Microsoft Word - sk-ss-pdf.doc (17 page)

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Do you need help?" Caelan's voice.

"No," I said loudly. But the idea of spending who knows how many days with greasy, stringy unwashed hair and itchy scalp forced me to cave in quickly. "Yes," I said a moment later, sniffling. "Just a second." I knew Caelan better than any of them, so while I didn't want to need help at all, I'd rather it was him than one of the others who might try to drown me or something. I got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around me. "All right, you can come in." I wiped under my eyes with the edge of the towel.

The door opened, and Caelan stepped in. Suddenly the room seemed very small or he seemed huge, because I felt like I was standing too close to him, even though I hadn't moved. Perhaps it had something to do with him being dressed and me not having a stitch on under that towel. But to his credit, he kept his eyes on my face.

131

The Silver Spoon

"I want to wash my hair, but I can't...bend the right way." It sounded foolish, and I hated having to ask him for help. He stepped closer, and I skittered out of the way. But he didn't say anything about it. He went to the vanity and knelt before it, taking out more towels and a bottle of shampoo that I had forgotten to bring out.

"They keep it well-stocked here." I cringed. I sounded like an idiot.

"All of our homes are well-stocked," he said. But before I could ask him what he meant by that, he dropped a folded towel on the floor in front of the tub and gestured toward it "Sit." I knelt first, trying to keep my towel closed–it was worse than a hospital gown–and then I sat, my back pressed against the tub. He brought another towel and slid it behind my neck, protecting the bones from the harsh edge of the tub.

He turned the water on, and checked the temperature by sliding his hand through it. It seemed so human, so concerned, that it made me uncomfortable. I tugged my towel tighter around myself.

Caelan dried his hand on the third towel he'd brought over and then pulled his sweater off over his head, revealing a plain white cotton T-shirt, such a contrast to his dark skin. I knew that I'd seen him in less than this, but somehow seeing him take his clothes off in this situation affected me differently. For one thing he wasn't injured and bleeding and for another, did I mention I was naked under the towel?

He knelt beside me and slid his hand along the back of my neck. I immediately bobbed my head forward, so it wouldn't lay in the palm of his hand.

He arched an eyebrow at me. "If you want this, you must relax."

I sighed, then slowly let my head back down. After a few seconds, warm water coursed over my scalp and I closed my eyes 132

Stacey Klemstein

and shivered in delight, forgetting my discomfort. He soaked my hair until I could feel the weight of it pulling me back toward the tub, but he kept his hand at the base of my neck for support. Cold shampoo squirted out of the bottle and into my hair. I shivered again.

Opening my eyes, I watched his face as he worked the lather through my tangled hair. It was strange, he showed no sign of lust or hunger or even irritation at being asked to perform this highly personal task, just peace. The furrow in his brow had evened out, the color in his eyes was balanced between silver and brown, and his mouth was full and relaxed.

Without thinking, I reached a hand for that mouth. But then he said, "I would have translated the words for you." I dropped my hand back. "I know."

"But you did not trust me."

I sighed, the warm, easy feeling inside of me starting to fade. Did we have to have this conversation now? "You have different priorities than I do. I thought you might try to slant what I'd heard to support them."

He paused in pouring water over my hair to look down and meet my eyes. "My priority will always be you."

"The me from your vision, though," I pointed out. He nodded. "You are one and the same." That was his opinion. But I didn't want to get into that right now, not when I was feeling so relaxed for the first time in days, maybe years. "We'll see, I guess."

He nodded, leaning forward to squeeze the water from my hair, an act that brought his chest brushing lightly against me and his mouth inches from mine. Wanting surged inside me. Dazed by the close contact and not thinking too clearly, I let him see how I felt in my eyes, in the curve of my mouth.

But he turned away, bringing a towel to wrap around my hair, and disappointment settled hard over me. If I'd been a little more 133

The Silver Spoon

myself at that moment, I'd have been relieved, I think. He helped me to my feet, holding the towel around my hair with one hand and pulling me up with the other. That motion brought me against him, full body contact, intentional on his part, I was sure. But it felt so good, I didn't complain. He released my arm and leaned into me, his face just inches from mine. "My feelings for you are genuine," he said. Heated blood began to pound through me. He traced my collarbone with one finger, starting on the right side and sliding all the way across, just barely touching. "Your body recognizes it." My chest rose and fell rapidly beneath his touch. He dropped his finger down to the upper curve of my breast, just above the edge of the towel, where my heartbeat shook my whole body. "So does your heart." He lifted his eyes, the brown drowning out the silver, to meet mine.

"But your mind resists. That I cannot change." With that, he released me and walked out the door, closing it behind him, leaving me suddenly cold and shivering. 134

Stacey Klemstein

Chapter 13

I managed to get dressed in the clean clothes, a sweatshirt, Tshirt and jeans close to my size, and towel-dry my hair on my own. It took me longer than it should have, even considering my broken state. I think I was trying to delay the inevitable: facing Caelan again. But he was right outside waiting for me, his face as impassive as ever.

Before we left, I used the cell phone Caelan had left me to call Scott again. He didn't answer, but it was almost 10:30 on a school day, he probably had class. Or, he could have ignored me and flown home to Texas. So, I tried his cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail, which actually made me feel better. He'd have had it on if he were at home. He always had it on, except when he was at class. I'd have to try him again later. If I found out he went home even after I'd told him not to, I'd have to figure out a way to wring his neck long distance.

Caelan led me down the stairs and out of the lodge through the back door in the kitchen.

"So, where'd you get the money for this place?" I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of the leather jacket he'd handed me before we'd walked outside. "Or, did you just hand them a pile of old newspaper and make them think it was cash?" Hey, if I had their power, that's what I might have done.

He looked over his shoulder at me, frowning a bit. "This property is ours through a legitimate purchase." I looked back over my shoulder to the two-story structure, complete with wraparound deck on the back. It was probably a hundred thousand dollars, easy.

"Did you knock over a casino?" I was half-joking, but in a way, it would have made sense. It certainly would explain the 135

The Silver Spoon

house and his expensive little cell phone. Because it wasn't like they could work regular jobs or apply for a mortgage. But he could use that handy little mind-altering trick. It wasn't like anyone would expect the vault to be anything but full of money and empty of aliens. So, the guards would see only what they expected to see until Caelan was out the door, on his way to the high life. Instant super criminal, the likes of which would put Lex Luthor to shame.

"We learned quickly that currency is necessary for successful existence in your society. Without it, we were vulnerable, dependent on the kindness or foolishness of those we found." He shrugged. "So we gathered and sold what we had of value." I frowned, hurrying up so I was even with him. "What did you have that you could sell? It's not like you woke up with pockets full of jewels or moon rocks or something...." I trailed off, realization leaving me open-mouthed for a second. "You're the one."

He nodded.

About a year and a half ago, this guy from Minnesota, Rick Sutton, one of the few remaining dot com millionaires, claimed he'd found a large portion of a stasis tank, a relic from the Observers' journey to Earth. Because of the Observers' strict ban on sharing technology, he immediately became the center of media attention and controversy's latest darling.

Allegedly, stasis tanks were what allowed the Observers to make it to Earth. The length of the journey exceeded their normal life span, but these tanks essentially froze them in time, stopping all body functions until receiving a command to restart them. Our scientists had been playing around with this concept for a while for future use in our space program. But from what I'd read in
Time
, I think it was, they hadn't quite figured out the defrosting part–at least, not without melting the brain a little bit. Our development of this particular technology was hampered by the fact that no human had actually ever seen one of the tanks, which 136

Stacey Klemstein

was where Rick Sutton and his discovery came into play. Of course, the Observer Council released a statement denying Mr. Sutton's claim. But when tests were run, the compounds making up the fragment could not be identified against anything known on Earth.

About six weeks later, Rick Sutton disappeared. The official word was that the stress had gotten to him and he'd decided to take an unplanned vacation to get away from it. Most people thought he took an unplanned vacation from life instead. Of course, once he vanished, no one could find the tank remnant, if that's even what it had been to begin with. A search began almost immediately to find out where he had gotten the piece of whatever it was, but no one had been able to determine the original source. Until now.

"You know there's a lot of people looking for you because of that," I said.

He nodded. "It is unfortunate Mr. Sutton decided to release information about his purchase to the public. We warned him of the potential dangers."

"Apparently not well enough," I muttered.

"So how far away is this place?" I was falling behind again as I wasn't in the best condition for a long hike. The cold air made it hard to take deep breaths and lots of short shallow ones hurt my ribs just as much.

"It is not much farther," Caelan said over his shoulder, his breath clouding around his face.

That didn't seem likely. We were out in the middle of nowhere.

"The Chamber is underground, preventing any human attention."

"The Chamber?"

He turned then to look back at me. "I'm taking you to where we awakened here. We call it the Awakening Chamber, though 137

The Silver Spoon

that may not be its proper name."

The big white room that I'd seen in Asha's mind, the glass tubes. Stasis tanks, though she hadn't known the word for them then.

"Isn't it dangerous to have a hideout this close to where Nevan might look for you?" I asked.

"It is safer to hide where someone has already searched. And," he said, "Nevan does not search for us, we search for him. Therefore, our home is secure."

For now, I thought. Wait till Nevan changed his mind. We trudged on for a few more minutes before Caelan stopped in a clearing that featured one of those falling down barns that only remained standing because some toothpick-sized piece of wood refused to rot and fall away. He headed for what was once probably a door, though now there were holes of equal size in the wall on either side of it.

"You're kidding, right?" I hurried to catch up with him but stopped just before crossing the threshold, or what remained of it. Caelan went straight to one of the barn's corners and lifted up what appeared to be an old ceiling beam and set it aside. His eyes met mine as he pulled on a chain attached to a trapdoor in the floor. Metal grated against metal, and air whooshed out from somewhere.

I stepped forward, heart thudding hard in my chest. There was something much too familiar about this, like I'd seen this in a dream. I approached cautiously, expecting the building to collapse on my head and something horrible to come creeping out of that hole in the ground–a two for one deal.

"It is empty, I assure you." Caelan watched me with patience.

"We have been the only ones here for some time." I stopped a foot or so from the opening and craned my neck to peer in. I could just see the first couple steps of a ladder made out of a strange glass-like substance.

138

Stacey Klemstein

"It is safe, Zara." Caelan stepped around the metal cover he'd laid down. I came closer, reaching the edge of the hole, and looked down again. The warmer air brushed past my face as it rose toward whatever was left of the barn roof. The ladder led down into what seemed to be the beginning of a corridor. With the sunlight coming down through the barn roof, I could see the corridor walls were smooth white panels and the floor was a gleaming stream of glossy white tile.

Suddenly, an inexplicable wave of terror washed over me, and I stumbled back from the opening on trembling legs.

"Are you all right?" Caelan moved to my side. I pulled my inhaler from my pocket and used it in rapid succession. "Something very bad happened down there." I didn't even know how I knew it. There was just a horrible feeling spreading through me.

"We nearly died here," he said. "Almost suffocated." Then I remembered Asha breaking open the glass tank and releasing him. I looked back at him, raising my eyebrows. Being here didn't seem to bother him.

He was silent for a moment, then he said, "Once below ground, I have difficulty breathing at a normal rate. It feels as though there is not enough oxygen in the air, though I know that is not possible."

"It's claustrophobia," I told him. "A fear of being in confined spaces, like underground...or a little dark box." Yep, I had that too. I was a mental health professional's dream.

I sidled back over to the opening in the ground to stand next to Caelan. "I don't suppose you could just tell me what's down there." Tightness clutched at my chest just looking down into the darkness.