Disclaimer: Earth 2 and all related characters belong to the Amblin Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended, and there's definitely no money being made. It would be extremely rude (and unprofitable) to sue me.
Author's Note: Whoo and hoo! – I've finally finished a multi-chaptered story. I have a problem with finishing longer stories – I find it very hard to actually pick a point in the story to end it. So I tried several different endings, before finally deciding on this one. (And then had to repost, because -aargh! typos!- Can't stand em.)
Once again, thanks to Chianna, Kiss316, Milady Dragon, Stormm, and TesubCalle for your reviews. Knowing people were actually reading it made me work a lot harder at getting updates out consistently. I have you people to blame for all those late nights by the computer!
Thanks for reading – I hope you enjoyed it! :-)
Chapter 7
Five days of sleep, and yet he couldn't quite shake the yawn from his speech.
It was just a tiny pause, a restless catch of breath between words, but Julia noticed it and abruptly interrupted his explanation to enquire, "Are you still experiencing fatigue?"
"No." He wasn't, not really.
A tiny frown creased her face, and the diaglove was out again, winking and glimmering away to her as she waved it near his head, his chest.
"I'm sorry to have to keep asking," Danziger said, perhaps by way of distracting him, "but I still don't get it. Just what made those things decide to come after you?"
The questions had been the same, all morning long. What? – where? – how come? – why? – why not? – why at all? – how do you know?
He understood the questions, understood the reasoning behind it. He even understood their doubt. Though it seemed at moments almost too prying and personal, he knew that wasn't the intent. That if it had been anyone else, the questions would have to be asked just the same. That if it had been anyone else, he too would have been waiting for answers.
The only problem was that the answers he gave – the only answers he had – sounded evasive. Insufficient. Even to his own ears.
"The Terrians told them," he replied, keeping his tone even and trying, trying very hard not to sound defensive or angry. Told them what? he thought, anticipating the next question and prodding his own answers. "The Terrians knew we would come here. Or, if not us, others like us. They knew that we could help them, and they told Gra– they told the winged ones that we would help them."
Danziger's mouth compressed into a tight line. "I don't appreciate being told what to do. And if the Terrians knew there was a problem, why didn't they do something to help?"
"Too many years of contamination – the land is tainted. They can't pass through it."
"Uh huh." Danziger was unconvinced. "I notice that they got near enough to blast the tires off the DuneRail—"
Yes, and they had been forced to travel over the sandy surface even though the ground beneath them burned and itched at their feet – had to cross the long empty distances, because the dreamer hadn't understood, the dreamer hadn't come to them, and therefore they had to go to him. To take the staff to him. Take this and free the wings. Free the land and the skies. Undo the curse – slay the dragon—
"Alonzo!" Julia's voice sounded sharp in his ear, and he snapped back to attention, to see three faces peering at him in concern.
He was a mess. His brain was a mess, his memories still tattered, not quite right. There was an ache from behind his eyes that wasn't at all physical – a psychic ache, as if his mind had been stretched just a little beyond its limits and couldn't quite be stuffed back inside his skull. "What?"
"You weren't listening. You seemed distracted."
"I'm just..." The word 'tired' was on the tip of his tongue. Couldn't get enough sleep, couldn't stop sleeping, as if enough rest could purge the last of the disjointed memories from his mind. Earlier, Julia had spoken to him of delta and theta waves, of subliminal impulses, and prolonged periods of distorted sleep patterns; the explanations had bounced off him without leaving any real comprehension. All he understood – all he needed to understand – was that the cycle was undoing itself. That he would recover – he would be all right. He just needed to rest. "Just thinking," he said at last. "Getting used to being by myself again. Alone in my mind."
The professional mask of Julia's cool blue eyes melted somewhat, and she reached over almost surreptitiously to briefly take his hand. He very nearly flinched, remembering the blistering touch of wingtips, but Julia's touch was silent and warm. He was almost sorry when she pulled her hand away.
"It must have been difficult for you," Yale intoned.
"Yes and no." He saw the surprised expressions, knew that he'd said the wrong thing again. "It's hard to explain. I don't know if I really understood what was happening at the time."
"Do you understand it now?" Yale countered.
"Yes." He bristled a little at the implication. "Of course I do." And then made no effort to explain.
"So, were those things Terrians or not?" Danziger asked in a slight change of subject.
Not. The negative response wanted to spring to his lips – a denial that he sensed coming from both sides – but he hesitated. "Maybe once... long ago, they were the same," he murmured, pulling that piece of information from some indistinct sliver of memory. "But not any more. Not in the same way. The Terrians chose the earth; the winged ones preferred the sky."
"And, what — that's it? That's the reason? Just because of that, now they don't talk to each other?"
"I... I'm not sure. I don't know." They were all staring at him as if expecting some kind of clarification. But he didn't have the words. How could he possibly convey fragments of feelings, or give word to the remnant of an insight that was entirely alien? There was an estrangement between the two Terrian races that went beyond their chosen way of life – Alonzo knew it, he felt it, but he couldn't vocalize it. "Does it matter?"
"I don't know, Lonz," Danziger replied evenly. "That's why I'm asking."
Alonzo looked away.
"No one is accusing you, Alonzo," Yale said, his voice conciliatory, "no one is blaming you for anything. We are all just trying to understand."
"Then try to understand." His own reply clipped and terse.
"We do understand that you weren't acting of your own volition," Julia intervened, and though her tone was meant to be reassuring, Alonzo noticed that she seemed to be choosing her words carefully, consulting the readout on her diaglove. "Although you obviously weren't aware of it, your medical scans showed evidence of subconscious interference stemming from your first encounter with the winged Terrians."
"It wasn't their intent... they weren't trying to control me," he replied, feeling compelled to defend the winged beings, and he knew they would find that suspicious as well. "Not at first," he amended. "But it's different for them. The way they communicate, it can be... overwhelming."
Danziger snorted, as if that were a colossal understatement.
Julia circled slowly around Alonzo – he imagined he could feel her gloved fingers hovering lightly over the back of his neck, and tried not to cringe away from the contact. "Did you ever forget who you were?"
"I was always at least partly aware of a... a sense of self. Even when..." When I was drowning. Caught in a box and drowning and shouting and no one hearing— Alonzo pressed his hands over his eyes. Not the right words. Not helpful. "Even when it was overshadowed. I just..." He struggled to bring a coherent finish to the sentence. "At some point, I just lost the ability to follow that. It wasn't an option any more; it wasn't... didn't seem important."
Now she was standing in front of him again. "Did you ever feel you weren't in control?" The same question as before, phrased differently.
"I wasn't in control."
"But you said—"
Alonzo leaned forward in frustration, lacing his fingers around the back of his neck and staring down at the floor. The moment he did so, he realized it was a deeply defensive posture – all he needed to do now was start rocking back and forth and he'd have them all convinced he was completely bonkers. "I know what I said," he replied evenly, raising his head to glance at the three of them. Julia's countenance was unreadable; Yale's was similarly solemn; Danziger wore an expression of grim consternation, his concern evident.
"From the beginning, yes, there was a strong influence," Alonzo repeated. "But I didn't really recognize it, didn't know it was there until they spoke to me again. Then... things became clearer. When I'd absorbed enough of their memories, enough of a link with them, that I could understand. That data collector unit was killing them. It had been, for decades. The Terrians had promised we would help. And it wasn't enough," he said insistently, though no one was arguing with him, "it wasn't enough to go for help, to bring the rest of you to help. It was my fault, I understood too late; there was no time, the young ones were hatching, and it couldn't wait, they'd waited too long already, and they weren't willing to trust..." Bit his lip and stopped the rattling speech. "Maybe it clouded my judgment," he conceded. "Maybe I didn't make the right decisions."
There was a brief silence, which Yale broke. He wore a deep frown, as if he were loath to mention his concerns, but he noted, "Morgan indicated that you were somewhat violent at times."
"Yeah, well..." Alonzo grimaced, a bit of defiance entering his tone. "Aren't we all, at times." Yale did not miss the implication, and a moment later Alonzo relented. That wasn't fair to bring that up. It didn't have anything to do with this. He made a wan attempt to brush aside his last comment by adding, "Anyway, Morgan kind of brings out those reactions in people. Besides," he grumbled, rubbing his bruised cheekbone, "he should talk. He's the one who hit me in the face."
Danziger made a strangled sound of disbelief. "Morgan did that? Morgan Martin!"
Alonzo suddenly had visions of Danziger telling a dramatically inflated version of that incident around the campfire. The fact that Danziger suddenly burst into laughter seemed to confirm that. "It was a lucky shot," Alonzo protested. "He caught me off-guard. And I don't want to hear you running around telling everyone—"
"What? That Morgan kicked the crap out of you?" Danziger prompted, an evil grin on his face. "That is just too funny! I'm surprised Morgan didn't tell us himself. Wait until the others hear—"
"He did not 'kick the crap' out of me—!" Alonzo protested hotly.
"Morgan Martin," Danziger intoned, completely ignoring Alonzo. "Bureaucrat. Enforcer. Making G889 safe for humanity. Keeps uppity space-jockeys in line—"
"Oh. My. God." Alonzo buried his face in his hands. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to mention that to you. I'm going to regret this to my dying day."
"Probably," Danziger agreed cheerfully.
Julia stood in the doorway, listening with only half an ear as Danziger and Yale informed the group that they'd be travelling again tomorrow. One day's travel to reach higher ground, Yale was saying, and no more than two or three before they were completely out of the canyons and back on the grasslands. Walman was already eagerly offering to scout the path.
It seemed to be accepted as welcome news. After retrieving Alonzo and Morgan – both of whom had been too injured for travel – the group had been forced to set up an impromptu campsite beneath the overhanging canyon walls and simply wait. Though the winged Terrians had not ventured near again, that did not dissipate the palpable tension in the camp. Most of the group were now carrying weapons, ready to repel any attack. People would be glad to be out in the open again, without having to fear whatever might be overhead.
She thought briefly of Reilly, orbiting somewhere above.
Casting her eyes over the assembled group, Julia wasn't surprised that Morgan was nowhere to be seen – Bess had anxiously noted that he still seemed to need a lot of rest. Julia had agreed to check on him again later just to keep Bess happy, but she didn't believe there were any problems. Considering the ordeal the two of them had been through, Morgan was recovering at the expected rate. Alonzo, on the other hand, was only up and about among the group because he was pushing himself, because he always pushed, and he couldn't stand being bedridden.
Danziger, who possessed a very similar mindset, hadn't pressed the issue with Alonzo when Julia had protested.
She'd let it go, because it hadn't seemed to be worth the fight, and maybe he was right. Everyone knew what had happened, and they'd let her know immediately if Alonzo faltered in any way. She had to let go – had to differentiate between her personal feelings and her duties as a doctor.
So easy to say, but not so easy to do.
She'd felt the change in him. Since Alonzo had been back, since he'd finally wakened, there had been a distance between them. A lack of intimacy... He'd been keeping her at arms length. She wasn't sure it was deliberate – at times, Alonzo seemed almost afraid to touch her, seemed to want only to be alone. He never reached out for her now. And yet, whenever she actually dared touch him, he folded into that contact with a needy and desperate yearning.
She didn't know what he needed, didn't know what to do for him.
It made her uncomfortable, both in her fear for him, and in her role as physician. She was too close, too involved, couldn't possibly be objective. But if she pulled away from him now, she knew he would take it as rejection.
If she'd never stepped over that line in the first place, never let him blur that boundary between them... then things might have been easier. But then she'd also be a different person, and she didn't want that either.
No easy answers. Never any easy answers.
With a sigh, she turned away from the doorway and returned to her desk.
With the group dispersed to prep for tomorrow's departure – and with Baines helpfully distracting Alonzo – Yale, Danziger and Julia gathered on the edge of the camp to discuss matters privately. He was pretty sure their attempt at discretion wasn't going to fool Alonzo, but on the other hand, there was no need to rub his face in it either.
"So," Danziger said, cutting right to it, "what do you think?"
"Physically, he's recovering." It was a terse reply. "But physical wounds are easily healed. Emotional trauma is a less precise science."
Danziger knew she was referring to that lingering, uncharacteristic reserve in Alonzo. It set him on edge, too, but so far Alonzo had rebuffed all attempts to get him to talk about whatever was troubling him. It bothered Danziger, because their dealings with the Terrians – flying or digging – always seemed to end up as a question mark, mostly left unanswered.
"What about your scans?" he prompted. "Are those flying Terrians still in his head?"
"Not as far as I can tell," Julia admitted. "His neurological readings have all returned to proper levels."
"Well, if he doesn't want to talk to us, there's nothing we can do until he does," he said pragmatically. An uneasy silence met that suggestion. Danziger sighed. "I think it'll be easier for Alonzo to get back to normal if we all just treat him normally," he advised, speaking from memories of his own experience after that frozen Terrian took his body for a joyride. Weird uncomfortable silences, and anxiously pestering him for details that he might not even remember was only going to do more harm than good.
"You know how this group pulls together," he tried to reassure Julia. "We'll all keep an eye on him. In any case, both Morgan and Alonzo are well enough to travel now, and I don't want to risk Uly's health by delaying here any longer. How's he doing?"
"I examined Uly today, and he's fine. Fully healed from the last incident, with no indication so far of another outbreak. Possibly because this area is somewhat less sandy overall, or the camp's current proximity to the canyon walls may be sheltering us from some of the particulates in the air. Or," she added, "because I've kept him confined indoors."
Yale smiled a little. "I know Uly will be very glad to leave – I think he is growing very tired of his lessons with me."
"Yeah, I keep getting an earful from True every time I send her to keep him company," Danziger agreed. "Can't say I blame him for being grouchy, though. No further Terrian dreams?"
"No," Yale replied. "I think that one incident was an anomaly, that the Terrians were specifically trying to contact us in Alonzo's absence. Uly has never seemed to dream to them in the way that Alonzo does."
Which brought the question back to Julia. "What about Alonzo?" Danziger asked. "Any Terrian dreams... actually, any unusual dreams at all?"
"No," she replied.
"Are you sure?" he pressed.
Her eyes flashed. "Yes." And when he refused to let go of her gaze, she said, "I do learn from my errors, Danziger; I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."
"All right – I'm sorry. I just want to be positive this time. Yale," he said, switching topics, "were you able to decipher any of that information that we picked up from the data collector?"
"Some of it. So far, I have found atmospheric and geological data. There also appears to be survey data, which, if it is intact, will be extremely useful. It is unfortunate that Morgan interrupted the data transfer."
"He didn't even know our systems were receiving it," Danziger pointed out, "and from what he said, it sounds like there wasn't much time to figure it out. He told me he was just trying to break the encryption. Any data we ended up getting is a bonus."
"Perhaps, then, I will enlist Morgan's help when he is recovered. He may be able to provide useful information about the programming. It does seem to be within his area of expertise."
"Good idea." Danziger shuddered briefly at the thought of Morgan Martin being useful: the world was definitely off its hinges... "There's one other thing. We've got to do something about Reilly."
Julia's eyes were startled. "I don't disagree, but what can we do? He's – it's – on a station, orbiting the planet. That's a little out of our reach at the moment."
"Yeah, and if we were out of his reach, maybe I'd leave it at that. But we're not. He can light the fuses on our biochips and fry us all."
Silence.
"And he can do that from orbit. As we all remember. Look, walking around and pretending we don't remember that hasn't done any of us any favours. It's time we dealt with the issue. I want these things out, Julia. Or, if not out," he added, correctly interpreting the look of dismay on her face, "then disabled. Beyond hope of repair or reactivation. He can track us with them, can attack us with them, and god knows what else."
"You're right," she murmured. "At the very least, it'll take time," she sighed wearily, and he knew that to her it was yet another weight on her shoulders, another task to eclipse her waking hours. They'd expected a lot of her, this last while. "A long time. And that's not even saying that I can do it. I'm not sure I can. I don't know the technology."
"I'll assist you in any way that I can," Yale offered. "As will the others, I'm sure."
Julia's frown didn't ease. "That biochip is tied into vital organs, critical neural arrays – it's a very dangerous thing to be tampering with. But... it's also too dangerous to leave it as is. Yale and I will work on it when we can," she promised. "But Devon's cure is still a priority. I can't just leave that – I need to know if it's a disease or if—"
"Don't worry – you're not getting any arguments from me on that. Let me know if you need more help." Sparing a quick glance up at the evening sky, he commented, "Let's discuss it more some other time. We should get back – I don't like standing out here in the dark." He still wasn't positive that those winged things were gone, wasn't convinced that they might not be lurking about, ready to snatch someone up when their back was turned. But that sounded like Morgan-Martin-level-paranoia, and so he kept it to himself.
"I agree," Yale added. "And as we are departing tomorrow, everyone should take the opportunity to get some rest."
"Morgan. Hey, Morgan. You awake?"
"I am now," he grumbled, trying to throw a fierce glare over his shoulder. However, craning his neck like that was more difficult than the gesture was worth, so he shuffled around until he was sitting upright. Alonzo was standing next to his cot, looking irritatingly healthy and whole. "Well," Morgan sniffed, "looks like the doctor's been squandering all her good medicine on you, while I get stuck with the leftovers—"
"Oh come on," Alonzo chided, pulling up a stool and sitting down. "You're the one who's been depleting Julia's supplies of Grendler-goo. I bounced back almost right away."
Not exactly true, from the looks of it. Alonzo's movements were a bit stilted, and the flash of white fabric beneath his jacket looked more like bandages than a shirt. Still, he was up and about, which was more than Morgan could say for himself. He eyed the pilot suspiciously. "If you just came here to gloat—"
"I see you've recovered your pleasant personality," Alonzo responded lightly, but there was a flicker of irritation in his gaze.
"I've recovered—!" Morgan snorted incredulously. "Look, if you want to talk about unpleasant, unstable personalities, then I should remind you that I'm not the one who—" To his surprise, Alonzo actually flinched, his affable expression falling into open discomfort as his composure faltered. "I'm not— I mean, I wasn't—" Morgan shook his head, then gave a heavy sigh. "Never mind. Just forget it."
A very long, very uncomfortable silence followed. Finally, Alonzo shifted restlessly, venturing to ask, "How's your shoulder?"
"All right, I guess," he decided, quickly seizing onto the topic. Julia seemed convinced that he was fine and was healing well, but Morgan wasn't about to leave anything to chance. After all, if you didn't have your health, you didn't have anything. Or so they said. But it would definitely be prudent, he supposed, to avoid heavy labour for the next while. "She said it was more of a crack in the bone than a break, and that the bone-healer vaccine kicked in on its own. It's still sore, but at least it works." He raised his arm a little to demonstrate. "It's just a good thing you didn't use any more of that Terrian electricity stuff than you did when you hit me. I don't even want to think about what kind of damage that might have done." Alonzo seemed to be at a loss for words. "And, of course," Morgan continued with a perverse enjoyment, "I'm glad that you didn't actually hit me on the head like you were obviously planning to, because that would have been even more—"
"Look – Morgan," Alonzo interrupted, then fell silent. Visibly steeling himself, he lifted his eyes to meet Morgan's. "I'm sorry about what happened. I'm sorry you got caught up in the middle of it, and I'm very sorry that you got hurt. If it means anything to you, I really didn't know— well, I don't know what I knew. Some of it doesn't really make a lot of sense to me, even now. But I didn't plan any of this. I didn't want to do... all the things that I did. And I am sorry."
"Oh." There wasn't too much he could think of to say in response to that apology, and he even felt a tiny twinge of guilt for being so difficult. "Well... okay."
Another extended pause.
"We're breaking camp and moving out tomorrow," Alonzo offered.
"Yale finally found a way out of here?" Morgan couldn't hide his relief. "It's about time. I'll be glad to see the last of this place. I suppose you will, too," he offered, but Alonzo didn't respond. "Anyway," Morgan continued, talking inanely because the awkward silence only made him feel more nervous, "the next time you have an appointment with some Terrians, I'm just going to stay out of the way, okay? I'd rather not get accidentally caught up in these things – I think I'm actually more of a bystander type."
"Maybe it wasn't accidental, Morgan. Maybe you were meant to be there."
Morgan blinked with surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You're the one who found a way to destroy the robot," Alonzo pointed out, "not me. I'd have ended up killing us both if you hadn't stepped in. And I also remember enough to know that I'd be dead now if you hadn't dragged me out of there when you did."
"Well, actually you did most of the dragging," Morgan began to correct, then realized that wasn't the point Alonzo was making. "Wait. Are you telling me that those Terrians actually picked me? That's... that's just..." He floundered incoherently, before managing to sputter, "That's got to be the most horrible thing anyone's ever told me."
"What?" Alonzo's startled reply was more than a bit bewildered.
"I can handle it just being dumb, blind, bad luck – it's not fun, but when you think about it, what other kind of luck is there on this planet? At least it's not personal. But that – the Terrians knowing who I am! – that's terrible! Dangerous! I don't want them thinking they can— Wait. Wait a minute. Is this some kind of... of awful Terrian revenge for that whole Morganite business? Because, if so, I just need to say again that I was really not—"
"Morgan! Shut up already."
"You shut up," he retorted, vaguely aware of how childish that sounded, but he didn't care. "I had to listen to you repeatedly spouting off about kill-kill-death-destroy. So the least you can do is listen to me for a few minutes."
Though Morgan had expected him to be angry at that remark, Alonzo actually laughed softly, and put up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, Morgan. I'm listening."
"No, you're not! You're just humouring me."
"I'm not," he insisted, more seriously. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to tell you that I'm glad you were there, Morgan. I know you'd rather not have been," he conceded, "but you handled it well. Better than I did. And I don't think things would've worked out at all if you hadn't been there. That's all."
Morgan stared at the other man for a long moment, trying to figure him out. Alonzo looked and sounded much like he'd used to. But this was the first time he'd seen him conscious and coherent since Eden Advance had finally come to the rescue, and Morgan doubted that Alonzo could really have rebounded so quickly. "You seem to have recovered," he said cautiously.
"Yeah." A distinctly uncomfortable tension began to creep over the other man, and he averted his eyes. "Yeah, I was lucky, I guess," he replied distractedly, as if he weren't entirely convinced.
"But you've still got the dermaplasts," Morgan pointed out, catching sight of the regenerative covering on the other man's arms. Julia had taken the last of Morgan's off yesterday, but he remembered Alonzo hadn't been wearing a jacket at the time of the explosion. "Are the burns still pretty bad?"
Alonzo adjusted his sleeves, covering the dermaplasts as if they were an offending flaw. "It'll heal."
"So... can I... can I ask you about it?"
Alonzo didn't reply, didn't look back at him, but nodded his head.
"That first day – they got into your head then, didn't they? I mean, I was right about that, wasn't I?"
"Yes, Morgan," a pained and patient reply that seemed to leave him oddly humbled. "You were right."
"Do you remember much of it?"
Alonzo's eyes flicked back to him, unusually attentive. "I'm not sure," he admitted slowly. "I think I do..." He gave a dry, humourless laugh. "But I don't know if that's worth much any more." A little more distantly, he added, "I do remember trying to kill you."
"I seem to have a few vivid memories of that as well," Morgan noted sourly. "You were certainly persistent about it."
"I'm sorry—"
"Yeah, well, I guess it wasn't really your fault," he said grudgingly, forestalling yet another apology from the other man. "As long as you don't try it again." After another moment, he peered curiously at Alonzo. "Did it hurt? Having them in your head?"
"Not... not quite. Not that I can recall," Alonzo replied haltingly. "It was... uncomfortable. Disorienting. There were times I could almost... almost comprehend what was wrong, and then it was alarming, but most of the time— It's hard to explain." He shrugged, throwing a wry half-smile toward Morgan. "And I just spent half the day trying to explain it to Danziger, Yale and Julia."
"Yeah? So what's the verdict? How do you feel now?"
A pause. "Empty."
Morgan regarded the other man, more than a little surprised that he was being so forthright with him. "Are you answering my questions just because you feel guilty about what happened?"
A ghost of a smile. "Mostly."
And maybe it was prying, maybe he was asking questions that were none of his business, especially when he had no doubt that Alonzo would not normally have chosen to confide in him, but Morgan ventured pointedly, "How do you know they're gone now? How can you be sure that those things aren't still there, buried somewhere in your mind?"
Alonzo was very still, his gaze unreadable. "I don't know, Morgan."
Morgan didn't have anything to say in response to that blunt admission. "Well," he said after a long hesitation, "what does Julia think?"
Alonzo's hand lifted to his temples as if he were warding away a headache. "Ask me something I can answer."
"Do you hate those things – those winged Terrians – whatever they were – for what they did?"
A slight flicker of surprise showed on Alonzo's face; he considered the question before answering. "No, I don't hate them. I can't say I like them at the moment... but they were... desperate," he said, a trace of parallel despair in his own voice as if he were still hearing faint echoes, "they were needy. They only wanted to help their young. It sounds strange, but... they remind me, a little, of us. When we first came here, asking the Terrians for help, and not knowing what it meant. Offering our help in exchange and not knowing what that meant either. They meant no wrong."
"How can you say that? It went wrong – we could have been killed. We nearly were."
"They were dying," Alonzo countered. "They were being killed."
"That's – that's different," Morgan sputtered.
"Why? Because it wasn't us?"
Morgan squirmed a little, despite the mildness of Alonzo's tone.
"They've been dying here for years, and... couldn't wait any longer for it to end. They had no choice. And that data collector was launched from Earthspace – it was our technology, our equipment," Alonzo reminded him. "Why shouldn't we be the ones to fix it?"
Morgan shifted uncomfortably, not quite able to deny that he wouldn't feel the same way if the situation were reversed. "I don't care," he insisted, though there was an uncertain edge to his voice. "I still don't like them."
"It doesn't matter now," Alonzo shrugged, obviously disinclined to discuss it further, "it's over."
"How can you be so sure? You said yourself that—" Morgan halted as Bess unexpectedly stepped into the tent.
"Morgan," she said, "I've brought you some more— Oh. Alonzo. I didn't know you were here." Though her expression didn't noticeably change, Morgan was aware of the quietly protective light that flared in her eyes. She promptly moved to stand by Morgan's side. "I don't mean to interrupt, but it's getting late and if we're leaving tomorrow, Morgan really ought to be resting..."
"It's all right, Bess—"
"No, she's right. I should go." He got to his feet, meeting Morgan's gaze fully. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry for what happened, Morgan—"
"Wait—" Morgan caught Alonzo's arm, and the other man just about jumped out of his skin, yanking roughly away. For an instant, he thought he'd accidentally hurt him, grabbing his burned arm too tightly or something, but at the look on Alonzo's face, Morgan realized that wasn't it. He'd frightened him.
"S-sorry," Morgan stuttered, taken aback. "I didn't mean to—"
Bess had surged forward in his defense – no doubt ready to clout Alonzo if he made any threatening gestures – but she subsided when Morgan caught her hand. He'd seen Alonzo crazy-out-of-control, and this wasn't it. If anything, Alonzo seemed equally discomfited by his overreaction, but Morgan figured he knew where it was coming from.
Morgan tried again. "Look, I, um, just wanted to say that it's okay. I get that it wasn't your fault. And," he paused, not sure how the other man would take it, but then plunged ahead anyway. "And I remember being on the mesa. Bess and I, when we brought the springtime." Bess' hand tightened on his. "It's hard to describe what it was like. It was... maybe like a sound, a humming – something pulling us along. But when we were running toward it – for that moment, it was the most important thing in the world, the most amazing thing we'd ever do." Morgan realized he was drifting off track. "But that's not the point. The point is, afterwards, for me, things were... sort of weird for a while. As if I could maybe... still feel little bits of it left over... at the strangest times. But eventually, everything went back to normal. Bess and I both got better, and it all worked out." He looked closely at Alonzo. "Maybe it's not exactly the same thing... but it's not all that different either, is it?"
Alonzo glanced at Morgan, at Bess – "I'd better go," he said neutrally – then ducked his head and exited the tent.
"Morgan, are you okay?" Bess prompted, concerned, and when he nodded, she asked, "What was that all about?"
"Oh... it's a long story," Morgan sighed, needing to sort some of it out in his own head first before he talked about it.
Julia woke to the morning sunlight and the sounds of people wandering around outside her tent, starting to pack up the campsite. She was disappointed, but not surprised, to find herself alone.
Last night, the winds had risen, tearing through the valleys with a mournful wail and setting the fabric walls of the tents to rattling. Julia had heard Alonzo wake suddenly in the middle of the night, felt him start with surprise beside her, before he slowly sat up. He'd been listening... maybe to the wind, or maybe something else beneath that – the mournful sounds that might not have been just the weather... Or perhaps he'd been more focused on the way the tent fabric was fluttering and flapping in the gale – the sounds it made, and what it might have reminded him of...
And when he finally seemed to shake it off and lie down again, he didn't speak, didn't move towards her, but she'd almost been able to hear the intensity of his listening. Both of them lying awake, neither of them admitting it, but listening to each other in the dark, trying to detect something... A hint, a key, a clue... or maybe just a safe way out of the silence that now separated them.
Even after his trembling had eased and he drifted back into a restless sleep, Julia had stayed awake. Listening to the wind, listening to him breathe, and wanting to close the distance between them, to clasp her own arms tightly about him to keep him from slipping away. Resisting the urge to touch her hand to his neck to count his pulse. To retrieve her instruments and run test after test after test, as if any of that would give her a window into his dreams; as if she could hold onto him if she only understood him...
She didn't know when she'd finally fallen asleep, but instinctively she knew that today was going to be yet another long, exhausting day. Weren't they all?
With a few hours to go before the camp was disassembled, Baines and Walman were busying themselves with the heavier equipment, and Danziger had decided to spend his own time doing minor repairs to the vehicles.
Catching sight of Alonzo in the campsite, Danziger paused. He'd rather have waited until they were out of this corner of the world before trying to pull the other man back into camp life, but watching him drift aimlessly around the periphery of the activity, Danziger decided now was as good a time as any.
He cast a quick searching glance upwards alongside the adjacent cliffside and through the blue sky above. Seeing no sign of any flying creatures, he turned back towards camp, shouting, "Hey! Alonzo! Come here, I want to show you something."
With a faintly questioning look, his friend joined him at the camp's perimeter.
"See that?" Danziger prompted.
Alonzo glanced at him, plainly baffled. "It's the DuneRail."
"Right. And remember what I told you?"
Alonzo had a blank look on his face. Danziger handed him a wrench. Alonzo stared, a pained realization dawning. "You have got to be kidding me—"
"I never joke about my vehicles, Lonz."
"But it wasn't me!" he objected. "I didn't do it. Morgan was driving—"
"Nice try. But do you actually think I'd let Morgan anywhere near my vehicles, except as a passenger? – and even then," he mused, "I still kind of object. If you were stupid enough to let him drive, that's your own fault."
"But... that's not fair..."
"Aw. Too bad. Life's not fair. And quit giving me those sad eyes!" he badgered. "They don't work on me. The bottom line is, you said, and I quote – 'not a scratch'. I don't know why you're even complaining – I already fixed most of it for you. Come on," he coaxed, waving the toolkit in front of him. "You promised." He made his own sad face.
With an aggravated groan, Alonzo snatched the toolkit away from Danziger. "It wasn't like I ever intended to keep that promise," he grumbled.
"I find your honesty refreshing," he teased, unable to hide his smirk. "Now shut up and get to work. That Rail isn't gonna repair itself, you know, and we've only got an hour or so before we leave."
Alonzo walked over to the DuneRail, but his almost inaudible muttering had a markedly foul sound to it. "What needs fixing?" he finally asked, defeated.
"What doesn't?" Danziger retorted. "Since the two of you crashed it," he said, putting particular emphasis on the word 'crashed', "the steering's been a little tricky; I think it needs realigning. I already replaced the tire you ruined, but the motor and the drive line system could also use some tweaking—"
Danziger paused, suddenly realizing that all the components he'd been listing off were on the underside of the vehicle. Seeing Alonzo stiffly starting to lean over, Danziger hastily darted forward to intercept, catching his shoulder. "—Whoa, hold on a minute!" Alonzo quickly shrugged out from underneath his grasp, taking a startled step backward. "I changed my mind. On second thought," he said, grabbing the toolkit back, "maybe I'll handle that part myself." Julia hadn't even wanted to let Alonzo be out and about yet – if he crawled under the Rail and strained something because Danziger had goaded him into overexerting himself, Danziger was sure that Julia would kick his ass halfway around the planet.
"Here. You can reset the circuits on the solar array," Danziger decided, handing him the circuitry adapter, as if that were a plausible reason for his abrupt intervention. That was a nice sedentary job. "They haven't been charging properly, and the systems keep cutting out."
"What's the matter? Don't trust me near the engines?"
"Hell no," Danziger replied, already easing himself under the vehicle. "I remember what happened to the Roanoke— Ouch! Hey! Watch where you're stepping!"
"Sorry," Alonzo said, not sounding sorry at all.
Danziger grinned to himself, pleased to find out that Alonzo's standoffishness wasn't absolute – maybe he just needed a little push back into the routine.
"Hey, Martin. Good to see you up."
Morgan had been listening very intently for the sarcastic edge to Danziger's remark – was surprised to find it wasn't there. He looked at Danziger, who was standing there, waiting expectantly with a big heavy box on his shoulder. "I, uh, I'm not going to be much good at helping you pack," he warned. "I'm still not well."
Danziger's smirking smile looked a lot like laughter. "You're off the hook today," he agreed, and then as he passed by, muttered to himself in an undertone that probably wasn't meant to be heard, "And it's not like you were that good at it when you were well, either."
Slightly miffed, Morgan made his way to a nice-sized boulder and parked his butt there. This, he decided, was going to be a good day. They were packing up to leave these awful canyons, were going to put it all behind them, and drive off into the sunset... where some other horrible fate probably awaited them. With an aggravated sigh, Morgan wondering why his pessimistic side always won out whenever he started thinking. It was a good thing he had Bess.
"Morgan, you look so much better this morning," she gushed, full of her usual optimism. "And doesn't it look like it's going to be a perfect day for traveling? Still, keep your coat on until we're out of the canyons – I don't want you catching a chill," she said, adjusting it for him. "I've already talked to Baines, and you and I will be riding in the DuneRail with him. I'm just going to get Julia to check you out before we get underway. Does that sound good?"
"Sounds very good," he agreed. She started to move away, and he caught her hand. "Bess?"
"What's wrong, Morgan?"
"When you weren't there with me... I missed you, Bess."
She bent down to kiss him lightly, and gave him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. Only his Bess could smile like that. "I missed you, too, sweetie. Now wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Morgan obediently complied, happy to watch the bustling activity of the camp from his comfortable distance.
Julia appeared a few moments later, diaglove in hand, and asking all the questions he'd come to expect. How are you feeling this morning? Are you eating normally? Taking your medication? Any unusual dreams? Any unusual aches and pains?
Morgan was familiar enough with those questions to answer them almost by rote, pausing to briefly consider the intent of 'unusual aches and pains', and decided she didn't mean those that she already knew about.
"Your health has certainly improved, Morgan," Julia finally concluded. "You'll be back to your old self in no time."
"Oh, no, I don't know about that. You can't rush these things – sometimes it takes time." After all, he was in no hurry to get back to being Danziger's little packhorse.
Making no comment on his advice, Julia permitted herself a patient smile, then ventured, "Morgan," in a slightly different tone, "Bess told me that Alonzo had been talking with you last night."
"Yeah," he said, wondering why that statement had sounded so much like a question. And then, as she continued to stare hopefully at him, abruptly understood what she was looking for. She wanted to know what had been said – but she also didn't want to come right out and ask. "But," he stumbled in confusion, "but... I thought – I mean... hasn't he talked to you?"
It was the wrong thing to say. Somehow, at moments like these, Morgan always found the wrong thing to say.
The nervous expectation in her eyes immediately shut down, and the faint smile on her face was obviously just a mask. "You shouldn't have any problems travelling today, Morgan. I'll check on you again after we stop for the evening." And she turned on her heel, briskly walking away.
"Okay," he said to himself, wishing he could go back and change that last sentence just a little bit. But how was he supposed to have known? He hadn't been out of his tent in days. Now, watching the activity around camp much more closely, he could sense a bit of an odd dynamic to the group. Everyone went about their business, but... Morgan abruptly realized it was almost the reverse of the situation he'd found himself in when they'd first met those flying creatures.
Back then, everyone had been hesitant and extra careful around him, because Morgan had insisted there was something wrong with Alonzo, and they all thought he was crazy. Now that guardedness was directed at Alonzo, which Morgan found ironic, since he was fairly sure the danger was passed.
And maybe it had passed, but as Morgan watched, he saw Alonzo still going around like one of the walking wounded. That had been made fairly evident to Morgan last night, but at the time, he'd thought it was just him. That Alonzo was uncomfortable around him. But if he hadn't even been talking to Julia, of all people...
"Alonzo!" Danziger called. "We're almost ready to go. You coming along with us, or taking a spot on the Rail? Plenty of room here – I've just got Uly and True in the Rover."
"No. If it's all the same to you, I think I'll walk for a while."
Julia's head snapped around. "It's not 'all the same'. You're not well enough to be traveling on foot."
Morgan winced inwardly, fully expecting to see a sudden flare of resentment in Alonzo's eyes, but he barely glanced at her.
"I'm not broken," Alonzo said evenly. "I can walk for a while." And he looked past Julia towards Danziger for confirmation.
Danziger was watching the pilot with intent scrutiny, then abruptly gave an amicable shrug. "Okay," he said, and maybe he didn't see the way Julia stiffened with disbelief, or maybe he was just ignoring it. "But just for a while," he qualified. "And only as long as you can keep up with the Rover. You start falling behind, then you're getting in the vehicle, and I don't want to hear any arguments about it."
Alonzo nodded. Julia rounded on Danziger, who motioned her away, the two of them obviously going somewhere else to argue.
Morgan sat and watched for a few moments. Bystander, he reminded himself, mentally reciting the lessons he thought he'd learned. 'Always safer to be a bystander. Keep your head down, and stay out of the line of fire.' All very good advice. Problem was, he'd never been all that good at following advice. With a dismayed shake of his head, Morgan stood up and ventured over to Alonzo.
The other man gave him only a perfunctory glance. "I'm really not in the mood for company right now, Morgan."
"Yeah, I... uh, kinda noticed."
"So what do you want, then?"
Morgan paused, wondering how to put it, then blurted out, "What're you doing?"
"What...?"
"You know what I mean."
Alonzo stared at him as if he truly didn't.
"I've been sitting over there watching you, and on the one hand, you act like nothing ever happened," Morgan said, "but on the other hand, you're treating Julia like what she says is just a suggestion that you don't have to listen to, and you won't even look at her when you do it."
"I'm fine—" Alonzo started to say, but Morgan cut him off.
"No. You're really not."
It was a peculiar thing to be able to stare Alonzo down – Morgan was pretty sure he'd never managed that before.
"She cares about you, Solace. Why are you pushing her away?"
"I know she does," Alonzo sighed almost inaudibly, a flash of regret crossing his face, "but it's... too much for me right now. I'm not trying to push her away. I... just need..."
"What?" Morgan prompted. "What do you need? She can't help you if you won't tell her. And she's worked herself to the bone trying to help you. She's worried about you." Alonzo hadn't seen it – he'd been mostly asleep or unconscious, as Julia had been working herself ragged over the two of them.
Even for Morgan, those memories now had a chaotic, blurred edge. The most significant thing he remembered was Bess. For a while, for the first few moments when she and Danziger had found them, her presence with him was enough to make him almost forget what he'd been through. But eventually, his other aches and pains became intrusive enough that he decided he really did need a doctor.
Then Yale and Julia had arrived, and then all the others – all hovering around, jostling him as they carted him here and there, and all shouting, it seemed – while almost overtop his head, in a billowing whitish blur, a tent had been set up with surprising speed. So quick and surreal that it seemed almost dreamlike. By that point, though, he'd grown a bit numb to everything. When Bess had leaned over and told him he could rest, that she'd stand guard and wouldn't let anything happen to him, it had seemed like a very good idea indeed. Smart woman, his wife.
Next time he woke, the white bubble over his head looked very much like the med tent. Bess was slumped over next to him, fast asleep with her head nestled up against his arm. Julia, pale and drawn and obviously in need of sleep herself, was wide-awake, consulting her equipment and her scopes and her readouts with feverish intensity.
Something had been pressing uncomfortably against his face, but when Morgan lifted his hand to pull it away, the movement must have caught Julia's eye, for she'd suddenly leapt to her feet and rushed over to him. "No, no," she objected, catching his hand and gently pushing it aside. "Leave it. You still need it." And then paused to give him a smile. "How are you feeling, Morgan?"
"Better," he decided. Better than what? Better than being a roasted carcass abandoned on top of a mountain. Yes, much better than that. "How're... you?"
Julia had laughed a little, as if he'd said something amusing. "I'm fine. Thank you. But I think you need to rest."
At the time, he didn't think that made much sense – he'd just woken up, after all – but strangely enough, she was right. He was awfully tired. Turning his head, he caught sight of Alonzo lying on a cot next to him. Morgan hoped he didn't look quite as bad as that, but realized he probably did. All of a sudden, he'd understood the antiseptic flavour of the air. The cool feel of the dermaplasts against his burned skin. The pleasant numbness that had to be painkillers.
Morgan had looked back at Julia with a rush of alarm, but she must have followed his gaze and she had been staring intently at Alonzo as if she desperately needed him to be awake, just for a moment or two. Morgan had felt almost sorry for her. Trying to be reassuring, he gave a clumsy pat on Julia's hand, and her eyes had snapped back to him, almost guiltily. "Don't worry," he said. "I think he'll be okay now."
"What are you basing that on?"
"Nothing," he'd admitted. Tried to shrug, but his shoulders weren't moving. "Just a feeling..."
"All right." A bland, equivocal reply that merely meant she was ending the conversation. "I want you to try to go back to sleep now, Morgan. You are recovering," she reassured him, "but at the moment, your body needs the rest."
He'd listened to her, because it had seemed like profoundly good advice – and to be under doctor's orders to sleep; now there was an opportunity he didn't want to squander – but every time he'd wakened, Bess and Julia had been there. Bess had been watchful and calm, but no fear in her eyes, but Julia had always been awake, always working, always glancing anxiously towards Alonzo, as if her worries hadn't been alleviated.
Looking at Alonzo now, Morgan wondered just how much the other man remembered. Did he recall little snippets of what had happened, or was all of it a deep well of darkness that he'd more than half-forgotten? There was a morose uneasiness in his expression that seemed to indicate that, whatever the answer was, Alonzo wasn't comfortable with it.
"Are you listening? Did you hear what I said?" Morgan repeated, and Alonzo looked over at him as if he'd just been interrupted. "Julia," Morgan prompted. "I said, she's worried about you."
"I know that."
"So why are you avoiding her? Trust me, Alonzo, what happened out there isn't some great big secret – you're probably the only person in this camp not talking about it. You don't want to tell any of us, fine. But why don't you at least talk to Julia? Tell her."
"Tell her what?" Alonzo snapped. "Tell her what, Morgan? About dreams, visions, prophecies? Bits and pieces of things that I can't prove are even real? She's a doctor. A scientist. And I'm just... I'm... I don't know what the hell I am right now." He threw up his hands. "Look, just let me deal with it on my own, okay? I'm a hell of a lot older than you," he said dismissively. "I can look after myself by now."
"Yeah, you keep saying that," Morgan retorted waspishly, "and no one ever calls you on it, but it's not exactly true when you stop to think about it. Who cares how many years you spent in cold sleep? Doesn't count for anything. Count the number of days that you've spent awake, and you're probably younger than most everyone around here but Uly and True. So maybe you shouldn't be blowing people off all the time."
Alonzo appeared to be visibly taken aback, as if he couldn't quite believe he was being lectured to by Morgan Martin. Or maybe that was just the look he gave before he jumped up and punched people in the face for their temerity. Morgan wasn't quite sure.
In any case, the call of "Morgan, honey," on Bess' voice could not have come at a more opportune moment. She was waiting for him with a bright and breezy smile. "It's time to go. Are you ready?"
"Yes! Absolutely, completely, totally ready."
"Well, come on, then," she urged. "Baines is already bringing the DuneRail around."
Giving a quick nod to Alonzo, Morgan hurried to join Bess, pausing a little as he walked by the TransRover. There, Uly was sitting and sighing loudly and peering out the open passenger window in apparent boredom, looking almost as impatient to get underway as Morgan felt. Bess had mentioned something about Uly earlier – something about Terrians and hypersensitivity and the land around here.
"Don't worry, Uly," Bess called up to the boy. "We'll be leaving in a few minutes."
"I'm tired of waiting," he said petulantly. "We've been camped here for days. I want to go now." As his gaze settled on Morgan, he leaned out the window to stare down at him in sudden interest. "You helped the wings, didn't you?"
"Um... well, yes, sort of, I guess," he hedged uncertainly. Uly, like Alonzo, had a weird kind of affinity with Terrians, and Morgan suspiciously wondered if this were a trick question. "They got what they wanted, anyway. Not really sure if that's the same thing... So, did we save the day? Will the Terrians come back and..." he waved a hand imprecisely around at the scrubby landscape, "make everything good here again? Renew the earth, set things right, et cetera, et cetera?"
"No," Uly replied, almost without thinking, "I don't think they're ever coming back here. Not for a long time, anyway. It tastes like death to them, and besides, they don't like the wings."
Morgan goggled at the child, who seemed oblivious to his surprise. And once again, he wondered just how deeply ingrained that Terrian knowledge of Uly's was. "Well, aren't you full of fun facts," he muttered, then said more loudly, "At least we agree on one thing: I don't like 'the wings' either."
Alonzo walked alone, because he wanted to be alone, and this time they let him.
A long ways ahead, the ATV was a plume of dust in the distance, already nearing the peak of the long slope leading out of the canyons. The DuneRail bounced over the uneven ground as it energetically pursued the same path, while the much slower, more ponderous TransRover was trailing even further behind.
On foot, walking alongside the TransRover, Cameron, Denner, Magus and Yale were engaged in light conversation. Julia followed a short distance after them, not trailing so far behind that she was keeping company with Alonzo, but not so far ahead of him either. He knew she still worried about him; whenever she looked at him now, he could feel that watchful concern bleeding through her gaze. It made him not want to meet her eyes, and he knew that hurt her, and he didn't want to do that either.
But it was the first time anyone had let him be alone in days. In the camp, it had seemed that someone was always shadowing his footsteps; no matter when or where he went, someone would happen to appear and want to accompany him. All very innocuous and friendly, but Alonzo had noticed several of them casting furtive glances skyward, and surmised that their constant presence was meant for his protection. They meant well – he understood that, and had tried not chafe under the restriction – but it was stifling, always having someone looking over his shoulder and checking up on him.
He needed some distance, some time to think.
Things were confusing right now. He was at loose ends, unsettled in a way he hadn't been since when they'd first landed here, since the Terrians had first stepped into his mind. He couldn't shake the malaise that had settled over him.
Empty, unresolved, unanswered.
He needed... something...
Morgan's words continued to eat at him, and he wasn't able to dismiss them as easily as he wanted to. He watched Julia walking ahead of him, her small shoulders resolute, but carrying an undeniable weariness on her slight frame. Had he done that to her?
Ahead of him, the rest of the Eden group looked like a long threadlike line, slowly winding their way out of the valleys. Far ahead, Morgan was riding with the Rail, and Alonzo, hanging back, would be the last to leave. Was there significance to that?
And he shook his head at that thought – now he'd turned into a mystic, looking for symbols in the earth and sky. All that meant was that he was didn't have any answers, was flailing to find a way out.
Abruptly realizing how far he was lagging behind, and not doubting for a moment that Danziger would hold him to his word if he didn't promptly pick up the pace, Alonzo spurred himself to walk forward more quickly.
He halted, catching sight of the silhouette whirling overhead almost in the same moment that a cry of alarm went up. Wings. A sudden storm of wings. Fluttering, flapping, and descending from the sky to alight upon the overhanging stone walls, on the boulders, and landing on the ground all around him in a loose unthreatening circle. Something subtle shifted within him in lightning-quick succession. Dread, fear, longing, terror, compulsion. He tried them all, but none fit quite right.
Ahead of him, everything had rumbled to a halt, the TransRover idling, and everyone standing and staring in petrified uncertainty. No voices, no motion, just absolute stillness. For an instant, he wondered if he were caught in a dream.
And then saw a flurry of reactive movement from the corner of his eye, turned his head to see Julia struggling toward him while Yale held her back. In other hands, weapons were being upraised, swivelling towards him, towards the wings—
Alonzo flung up his hand. "Don't—!"
The weapons did not lower, but no shots were fired.
"What's going on, Lonz?" Danziger's voice, deceptively mild as he leapt down from the TransRover, stalking slowly forward with the MagPro held ready.
Why did people ask questions like that? Why did they think he knew? Once, maybe, he might have ventured an answer. But since he'd met the winged Terrians, there had been only uncertainty and confusion. Some part of him had been broken into many pieces, and he hadn't even begun to pull it all back together.
"Just wait," he said evenly, turning back to regard the wings. "Wait."
The winged ones were not restless, not agitated, not advancing. They were waiting for him. Calmly waiting to see what he would choose to do. Filled now with endless patience. If he walked away, he knew they would let him walk. His choice.
Julia touched his shoulders, and he jumped. In his preoccupation, he hadn't heard her coming up behind him. "Alonzo," she murmured softly, her voice aching. "Whatever it is, you've done enough. Come on. Let's go." Her hands were clasped tightly on his shoulders as she tried to draw him away.
"Wait," he said again, refusing to move. He tried to make sense of what it was he felt. What was being offered. No threats, no need to fear, and that little small bundle of wings flickering like a butterfly behind the protective shelter of the elder ones...
Curiosity got the better of him, and he began to step forward.
Julia held him back, her grip taut with misgiving. "Are you sure?" she whispered from behind him.
"I'm sure," he replied.
She let him go.
There was a flurry of protest from the others, but Alonzo disregarded it. He walked slowly forward, moving tentatively towards that less patient, fluttering small shape that danced around the tall, angular figures that were waiting so tranquilly. One of the young ones? Morgan had mentioned seeing them, but... The small winged creature abruptly flew straight at him, and he balked, stumbling back in sudden alarm. A chirring sound from one of the elders and the little creature backed off, wings beating fast as it hovered unsteadily in midair.
Alonzo lifted his arm slightly, and the small creature needed no further invitation, eagerly alighting upon it. Pixie-like and feather-light. It nimbly clambered up towards his shoulder, nuzzling lightly against his face. Startled joy bubbled through him at that electric touch, and Alonzo laughed aloud in surprise. ...Joy delight and bright eyed wonder twirling dancing happy in the wide sky fearless flying the wind...
Beneath that unthinking stream of consciousness, he could sense the faint rippling echo of the others trying to moderate that exuberance, urging restraint: quietly, take care, do not harm, fragile things, not like wings...
But it wasn't like before. Wasn't pain, wasn't anguish, wasn't fear. No compulsion. Just newborn-elation-freedom-happiness-exhilaration-hope. He tried to catch it in his hands, savouring the unexpected realization that this was what it was like to speak to the sky – the way it should have been, would have been – not a scream, but a song.
He dared extend a hand, and felt one of the elder ones sweep gently against his outstretched fingertips.
... not forgotten we are beholden if needed ever call down the wind...
A beating of wings in his face, and the young one had already flown away, was spinning upwards into the sky in an ebullient, carefree flight. All around him, the elder wings took to the air, and in moments, he was standing alone again.
Only a few steps away, Julia stood watching him, her arms tightly folded about her as if she were virtually holding herself back, but her taut expression lightened hopefully as he turned his gaze toward her.
"Are you all right?"
The same question he'd been asked, over and over and over again. But, for the first time in a long time, he meant it when he replied, "I'll be fine."
She was staring at him so intently that he knew the doctor in her must have been trying to pin down, identify and quantify the difference she saw.
Alonzo didn't have the words to explain it, but the winged ones had given him what he needed. Apology and answer; they had tried to make amends. There was a reason for what had happened. Purpose. Though he'd known it before, he hadn't truly felt it until now.
"It's all right," he murmured, taking her hand, and that gesture felt comfortably familiar to him again. "Let's go."
And although he wasn't wholly healed yet, he knew he would be. He would find his way back. For the moment, the awareness of that – and the pleasant feel of Julia's hand in his – was enough.
– fin–