PART 3
LOST IN THE EMPIRE
PART 3
Rachel shut off the engine to her car and paused a few minutes before opening her door to collect the bags of groceries she had purchased for Cort. And a small picnic for dinner, she thought, glancing over the fruit, cheese, deli meat and bread in one bag. She grabbed that and her keys and got out. She would return in a few minutes to fetch the rest, but for now, she wanted to set up some refreshment.
When Terry had released them, she and Cort had
wandered down to the main part of the complex, where Rachel decided to take him
on a cursory tour of Emerald City, eventually ending at her little office,
where she showed him the computer and piles of paper she had to deal with on a
daily basis. When that got old (which
didn’t take long, except for the computer, which Cort treated with some amount
of curiosity), she offered to take him around the city; but he got very quiet
and eventually requested going back to his house. It was then the subject of groceries came up
and Rachel offered to go stock up for him while he waited for her return.
The little blue house was dark, and the day fading
into an atmospheric twilight between the fragrant pines. The sound of a breeze through the tall canopy
refreshed her, but it troubled her a bit that the house itself was so
quiet. Surely Cort was around?
She found the front door unlocked and swung it
open. She would have started clicking
all the lights on except she caught the shadow-shape of a boot hanging off the
couch. Cort was laid out, apparently at
rest. Quietly, she set her keys and bag
down and tip-toed over to see if he was just dozing or fast asleep. She’d made enough noise to scare an elephant
coming in…maybe he heard her?
She knelt down beside him to see better in the growing
dark. She could just make out his face:
calm, dreaming. Beautiful.
She tucked her legs under her in a kneeling position
close to his head. She wanted to watch
him sleep, wonder what images were moving in his mind. But even that desire morphed into a fancy to
brush his cheek with her fingertips. He
was keeping himself shaved, but she did so miss the barely-there beard he had
been growing…before…when…
Her fingers moved to trace the line of his lips, the
memory of his kisses changing her fancies yet again, her blood quickening…not
yet…she wanted to finish watching him, gazing at him, until there was no more
light to see…
She traced the slight curve of an eyebrow, tucked a
stray strand of his hair away, and that gesture recalled an intense memory of
their first kiss. She let her arm curve
gently around his shoulder, hand cupping his head, resting her cheek on the
cushion next to his warm shoulder, settling into the peace of his repose. Here was home, here was love.
All of Deidre’s propriety and sensibility would have
been utterly lost in the way Terry rolled to bring her under him once more,
just the way he had on the mountain, had it not been for the legs of the table
they were halfway under. Terry’s foot
made a loud thwap! against the metal stand as he swung his leg to complete his
move, and Deidre found herself clutching his shoulders, shaking with
laughter. Terry joined in, although his
hands were still wrapped in her hair and she was pressing her cheek against
his.
“C’mon, luv,” he whispered. “Let’s leave this room. I’ve had to explain a lot of strange things
today, but I don’t want to have to explain why I am ravishing a beautiful thing
like you under a conference table. I can
think of more…comfortable places.”
With a giggle at his sly deferment, she released him
to stand. Both of them grinned as they
straightened their clothing, her hair, scattered chairs. A wonderful little silence fell between them
as he ran his fingers through his hair and finally pulled her back into his
arms.
“I didn’t even think to ask,” Terry said. “How were your accommodations last night?”
“Very nice!
Even if you had told me I couldn’t work here, I was tempted to try and
find a way to stay for a bit. The garden
tub is to die for,” she replied, relishing the way his eyelashes framed his
eyes, the masculine angle of his jaw-line.
“The suite is amazing, thank you,” she added. “I’ve never been treated so well.”
Unable to resist one last embrace, Terry swept her up
into another mind-numbing kiss. She
could feel the muscles of his shoulders through his shirt, the warm strength
flowing from him. From a movie,
huh? Not even in her most lucid
fantasies could she have dreamed of such a thing. As she watched Terry gather up his papers,
she felt what he had told her begin to sink in.
Was nothing impossible then?
NanoCorp, extractor of dreams, city of fantasies, company of extravagant
potential!
Can they even dye her eyes to match her gown? Jolly old town!
She took his arm and let him guide her on a tour of
the fourth floor, which held private offices for himself, Bud, Alicia, and the…nanocreature,
Mr. Big Himself, Sid. Judging by Terry’s
reticence when asked if she would meet him soon, Deidre got the idea that Sid
was not one of the more pleasant incarnations of his creator.
It was nigh on
Deidre lost track of the stoplights as she and Terry
chatted animatedly through each and every one of them. It was not as if she knew where she was going
anyway. It seemed a given that wherever
they ended up, the undercurrent of their passion in the conference room would
have its replay. Still, she was
(pleasantly) surprised to see Terry pull into the parking lot of a Thai
restaurant
“Thought we might have a bite to eat,” he said, as he
cut off the engine.
Oh Lord, was he gorgeous when he got all shy!
“When are we supposed to go on this big journey,
then?” She asked when the meal had been
consumed and most of the patrons filtered out until it was the two of them in
the darker corner of the restaurant.
Like the café in
For a moment, she thought she had crossed a line and
ruined the happy air that was circulating between them, for Terry’s face grew a
bit somber. He took her hand and began
to interweave his fingers with hers as he thought for a moment.
“There’s a bit more training to be done, I’m afraid,”
he said at last, just when Deidre was beginning to feel her limbs turn to soft
gel. “Rachel had been selected because
she was already experienced in some form of swordsmanship when she
applied. The only applicant who did,
actually. I’ve been working on it
myself, but have been so busy…damage control, sometimes,” he grimaced over some
private thought but shrugged it off, “and then there’s you and Cort. Think you might give it a go?”
“I’ve tried fencing once before,” Deidre replied,
smiling. “I’ll try.”
“To answer your question, it might take a week, it
might take a month. I mentioned there
were some…shakeups before you arrived that I had not been made aware of…hadn’t
been enough time really to do it properly…we’re having to rethink some
things. I’d like to wait until tomorrow
to explain in full. At this moment, I’m
more interested in being with you. Shall
we go?”
They held hands as Terry drove her back to the hotel,
a little less talkative now, more settling into a tentative peace. A crossroads moment was coming up for them,
and Deidre felt nervousness return.
Terry seemed to be affected by this as well, as he was quiet in opening
the car door for her and leading her to her suite.
She stood by the door, card-key in hand, mind racing
for something pithy to say. After a few
moments of awkward indecision, Terry stepped up to hover over her, placing
hands about her waist, head tilted in a query.
The kiss he gave her was not the same as those in the conference room;
more tender, more shy.
“I like you, Nolia,” he whispered.
“I like you, too, Terry,” she whispered back, trying
to remain still. She ran a hand up one
arm, caressing his shoulder. “Do you…do
you think…maybe…we should….wait…?” She
stammered, half of her hoping he would say no, the other half arguing that
better things were down the road if she but hold off. Standing over her as he did, Deidre could
feel warmth radiate from him.
Terry played with a loose strand of hair.
“I want to do what’s right,” he answered. “So much has happened….will happen. I…” he paused, blue-green eyes glancing away
in some far memory. “I don’t want to
confuse things even more.”
“A better day, then?”
She smiled up at him.
Another kiss.
“A better day,” he proposed, and took her card-key to
let her in.
^ * ^ * ^ * ^
He was walking in a grove of tall trees...trees like
he'd never seen before. The leaves were shaped oddly... like...like
perfect circles...and were the palest, translucent green. Lifting his
face, he looked up at them as he walked.
One by one, they loosened from their stems and began drifting down,
brushing past his face. He began a gradual
Eyes still closed, he whispered, "Hello, my
love."
She lifted her head. "I woke you."
He turned his face, the corners of his lips twitching
slightly. "In more ways than one." Sliding his hand
behind her head, he pulled her to him, kissing the line of her brow, then down
her nose.
Noticing the room was dark, he asked, "Is it
late? I didn't mean to sleep so long."
"I brought food," she said, "picnic
sorts of things. Would you like to eat
on the porch?"
Together they gathered a few dishes and took her sack of groceries out to a small wrought iron table. There was a bench and two chairs. He settled on the bench because there was room for her beside him. When she sat, her thigh against his, he gasped with the touch of it. "Ah, God, Rachel, " he sighed, "I can't do this."
Her lips parted in sudden alarm. "Can't do
what?"
"I can't...eat," he said. "All I want
is you." He stood, holding out his hand. "Come, walk with
me. If I don't move...I'll...well....come, walk with me."
He led her down the steps, past the azaleas, out under
the pines, their feet soundless on the thick carpet of long needles. They
walked in silence for a time, around and through the large grove. Coming
upon a clearing where the pines were further apart, the rising moon puddled
itself on soft grass, laying itself bare in silvered invitation. He
stopped, took off his jacket, and with a soft flap, lay it out in the middle of
the naked light. She sat, lowered by his hand like a chalice onto some
velveted cloth. He stood, backlit by the moonlight, and rolled his white
sleeves slowly before sitting on the grass beside her. The huge azaleas framed
the glade in two semi-circles, offering their protection. Taking her
hand, he lay back, just looking up, pressing her fingers to his chest, then
lifting, kissing each fingertip.
Peace. Peace like he'd never really known.
It lay upon him like the moonlight, just as intangible, just as present. If
this were all he ever had...this moment...what more could he think to ask
for. He let his mind roam where it willed, all the time holding her hands
close to his heart. Sid came to his thoughts, only briefly, only because
of the whole, new
"I love to watch the worlds wink into
view," he said. "I used to lie atop the haystacks on my Grandmother's
farm, watching them come, first one by one, then so many I couldn't count and
the universe was white with them. And I
learned in those long evenings there on the hay that if you truly love the
stars," he murmured, "it's hard to fear the night." He
turned a bit to his left so that he could see her clearly. Looking at
her, he sucked in a long, slow breath.
"I fear, though," he said, twining her curls around his
fingers, "that God has made you too beautiful, my Love. My
soul is all but out of me tonight."
He leaned forward, kissing her lips then running the
tip of his tongue over the moisture of hers. Pulling back just enough to
speak, he said, "I love you, my Rachel, with my breath,
She lay there, listening to his words, feeling
strangely like she had just been...wed. As she had. For he was
taking her to himself, joining her to himself, giving back to her
He touched her cheek with his fingers. "I
have felt...so often...like a road in the night, Rachel, and I lie there, open,
not knowing where I lead, and all I hear are the footfalls of my memories in
the silence. But, you, you come to me and I am filled with you,
"I asked to court you, meaning it, truly I meant
it, but as you lie there I have such a need for you that it becomes near more
than I can bear."
She smiled up at his face, so earnest, so beautiful in
the light. Then she took his hand and
placed it on her breast. His fingers curved, molding around it,
trembling. He looked into her eyes wonderingly and she nodded in
return. Slowly, delicately, as though it were some gift beyond measure,
he unbuttoned her blouse, sliding his warm fingers in under her bra. She
gasped at his touch, arching slightly, her body already straining toward his.
Then they lay together, entwined, and he watched the
play of the moonlight on her breasts until he had to...he must...let his lips
follow where the light had led. And he loved her again.
^ * ^ * ^ * ^
Out of the purpling darkness of the room, Cort’s voice
greeted her. He moved not a muscle, but
she could feel him turn all senses to her, his deep voice a soft caress.
“I woke you,” she whispered. But for her fingers, she had been as still as
marble herself until he spoke. Her blood
surged in response to his voice, a feverish sap. Is this what statues feel when they realize
they are flesh and bone?
“In more ways than one,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long,” he added
and shifted to rise at her suggestion of dinner on the porch. She showed him the food she brought, carried
in the rest of the groceries, while he gathered up plates to take to the
porch. She sat down next to him, unable
to see clearly in the lamp-less night, and her thigh brushed up against his.
“I can’t eat.
All I want is you,” he said, abruptly, and stood. “Come walk with me.”
She took his hand.
A blue-black shadow as he led her beneath the pines, through the maze of
blooming azaleas, past the stables into the deeper gloam of the woods. The moon was shifting from burnished gold
into hot silver, its glow hardening the stiff straight spires of the pines into
pillars upholding an endless cathedral ceiling.
Rachel began to wonder if the Elven music Tolkien wrote of in his books
and poems would begin to sound on the breeze.
He stopped in a clearing where the pattern of columns
was haphazard, less processional, as if the wilderness were forming an
enclosure no mere mortal could find.
Azalea turned their lily-blooms toward the spectral light of the moon,
their pinkness blanched to an ethereal luminescent gray. Cort chose a spot where the moon fell in full
force on a pad of thick grass, and unbuttoned his coat to spread out for her. He bade her lay back upon it.
Before he joined her, Cort paused to roll up his
sleeves. Rachel suppressed a low moan as
he unconsciously re-enacted the one moment that had won her heart. Unaware of
her emotion, his expression turned inward with the same prayerful aspect as
that day. She began to tremble.
Cort then lay down beside her, taking her fingers and
pressing their tips to his mouth. He
settled back to stillness, returning her hand to his chest. She could feel the simple metal cross he wore
through his shirt, a rapid heart beneath.
Her gaze moved down the length of his body, stretched out to bathe in
the moonlight, her small frame nestled against his; she lifted her eyes. Could he feel her shiver?
Rachel closed her eyes, hoping to steady her heart, keep her breath even…but it didn’t work, so she opened
them again to look at the skies. He was talking about the stars. She focused on the sprays and cascades
raining down upon their temple of shadows. A vague wave of vertigo came over her, and for a moment she
could almost see the drift of the night. She let her eyes trace the vague shapes of the constellations,
wondering what Cort saw, feeling he was leading her upwards. Instinctively, she clutched at him. The stars
would have to act as lodestones, she thought, else they would lose their way.
“…if you truly love the stars, it's hard to fear the night,” she heard him say. The shyest smile appeared and
he added to her dizziness with an exquisite kiss. She was now under his silvered gaze, green eyes turned a
color she couldn’t even define, filled with light. “I fear, though, that God has made you too beautiful, my Love.
My soul is all but out of me tonight."
“Wherever you go,” he whispered, when her stunned silence filled the space between them, “there I will go;
wherever you lie, there I will lie. Whatever may befall you, will befall me, too, for I will be at your side...
always. I will never leave you.” He locked eyes with her. “Never."
He paused for a moment, a timbre of entreaty changing his expression, his next words spilling from him as
though he was beyond himself.
“I asked to court you, meaning it, truly I meant it, but as you lie there I have such a need for you that it
becomes near more than I can bear.”
Rachel closed her eyes again, overcome momentarily by the sensation of ribbons breaking loose to entwine in
the air. The desire emanating from him was intense. Then, she found herself gazing back, an answer flowing down from the stars witnessing them, the same peace that had come over them in the phaeton outside of
Redemption.
She took his hand, his ordinary grace of a hand, and showed him that answer. He seemed to stop breathing
as she lay back to guide him; but moments later, with a new intake of breath, his lips claimed hers, eventually
drifting down to chase after his fingers.
Rachel followed the wandering example of his hands until they both lay skin upon skin in the moonlight.
Then…the star-sprays streamed.
PART 4