Stolen Dreams (28 page)

 

Beauty was on her knee, and there
was a
small pile of static papers on each side of her. As he watched, she
picked one up from the smaller pile on her left side, peeled a hair
off, inserted it in the microputer, pressed keys, then put the paper
and hair on her right side.

 

He
could think of two reasons for
her
not being asleep. One, she wasn't tired or satisfied enough. He knew
without a single doubt that wasn't the case. Thus, the second, more
troublesome reason remained. She had stayed awake on purpose—and put
him to sleep on purpose—in order to work without his
knowledge.            
 

 

Why
would she resort to being devious? He had no objection to her testing
the hair samples, and besides, the tests could have waited until she
returned to their own time.

 

There was only one answer. In
spite of all his warnings, she was still planning to stop Khameira's
ancestor from going to Earth.

 

It
seemed to him that after everything that had happened to them, she
would have been frightened enough to realize that she lacked the
experience to do anything on her own. But going off alone was
apparently what she was planning to do. Just in case he was wrong,
though, he decided to wait until she made a move to leave before
pouncing on her.

 

He could hardly believe how foolish and
stubborn
she could be! What if she had taken off and the fever struck again? How
could she place more importance on her search than on her own life?

 

That
question stopped him cold. How many times had he risked his life to
obtain one more piece of information? How many times had he been
frightened out of his wits and still pushed on toward a goal he'd set
for himself? Too many times to count.

 

Perhaps they were both
stubborn fools.

 

Or
was it that they simply had very strong convictions and the courage to
test them and persist despite enormous obstacles? Not long ago he had
thought they had nothing in common, but there seemed to be some
similarities after all.

 

Thinking of her secondary goal on this
venture, he recalled the conversation they'd had about their childhood
and realized that a common element existed there as well. She was
hoping to learn something that would erase the painful memories of her
past. He could have told her that nothing—no discovery,
no acclaim, no amount of running away— could change the past. One just
had to get on with one's life and let go of the memories. But he knew
that was a conclusion she would have to reach on her own.

 

He
watched
Shara test her last sample, then slowly set aside the microputer. Even
before her shoulders slumped and she covered her face with her hands,
he guessed that she had not found a match for Khameira. But as she
raised her head and looked to the stars, her expression of utter
desolation told him she also had not found a match for herself.

 

He
wanted to be furious with her for thinking she could deceive him. He
had been ready to lash out at her for using her body to disable him.
Instead he lifted a hand to her and gently said, "Come here, sweetling."

 

Her
dismay turned to surprise, then acceptance as she realized she had been
expecting him to awaken before she could take off. The relief she felt
had her wondering if she'd actually been counting on his interference
all along. Since he didn't appear to be angry, she assumed he hadn't
guessed her plans.

 

"I couldn't sleep," she said as she went to
his
side and lay back in his embrace. "So I thought I'd try to find my
ancestor among the samples. It wasn't there."

 

He waited for
her to
continue, to admit her deceit and beg his forgiveness, but when he saw
the dull shade of her eyes, his initial anger returned. In a flash, he
pushed her away from him. 'You're a lying witch. You were looking for
Khameira's ancestor and then you were going to leave me here while you
went to talk to the Tribunal. Weren't you?"

 

She did her best
to look indignant. "I do not intend to argue with you about this again." She moved
to get up, but he shoved her back down again. "Let me go!"

 

As
she squirmed to escape him, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them down
over her head while he secured the rest of her body with his. Looming
over her, he was determined to force his will on her. "Any fool could
figure out what you were planning. I was laying here, convincing myself
not to be angry with you. But I have every right to be angry.

 

"I've
explained in an intelligent manner the risks of altering history. You
know you lack the experience to handle a trip back to the city on your
own, and you know how dangerous it is for us to be separated with the
fever peaks getting closer all the time. I was even trying to be
understanding about the fact that you used my desire for you against
me. But I will not put up with your lying to me."

 

She opened
her
mouth to defend herself, but no words came. She was guilty as charged,
on every count. And it had all been for nothing. She wasn't ready to
give up, but she did owe him an apology. "I'm sorry."

 

He
frowned down at her. He was ready for an argument and she wasn't giving
him one. "Now what are you up to?"

 

She
shook her head. "Nothing. I was wrong to think I could go back into the
city without you. I was wrong to consider leaving you while the fever
is still with us." She hesitated, to make sure he could read the
honesty in her eyes. "But I'm not sorry I seduced you. I only regret
waiting so long."

 

With those words, he was back on the
storm-tossed
boat again. His mind was still poised for combat, but his body was
shaping itself for a more enjoyable
form of action. Rather than follow through with either, he released her
hands and shifted to her side. "What am I going to do with you?"

 

The
obvious answer could wait a few minutes. An idea was forming. "Take me
to Poseidon's commune?" she responded.

 

"Absolutely
not. Besides the fact that they sound even less friendly than Zeus's
people, their place will probably be overrun with security in the
morning. It's time to go home, Shara. Give it up."

 

"I can't,"
she
said, as if it were a perfectly reasonable explanation. "I'm too close
to an answer. I've eliminated one hundred eighty-three of the two
hundred twenty names on the exile list. Thirty-one of the names left
are among those Misha gave us as followers of Poseidon."

 

He
could admire the way her mind worked, but he had no intention of giving
in. "And what of the other six?"

 

"The odds are with Poseidon's
group."

 

"The
odds were with Zeus's group, too. But the odds don't matter. We're not
staying. You heard Misha. If he sees us again, he'll assume we
fabricated our story, and I don't trust him not to hand us up to better
himself."

 

"We could leave this time and hop back in again,
only head for Poseidon's commune instead."

 

"That
might have been a possibility if the tempo-meter could be accurately
programmed. But as it is, we could hop back in after we'd already
arrived the first time. Then there might be two sets of us to escape.
It could create a paradox that would disturb the natural flow of time.
We don't know enough about this to be sure. Besides, we barely survived this round. We might not be so lucky if we tried
again."

 

"But we'd know exactly what was coming."

 

He
shook his head. 'That's the problem. Knowing what was about to happen,
we might do something differently and thus change the outcome. Forget
it."

 

She twisted her mouth from side to side. There had to be
a way.
. . . "I've got it! We could go to where Poseidon and his followers
settled on Earth."

 

"I think you need sleep. You're not making
sense anymore."

 

"Think
of it, Gabriel. Atlantis! The lost continent about which so many Earth
legends were written. There are even fewer details about what happened
there after the exiles arrived than there were about the rebellion on
Norona." She could see temptation changing his features. "Imagine the
marvelous contribution you could make to the historical files."

 

"There's
no way we could get on board one of the ships leaving in two days. Not
only would we risk getting caught, but the trip took about seventy
years. The passengers were put in a state of suspended animation for
the journey and not all of them survived the process."

 

She
noted he
hadn't given her a flat refusal. "It would take a little doing, but
it's not impossible. First, we would go forward in time from here to
take a modern ship from Norona to Innerworld. Then we could
transmigrate to Outerworld, take a boat into the Atlantic Ocean to the
former location of Atlantis, then time-hop backward again."

 

He
was
back to looking skeptical, so she waved temptation a little harder.
"You would be able to learn the truth of what happened there firsthand.
A monograph on Atlantis's downfall would be sought after
by everyone, not just relegated to the files of academic libraries for
other historians to use for research." He gave her such an annoyed
look, she worried that she had gone too far. "I didn't mean that like
it sounded."

 

"Yes, you did. And it's true. You told me
yourself when we first met, you'd never heard of me."

 

"That's
right, partly because I had very little interest in history. But
Gabriel, your stories made history come alive for me. You could do that
for so many others if they only took the time to find out how
fascinating you make it. A text on Atlantis would attract people of all
ages; then, once they discovered your way of relating history, they'd
begin asking for more of your work."

 

He captured her chin and
turned
her face so that the moonlight shone on it. "You really believe that?"
he asked, in spite of the fact that her eye color told him she was
being sincere.

 

She took his hand and kissed the knuckles.
"Yes. And
I'm a very intelligent person . . . when a certain man isn't throwing
me off balance."

 

He turned her hand to return the kiss. "And I
suppose if I refuse to go along with this scheme, you've got another
one to spring on me."

 

"I'm not giving up this opportunity to
verify
my heritage, Gabriel, and even though we disagree about my mission, I
know I'm safer when I'm with you. I'd like you to come with me, but if
your answer is definitely no, then we can go forward, get treated for
the fever, and I'll take my chances on getting away again on my own."

 

There
seemed to be little possibility that she would get that chance, and yet
he knew if there was a way, she would find it. Knowing of her intention
to alter
history, he would have no choice but to follow her . . . again. Logic
had brought him right back to where this had all started.

 

"What
about the fever?" he asked, running a finger down her arm.

 

She
absently stroked his chest. "I was hoping to leave that detail up to
you. You have such a gift for planning."

 

He
ignored her sarcasm. "I suppose I'll think of something after we hop
forward." His hand skimmed down her back and rested on her hip. "Why
don't you get some sleep first?"

 

She eased her body closer to
his. "Does that mean you'll come with me?"

 

"Don't
pretend that you gave me any choice," he replied, trying to look stern,
but fighting a grin as she brought her leg over his. "You really should
take a nap."

 

"I will," she said with a secretive smile. "But
I'd
rest a lot better if we reduced the possibility of the fever striking
again in the next few hours." Her nails scraped down his abdomen and
found him terribly in need of treatment.

 

He was more than
happy to
administer the cure anytime she asked, but he let her take as long as
she wanted to prepare him for the ultimate service.

 

Shara felt
that
there was something very different about this coupling. If she didn't
know better, she would have described it as loving. There was no one
they needed to fool with a show of false affection. There was no fever
driving them. She wasn't doing this because she had an ulterior motive
or because she was grateful to him for saving her life.

 

She
was making love to him because it made he feel so good to give him pleasure . . . and because
she cared in spite of her wish not to.

 

Gabriel
sensed that something had changed. Her touch, her kiss, her body
absorbing his, all felt different somehow. This wasn't a simple
coupling between a man and a woman. What they were doing was much more
personal, and the way it made him feel was better than any discovery
he'd ever made. For the first time he could remember, he wanted to
share more of himself than just his body.

 

He did his best to
show
her what he was feeling, but it didn't seem to be enough. He wanted to
give her something more than a release, something that would let her
know he considered her very special. As his body made love to hers, he
removed the jammer from his ear and brought her fingers to his temple. I wanted to let you know how you make me feel.

 

Shara was
startled by
the suddenness of hearing his thoughts, but quickly relaxed and allowed
him to hear hers as well. Knowing how much he resented anyone in his
mind made his gift all the more precious. What a beautiful thing to do.
Thank you.

 

As their passion rose, she maintained her touch so
that
they were sharing every unbelievable feeling. Her pleasure doubled his
and fed back to her.

 

Suddenly, as they neared a release, they
were
struck by a sensation similar to a surge of electricity. The eerie
power held them captive as the ground beneath them trembled and a
golden glow surrounded their joined bodies. The urge to complete the
physical act they'd begun superseded any fear of what was happening.