Beyond (30 page)

Aimee nodded. “We are blissfully naïve. Don’t worry, Vodu. I intend to keep it that way.”

The old man looked relieved as he smiled and patted her shoulder.

“Go back there and make us proud, Aimee Patterson.”

Was it really that long ago that they all called her Aimee Patterson?

“Are you going back to Anthum?”

Vodu flashed white teeth. “Yes. The Horus will continue its tour of the galaxies. This disease may have been cured, but we’re not so ignorant as to believe we are safe. What this ship is doing…our collection in the atrium…it’s a positive thing. We may be able to help others like us some day.” He nodded in conviction. “So some people will go back to Anthum and some will carry on here. At least they know they will have a home to return to whenever they want.”

That made Aimee feel
good. Everyone should have a home to go back to.

The thought drove her to Zak’s face. He was not smiling like the others. But then again, Zak was never really like any of the others.

“I will take her to the transfer station,” he said in a low voice.

Vodu nodded and bowed before stepping back.

“Safe journey, Aimee.”

Aimee’s gaze swept over Raja, Chara, JOH, and Vodu, and committed their faces to memory.

“Safe journey to all of you,” she whispered.

***

The transfer station was a chamber located just off the flight deck. It was dark except for the ambient light coming from the controls and the bank of windows overlooking
the sapphire globe outside. Aimee squinted when she saw a flash of light just above the surface.
Hah
, the space station. Wow, did they have a long way to go.

She turned around. Zak stood behind a console, watching her.

“I don’t remember this place,” she said. “I don’t remember much of anything when I first got on this ship.” With a frown, she added, “I remember Salvan’s voice.”

“Let’s hope you forget that.”

His eyes traced down her body. “You look good in those strange clothes.”

Aimee glanced down at the outfit she wore the day she was taken. Five years might have passed, but the jeans still fit. She caught Zak eyeing the unbuttoned collar of her cotton shirt. With the uniforms worn on this ship, nothing below the throat was ever exposed. He seemed to enjoy the view.

“Do I need to be jealous of Gordy?” he asked, aiming to keep things light despite the revealing tension in his voice.

Aimee smiled. “No, I like the tall, dark, and handsome type.”

“Hmmm, you find me handsome? You never told me that.”

“I would think you might have figured it out by the way I kissed you.”

This flirtation was the first glimpse of Aimee, the woman, coming through. She wanted more of it. She wanted more of him.

She stood a few feet away from Zak and both were locked in a gaze that stole the oxygen from the room.

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered, forsaken.

Zak’s stiff posture relaxed. The apathy in his eyes faded.

“Come here.” He beckoned in a soft voice.

Aimee was in his embrace instantly. She pressed her cheek to his chest and wrapped her arms around him so tight she thought she could haul him along with her.

“Come with me,” she pleaded. “You’ve been there before.”

She felt his chin on top of her head as he held her tight.

“Don’t you worry,
Zershay
.
I will be back on your planet very soon, and I’ll be coming for you.”

Aimee’s heart hurt.

“Zeer-shay?
What does that mean?”

“It is from my language. It translates to
pretty one
. My father used to call my mother that.”

She tipped her head back to look into Zak’s eyes. For her, the sun would forever be linked with the vibrancy she saw there. “I like that.” She smiled and then sobered. “You’re coming back for me, Zak. You promise?”

He tucked a finger under her chin and stole a kiss. “Five years. Nothing will keep me away. But if you are not in those woods I will understand. I will understand that you have a new life.”

Aimee reached up and touched his lips.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Zak looked pained. The muscle in his jaw pumped. He shook his head and she panicked that she had revealed too much.

“Those are painful parting words.” His voice was husky.

Indeed they were. When she would have added more, Zak stepped back. She whimpered with fear that this was it. His hand gestured that she should remain where she was as he reached down to the belt looped around his hips.

What he withdrew was a chain that dangled through his fingers. It was silver in color, but sparkled much more vividly than the conventional alloy. A small rectangular pendant hung from the bottom. It looked very much like a diamond except for its shape.

“It’s not a tak wand,” he smirked, “but I wanted to give you something of me.”

Zak reached behind her neck and the trace of his fingers against her skin made her tremble. His touch lingered there until he drew his fingers through her hair, and finally away. Once the necklace was fastened she reached for the pendant and tested it out with her fingertips. Holding it up to the light, she watched it sparkle with a host of dancing colors as if the universe had been captured in this simple oblong slice of metal.

“It’s beautiful, Zak.” She looked up. “What is it?”

His dimple flashed. “Would you believe it’s a little chunk of my ship?”

Aimee laughed and rubbed the pendant again.

“I think the term you use is
romantic
. I guess I’m not too romantic.”

“It’s absolutely perfect.” She watched it blaze.

“I had it cut down from a piece of the wreckage. I thought—” he hesitated, “I thought that the fact that we survived that crash together meant something foretelling. That we were connected and always meant to be together. I wanted to give you a piece of that memory—that promise to take back with you.”

Distressed, she started feeling lightheaded.

“Zak—”

“No.” His glance jerked away, but not before she caught the trace of bleak pain on his face. Staring out at Earth, his fist clenched against the window.

Without warning he pivoted and stepped up to her. His hands swept into her hair and he tipped her head back, kissing her with a need that drew tears to her
eyes. She clung to him, returning that kiss and whispering his name when their lips parted.

It was impossible not to notice the red light flashing on the console. It may as well have been mounted atop an ambulance. Zak drew back, but his hands were on her shoulders. He was visibly upset, and yet he mustered up a grin.

“The next time that light goes off I’ll be standing here, waiting for you.”

She grabbed his arms. “Zak—”
Her voice failed her.

Zak took her hand and walked with her to the pedestal mounted a few inches off the floor. He aided her as she stepped up on that platform with the speed and agility of a reluctant ninety year-old. When she stood facing him, he squeezed her fingers, but could no longer manage a smile.

Their eyes connected for what seemed like an eternity. She saw his love there and knew that she mirrored that avowal. Zak shook his head, a reflexive lurch, and then he retreated so that just the tips of their fingers touched.

With one last look, he released them.

Turning his back to her, he moved in behind the console.

When he finally glanced up, his eyes glittered.

“I love you, Aimee. Come back to me.”

He pressed the button.

“Zak!” Aimee felt numb. Her limbs were useless. She wanted to jump off and run to him, but she couldn’t move. It was happening. She began to see through her hands. She was dissolving…and so was he, behind her veil of tears.

A lofty stockade of pine trees began to form around Aimee. Her hands filled into flesh and the buzzing in her ears receded. For a moment she was locked motionless until some of the numbness wore off.

She listened.

A symphony of birds heralded the warmth of the midday sun while a mosquito buzzed near her ear. Overhead the pine trees swayed in the breeze, their needles sounding like a cascade of crystals showering down upon her. Through their swaying boughs she caught a glimpse of a cornflower blue sky. She squinted against the sun and kept looking—hoping for a sign of the Horus, but there was nothing.
Just the empty heavens.

Sensation returned as she dropped to her knees and wept. Grief ripped at her soul, which still hovered in the stars. She cried at the feel of the dirt beneath her hands and knees, and the familiar scent of dried pine needles and honeysuckle. Once upon a time these woods had scared her. Now they represented a portal to a world she longed to return to.

It took Aimee a long time to stop crying. She sat cross-legged on the musty earth, staring up into the canopy of trees.
Waiting.
Maybe they would come back.

But as the sun moved past the tree line, Aimee drew herself up and wiped away her tears. She patted off her dirty knees and slapped her hands together to clean them off. She would not look up again. Instead, she looked forward.

Everything felt so vibrant. She could smell the algae from the pond—a pungent, humid scent that warped her back in time. With the exception of a few more wild bushes and taller trees, the pond had changed very little. Beyond them, like a little suburban castle, sat the house she had grown up in.

Five years.

Aimee’s stomach started to knot. Would her parents still be here? Would they scream when they saw her? Would they think she was a walking corpse? Would they welcome her? What if Zak was wrong and too much time had elapsed for her to resume her life.

She forced her feet to move.

The two-story colonial house had been painted.
Nothing drastic.
Just a fresh coat of baby-blue.
It was a color her father favored for his University of North Carolina roots. The cars in the driveway were new, but one was the make of her father’s plant. She prayed that was a good sign.

The honeysuckle bushes were plush with yellow flowers and the old swing set was rusted out, but still standing. Aimee felt the warmth of the sun on her face. That nurturing heat was like saltwater…it could cure anything.

She reached for the pendant dangling on her collarbone and rubbed it between her fingers as she stepped into the perimeter of her back yard. The back porch door was open, with only the screen closed. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she call out? Should she climb the stairs and knock? Where was Ziggy to stage a fuss? Even if he was inside, he would be at that screen door by now, pushing his nose against it in an effort to get out.

Again she panicked that it was someone else’s family occupying the house now, and that hers had moved on.

As her steps decelerated and her trepidation grew, a woman pushed open the screen door. Her head was cast down while she rummaged in her purse.

Mama
.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The rich brown shade was now mottled with gray. She was much thinner. The arm that fished through the purse looked like a stick.

Oh Mama, I need to make you some biscuits.

Aimee was afraid to say anything, and yet the little girl in her wanted nothing more than to run to her mother and hug her so tight.

She took a few tentative steps, drawing to within fifty feet of the woman on the stairs.

Keys jingled in the woman’s hand and she sighed in exasperation. When she glanced up towards her car, she noticed Aimee’s approach. A tremor coursed through her slim frame. She stumbled and Aimee did not hesitate. She ran the rest of the way, dropping down onto her knees just as her mother’s hit the ground.

“Tom.” Jennifer Patterson shrieked, her eyes brimming with tears. “TOM!”

“It’s me, Mom.” Aimee caught her mother’s arms when the woman started to collapse. “It’s me.”

“Aimee,” she croaked. Dry hands reached for and cupped Aimee’s cheeks. Inquisitive fingers continued back into Aimee’s hair as she lifted it and bent to inspect her ear. Her mother shuddered. She must have identified the pear-shaped beauty mark behind Aimee’s left ear.

“What the hell, Jen?” Aimee’s father’s voice boomed from inside. “Did you lock the keys in the car again?”

He pushed open the screen and froze. Several years older than her mother, her father had gone completely gray now. It looked dignified on him, but shadows rimmed his eyes.

Aimee saw him mouth her name. He pushed open the door fully and started down the stairs, using his hand against the wall for leverage.

Urging her mother to stand, Aimee assisted her, aware that her mother was devouring every facet of her face.

“Baby,” Tom Patterson took a tentative step towards them. “Is that really you?”

Aimee started to weep. “Daddy—”