coming in and out of your home for the past few days.”

“You’re an alien.” Isabel said stating the obvious.

“Actually, a Skin.” Courtney picked up a magazine and tossed it aside. “Not just any kind of Skin. A Dissident. My group follows your brother Rath, Vilandra.”

A frown marred Isabel’s face at the name Vilandra. The name from her dreams. “Vilandra? I know that name.”

“You should.” Courtney walked slowly towards Isabel. “It was once yours. In another life. In another world. Antar.” She smiled without amusement. “You were a most hated, heinous bitch.”

“Oh? Good to know I left an impression.” Isabel’s eyes narrowed in anger. “And who were you, little tramp?”

“My name was Denira. Courtney was the name of the host DNA from which my husk was made.. I liked my old name better. After over sixty years on this planet, with this name and the same face, I find that I miss many things.”

Isabel looked down on Courtney with a haughty look of disdain. “Too bad they gave you such a bad body. Or were you the army’s pass around whore? Taking care of everyone’s needs?”

“I was a soldier!” Courtney’s rage etched harshly on her face. Youth was a gift from her husk, but under it was the gray of age.

“In Rath’s army? Ah, a Michael-follower.” Isabel shut the refrigerator door discreetly watching Alex move forward a little at the same time that the door slammed. “So what? My other brother not good enough to be your King?”

“Zan?” Courtney sneered. “Hardly.”

“So why are you here? Why am I so honored?”

Courtney moved closer to Isabel with Alex following. “Well, it’s like this, Vilandra. You were a treacherous bitch in your last life. You betrayed your people, your brothers, and your King for Kivar. You were the reason they died. And we’d rather not have you so close to the Commander and his growing family, especially not his mate. You, Vilandra, are a problem.”

“The Commander?” Isabel said, her eyes narrowing at the description and information Courtney was giving her. She betrayed her brothers? “Michael? You’re talking about Michael and Maria?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I hurt my brother and his wife? His unborn children?” Isabel asked horrified.

Courtney sneered at Isabel. “Why would you do it in your last lifetime? Being related to you never did anything for them, but cause their deaths. You backed Kivar, and since your death there has been nothing but destruction, pain, and more death. I’d almost wish for that idiot King Zan to return.”

“I’m not her! I am not Vilandra!” Isabel screamed. “You don’t know me. I would never hurt my brothers! Never.”

Courtney shook her head. “I’d like to think that. I’d like to believe it. But I met your Dupe, Lonnie. She is as vicious and self-serving as Vilandra was. A chip off the old block.” Courtney slowly started to raise her hand. “Something survives. Vilandra. She lives in you, waiting. Sleeping. We can’t take the chance. Not again!” Courtney made her move.

“Hey!” Alex yelled behind her, distracting Courtney who turned away from Isabel. Her powers, misdirected, hit a wall and left a smoldering mark.

Turning to face Alex, Courtney moved to attack him when he feinted out of the way, but not soon enough. Her blast struck him on the right side of his body. As he hit the floor. Isabel screamed, and Courtney turned back to her. Isabel’s powers hit her full force, flinging her back. Wounded, Courtney struggled to her feet and faced Isabel once more. It was that easy to kill a husk. Isabel stood, uncertain what else to do to protect herself.

The front of Courtney’s husk was peeling and the dryness spread over her body as essential moisture supplies were damaged and wasting. In one last attempt at completing her duty, Courtney turned her power on Isabel to take her with her to death.

Isabel stood in shock when Courtney disappeared in a rain of dust. As the cloud cleared, she stood staring at Alex covered in his own blood, a scorch mark to his right shoulder, almost his heart, and covered in what was once Courtney. In almost an impossibly long moment Alex slowly collapsed in a dying heap.

~~~

Michael was asleep on the sofa with the cat on his head, when the banging on the glass door of the dining room woke him. Moving through the dark room, he cursed as he stubbed his toe on the side of a chair. “Isabel!”

Isabel grabbed his hand. “It’s Alex! He’s dead! He’s dying! You’ve got to help me!” Isabel tried to pull him out with her.

Sean came out of the bedroom wearing boxers and holding his gun. “What? Is it Maria? Did…” Sean noticed a frantic Isabel. “What’s going on?”

“Alex! Some alien hurt Alex! Hurry!” Isabel ran back through the garden to her home. Michael followed with Sean on his heels. “Hurry!”

Michael went through the door and immediately saw Alex on the floor. Turning him over, he looked up at Sean. “Call Max now! Tell him to bring Jonathan.” Sean grabbed the phone and started dialing while Isabel was on the floor with Alex’s head in her lap. She was crying and talking to Michael. They could hardly understand a word she was saying.

“Izzy! Iz! Where is the alien?” Isabel made a gesture, her voice still broken and mixed with her tears. Michael gave up. He looked down at Alex. His chest was a mess. Michael carefully moved Alex’s shirt from his chest. Aw, shit!

The blast didn’t hit him mid-chest full center which would have taken out his heart, killing him immediately. But it had hit him high on the right shoulder, and it must have damaged some major blood vessels. His upper chest and arm were a mass of blood and burns. This was bad. Real bad. Isabel saw the damage, and she cried harder. Michael checked his pulse. It was slow, faltering, and Michael looked up at Sean in concern. He was going to make it. There was too much damage. He survived long enough to protect Isabel.

Sean was talking on the phone to Max. He hung up and nodded. Max was on his way. “He’s coming as fast as he can.” He knelt down beside Isabel. “How is he?”

“Not good.” Michael looked at Isabel, trying to distract her. “Iz, where is Parker?”

Isabel wiped her eyes and looked up at the closed bedroom door belonging to Liz. “I don’t know. She had a date, and I don’t think she came home.” Isabel leaned down over Alex, kissing his forehead whispering to him.

“What happened here?” Sean asked.

Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t get hardly a coherent word out of her.” He tried to get Isabel’s attention again, but she was too busy whispering to Alex and crying. “Sean, check the loft. Make sure no one is here.” Michael swore. What was he thinking sending Sean searching for a killer alien? “Carefully! Search carefully!” Michael watched as Sean went up the stairs. He could hear a siren in the night. Max. It had to be Max. Leaving Isabel, he went and opened the front door for Max and Jonathan.

“Michael!”

“Maxwell, hurry!”

The three men rushed back into the room, they both stopped in shock to see Alex sitting up on his own. Alex? Isabel was sitting back from him in surprise. Her hands were at her side as she slowly stood up, and Alex tried to clear his head. He was still hurt. His head felt like it was somewhere else. Struggling in pain, and wavering on his feet, he tried to hold himself up.

“I thought you said that he was dying,” said Max.

Sean was paused on the stairs. “He was. He was dying. Almost dead.”

“What happened? Alex…” Michael suddenly was uncertain. Was Alex an alien?

“It wasn’t him.” Sean said. “It was Isabel. She healed him. I saw it.”

~~~

Alex was upstairs showering. Max checked him over. There was a little damage that Isabel hadn’t cleaned up, but she had taken care of the major injuries well enough that he actually survived until Max got there.

“How did you do it, Iz?” Max asked quietly.

Isabel shook her head. “I don’t know. I was talking to him, seeing him slipping away, and you were too far away. God, Max! I love him! I can lose him. I remember putting my hand on his wound, and I told him to come back to me. Not to leave me. Then he gasped out aloud, and suddenly his eyes were open.”

Sean nodded. “That’s what I saw too.” Sean picked up one of Isabel’s hands in wonder. “Her hand heated up, and the torn flesh miraculous healed. If she hadn’t, Alex would’ve been dead.”

“It makes sense,” Michael said. “I’ve healed Maria a few times, not really aware I was doing it. Nothing like you did for Kyle, Max. Smaller stuff.” Michael shook his head. “I can’t heal at the same level as you or Isabel, but obviously you are the stronger healer of us all.”

The three aliens looked at each other. Max was the first to smile. He grabbed his sister and hugged her tight, as Michael watched the two of them a little to the side until Isabel pulled him into the hug as well. Life was strange.

Alex came down the stairs and seemed self conscious that the others were staring at him. “What? Did I grow another head or something?”

Isabel smiled. “I’m just happy to see the head you’ve always had alive and talking.” Alex stopped and kissed her hand. His eyes searched her face worried about how she was taking it all. God damn! She healed him. Saved his life. Resurrection. Now that he didn’t see.

“So can someone finally tell us where the hell the alien went?” Michael asked. Hell, it was getting late. He had fallen asleep on the sofa after talking to Maria, and now this.

“I told you, over there.” Isabel said gesturing to the floor again. The all looked over at the pile of dust, Michael’s brow going up in a question.

“I killed her.” Alex said. “I distracted her when she would’ve taken out Isabel. She thought I was down. Isabel knocked her back, but she didn’t stay down. She was going to hit Iz with that alien power mumbo jumbo when I kicked her in the small of her back.”

“Kicked her?” Sean asked.

“Freddie said that there’s a button in the small of the back of a Skin. If you hit it hard, it breaks the husk.” Alex sat down next to Isabel. “It’s a way to kill them. They aren’t like humans or Shifters. Their husks can sustain a full blast. It slowly kills them, but a hard hit to the small of the back, death is instantaneous.””

Max looked at Alex in irritation, but in truth, him saving Isabel made it a little easier to handle them being a couple. “Maybe you could’ve shared that information with us, Alex?”

Alex shrugged. “How many Skins do you know? My friend, Freddie? Well, thanks, but I think I prefer him alive.” He gestured toward the pile of dust. “You can scratch one off the list.”

“Why was she here? It was a ‘she’, right? Female?” Michael asked as he went over to examine the dust.

“A very specific ‘she’…your Detective Courtney person.”

Michael glanced at Alex quickly in surprise, and then at Max.

“Courtney? From the PD?” Max couldn’t believe it. He had been keeping an eye on her recently, but she never seemed to do anything out of the ordinary except lust after Michael Guerin. Granted that was a bit bizarre and strange…but it had happened before, so…

“Yes, that Courtney bitch!” Isabel’s voice rose and she smiled in apology at Jonathan. He smiled kindly, but soon found a place over on the sofa. He was too tired to participate. “She started spewing all this Vilandra crap. Telling me that I was a traitor to my family in my last life, and that I had to die.”

“Shit!” Michael stood up and paced around the room.

“I…” Max looked at Isabel. “Is that all she said?”

“No, a lot of stuff about being a Michael-worshipping alien that thought you and I both sucked. That I couldn’t be allowed to be around Michael and his family. Just a bunch of the same thing over and over.” Isabel looked at Michael. “Guess you were hot shit on Antar. She was on this world for over sixty years worshipping you.”

“Great! Thanks, Iz. I already saw her homage to me. No, thanks.” Michael looked at Max. “I told you this person was a problem.”

“I was keeping tabs on her, Michael. Hanson was too. It’s only in the last few days that she’s been absent, and to be honest, I was busy with other matters.”

“Wait!” Isabel glared at her two brothers. “You knew? You knew about this Michael-loving freak who had it out for me?”

Michael and Max exchanged glances and both said, “No!” They paused and then came back with a, “Yes. Well, no! What it is…”

“Oh! Damn. I can’t even believe this!” Isabel turned sharply when she heard Alex making a comment under his breath. “What, Alex? You knew too?”

The men stood looking helplessly at each other. Sean took in the scene and smiled slyly, “Hey, if it helps, I didn’t know.”

“Great, thanks for the bone!” Isabel looked over at Jonathan. He was asleep. She went over and covered him with a blanket. “Now, it’s late. My boyfriend was almost fried, and I just discovered that I can heal. I also discovered that I was a terrible person in my last life, so how about starting from the beginning and going from there. And if you leave anything out, whatever happened in the last life will be nothing compared to what being on my bad side means now.”

Alex stared at Isabel. “Tell her. She has a right to know. It almost cost her her life.”

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Isabel said, absolutely ice cold and she stared down her two brothers.

They sat.

“Let’s start with this Vilandra person, shall we?”

~~~

“Maria, you’ve got to wake up.”

Maria moaned and slowly opened an eye to look at Jacob. “Tell me that’s coffee!”

“It is. Special blend, triple shot with a nice vanilla bean added.” Jacob sipped it. “Unfortunately, it’s not for you. Caffeine. Here. I brought you some special tea. The Arawete tribe in Brazil brew it special as a cure all.”

“Don’t shit me, Jacob. They use cow dung to brew their teas.” Maria looked into the cup suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s from the Urucum tree, and…”

“That the Annatto! Dammit, Jacob, I’m a pregnant woman! They use the Annatto tree to dye their clothing and skin orange!”

“Well, there is that little side effect, but a nice orange glow would make you look golden., and….”

Maria pushed the cup back into his hand. “Get out! I swear, Annatto tree my ass! Do I look like I want to be orange? No! Didn’t think so. Go make me some decaf coffee or some real tea or I will call my husband and tell him how you tried to poison his unborn children.”

Jacob rocked on his feet. “You don’t know what you’re missing!”

“Uh huh.” Maria headed for the bath still grumbling about teas and the lack of real coffee in her life. Looking at the clock she was horrified. It was after eight. She had wanted to call Michael just to make sure he was okay.

“Come on, Mar! Get your butt out here. I was up all night with your mystery.”

Maria spit out her toothpaste and quickly finished up. They were eating breakfast, Jacob’s specialty, buckwheat and honey waffles with fresh peaches. Maria ate three plates, all topped with Tabasco.

“What?” She asked as he stared at her in wonder.

“Sorry, I can’t fathom seeing the girl that used to act like she was dying from mild picante sauce OD on Tabasco like you do.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” Maria made a face and drank her milk piously.

“Yes, you were. Things are changing here, Maria. I looked over the hard data you gave me. It’s incredible. If what I’m seeing is true, then we’re looking at something truly unique.”

Maria was afraid of that. “Jacob, remember the old lore and legends you used to tell me? The stories of the early warrior societies? The strong protectors and soldiers, and the women who fought at their side? Tell me what makes a territorial society survive.”

“The protectors?” Jacob sat back and thought about it for a moment. “How far back are you looking?”

“Early. Primitive state societies, hunters and gathers, the first warriors that rushed the high plains, conquered nations and early chiefdoms.”

Jacob kissed Maria on the cheek. “Kiddo, I have a study group in about two hours. Let me cancel. It’s my gradual students.”

“Gradual students?” Maria asked in amusement.

“Yeah. They’ll gradually get there.” Jacob was also amused. “I have one that might even gradually graduate this year. Hate to lose him. It’s been a long three year haul.”

Gradual? Hmm. “You know, maybe you could let me sit in on your group, maybe even help.”

“You mean teach.” Jacob, thinking about it shrugged. “Sure. Why the hell not? I’d like to see what you do that is so different from the rest of us poorly paid educators.”

Maria stood up and stretched, unconsciously rubbing her stomach. “Well, first order of business is getting my coffee, and since that means decaf…we make a trip to Starbucks. So lead on Captain Ahab.”

“I thought I would be someone not so driven and obsessed.”

Maria looked over at her friend’s long curly hair and vivid blue eyes. He was a real charmer in a very sixties sort of free-love way. He had all the masculinity necessary with a nice touch of New Age sensitivity. “Pauly Shore?”

“Aw, c’mon! I like girls!”

Maria laughed. “I thought he did too.”

“I hope so. No one is that gay.” Jacob moved his eyebrows up and down. “I always saw myself as more of a Jim Morrison type with a lot of that Riders on the Storm stuff.”

“Uh huh. Shocking how the image we think we have is rarely what others see.” Maria began to outline her hypothesis on self delusion when Jacob spotted a group of young women. He practically fell over his feet gawking at them. They noticed and the prattling tee-heeing was almost painful. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

“What?”

“Jacob, leave the children alone! You’re almost twenty-eight!”

“Hey, I’m at least three months shy, and those aren’t children. They are TAs!” He smiled charmingly at the women, making them giggle even more. “They’re legal! How about we stop and chat with them for a moment?”

“Sure, why not? I’m sure them seeing you walking arm in arm with a very pregnant woman wearing a wedding ring will make them find you real desirable.”

Jacob looked at her in shock. Oh damn. He forgot!

“Oh, we so have to talk to them so I can introduce you as my friend! You are seriously cramping my style, DeLuca.”

“Make that DeLuca-Guerin, and I’ll try not to embarrass you.” Maria said, adding in a soft voice, “Too much. Actually you look like you need no help in that area.”

They stopped and conversed with the young women, who seemed inordinately interested in Maria, her pregnancy and the fact she was married to a cop. Maria answered questions politely, being overly amused at her friend’s happy enthusiastic regard for the young women as he practically hopped up and down on his feet in nervous energy.

Later when they bought some decaf beans from Starbucks and finished chatting up young Co-eds, Maria sat back happily sipping the albeit unleaded java, but still the liquor of the bean. Jacob was busy digging out literature talking a mile a minute.

“I’ve given this some thought. It’s hard to really say, since so many of the accounts are turn of the century....last century, not this one…anyway, they examine early nation state societies still heavily dependent on mobility, migration, hunting and gathering, and warfare.”

“Genghis Khan warfare?”

“Of a sort. Early societies were chiefdoms and very clannish. They had very structured divisions of labor. It’s like the early Apaches had a warrior clan, and the Cheyenne had Dog Soldiers. Specialized warriors that protected the society. Warriors are a special breed that weren’t always able to find a place in mainstream society.”

“Isolated?”

Jacob nodded. “They had to be. There was an ingrained violence in their nature, almost a need to oppress, to drive, and conquer. They were often at a loss trying to fit into polite or socialized interactions. There are accounts of them hearing voices.”

“Joan of Arc heard voices.”

“She did. Perhaps there’s a fine line between animalistic behavior, ingrained survival response, and humanity. What distinguishes us from animals is our morality, or our sense of right and wrong. There are times when these lines become blurred, hard to distinguish, and there is a threat…”

“Of stepping over that line?” Maria frowned. That she understood. Recently it had become very clear to her how she herself often moved back and forth between those faint distinctions.

“Exactly.” Jacob smiled at Maria. “You might think this is a more primitive response, but evolution and forward thinking is suggesting that it’s actually an advancement.”

“Warlike nature is an advancement.” Maria laughed. “That’s the antithesis of the Hollywood machine’s creation of Star Trek.”

“Name one Star Trek movie or show that has no warfare?”

Maria laughed. “Point to you. I can’t. How boring would that be? But the idea basis is that man evolves beyond the need to oppress.”

“Aww!” Jacob sat on the back of the sofa with his feet on the cushions. “There’s the fine distinction. That isn’t really true. Man strives toward perfection! As if an upward evolution would be a release of all our darker, weightier, evil tendencies. What if that isn’t true? What if instead we evolve into more efficient fighting machines? More able to manipulate ourselves, our physical world, and the very fabric of our universe? What if that’s left unlimited and unchecked?”

Maria put her feet up on the sofa and stretched up. “Then we’d destroy ourselves in a quest for perfection. The ultimate control and maximum use of human brain power.”

“Exactly. Historically systems move from chaos to order. But there is an entropy in the system, a tendency to fall back into chaos, or disorder. So there has to be some control to keep a check and balance in the system.”

“Jacob, what is this about early warrior societies? You said it wasn’t primitive, but advanced.” Maria’s brows creased in a frown. “I don’t get that.”

“Oh! This is the beauty of it, baby! Now let’s hypothesize that these men…sort of ‘supermen’ of this warrior clan are more in tune with their ‘primitive’ side They move in packs, taste the air, feel in a sixth sense way, stalk their prey... They can smell the sweat, feel the first hit of rain on hot dry soil, and they instinctually understand the weather patterns and how they’ll affect the movement of their prey as they flee. They understand all of this because the hunt is merely another form of warfare. It’s a dance of survival. Now the word ‘guerrilla’ originally did not refer to the warrior, but rather the conflict. It comes from the Spanish word guerrilla which means ‘little war’. They employ that type of stalking and hunting technique that makes guerrilla warfare so effective. It borders on instinct….maybe instincts bred out of genetics or lost as we moved to more gentile city states. But does that make this instinctual process ‘primitive’?”

Maria picked up his thoughts. “No. It makes it animalistic. Instinctual. Animals by nature are considered as evolved as they can be in their form. They work within a natural, balanced system where there is a continuity of interaction.”

“Exactly. They do not exploit, abuse, or overuse. Rather they work within the balance.”

Maria stared off into space. “The Balance,” she murmured quietly.

“Yin and Yang, baby. The big cosmic pull and push. For every system of power there’s an intake and an outflow that keep the system in check, balanced and free of explosion, or…”

“Implosion. It has innate systems of balance that keep it under a static control.”

“Bingo!” Jacob’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. “That means that this behavior is neither primitive nor advanced, rather it’s natural. So as humans evolve they must find a balance of their own mental powers, and this will probably be a very opposing system that is opposite, and yet the same.”

Maria absentmindedly touched the spiral on her chest. “To keep power in check a completely equal and opposite would be needed, a focus, a channel, a way to curve the inflow and the outflow.”

“Exactly.” Jacob jumped down on the cushion next to Maria and picked up her feet to put in his lap. “Otherwise you would have the natural instincts of power, force, fierce warfare and warlike nature raging out of control, taking at will what it wants. There would have to be a division in power. Those who get the active power….but it’s uncontrollable to a point where it can become abusive. The other half would be inactive power, more mental, softer, yet just as powerful…the control.”

“One would be helpless or unrealized without the other.” Maria stroked her stomach. “Is this found in early warlike societies?”

“That’s the beauty. Not just in warlike societies, Maria. In animal societies too. There is the mating. Animals, warriors, human, almost anything imaginable finds its level with a mate. Someone that complements and enhances their nature. Animals that are predators tend to hunt in packs and mate for life. Their connections are incredible They move and sense each other from great distances, and they instinctually know when the other is in danger.”

“Do these warriors mate for life?”

“Absolutely. It’s what brought them home. It was their sense of territory.” Jacob stopped his lecturing as he looked at Maria. Her face was suddenly dark and closed down. “What? What is it?”

“Stark fear. Realization? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just feeling my genetics, and helpless before Destiny.” Maria rubbed her stomach. Her poor children born to a legacy.

“Destiny is a bitch, but free will determines the journey.”

“Small comfort.”

~~~

“Hello?”

“You seem to be in a world of trouble.”

Strickland sat up straighter. “Who is this?” He recognized the voice, but he couldn’t believe that Chameleon knew who he was, or knew his home phone number.

“You know.” There was a pause on the other end. Strickland never noticed how emotionless that voice was until now.  “I’ve got a new contract.”

“And this is important to me for what reason? You still have my jobs to finish.”

The laugh was loud and humorless. “Oh, I’ll finish your job. Both of them. The question is, will you be around to see it?”

Strickland looked at the doorway to his family room. He quickly shut the door as he didn’t want his wife to hear the conversation. His family was fragmented, and his wife was on the verge of divorcing him. He didn’t want to give her any more cause. His special hidden bank account was almost empty due to his vendetta on Valenti. All the money he had saved over the years from working for Pierce was almost gone. Graft and corruption should provide more. He should’ve invested.

“What do you mean?” Strickland’s voice rose in anger.

“Seems you targeted the wrong people. People with connections and means.” Chameleon laughed. “I’ll be seeing you. I promise you, I’ll see you long before you ever see me. Tick. Tick. Tick.”