Seven Point Eight (40 page)

After a moment of silence, she announced, “I visited the red planet.”

 
“This is the most ground breaking OOBE so far,” Paul commented. “I’m…in awe.”

“It was lonely,” she said quite flatly, trying to recover her composure.

“What did you see?”

Drawing from her initial thoughts, she replied, “Something so extraordinarily alien. I’ve never experienced such a sense of desolation.”

“Was it beautiful?”

“I don’t think beautiful is the word but it was vivid, a very lucid experience…a little unsettling though.”

Her inability to express the experience fully and share it with Paul disappointed her. Some reconnaissance service she offered.

“Okay, we’re going to need to record this in the OOBE diary. Detailed accounts will ensure we get funded in excess of twelve months. Do you think you can put your experience into words?”

She nodded and Paul grabbed a journal, in which he began to scribble whatever issued from her lips. Eventually, she gave precise details about the landscape, the view from orbit, and her overall journey.

“This is excellent,” he commented. “I’ve identified an artist who can produce some sketches based on your descriptions.”

Her account wouldn’t be corroborated until a spacecraft landed on Mars, but for the time being he believed her without doubt.

“Where next?” she queried.

“Well…our next trip is scheduled around Valentine’s Day. I thought a visit to the Goddess of Love should be the next destination. Tahra, I want you to remote view Venus.”

***

A conflict of heart tainted Valentine’s Day. He felt obliged to spend the day with Eleanor, yet he really wanted to work on the project with Tahra. With a dream to pursue and a vision to turn to reality, he found the whole process of discovery addictive. However, the nature of the day implied he needed to do something romantic. In the dichotomy of relationships and objectives, the project won.

Neither Paul nor Tahra mentioned the theme of the day, despite Venus being the destination. Everyone had preconceptions about the planet, yet no one had pierced the veil of dense cloud that covered the planet. Paul considered it essential to check out the neighbours first before exploring the rest of the street.

“What can I expect?” Tahra queried, easing into the hot seat once more.

“Well, it’s closer to the Sun, which means hotter surface temperatures and therefore, it’s not a likely target for future colonisation. No probe has been sent to land there by either the Soviets or Americans to date, although the American probe Mariner 2 made a flyby in December 1962.”

“What else do you know about it?”

“The ancients regarded it as the planet of love and beauty, due to it being the brightest planet in the sky. Some more ancient texts refer to it as Lucifer, light of the morning.”

She nodded, adjusted herself for comfortable and closed her eyes.

Goddess of Love and Beauty, I can’t wait to see your magnificence.

Once she had her bearings, provided by Paul’s map of the constellations with Venus’s current position marked from the Earth’s perspective, she allowed her consciousness to issue from a point between her brows. Bolstered by Paul’s faith in her, she visualised her intended destination, using the constellations.

The planet loomed into view, a yellow-orange orb that lacked the vivid canvas of Earth. It didn’t match her expectations in that respect, and she wondered if what lay beneath equalled beauty. She pushed her consciousness through the dense, choking clouds which seemed quite acrid, even though she didn’t breathe its atmosphere.
 

Tahra discovered a world that suggested not heaven, but its antithesis. It felt turbulent, oppressive, and desolate. If she were in her physical body, the atmospheric pressure would crush her and she sensed a force trying to intrude on her senses. Winds howled around her, and although she couldn’t actually hear it, she felt something quite violent attempting to subdue her into submission. The sight of the clouds blowing above at a fierce pace gave her a perception of movement.

A sea of lava advanced beneath her, like some latent inferno or an advancing army of molten rock. She looked around and realised Venus had a volcanic environment, quite mountainous in places with dark soil, topped with a virulent atmosphere.

Oh Venus, you’re no vision of love and beauty, you’re a picture of hell, without the demons and eternal damnation.

You’re no goddess; you’re a bitch, a psychotic, fiery virago that will consume anyone who even attempts to touch you.

You must have inspired the Catholic’s notion of purgatory.

She didn’t like this world, so Tahra gritted her teeth, opened her eyes and jolted back into her body.

“I don’t have to return there, do I?” she asked,

“Well…unless I need to verify the reliability of your journeys. Was Venus so terrible?”

Tahra sighed, feeling drained and because she looked tired, Paul put his arms around her without thinking. Taken by surprise, she didn’t resist as no man had comforted her or given affection since Max. The Goddess of Love might have decided to bless her after all.

“I’m so proud of you and what you’ve achieved so far,” he told her.

Without considering the message he communicated to her, Paul brushed the hair away from her face. Without thinking of the consequences, she leaned close and kissed him as a lover would do. Without resistance, he reciprocated.

She broke away and looked at him, wondering whether or not to take the situation further. The time they’d spent together on a shared passion, this mutual vision brought dividends. Surely he must realise that the relationship needed to become more than professional, it had a life and momentum of its own, no matter the consequences. Would they regret it, or would they be perfectly matched? What about Eleanor? Yes, what about Eleanor?

Tahra threw caution to the wind. Paul was the man for her, not Max. Destiny had offered her a man of kindness, warmth, passion, with a desire to share his life and work. He didn’t hide anything and possessed charisma to compliment his intelligence. It was now or never.

“I want you to make love to me,” she declared.

Paul stopped dead, his admiration for her clear to see, but he didn’t know what to say. Did he regret reciprocating that kiss, and did he want to take things further? Tahra placed her hands on his chest and looked into his eyes, still aiming to persuade.

“I want you to be my first lover,” she continued. “I’m still a virgin, you know.”

He took hold of her hands and she felt a fleeting hope that he’d accept the offer but he didn’t reciprocate, he merely released her hands and stroked her face.

“I’m sorry, Tahra. It’s not you, it’s the situation. I can’t do this to Eleanor.”

She lowered her eyes, aware of the sinking feeling in her heart and the error of judgement she’d just made. His respect for ethics and his strong principles only made her value him more, despite the refusal. Looking regretful, he turned his attention to his journal, although he just held it in his hands and closed his eyes. What thoughts ran through his mind?

Instead of giving up hope, Tahra decided next time she’d just have to try harder and unleash her talents upon him. He carried some kind of torch for her, and wasn’t a lost cause in the slightest. It was simply a matter of time before she got what she wanted.

***

Paul returned home wondering what it would have been like to accept her enticing offer. She exuded a sensuality and drive that Eleanor didn’t possess. However, they had to maintain a professional relationship, especially with the months of close contact that lay ahead. He sighed and collapsed into his favourite armchair, running his hands through his hair. It wouldn’t be the last time this opportunity would arise and he wondered if he’d hold out, or cave in to her seduction.

Tahra seemed too good to be true though, but she was true and he’d never, ever find another woman like her. Entering the kitchen, he found Eleanor preparing something to eat. At first, he didn’t meet her gaze and she immediately became a little suspicious. He wondered if Eleanor knew she was losing him, as the passion had gone and surely, she could see it in his eyes. He recognised that too, but the most disturbing fact was that he no longer cared it had gone.

***

Paul’s forty-fourth birthday passed with a whimper. He shut himself away in his study with a typewriter and Billie Holliday playing in the background, evading contact with the outside world. When he emerged late that night, Eleanor appeared weary, unable to understand why he’d wanted to spend his birthday alone and she received no explanation from him. The project consumed his passions in a way that she couldn’t, and no woman wanted to hear that. Tahra belonged in that sphere of interest, she didn’t, and he often looked forward to their meetings, despite the fact that Tahra was, actually, the cause of his relationship difficulties.

As Tahra bounced into The Establishment one morning late in February, Paul sat in his office with the radio on, typing up the day’s objectives. The Seekers sang ‘I’ll Never Find Another You’ in the background,
causing Paul and Tahra to exchange a shy but knowing glance.

“Where am I going today?” she enquired.

“I figured we’d try Mercury, the messenger in mythology and the closest planet to the sun. I’ve prepared the star map.”

“Okay. I’m going to attempt to deliver more running commentary this time, which may be a whole lot easier than recall afterwards. Sometimes, I feel like I’m struggling to describe it post-experience.”

She repeated the usual process, and focused on the object at the centre of the solar system, which would enable her to locate Mercury with greater ease. Unlike her previous journeys, the sun provided a magnificent spectacle and this luminous orb not only dwarfed her planetary target, it dominated her vision.

“Oh wow…” The words flowed from her mouth in a faint whisper at first. “Everything is just…fiery and golden. It’s the light of the heavens, the giver of life. I can completely understand why the ancients used to worship it.”

Paul barely heard her, but he reached for his journal and began to scribble furiously, watching her reactions intently.

“I don’t sense a masculine energy though…it’s like she’s a great mother…anything that gives life must surely be female…”

He surveyed Tahra’s face as she spoke, and almost felt envious of the blissful experience she’d been granted.

“I’m bedazzled… I just want to bathe in this light. Even though I can’t feel the intense heat, I know she can destroy me if she wishes.”

“Can you remote view the surface?” Paul asked, distracted from their real target, Mercury.

“I can try… Paul…the surface is like a fiery playground. I see flames leaping like…incendiary spirits. They project themselves high into the air and dance…they dance a blazing tango, almost as if they were living things…”

His pen hovered above the paper in his journal, aware how qualitative these journeys appeared. How would that sit with Max and the funding bodies, who probably wanted to number crunch data? Paul hoped it wouldn’t prove contentious.

“Can you describe the planet Mercury?” he asked, guiding the mission back to its primary objectives.

“It’s quite hard to pick out in all this radiance… I see a small rocky body, which has numerous craters. It feels…dry, arid, as if it has no real presence of its own.”

Tahra’s body jolted and she opened her eyes. Paul noted that she seemed to be genuinely affected by the trip.