"And you’d do anythin’ he ordered?"
She nodded.
"And why did you go lookin’ for the truth about what happened to him? Why did you keep lookin’ even when people started tryin’ to kill you?"
Nina ran the back of her hand over Trevor’s forehead, telling herself that she needed to check for a fever but knowing what she really wanted was to touch him.
"He…he went looking for me once. I still don’t know why. But I was lost and he came after me. Besides, he deserves better than ending up like this, betrayed by people he trusted."
"So let me get this straight: you respect him, you trust him, and you put your life on the line to find out what happened to him, huh?"
Nina had not considered it in such broad terms, but as the Old Man summarized she nodded in agreement. Her heart thumped harder.
"So now comes the 64-dollar question, missy. How far are you willin’ to go for him? You put your body in harm’s way, but can you offer more? How much are you willin’ to risk?"
How much?
Nina had spent her adult years risking life and limb in the National Guard, in the police force, in the post-Armageddon war. That had been easy. Her instincts, her abilities; they rose to equal the challenge of every fight. But her heart? Her soul? They remained safely locked away, touched only by the pangs of motherhood that had come with the adoption of Denise. A scratch on the surface but a far cry from full release. To Nina, emotions served only a hindrance.
Relationships? She dabbled, but never felt comfortable giving of herself.
Love? As a parent, she embraced the responsibility and the nurturing of Denise; a parent’s unique kind of love. But true love? Denise had been right; Nina knew nothing of real love.
Now the Old Man asked her to open herself to ease Trevor’s suffering. To lift a storm of emotional energy from his mind and make his pain hers. Certainly in that process some of her-that part hidden away-would be shared, too. She could think of nothing as intimate and, as far as her memories allowed, she could not recall ever letting anyone so close.
The idea scared her. She felt more willing to put her life on the line in battle than to put her heart on the line with another person.
What if he rejected her comfort? What if she lacked the compassion he needed? What if she dug deep into the middle of her soul and found nothing more than the same warrior who lived on the outside? What if she simply did not know how to love?
The Old Man said, "I can’t tell you what to do. And I understand if you go runnin’ off now and not give this a second thought. If I was you that’s exactly what I’d do, Hell yeah. Point being, you have to want to do it, missy. Not for the great ‘cause, not for your Emperor, but for Trevor…and for you."
Her hand left Trevor’s forehead, stroked along his right arm and under the quilt until her fingers found his. She held his hand. It felt cold and limp, but alive. "He’s in pain," she said. "Yep. That he is." "I’m afraid." "Everyone’s afraid." "I…I," Nina fought to stay in control. "Am I good enough? I…I don’t know if I’m what he needs. I don’t know…"
"He’s just a man. He’s done some pretty big stuff, sure, but no matter what I helped him with or what he had buried down in his genes, he’s just a man. Flesh and blood. Truth is, you exactly what he needs, Nina Forest. No one else. Just you."
The cabin grew quiet save for the crackle of logs in the fireplace.
Trevor’s eyes did not stir, but she felt his hand return her grasp, not tight but desperate as if searching for a life line. His cold palm began to warm from her grip; she felt a hint of strength in fingers that had been limp seconds before. All her doubt, all her questions evaporated.
"Yes. I’ll do it."
For him. For me.
For us.
The Old Man shuffled to a sitting position in front of the fireplace.
"Hold him good, now, deary. Like I said, I’m not really here. Not like you think, that is. But that don’t mean I don’t have a trick or two up my sleeve."
Nina sat on the floor, careful to keep Trevor’s hand in her own. She turned to the Old Man. He sat with his legs crossed and closed his eyes. She did the same.
"Now…you just sit still…probably going to feel a little buzz, hehe. But look, ain’t nothin’ here but the two of you…just the two of you…"
A feeling like static electricity built in the air above where their hands met, then spread up her arm. Her skin tingled. She could sense the bridge growing.
An ache formed in the pit of her stomach. Her breath grew rapid but each gulp of oxygen failed to satisfy her lungs. She felt the pores on her neck drain sweat and her cheeks blushed with warmth. "What…what is…what are you doing?" The Old Man did not answer. "No… I’m not the person for this…"
She did not know why those words left her lips, but they came from a growing feeling of being trapped. Not in a cell or a room, but something else.
"I can’t do this! I can’t do this!"
Her voice quivered and the strength that had carried her into battle after battle eroded. Shadows and phantoms moved in the darkness behind her closed eyes. Giant shapes, much larger than she. Towering above. Pressing down.
"Not me! Not me!"
Her head swayed. Her eyes shut tight. Her hand squeezed Trevor’s harder and he responded in kind.
A flood of images broke through the dark. An eclectic collection that played as if it were a film, each frame a different picture. Cars and radios; a rich man staring out an office window. Helicopter control panels and technical schematics of all kinds. A soldier weaving through a dusty street firing a carbine. So many more that her mind’s eye could not keep pace. Her breath eased. Her lungs accepted the nourishment of each inhale. Her grip on his hand relaxed. Strength returned. She spoke, but did not know if the words belonged to her or Trevor. "I see…I know. I must do this. It is my responsibility." The flashing images slowed, allowing for better understanding.
An attack helicopter flying over a desert. A professor building a solar panel. An army marksman hitting a distant target. A farmer planting his crop. A carpenter building a home. She not only saw those images, but understood them as if she had done it all herself.
The picture show froze and faded, leaving the dark of her closed eyes again.
"What happened?"
The sweat on Nina’s neck chilled into droplets of ice. The blackness behind her eyes froze, becoming a wall of cold. More feelings came with that cold. Feelings of frustration; a frustration not unlike a parent dealing with children too young to understand.
"I don’t have time for this! There isn’t time!"
Nina’s face twisted. She bit her lip.
"Why won’t they listen? You don’t know-I know! I know! Too much is at stake! Too much for this! Just do as you’re told. Listen to me, damn it! Listen!"
She felt a sharp cold-ice-in her heart but at the center of it burned an ember of warmth.
"No…no…this can’t happen. No, this is not for me. It’s not right. I won’t give in."
Too late. The ice melted into a puddle and a speck of light glowed in the middle of the void. The ache in her stomach returned…but not so much a pain as a hunger. The light tried to take form. She could feel herself reaching for it, trying to touch.
"Can I? Is it allowed?"
The speck turned into a blob of golden rays shining comforting heat throughout. Her heart pounded faster and faster. Strength. So much strength. She felt…she felt invincible! As if muscles she never knew she possessed came alive with incredible power.
"You have made me stronger than ever!"
A welcoming, belonging feeling wrapped around Nina in a quilt of acceptance. She could feel that shapeless form lighting all of her; every dark corner and she accepted its searching glow willingly.