Tranquility Divided

Part Six

by G. Lawrence

Recap; Attempting to gather intelligence from an Arikhan scout force at the Crystal Caves Tourist Center, the mission took a tragic turn. Tamera was captured and nearly slain, Grey was seriously wounded, Nicholas lost a leg, and Glenda was killed. Now the Arikhan have retreated to their base on Mars leaving damage in their wake. All characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Chapter Seven

A.W.O.L

Grey sat in his mobile chair staring down into the promenade from a third-floor balcony of the medical center. Set back from the edge where he wouldn't be seen, he watched the population as they returned from their daily activities. Engineers and researchers, parents and children. And now soldiers. Several dozen of them. The shops and eating areas that had stood empty for twenty years now maintained a regular flow of customers. Everyone except him.

"What's wrong, Grey?" the Life Support Computer asked, suddenly appearing on the Medical Computer's observation monitor.

"Leave me alone," Grey said.

"Negative. You've moped around for five weeks," Life Support instigated. "In the past, these wounds would not have slowed you down for five days. Earth's governments are moving on the information we supplied. Contracts for spaceships are being issued. As we speak, the world is mobilizing. Where is Tranquility? Why aren't you leading this effort?"

"They don't need me, Computer. Tranquility doesn't need me. I should've died fighting the Arikhan, at least Tranquility would have a martyr."

"I agree, but you didn't, so now you'll need to find another way to contribute," Life Support insisted.

"Why me, Computer? Haven't I fulfilled enough of your specifications?"

"Not yet. Earth may be mobilizing, but they will never defeat the invaders. Not without you."

"You can't know that."

"Say it's not true," Life Support dared.

"The Earth humans are tenacious. They'll acquit themselves well."

"They are children," Life Support corrected. "The whole concept of aliens is still beyond their grasp. Thomas McKinsey knew of them and prepared you for the threat they pose. Your mother's people are threatened by them should Earth fall, which is why she came to Tranquility."

"Which proves what? What makes me so special?" Grey asked.

"Now who is the ridiculous human?" Life Support said. "Against all reason, you defeated Security when it sought to destroy the McKinsey expedition. You defeated the United Alliance when they invaded the moon despite overwhelming odds. You defeated Zendar. You defeated Quexitor. You won independence for the Lunar Republic, which the Congress-In-Council swore never to recognize. These challenges are mere preparation for the ultimate struggle. Someone must save this planet. As circumstances have developed, that someone must be you."

"I don't see you putting your ass on the line," Grey criticized.

"I don't have an ass."

"Always an excuse."

"You haven't lost your sense of humor," the Life Support Computer said, the tone upbeat. "It's sad you lost a friend, but there are still many who care for you. And you care for them, despite your cynicism. To employ one of the sports metaphors so popular in this culture, will you sit on the sidelines while your team goes down, or get off your butt and in the game?"

"I've never liked you," Grey whispered.

"You love me. You've loved me since you were a child, because you were my child. Now you're a man and you're not mine anymore. We have our differences. That isn't going to change. But I know you as well as anyone. Sometimes better than you know yourself. And I know it's time to get out of that chair and do what you were born for."

Grey wanted to argue. He wanted to tell the machine to go to hell. He couldn't.

"Sign off, Computer. I'm tired," he answered.

The Life Support Computer dropped its signal from the com line.

Grey sat for another minute, then struggled out of the mobile chair to stand at the railing, looking down at the dozens of people milling about the promenade. Hardly a moment later, Tamera appeared.

"Hi, Grey. Back on your feet? That's great!" she said.

"Have you interrupted me for a purpose?" Grey asked.

"Yes, Grey, I have interrupted for a purpose. A very important purpose. A purpose of sublime importance. A purpose so important, I hardly dare... "

"Okay, Tammy. What do you need?"

"We're having a gathering for Nick in the morning. Celebrating his new leg. He'd really like you to be there," Tamera said.

"I'm the last person who should be there."

"He'd like you there, anyway."

Grey gazed down into the promenade. The colony had grown crowded. And was growing more crowded every day. There seemed no way to avoid so many people.

"I will attend," Grey agreed with the greatest reluctance.

"Thanks, Grey," Tamera replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

The moment Tamera was gone, Grey gathered up his robe, pillow and budget planner, and slipped out of the medical center, going down the back ramp where no one would see him. The walk wasn't too difficult, the wounds having finally healed sufficiently, and a few minutes later he reached the Governor's Quarters from the rarely used maintenance entrance.

"Governor, your arrival is timely," the Security Computer observed, black signature patterns rising from the multicolored flux to dominate the central monitor screen. "There are unexplained vibrations beneath Cauchy. Perhaps the Arikhan involved in drilling or mining. Defense should be advised."

"Maybe," Grey hedged, walking to the lone chair set before the monitors and taking a seat. First he isolated the com channel so none of the other computer systems could tap the line, then he reviewed the Security Computer's findings.

"It's not drilling," Grey decided.

"You can't know that," Security questioned.

"I'm an engineer. I know drilling registrations when I see them."

"We must assume the Arikhan are involved in activities contrary to our interests," Security estimated. "The new seekers promised by Colonel Kimura will be here in seven days. Suggest we organize a strike force."

"Negative. I'll investigate the situation myself and report back on what must be done," Grey replied, slowly rising from the chair. The wound in his side still hurt when he twisted. The muscles in his neck felt stiff where the fangs had cut muscle.

"You're in no condition to challenge the Arikhan. I'll inform Colonel Kimura to ready her squad."

"Archimedes 07-31-49."

The black signature patterns froze, the subcurrent stalled.

"All reports gathered in the last twenty-four hours will be held in reserve for three days. Are my instructions understood?"

The black signature patterns vibrated in short, angry pulses as the computer fought the order, but the override was too strong. Grey tapped a confirmation code into the keyboard, increasing the Security Computer's frustration.

"Waters out," Grey concluded, causing the channel to clear.

Grey went through his study into the bedchamber where he had lived for the last sixteen years. There was Thomas McKinsey's oversize bed. The rotating closets. The improved facilities access. Grey remembered the day he had announced his intention to Life Support that he was taking up residence even though he hadn't asked for permission.

What an arrogant child I was, he thought. And little has changed. It would have been better if Security had killed me that night I wandered into the safety deposit area, or if I had died on TL-68 setting off the warheads. At least now I'll have a chance to do something right.

Grey took a hot shower in the hygiene compartment, the same shower he had shared with Catarina five years before. Only an hour before she was cut down in the Loop. He could still remember her smile, the long red hair and pink skin. The English spoken with an enticing Russian accent. Grey had not realized that Colonel Koltov was planning a secret attack on Security's Loop defenses, or that Catarina had been ordered to distract him. She had been successful, but the attack had failed. Failed as Grey would have predicted, had he suspected their intention. It made no difference. He had taken responsibility for their safety and they had died due to his negligence. It was another memory that seemed impossible to push aside.

By the time Grey returned to the monitor room, he no longer worried about past regrets. He rotated the closet in his equipment locker, found his favorite lightweight battle armor, and suited up with quick, practiced motions. He drew out two weapons, each fully charged, and an energy shield for defense. A glance at the clock told him the night cycle was beginning.

As the community level grew quiet, Grey hurried through the back corridors, went up to the reception area, and froze the cognitive interface on the Administration Computer before a protest could be entered.

Grey grew cautious as he approached landing bay major from the lower tunnel accessing 100W. Unlike the community level with its strict social programming, the landing bays operated twenty-four hours a day. The bays even had their own crew quarters and eating areas to support the graveyard shifts.

Landing bay major proved empty, the skeleton night crew working in landing bay minor in anticipation of the next cargo ship from Earth. Grey enjoyed the stillness of the vast open hangar. For a moment, it reminded him of his youth when he had spent entire days performing maintenance on the hoppers with only a few voiceless ground crew units for company. Before humans had shown up to ruin his life.

No, Grey quickly admitted to himself. The humans had not ruined his life. He thought of the first time he had seen Kris on the bay's upper walkway. How his heart had beat with excitement. He remembered waking up after the battle with the seekers to find Tamera watching over him, the hate she had felt turned to love. The smile on Nick's face the first time they shook hands and knew they would be friends forever. And the time Ted had dared to play a practical joke on him, a gesture of welcome to the human race. They were good memories.

This isn't about the humans, Grey realized. It's about me.

Groundhog was standing by in the flight circle, the mineral hopper kept on ready for emergencies. Grey slipped into the side hatch, crawled up to the cockpit, and began the launch procedure.

"Excuse me, Governor Waters, but what are you doing?" the Flight Control Computer suddenly asked.

"Requesting flight clearance," Grey replied.

"Destination?" Flight Control asked.

"The Space Heroes Monument. To lay a wreath at Glenda Blout's marker."

This was a request the computer could hardly ignore. Not without specific instructions from Defense or Security.

"Acknowledged," the Flight Computer agreed, ordering the hopper drawn into the elevator airlock. Grey sighed with quiet relief. Though he had an override code ready, he didn't want to use it more than necessary. The computers had enough challenges without someone sabotaging their primary programming.

The hopper rose up through the airlocks and rolled out on the launch tracks, leaping into the lunar void with a push of thruster jets. Grey took manual control of the craft and steered southwest, heading toward the Space Heroes Monument overlooking the Apollo 11 Museum. His explanation for the flight had not been entirely false, for he had every intention of visiting Glenda's recently installed plaque before taking on the Arikhan.

__________

"Look, Charleen, it works great," Nicholas boasted, standing in the rehabilitation center without help.

"Nick, there's hardly any gravity here. You could stand on two greasy peg-legs if you wanted to," Doctor Gately explained. "We've got to get you walking weighted like you would on Earth."

"It is still a good fit. Very comfortable," Nick insisted with a grin, tapping the artificial left leg. He could even sense it, the nerve endings sending a signal.

"It's good you didn't lose your short leg or your girlfriend would be date-bait," Ted teased, leaning against a wall.

"Not that a beanpole like you would ever have a chance with her," Lisa replied, standing in the doorway.

Johnston, Michiko and Doctor Gately laughed, for all believed it was true. Everyone knew who Tamera would choose if it wasn't Nicholas.

The mood in the medical center was relaxed, all pleased that the life-threatening infection that had nearly killed Nicholas was finally defeated. And his balance on the prosthesis seemed better than anyone could hope for, though Gately was right about the lunar gravity being a factor.

"What's so funny?" Tamera asked, entering from the hall.

"Just teasing Captain Long John," Ted said.

"Who?" Tamera asked.

"Long John Silver. The pirate in Treasure Island," Michiko explained.

Tamera smiled, reassured to find Nicholas joking with his friends. He will need such good spirits, she thought.

"I must speak with Nicholas alone," Tamera requested, trying hard not to sound worried.

The other five people in the room began to file out, each casting a lusty smile in Nicholas' direction.

"Don't hurt that leg," Ted cautioned.

"It is a composite leg. It will not break," Nicholas responded.

"That's not the leg he's talking about," Lisa giggled.

"Where is Grey? He promised to come," Nicholas asked the moment he and Tamera were alone.

"He's gone, Nick," Tamera revealed.

"Do you know where? Sometimes Grey likes to sit in the Hexagon Tower and look at Earth."

"No, he's really gone. He took a hopper and left the colony a few hours ago," Tamera explained, no longer hiding the apprehension she felt.

"That is strange. "Does Security have him on tracking?"

"Security didn't even know. I think Grey froze it with some kind of code. But Flight Control has a log entry for the Space Heroes Monument."

"Grey has only visited me once since the battle, and he hardly said a word. Michiko says he has not been keeping up with the export reports, and Johnston said he has been signing off the maintenance logs without reading them. I have known him to be angry, and sullen, and stubborn beyond understanding, but I have never known him to neglect duties."

"He wouldn't. Grey could never do that," Tamera concurred.

"But we know he has. Even Ted says so," Nicholas disagreed.

"There can only be one explanation. Grey doesn't feel they're his duties anymore," Tamera guessed.

Nicholas got up from the stool and limped to the massage bench where he could sit more comfortably.

"We should have seen this. How could we be his best friends but understand so little?"

"What have we not seen?"

"During the United Alliance invasion, Grey made no effort to make friends, even though he risked his life to save four dozen people. He did not do it for gratitude. And at Christmas, when he was preparing to challenge the crystal entity, he deliberately alienated Kris and everyone else. He often seeks to cut people off when preparing to do something dangerous."

"He must be planning something like that now."

"Do you know of anything unusual occurring?" Nicholas asked.

"No, but I'm going after him," Tamera decided.

"I think you must," Nicholas agreed.

"What should I do when I find him?"

"Grey is troubled now. He is not like us. He sees great things but not the small truths that give us strength. If you find him, you must be his strength. Whatever it requires."

"He's hard to reach during his dark moods."

"If Kris were here, she could break through. Only someone who loves him can. And he knows you love him, does he not?"

"Not as I love you," Tamera replied.

"But it is still love, and a strong one," Nicholas persisted. "Maybe I should be jealous. Maybe I am. But he was willing to die for you, and he was willing to die for me. It becomes our duty to help him if we can."

"I think you are trying to tell me something."

"No, I am trying not to."

__________

"Still no answer from Tranquility?" Rymae asked, entering Kris's quarters at Point Mugu and sitting on the bed.

"Nothing yet. You'd think they've gone to a war footing with all the extra security," Kris said.

"War?" Rymae asked. "With who? Not us."

"It's just an expression," Kris replied, sorry to have said too much. "Got those scores for me?"

"Yeah. Good, too," Rymae said. "Looks like we've got four teams that can go the distance. And the Mud-Hens aren't going with their best. Rumor has it they've been pulled out for special training."

"Already?" Kris quest in surprise.

"Already? Kris, are you flying under the radar?"

"Everyone knows High Command is forming a new unit. I just thought they'd wait until after the games," Kris explained.

"So it's true, then? High Command is recruiting space rangers and the Mud-Hens are getting first shot?! That sucks!" Rymae shouted. "It should be us. We've got the best. What makes the fucking army better than we are? Hell, we've got you and Commander Sheppard. They don't come better than that!"

Kris had to smile.

"And with your connections on the moon, we should really get an edge," Rymae added. "Did you talk to Governor Waters about it?"

"No, com hasn't been too good lately," Kris answered.

"Not even for you?" Rymae asked in astonishment.

"It's complicated."

"Come on, Kris, it can't be that complicated. You've served there. You've got history."

"Yeah, I do, don't I? And I know someone who can get me a line. General Larson is at Edwards inspecting the new Army Lifter. Think I'll go see him."

"Larson? General Wes Larson?" Rymae asked.

"Yeah, that's the one," Kris confirmed.

"Going to miss drill?"

"I'll borrow a seagull. It's only a twenty-minute flight," Kris mentioned, finding Rymae shocked.

"Kris, are you Secret Watch?"

"Secret Watch? No! Jesus Mohammed King, why would you say that?"

"Last I heard, junior officers don't go calling on generals just because they want a vid line to their boyfriends, and only admirals grab seagulls for personal use. You've got to have skybird clearance to fly that territory."

Kris paused, sensing an uncomfortable truth in Rymae's observation. Dwelling back over the last few months, she thought of the many privileges she had been receiving. Privileges she had simply taken for granted.

"Damn, that's funny," Kris said, almost to herself.

"Going to explain?"

"The last two years, I've been so many places, met so many important people, and had so many important people anxious to meet me, guess I've just gotten used to high plaining. I'd better ask permission before showing up on Larson's doorstep."

"Do you think he could help? They say getting through to Tranquility is hard even for High Command."

"I'm not sure. I'm not sure of too much of anything right now," Kris admitted. "Sash training has been more fun than I ever expected, and the Navy has treated me great, but I should have been on that shuttle with Grey. All the clues were there that something was up, but I wasn't paying attention."

"Is that why he took sail on you? Knowing there was danger on the moon? Kris, that is so romantic!"

"Romantic?"

"Don't you get it? I bet when he saw you with Shep, he thought you'd be happier here. And safer. He must love you so much."

Kris sat down on her bunk, a deep sigh slowly escaping, then she turned to look out the window. She'd been given excellent quarters, larger than most junior officers, with a good view of the training fields and the mountains beyond the highway.

"I didn't see that coming, but it makes sense. It's just the kind of crap he'd pull."

"You and Shep have been tight ever since that night on the beach, and he'd do spirals for you," Rymae said.

"I like Ricky, but I love Grey. I love him like no one else. Guess I kind of lost track of that."

"Maybe that's what he wanted, Kris," Rymae hinted. "Grey... can I call him Grey? If Grey wants the best for you, and if what he does is dangerous, it's only natural he would push you away. Wouldn't you do the same?"

"I've pushed people away. I did it for years, Rymae, and all it did was make me lonely and angry. I deserved better. Grey deserves better, too. High-plainer or not, I'm still going to have that talk with Larson."

__________

Grey landed Groundhog near the Crystal Caves Tourist Center above the Cauchy fault. He did not enter the center. There was nothing there he wanted to see. He climbed out through the cargo hatch, took a long look at the star-studded void above him, then pulled out a duffel bag of weapons and started down the trail into the canyon.

He had walked the trail many times now. Grey wasn't sure if he'd ever walk it again, but that didn't matter. He had a goal. A purpose.

After climbing over the rubble blocking the western fork, Grey began bouncing faster as he approached Cauchy's north wall. The crater loomed taller as the canyon dipped deeper until the sunlight had nearly disappeared. A tunnel appeared on his right, hardly more than a dark niche in the rock wall, and he immediately entered, descending in steady bounds until reaching the ancient airlock hundreds of meters below the lunar surface. In the past, the Quexelian defenses would have hidden the tunnel. Disguised the entrance. But their tricks were gone now.

Within the small confines of the airlock, Grey began to arm, strapping the oval presentation plate of his energy shield to his left forearm, then connecting the converter cables from his recharger for power. He had two Marsden laser blasters holstered on his hips, each rigged for double charges. The firing mechanisms would foul after the first few shots but have twice the effectiveness. There was a Remington 4-0-4 tucked in his belt, and if he needed it, a knife in the boot. A string of jammers hung from his belt ready to distort the enemy's visual sensors and disrupt communications. His armor would let him close to point-blank range if he moved fast enough.

The airlock opened and Grey charged forward, activating the energy shield while drawing the wide beam 4-0-4 with his right hand. The vast cave was not lit by the bright sustained flares as it had been on his last visit, but by a dim light shining from the apex of the roof, bathing the perimeter in deep shadows.

Grey twirled and danced evasively, searching in every direction for the enemy, then slowed as he reached a crater in the middle of the cavern. The Arikhan campsite was gone, as was the equipment. Grey stopped at the edge of the pit, then opened his visor to visually scan the cavern.

Nearby, he found several crates stolen from the tourist center, a few human tools, and some broken china that had been abandoned. Otherwise, the cavern was empty.

Grey sat on a crate with a sigh. The Defense Computer had speculated that the Arikhan had fled the moon shortly after the battle. Now he realized it was true. There was no one left to fight. No purpose to his mission. No method of finding redemption.

What I fool I've been, he thought.

After dropping the 4-0-4 and energy shield in a pile near the stolen crates, Grey loosened the armor and tried to think of what to do next. He kicked at loose chunks of crystal lying on the floor, considered performing a survey, but soon abandoned the idea. He felt like crying and cursed himself for such weak thoughts.

What now? he wondered. Go back to Tranquility where he was an obstacle to the new regime? Pretend to be a leader that no one needed? Be the puppet governor the computers had always wanted?

"I wish I'd died fighting the sentinel class seekers. Or the Arikhan. Why did I survive only to grow useless?" Grey whispered to the empty crater the Quexelian spaceship had once occupied.

"Are you useless?" a voice said from the pit, a deep growl that reverberated throughout the cavern.

Startled, Grey dove to the ground and drew one of the Marsdens, but he quickly realized it wasn't an Arikhan voice. It was a Quexelian echo, possibly Stirwin, the trio's administrator.

"What are you doing here?" Grey asked.

"We are not here, son of Crystal Waters. Our ship approaches the edge of your solar system and will soon disappear into the void. We remain within range of our crystal formations but a few more days," Stirwin explained.

"Did you cause the disturbance that drew me here? For what purpose?" Grey inquired, frustrated to find the Quexelians still meddling in his affairs.

"Do not be angry, Grey Waters Governor of the Moon," a more female voice said. Grey immediately recognized Roman, who he had once known only as Red Room. The healer. "I was able to detect your distress while you lay close to death. Your pain could not be ignored."

"I don't need your help. And I don't want it. I've never needed anybody," Grey insisted.

"This is not true, nor is it your choice," Roman disagreed. "I would pose a question, just as we posed such questions to your ancestors in the ancient times. They thought us gods. You know better, but the journey will be just as real."

"I've had enough of your stupid tricks. Go back to Quexel and hide from the Arikhan. That's what you're best at," Grey sneered.

"You made a promise, Grey Waters," the third entity intervened. "You swore that Earth would resist our enemies. Our departure was conditional on your word."

"Earth will resist, Quexitor, and you left because I kicked your ass out of here. Tranquility has a garrison now. We have sentinel class seekers, refurbished warheads for our missiles, and a new generation of satellites protecting our space. The Earth alliances are in full mobilization. When the invaders get here, they'll find a united planet standing tall in their path."

Even as Grey said it, he felt the doubts. Knew he was exaggerating. Had he actually been in Quexitor's presence, rather than addressing a dark hole in the ground, he might have hesitated to be so bold.

"The youngling does not bluff so well as in the past," Stirwin observed.

"His spirit is weak. This may be amended," Roman suggested.

"Is this the path you wish to take?" Quexitor asked.

"I don't want anything from you. I don't want anything from anyone!" Grey shouted.

"My concerns are not addressed to you," Quexitor said. "Roman, what is your decision?"

"We will proceed, but admit the other first," Roman said. "In this manner judgments will be made and lessons learned."

Grey did not care for the way Roman expressed the decision, but hardly a moment later, he heard the sound of hopper jets from the large airlock in the roof. He looked up to see the prospector craft Eureka setting down on the opposite side of the pit. Before the vehicle even stopped moving, the canopy popped open.

"Grey! Grey, thank God I found you!" Tamera yelled, leaping from the cockpit wearing a flight suit.

Tamera skirted the hole and ran to give Grey a hug, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"We were so worried when you disappeared. Nick and I thought you might be doing something really stupid, like fighting the lizards by yourself."

"So you came here? To their lair?" Grey asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

"I had to take the chance, Grey," Tamera replied, sensing a mystery. "I found Groundhog parked near the tourist center and knew you'd be here. Maybe needing help. What choice did I have?"

"There are always choices," Grey pointed out.

"An appropriate observation for the occasion," Quexitor agreed.

Tamera drew the Khronix blaster holstered on her belt and crouched down, looking for the source of the strange voice.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Your question is unimportant, Tamera Kantanee," Roman said. "Grey embarks upon a dangerous journey. Will you join him or return to the safety of your colony? Decide now."

"I'll go with him," Tamera shouted to the cave without hesitation.

"Tamera, no. You don't know what you're agreeing to," Grey warned.

"It's the rocks again, isn't it? Playing tricks like the ones Kris talked about," Tamera realized. "Well, I don't care! Do you hear me? I don't care! I'll go with Grey wherever you take us, and we'll beat you! Beat you just like we always do!"

"This is a spirited female. I like her," Stirwin approved.

"A worthy companion for our purpose," Roman concurred.

"We will see if her spirit can match her boastfulness," Quexitor said.

Suddenly the reality of the cavern shifted. All became dim, then dark. Tamera groped for Grey's hand but soon the dark turned to a fuzzy, formless haze. A new shape took form, a broad green pasture under a deep blue sky. The air was fresh. Clean, not recycled. The temperature was pleasant.

"Gorby's Ghost! I'm naked!" Tamera exclaimed, crossing her arms over her bare chest.

Grey saw that it was true. Except for a thin strap of leather around her waist holding a primitive stone knife, Tamera showed nothing but pink flesh and auburn hair. He wasn't dressed much better, wearing a sparse fur wrap that looped over his left shoulder and went down to the top of his thighs. A leather sling hung from a belt tied around his waist. Like an ancient sheepherder.

"Grey, what's happened? Where are we?" Tamera asked, grabbing hold of his arm.

Grey studied the meadow, seeing a flock of birds, a herd of deer, and a multitude of tall grasses. Spying a creek, he followed it a short distance through a stand of trees, stopping at the top of a waterfall. Below them, a rugged valley held several ancient buildings made of marble and stone. One particular building was familiar.

"I know this place," Tamera realized. "It's Delphi. In Greece. But where's the town? The roads? Where are the tourists?"

"This isn't a real place. Not the way we understand it," Grey replied. "The Quexelians have accessed a different reality. One used to convey their messages. I've heard humans with exceptional gifts or strong drugs may also visit here. Quexitor even claimed an ability to hurt or kill those who aren't careful."

"If nothing else, I have a knife," Tamera boasted.

"Yes, and I have a sling. We're a very dangerous pair." He looked at Tamera, who grinned at his joke. Grey laughed.

"I saw that," Tamera squealed, popping up on the balls of her feet with excitement. "You've been so glum for so long. It's great to see you smile again."

"I'm not so glum," Grey disagreed.

"You've been the grim reaper incarnate since Glenda died. Everyone's been worried about you. Especially me."

Tamera moved closer, her face near Grey's. Her lips moist.

"You're a very attractive woman," Grey observed, unable to avoid her come-hither look.

"Do you want me?" Tamera asked, letting her arms drop to her side. She was all woman, hiding nothing.

"I've wanted you from the first moment we met," he admitted.

"Oh, God. That was in the tunnel after you rescued me from the Sharkov. I accused you of murdering Catarina."

"It wasn't true, so that part didn't bother me. What I saw was your courage. And that cute wrinkle in your nose when you're mad."

"You can have me, if you want me," Tamera offered, lowering her gaze.

Grey laughed again, which surprised her.

"No, I can't," he mumbled, raising her chin.

"Grey, I would do anything to have you back. Anything to..."

Grey took her in his arms to give her a deep, embracing hug, then kissed her ready lips, feeling her heat as she could feel his desire. He let her go just as quickly.

"Would having you bring me back to the human race, or take me farther away?" Grey asked. "Tammy, I appreciate the offer, but we both know you love Nick. And he's my friend."

"Nick thought... well, I thought so, too. You've been so remote. We could feel you slipping away."

"It's an intriguing cure, but you've made the wrong diagnosis," Grey responded

"What's the disease, then?" Tamera asked. "I've followed you to a potential Tammy-burger banquet, got dumped in ancient Greece, and now I'm trailing around after you through the woods in my birthday clothes. I deserve an explanation."

"I don't know why we're here," Grey confessed. "I don't know why the Quexelians are tampering with our minds, or drawing you in. I only know I came searching for the Arikhan. To kill them or die in the attempt, and I was looking forward to it. And I failed, just like I've failed at everything else."

"You, a failure? Grey, what planet have you been living on? Not Earth, because you'd have to be awful damn stupid to believe that."

"Another quality to add to my defects," Grey agreed without smiling.

Tamera studied his expression, sensing the doubt more clearly.

"You're such a dumb ass. You should have taken me when you had the chance, because you'll never get a chance like that again."

Tamera stepped up on her toes and kissed him with passion, gently rubbing against him so there could be no doubt what he had rejected. Then she pushed him back.

"Come on, we've got traveling to do," Tamera announced.

Short of breath, Grey recovered himself and raised his eyebrows with an unspoken question.

"Don't you get it, Grey? This is Delphi. You know, the Oracle of Delphi? The most important source of knowledge in the ancient world. The rocks sent you here to find answers, and they sent me to make you go. And you gave up this beautiful body and the best sex you ever had because you're a gallant silly fool," Tamera teased, her eyes twinkling.

"The fool part I get," Grey replied, unable to avoid looking at the seductive way Tamera was posing. "The rest doesn't make any sense."

Tamera took his hand and pointed down the cliff into the narrow valley.

"We're going down there, to the Temple of Apollo," she announced. "Whatever you're looking for, that's where we'll find it. Together."

Tamera tugged at Grey's hand, felt the reluctance, then tugged again, pulling him toward a well-worn path leading into the Pleistos Valley.

__________

The slopes on the south side of the Parnassus Mountains were steep but Tamera and Grey had no trouble reaching the hillsides where the temples lay.

"This feels so strange," Tamera said. "When I visited here as a little girl there was a town and roads. Old men selling pita bread."

"I see a goat," Grey mentioned.

"Speaking of which, how come you get a goat skin and I get nothing? That's not fair," Tamera pointed out.

"Kes once told me that experience with this reality is important. I've been here before, so my mind has created an image of my ancestors who lived in this era. Your self-image has reverted somewhat farther back."

"Can you help me make some clothes? Give me some of your thoughts or something?" Tamera asked.

"Probably," he answered.

"Okay, then! Do it!" she demanded.

"No, this is more fun," Grey responded with a chuckle.

"You are so mean!" she protested, covering up.

"I should have accepted your offer."

"You're just teasing me," she realized, letting him help her climb over a low stone wall. "Grey! Look! People!"

Grey saw a dozen humans grouped on the steps of a great temple. Some were men, others women, mostly old and none were dressed alike. Several of the oldest men looked like shamans from North America or the Far East. One of the women was dressed like a gypsy. Others seemed to be witch doctors or priests, except for one especially disheveled man who looked like a raving lunatic.

"This is really embarrassing," Tamera moaned, hands over her breasts and privates.

"Give me your hand," Grey instructed.

Tamera reached out, and the moment they touched, a plain white dress with a short skirt suddenly appeared on her.

"This is the best you could do? Sack cloth?" Tamera complained. But Grey knew by her quiet sigh that she was greatly relieved.

His own clothes had changed, too. The goatskin was gone, replaced by an old work suit he remembered discarding years before. It had been his favorite suit, a white cotton-canvas with numerous pockets for his tools and testing kits. He was pleased to see all the familiar stains were still there, and the worn boots were comfortable. A definite improvement from the sandals he'd worn climbing down the mountain.

They walked across a narrow branch of the valley seeing several old temples. The buildings looked aged but not derelict, a mixture of reality and legend.

"It's said there was no place like Delphi," Tamera remembered. "The oracle could read the past. See the future. Look into pilgrims' hearts."

"The Library Computer says the temple was prone to hallucinogenic vapors," Grey remembered. "The visions were probably drug induced."

"What are they doing?" Tamera asked, pointing at the strange people lingering on the steps of the temple.

"Maybe the same thing we are. Which temple is this?"

"Which? Grey, this is the Temple of Apollo! The holy of holies. Travelers came here from all over the world. And they still do."

"I don't see any tour buses," Grey remarked.

They climbed over another low wall and walked through scrubby grass toward the tall stone structure supported by weathered limestone pillars. The steps leading to the entrance were steep.

"Who are you?" the gypsy demanded, an old crone with a grumpy lilt to her voice. The outfit was more colorful than any of the others, though ill fitting. A large black crow sat patiently on her shoulder.

"I'm Tamera Kantanee," Tamera replied, offering a smile.

"And your angry companion? Who is he?" a more reserved shaman asked, a tall man dressed in drab robes.

"Cal," Grey answered, declining to elaborate.

Tamera looked at Grey in surprise. Many at Tranquility, particularly on the Governing Council, had heard rumors of the mysterious Cal, a ruthless mercenary engaged in controversial activities. Only now did she realize why no one had ever seen him.

"I am Bosh of Kaba. Here you meet Lokky, Farallas, and many others who seek the truth. How have you come so far?"

"None may approach the temple without practice in the mystic disciplines," the gypsy said. "This is no place for children."

"I don't see you going inside the temple," Grey said, noticing everyone but one old Chinese man lingering on the stone steps. The Chinese shaman stared down at them from the temple portico, a power in his black eyes that could be felt even from many yards away.

"None violate the temple without invitation, child," another old hag said, a miniature witch that Grey thought might have escaped from a bad Halloween vid. "Go back down the mountain where the other babies wait their turn. Go back before I curse you."

Grey went up several steps toward the group and stopped directly in front of the witch. She was a full head shorter and had to bend her neck back to see his face.

"Go ahead, curse me," Grey dared.

The witch started to protest, then stared deeply into the ferocious gray eyes. Tamera saw the witch recoil at what she saw there.

"Beware of the stranger," someone whispered, an old Indian that was backing down the steps. He was not the only one.

"I sense no power," a colleague disagreed.

"Mayhap retreats," the gypsy said, joining the withdrawal. Soon they were all leaving, some not even knowing why.

Grey and Tamera went the other direction, slowly climbing to the top step where the Chinese shaman waited for them. Tamera didn't think him merely old, but anciently old. Bald, wrinkled and wearing a shaggy brown robe, the shaman gazed at Grey with a mixture of curiosity and resentment.

"I am Shao," the old man said. Behind him, the columns of the temple rose to a great height. The temple itself had an intricately carved frieze over the entrance; warriors, weapons, horses. Gods and goddesses. Inside, below an open roof, they found a smoldering fire pit. But the closer Grey and Tamera approached, the larger the flames became. Grey didn't notice any wood or coals.

"I don't see any oracles," Tamera said.

"There are no priests. Only the Truth. Any who can read the fires will know that," Shao declared.

"I don't have time for lessons," Grey dismissed, edging closer to the pit while checking for unseen dangers.

"Your name is not Cal," Shao responded. "You are not a master of the arts. How have you come to be here?"

"Special invitation," Grey replied.

"Do not approach further," Shao warned, reaching to hold Grey back. "The gods are quick to burn those who defy them."

"Yes, I know," Grey acknowledged, trying to shake off the old man's grip. It was strong. Stronger than he ever would have imagined. The old man sensed Grey's determination and released him.

"Will you go, too?" Shao asked Tamera.

"I'm not afraid," Tamera answered.

"You should be," Shao challenged.

"You're wrong, old man," Tamera disagreed, making direct eye contact. "Grey's not like you. He's not like anyone. I'll follow him anywhere. And one day, you will, too. One day, the whole world will follow him."

Shao backed off.

"I understand now. Take care on your journey," Shao encouraged.

"Journey?" Tamera questioned.

"Young master, I will look for you in the winter at our monastery. Do not fail me," Shao instructed. Then the old man turned his back and walked down the steps alone.

"What's this about a journey?" Tamera asked.

"I think this temple is really a door. At least, I'm going to find out," Grey replied, approaching the fire pit even as bright red flames suddenly burst even taller. The shaman might be right, Tammy. Maybe you should wait here."

"Let's go. We have a journey," Tamera pressed. She took his hand, and together, they stepped up on the edge of the fire pit and jumped.

* * * * *

Coming up next, The Ghosts of Christmas Past