Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (74 page)

"You mean last night when she collapsed at the
hospital? Honey, you know Mark said she'd be fine, that she was just wiped out.
That thing she did, it had to have taken a lot out of her." He paused, and then
asked, "Or did you mean the thing with Margaret?"

Jessica rolled abruptly onto her stomach and
propped up on her elbows on the bed so she could look into his gold-flecked,
dark brown eyes. "John--either situation, and several others that have occurred
in the past week--for heaven's sake she was facing a woman pointing a gun at her
last night! And this thing she did with the healing. I wasn't there to bring
her back if she'd gotten lost again. Plus the way everyone treats her--holding
her in awe or something. Listening to every word she speaks like she is some
kind of--of--" She floundered helplessly searching for the right word.

"Prophet? Seer? Goddess? Shaman?" John
suggested.

"Any, all of them, maybe," his wife replied in a
frustrated tone. "And even leaving that topic alone for the moment--all the
changes she has gone through, the new abilities. How can we be sure she won't
be injured in some way by it in the end?"

John shook his head. "There's no way to know,
Jess. You know that. And even if we could see the future--something our daughter
seems able to do--even if we knew it would hurt her, how would we stop it? We
can't remove the abilities she has, we can't tell her to stop 'knowing' things,
stop dreaming, stop all the stuff she can do. It's not like we know how this
happened. Did the planet somehow choose her? And if so, why? Are there others
like her out there? Will everyone eventually be like her?"

"Yes, well, we know Margaret was like Sam, in
her abilities at least," Jessica retorted. "But look what happened to Margaret!
She went nuts, John."

"I don't know about that, hon. We have no idea
what her background was, what may have skewed her perception of the disasters
into the final interpretation she came up with, so we can't compare Sam to her."

Jessica got up abruptly from the bed and grabbed
her robe from the rocking chair. Belting it, she turned to face John again,
saying, "I do get that we can't change what's happened. It's just that Sam is
so little, so young...with so much responsibility. It's our job to look out for her,
and sometimes I'm not sure how to do that."

John began to reply, and then stopped as someone
knocked on the bedroom door. Swiftly pulling on a pair of old jeans and a
t-shirt, he called out, "Okay, come in."

He and Jessica were both a bit surprised to see
Mrs. Philpott come walking in with a tray of coffee and cinnamon rolls.
Perceval marched in behind her, tail moving languidly as he looked curiously
around the room.

"Good morning," Mrs. Philpott said, setting the
tray down on a writing desk in the corner. "I thought we should talk before the
crowd starts to gather."

"The crowd?" John asked blankly.

"Gather?" Jessica asked in dismay. "Oh, God,
what now?"

The Hospital

Lisanne sat up cross-legged on her hospital bed,
gently cradling Merlin in her arms. She sat facing the other bed in the room.
The bed where Andy lay sleeping--sleeping peacefully, without the aid of any
drugs, not unconscious, just asleep. Waldo was also sleeping, lying in a large
doggie bed someone had commandeered from the pet shop. Max, yes, that was who
brought it in late last night. The Labrador's left hind leg was bandaged and he'd
evidently benefitted somewhat from being part of the healing circle, but Doctor
Mark thought Clay might still have some work to do on Waldo. Good old Waldo,
she thought fondly. Waldo and Merlin had defended Andy and her yesterday in a
way that was staggering to Lisanne. These bonds between them, animal to human,
were so profound. Growing stronger every day too. She did wonder if this latest
incident would help Merlin look at Waldo in a kinder light. He seemed to have a
bit of prejudice against dogs. Ah, well.

She was imbued with a sense of blissful quiet
this morning. Yesterday--last night, had been so intense, chaotic, frightening,
and finally amazing. Today felt like a gift. She smiled as her eyes took in the
vase of gorgeous roses, in hues of deep pink, palest white, and buttery yellow.
Harmony brought them before heading home in the early morning hours. She'd said
to Lisanne, "Doesn't matter what kinds of healing Sam does, or how good a
surgeon Doc turned out to be. Everyone knows aromatherapy is a vital part of
the healing process. And you can't get better aroma than from these beauties
Mrs. P grows."

Lisanne thought bemusedly that Harmony was hard
to pin down when it came to figuring her out. She seemed like such a flake at
first. But as the night wore on, as others came and went, Harmony had stayed
quietly in Lisanne's room, keeping watch over her, over Merlin. Ready to get
anything asked for by Penny the nurse, or by Lisanne herself. Then about an
hour before she went home to sleep, Harmony had jumped up and said, "Of all the
stupid--why didn't I think of that earlier?" and departed in a whirl of long
skirts, bare feet, and golden blond curls energetically bouncing down her back.
When she returned with the flowers, Doctor Mark was in the room checking on
Andy. As he nodded approvingly at Harmony, Lisanne had seen the look exchanged
between them. Interesting vibes there. At any rate, she thought, Harmony would
be a fun person to get to know. Now that there was time, hopefully, to get to
know each other. All of them, all these strangers brought to safety in this one
place, now had time.

Lisanne found herself looking back, remembering
how empty her life had been, how aimless and almost desperate she was
before...well, before the end of the world. It seemed odd that in the
annihilation of civilization, in the obliteration of huge cities, in the wake
of monstrous disasters--yes, essentially the end of the world as she'd known it--that
in this time of death and loss, Lisanne had found hope again, found love, found
friends, found purpose, found...herself. It seemed odd, and almost perverse,
like she was benefitting from tragedy. Yet, what was it she and Andy decided
yesterday? They were going to live life fully in memory of those who were gone.

She lightly hugged Merlin, grateful beyond words
he was going to remain with her. The depth of her fear last night about
possibly losing him made her realize how strong their connection had grown.
After the healing of Andy, Mrs. Philpott came into her room with Perceval, and
proceeded to explain how Lisanne could help heal Merlin. Ha, Lisanne thought
this morning with a small laugh. Even the imperturbable Mrs. Philpott seemed to
have trouble coming up with the right words to describe what needed to be done.
Of course, they were still pretty blown away at that point, by the thing with
Andy. That whole braid of light, healing energy thing was seriously intense.
Lisanne, though, remembered about the headache in the Power Station the day
before, and with Perceval's promptings to, "OPEN YOUR MIND," and, "FEEL SAME
KIND OF ENERGY," the energy she'd just experienced with Andy, Lisanne was able
to find the right pathways. Yes, she thought, wonderingly, it really was like a
chart, a star chart or a map...and there were paths, lines almost that could be
seen, drawn between--what? Was it the consciousness of the Earth they were
drawing upon? Or some other type of energy contained in all living things? And
could it perhaps be measured in some way? Was it an amount that could be
drained or replenished, or was it an infinite sort of thing? And what if you
could harness that energy to--

Her thoughts were jerked back to the hospital
room as Andy moved and the crisp white sheets rustled on his bed. She saw his
eyes open, staring up at the ceiling, and then watched his gaze slowly move
around the room as he turned his head to finally come to rest on her. Deep blue
eyes, clear and focused and alert. In a face that was slightly wan, but still
healthy looking. Yes, this morning she was infinitely grateful. She saw his
lips forming a smile even as a questioning look appeared in his eyes.

"Hey, baby," he said to her. "I'm seriously
hoping my being in a hospital bed is not the result of our little adventure in
the shower. Because I'm not willing to give that up."

"The shower? Ohhhh," Lisanne responded,
remembering yesterday morning. Only yesterday morning? It seemed an eon ago,
she and Andy in the shower, having an exceedingly satisfying adventure. She
smiled. Doctor Mark had been right after all when he told her that Andy might
not remember the shooting yet. Thank goodness his first memory was of the two
of them together.

"Uh, no, darling, this didn't happen in the
shower. And I think we may just have many, many showers together in our future.
Thanks to Samantha and Waldo, and, well, really, thanks to everyone."

She carefully laid a still sleeping Merlin down
on her bed, then got up and walked over to Andy, noting the puzzlement
remaining on his face. His dear, handsome, strong face.

"No worries, I'll explain it all to you,
unbelievable as it is," she offered. "But first, I have a question for you. You
don't have to answer me right away, you can think it over, but I need to ask
you now, you know, while I'm feeling all brave and courageous and--" She
stopped, seeing one of his eyebrows arch.

"Okay, no preamble then. Get right to it." She
took a deep breath and blurted out, "Will you marry me?"

"Oh!" he said. Before he could open his mouth to
say anything else, she began speaking.

"Now, like I said, you can have time to think it
over, tons of time. I mean honestly, I know it's the end of the world and all
and evidently the start of a new one. Who knows if you might meet someone else
you'd want more, later on, someone better suited to you? Except that I think we
really are suited to each other, in a strange way, kind of an opposites attract
kind of way, maybe. Plus, you are just getting over being almost dead, and that
will take some adjustment probably, so really, you have all the time in the
world to think about your answer..." Her voice trailed to a stop as she heard
him laugh, a low, deep, warm laugh with a beaming smile. That laugh, that
smile--she felt tingly all over.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" he said, finally and
emphatically. "You are the most exasperating, crazy, wonderful, beautiful woman
I've ever met or am likely to meet. I love you with all my heart, Lisanne. To
marry you would be a miracle. Honestly."

She leaned close over him, bending down to kiss
him, just as he murmured thoughtfully, "I was almost dead?"

"Later, darling, we have all the time in the
world for trivia--later," she answered firmly.

The Samuels' House

Mrs. Philpott settled into the comfy armchair
upholstered in a dark green silk. The chair was part of a grouping near the
desk in the bedroom, and Perceval could be heard typing on his computer on top
of the desk, while John and Jessica sank into the love seat with the breakfast
tray on the coffee table before them. As Jessica sipped piping hot coffee, John
looked directly at the older woman and said, "Spill."

She looked at the couple before her, noticing
the dark circles under Jessica's vivid blue eyes, but also seeing that there
was strength in the gaze. John, as usual, seemed ready to tackle whatever the
problem was. Mrs. Philpott was gratified her instincts about them had been
right. He was going to be a great leader for their community. A community
facing one last crisis.

"It's Margaret," she began, and John groaned.
Jessica's face tightened, but she said nothing.

"Go on," John growled, grabbing a cinnamon roll
and taking a large bite.

"We all know Sam did something significant to
her last night when she stopped her at the Power Station. Perceval believes--hopes--Samantha
was able to disrupt enough of Margaret's link to the planet that she won't be
able to do the mind pressing thing any longer. However," she stopped and held
up a hand to ward off John's comments. He looked surprised and happy at her
surmise.

"However--she still has some connections left.
Meaning, she is able to communicate with some animals most likely. How much she
can know about people--that ability resembling reading someone's thoughts, which
Perceval says doesn't really describe it--how much she reads of people, well we
just don't know yet. What that means is she could still be a danger to us."

Jessica snapped, "Of course she's still a
danger! Good heavens, the woman held my daughter and husband at gunpoint last
night. She injured two people and two animals. And she--she--"

Mrs. Philpott sat quietly and waited as Jessica's
eyes filled with tears. John put an arm briefly around his wife and then
Jessica continued. "She caused enough chaos that Sam wasn't able to find my
mother in time. I know we will never be certain if Sam could have gotten us to
her in time. But my feeling is that she could. And if so, then Margaret is at
least indirectly responsible for my mother's death."

Perceval nodded his head. He'd stopped typing to
listen to Jessica speak.

Mrs. Philpott said, "I agree with you, Jessica.
I believe she is a danger we can't afford. The question then becomes--what the
hell do we do with her?"

She waited as the obvious answers came to John
and Jessica's minds and were rejected. They couldn't call the police--Black was
their head policeman now. There was no jail they could ship her off to. No,
there were only a couple of options open to them.

John said slowly, "There is a local jail here in
Cape Fair. I think it was mostly used for Saturday night drunks and the
occasional teenager caught drag racing out by the lake. But to keep her here in
town, locked up, for...how long? Forever?" He shook his head.

"There is another option," Mrs. Philpott
suggested. "One I'm not fond of, but it has to be discussed." She paused until
Perceval meowed at her to get on with it. "Okay, okay. We could have some sort
of trial and then use the death penalty. In other words, we could execute her.
Kill her."