Being of the Field (12 page)

His heart ached a moment as Amie came to mind, although not as it had when he’d first learned of her death and seen her mutilated body. At that time it had felt like he’d taken a dagger straight in the back and through his chest that could not be withdrawn. Now that he knew the truth about his wife, it felt as if his heart had been cut right out, and there was only a heavy, painful emptiness left in the wake of what he’d thought was the love of his life.

As he sat down at his desk to place a request for an audio-visual link-up to base, he thrust his personal feelings and suspicions aside. He had no proof; he could not accuse Swithin, he could only relay some of what had unfolded here and see what kind of a reaction it fetched.

‘Lucian, you inconsiderate bastard.’ Swithin appeared on the screen at Lucian’s workstation, wiping the sleep from his eyes. ‘You know it’s the middle of the night here, right? You did check the time difference before—’

‘Amie has been murdered, Swithin.’

The news served to grab his attention. ‘What? Are you kidding?’

‘Her throat was cut,’ Lucian told him, unwillingly taken back into some of the emotions he’d felt when he first discovered that the woman he adored had been taken from him.

‘Damn…that’s bad.’ Swithin put his head down, hiding his initial reaction, which could be seen as grief at the loss of a close friend and business partner. When he looked up, his eyes were moist with tears. ‘I can’t believe it.’ His tears overflowed. ‘Do you know what happened?’

‘She was killed by an MSS sleeper agent,’ Lucian informed him coolly, and his brother looked startled.

‘Dr Lennox?’

‘You know about her MSS history?’ Lucian found this most interesting.

‘Well, yes, I know it,’ Swithin confessed. ‘I sent her up there to discover our leak!’

‘You know how I feel about the MSS?’ Lucian lectured.

‘Yes, yes. I also know how you feel about having our research stolen…so shoot me!’ he said, and winced. ‘But I didn’t expect this!’

‘The really bad news is that there is a highly explosive gas sample traveling back to you on Kestler’s pod.’

Swithin was stunned again.

‘It’s a secret delivery for the MSS, who have no idea what they are dealing with. You must get the sample before they do and release it immediately, or the entire planet is in jeopardy.’

‘What kind of jeopardy?’ He was curious.

‘The kind that we
do not
want to be accountable for, understand me?’ Lucian wished he’d asked the entity to be more specific about what would happen if they failed, but the encounter had been so intense and unexpected he hadn’t been thinking straight. ‘We are on our way back to you as we speak, but have no chance of catching the pod within ten days, which is when this sample will become very volatile. So make sure the pod’s arrival is not delayed for any reason.’

‘I’ll take care of it,’ Swithin said vehemently.

‘I stress again, release it
immediately
.’ Lucian emphasised the point, so that whether or not his brother was working with the MSS he knew the score.

‘I got it.’ Swithin gave Lucian a stare that entreated him to have a little faith.

During the ten days that followed, Taren managed to get some of her own research done, whilst keeping an eye on the images of Azazèl-mindos-coomra-dorchi that their satellites on Oceane were relaying back to AMIE. At present, the being overshadowing over a third of Oceane’s surface area seemed just as it always had, but Taren expected that would change soon, as the entity was due to depart in the next few days.

As far as her own research went, the first series of experiments she intended to run was to see if space and distance affected an individual’s ability to alter the past.

Taren had already proven that time was not the one-way forwardmoving procession that humans had always believed it to be—debunking the old myth that cause must always precede effect. She had done this in a study of people with incurable tumours, who received remote healing intentions for a six-month period. Their tumours were then compared to those of other patients with similar-sized growths who had not received healing. Taren had discovered that those who received the healing maintained a stronger resistance to their disease, and some subjects had even gone into remission—against all medical probability.

What this had to do with changing the past was that Taren had actually sent the healing to her subjects four years after the final analysis on the patients involved had been completed.

This discovery had gone down like a lead balloon on Maladaan, and although the institute had kept this research under wraps they had not discouraged her from continuing her work.

Taren was not a psychic healer as such, but as a psychic she had proven adept at focusing and sustaining an intention to heal, much as any well-trained mind could. As any psychic kept themselves well hidden on Maladaan, she had been forced to utilise the only psychic she’d known at the time—herself.

Since the day she had left the planet, there were students in her labs on Maladaan who were monitoring subjects that she would be working with from space. And as before, her students were comparing rates of recovery in this group with other test subjects who would not be receiving the healing intentions that Taren would begin sending this week. They were limiting the trial to a one-month period, and she could hardly wait to discover if her patients had shown any improvement yet. Taren had planned to be in distant space while sending her healing intentions, so it would be interesting to see if the decreasing distance between their craft and Maladaan was having any impact on the results.

Taren’s assigned students were not as excited about her work as she was—they worked with her under sufferance until they earned their way into the labs of more respected and renowned scientists, but she knew they were conscientious and would be diligent in recording information.

Taren placed a request for an audio-visual link-up from her office to her labs back on Maladaan, and waited to be patched through by Aurora.

After releasing their inter-dimensional guest from the craft, Taren had switched over to the day shift, not that one could really tell the difference in space. It was only day in so far as it was daytime back in their capital city, Esponisa on Maladaan.

This meant Taren had been successful in avoiding Zeven, as they were now on different shifts and inhabiting different parts of the vessel. Taren had also been learning her way around AMIE and found there was no need to go anywhere near the bridge. The pilot left a couple of messages for her, and she had tried to return the calls only to get his message service. With every day that passed, time was putting a greater distance between them and their misadventure on Oceane and this was a relief to Taren. She really didn’t need any personal dramas right now.

‘Patching you through,’ Aurora advised from the monitor of Taren’s workstation. Another window appeared in which Taren’s senior student was waiting to speak with her.

‘Greetings from space,’ Taren gloated, knowing how jealous people had been of her assignment to AMIE. ‘What’s new?’

‘What’s new!’ exclaimed Frank, her normally reserved and sceptical colleague. ‘You’ve cured them all!’

‘What do you mean, I cured them all?’ He had to be pulling her leg. ‘Don’t mess with me, Frank, or you can kiss that PhD goodbye.’

‘Hey, I’m the cynic, remember! You want me to show you all your terminally ill patients bouncing around like teenagers?’

‘Yes,’ Taren replied, her excitement mounting.

‘No trust!’ He rolled his eyes as he picked up his communication station and walked with it into the study rooms.

All her positive-healing test group were up and walking about, smiling, looking healthy. When they noticed Taren on the monitor, they all wanted to speak with her at once.

‘I’ve never believed in psychics,’ laughed one of her older male patients, ‘but I am a
living
testament to your work, Dr Lennox.’

‘Thank you seems so inadequate, doctor,’ said another young woman, her eyes filled with tears. ‘My children will have a mother, thanks to you.’

‘This is a miraculous supernatural phenomenon,’ an older lady said. ‘Your field truly exists!’

Taren was overwhelmed by their expressions of gratitude and their claims that she’d performed a miracle! Indeed it was, for them, although she felt she was just proving a theory correct.

‘Okay, time to say goodbye.’ Frank got them to bid farewell, then went back to his office where it was quiet and they could talk.

‘Let that be a lesson to you. I always tell the truth.’ Frank sat down in front of his monitor once more. ‘Either space has a profound effect on one’s ability to change the past or your psychic talents have increased about tenfold.’

‘And I haven’t even done the healing yet.’ Taren laughed in a nervous kind of way. What would account for such a resounding success? Was it space itself? Was it her stay on Oceane, or had her brief
association with Azazèl-mindos-coomra-dorchi had something to do with it?

‘Does anyone else know about this?’ Taren wanted a chance to analyse the results herself.

‘Well…’ Frank cringed, motioning vaguely in the direction of the hullabaloo in the patients’ rooms, ‘it has been a little hard to keep quiet. But the institute isn’t going public about this, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Could you send me—’

‘My full report is already in your inbox,’ Frank assured her.

‘Keep—’

‘I’ll keep monitoring the group and let you know if there is any change.’ He grinned.

‘Could you be any more efficient?’ Taren rolled her eyes and smiled.

‘I’ll have a follow-up report ready by the time you get back,’ he winked.

Taren told him that that could be a little sooner than expected as AMIE was making an unscheduled return to Maladaan.

‘I’ll see you soon then.’ Frank ended the transmission and Taren sat back at her desk and clenched her fists triumphantly. ‘
Yes
!’

‘Success?’

Taren was startled by Zeven’s voice and swivelled her chair around to find him leaning in the doorway. He waved, looking a tad unsure about his visit.

‘Mr Gudrun?’ She checked her watch to be sure she hadn’t lost track of the time. ‘What are you doing up at this time of day?’

‘I got a day off and figured this was the only chance I’d get to actually make contact.’ He shrugged in conclusion. ‘Do you have time to get something to eat?’

Taren felt really put on the spot—Aurora was at her desk across the room, and was no doubt watching. ‘I can’t right now. I have an isolation chamber booked for an experiment I’m—’

‘Some other time then.’ He moved to leave without further ado.

Taren felt really terrible…he’d obviously put his whole sleep cycle out of whack, just to see her. ‘It is really important that I do this—’

‘I understand, really,’ he said, trying to sound convincing. But when
he gave her a sad half smile as he slowly moved off, her heart couldn’t stand the thought of letting him leave with nothing to show for his effort.

‘I’ll be free in a few hours,’ she mentioned, wanting to kick herself as soon as she said it.

‘Cool.’ His smile was warm with sincere happiness. ‘How about takeaway at my joint?’

That was a more private engagement than Taren was expecting. Obviously, he wanted to talk, and perhaps privacy was for the best. ‘I’ll come as soon as I’m done.’

‘Excellent,’ he said, ‘see you then.’

Taren waved, and as soon as he was gone she headed to the doorway to see if Aurora was watching. Of course, she was.

As the pilot passed her desk on his way out of the offices, she rose with a pile of papers to file.

‘Wow.’ Zeven noted Aurora was wearing a classy dress and heels and as he was in such a good mood, he thought he’d pay her a compliment. ‘You look hot today, Rory.’

‘Thanks,’ she replied, and walked into Lucian’s office without serving him a second glance.

Her lack of interest took him aback for a second, but he shrugged it off and continued along his merry way.

When he was gone Taren went dashing across to Lucian’s office, and knowing he was on R and R for a few days, she entered to speak with Aurora. ‘Did you see how Starman looked at you just then?’ Taren was delighted. Aurora was not.

‘He asked you out, didn’t he?’ She wasn’t hostile, just disheartened.

‘Actually he asked me in.’ Taren wanted to be up front about it.

‘He invited you back to his place!’ Now Aurora was devastated. ‘You’re a goner.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Taren insisted, ‘but it does give me the perfect opportunity to tell him I’m not interested, in private. I really don’t want to hurt him, or you, I just want to get past this so we can all move on.’

Aurora drew a deep breath to bury her feelings and smiled. ‘He said I look hot.’

‘He did.’ Taren smiled back.

‘Thanks,’ Aurora said. ‘For someone I’ve only known a little while, you’re a
real
good friend.’

‘Ditto, girlfriend.’ Taren gave her a squeeze and then noted the time. ‘Oh gosh, I’m going to be late.’

‘Good luck with the break-up,’ Aurora whispered as Taren rushed to her appointment with an isolation chamber.

Taren was feeling wonderful in the wake of her two-hour meditation, throughout which she had been sending her intention to heal the people that she had already healed. Having the effect precede the cause gave her ultimate confidence in her abilities. It was like a composer hearing his musical masterpiece before he writes a single note, leaving no room for doubt that he will finish the composition. Taren was thinking she should have some tests run on herself to see if there had been any change in her physiology since the medical she’d had before boarding the craft. Her experiment had been a huge success. Now she just had to figure out why.

She was in a real dilemma about what to wear on this date of hers—pants were definitely the order of the day, but she didn’t want to look like she was dressing up for him, or show up looking like a complete dag either. She found a modest top, a bit of jewellery and just a touch of make-up—which she only ever donned for social occasions.

As she walked out of her living quarters and headed towards next door, Taren saw Lucian walking down the hall towards her.

‘Where are you off to looking so fabulous?’ he commented on his way past.

I look fabulous?
Taren panicked on the inside—it was not the impression she’d been hoping to give—and she found herself completely lost for words. Why did this man always make her feel like a blithering idiot?

The door to Zeven’s quarters opened. ‘There you are.’ She was startled by his sudden presence, and glanced back to catch Lucian’s reaction.

The look on his face was one of wry amusement. ‘I see…have a good evening,’ he said, and moved on.

Taren badly wanted to tell him it was not how it looked. ‘Damn it,’ she muttered under her breath and looked at Zeven, who appeared most confused by her reaction.

‘What’s wrong?’ he inquired innocently.

Taren gave him the evil eye, although she did smile to lessen the sting. ‘You know damn well what is wrong.’ She raised a finger and beckoned him to follow her into his quarters.

‘This is not going to be romantic, is it?’ He paused before entering, not quite as eager to be alone with her now.

She shook her head and, releasing a huge disappointed breath, Zeven entered and closed the door behind them.

Taren had envisioned a really awkward confrontation, ending with her walking out and Zeven never speaking to her again. Instead, he respected her decision to concentrate on her work while she was here on AMIE.

‘But once we are not stuck on this bucket of bolts, you have to let me take you out to dinner,’ Zeven proffered.

‘If you still want to by then…sure,’ Taren agreed.

So they ate, watched a movie, had a few drinks and quite a few more laughs than Taren had expected. When he wasn’t trying to chat her up, Zeven was a seriously interesting and funny guy who had many fascinating stories to tell.

In the end, Taren thanked him for a great night and left with their friendship still intact, and no chance of a relationship on the immediate horizon. She’d managed to maintain the status quo and it was a great relief indeed.

Swithin was waiting in the pod bay to meet Kestler on arrival, just as he had promised his brother. Lucian had made the urgency of releasing this sample very clear, so he ordered the ground crew to give Kestler’s pod top priority.

He was waiting in the hangar area observing the pod being lowered to ground level in its cradle, when a large black hovercar pulled up and stopped close beside him. At the same time the handset in his pocket started ringing. Swithin knew it was Lucian calling, so he switched the handset to his message service.

‘Gentlemen,’ he greeted the unofficial government officials wryly. ‘What can we do for the MSS this fine day?’

One of the darkly clad foursome, who carried a briefcase, removed his dark eye-bands, to look Swithin in the eye. ‘Ask not what you can do for us, but what we can do for you.’ He handed over the keys to the hovercar and the briefcase. ‘Your off-world craft awaits you at the Central Bay port. Have a great trip.’

Swithin opened the case and after closely scrutinising the large bundles of notes within he was a little confused. ‘Don’t you want me to wait around until you secure the sample?’