Return to Valjiir Stories
How the faces of love have changed
Turning the pages
And I have changed, oh, but you...
you remain ageless
I turned around
And the water was closing all around
Like a glove
Like the love that had finally, finally found me
Then I knew
In the crystalline knowledge of you
Drove me thru the mountains
Through the crystal-like clear water fountain
Drove me like a magnet
To the sea
Del could feel Pelori smile inside his heart. With you, there’s always music…
The engineer couldn’t say he’d lost track of how long they’d laid together simply luxuriating in each other’s inexplicable presence. He knew that it had been almost exactly an hour and a half now. This was the third time Lian Rendell’s bottle alarm had chimed.
“If this is a hallucination or a dream,” he asked, spraying the back of his hands. “Then why this damned t'ing keep goin’ off an’ not wakin’ me up?”
I think it’s just that important to you that you keep treating those burns, she replied, the vibrations from her light and teasing. Blindness is bad enough, but God only knows what sort of tailspin you’d go into if you were going to lose your looks.
He gave her an inward scowl. “You mean to tell me you not care ‘bout my looks no more, cher?”
She snuggled against him happily. I like how you look on the inside.
“Damn, girl,” he replied. “That ain’t even my best side…”
Her laugh was like fairy bells inside him. He put the ointment bottle down on the mattress beside him, so he could put both hands over his heart.
“Darlin’,” Del asked quietly. “How long this gonna last?”
I really don’t know, she replied, refusing to acknowledge the sadness creeping around the edges of her essence. It’s already lasted longer than I thought it could.
“Cher,” he corrected gently. “You not t’ink you could ever be wit’ me like this at all.”
Sing another song to me, she requested instead of acknowledging the truth of this. But you really don’t have to sing, do you? Inside you, there’s just music… pure music… like it’s waiting there to be heard… like it’s been there all time inside me too. I just couldn’t hear it before… ‘til there was you.
He smiled. “That sound like a song.”
It is.
His chest tingled delightfully as she began to hum and then sing.
There were birds in the sky
Then there was music and wonderful roses
There was love all around
There were bells on a hill
But I never heard them ringing
No, I never heard them at all
Till there was you
But I never saw them winging
No, I never saw them at all
Till there was you
they tell me in sweet fragrant meadows
of dawn and dew
But I never heard it singing
No I never heard it at all
Till there was you
Del was glad Lian Rendell had done something to stop his tear ducts up. Otherwise they’d be worn out by now. “That was beautiful, cher,” he whispered.
It’s very old, Pelori replied. He could feel the memories the song stirred. My father used to sing it to my mother…
“No, darlin’” he gently stopped her as she automatically began to close off the feelings of grief, confusion, and fear that surrounded her mother’s death. “You not have to do that no more wit’ me…”
Old habits… she began apologetically.
“…Apparently don’t die any more than you,” he teased back.
The flow of Pelori’s feelings suddenly changed. Someone’s coming.
“It Rendell,” Del reported, able to see the Haven’s approach through walls that didn’t exist in psychic reality. “Don’t go, darlin’.”
I’ll try not to, his love promised.
“Having chest pains?” the Haven asked as she breezed in, completely unconcerned about the havoc her presence could wreak.
Del belated realized his hands were still pressed over his heart. “No,” he replied, loathe to move them. “Just hangin’ ‘em out to dry.”
The blue glow of Pelori wasn’t dislodged as Rendell picked up one wrist and turned carefully side-to-side.
“I am relieved to find that you’re not a welsher, Mr. DelMonde,” the doctor said, moving his chin so that she could examine each of his cheeks.
“Did you t’ink I would be?” he asked, almost too nervous to remember to scowl.
“Not when your looks are at stake,” the Haven replied, picking up her bottle of ointment to refill it.
“I don’ know where ever'body’s gettin’ this idea ‘bout me bein' vain…” he grumbled. Inside him, tiny silver bells giggled softly.
“Your readings are continuing to improve,” Rendell said, making notes on her chart. “I’m pleased… Very pleased, in fact. There’s some unusual activity in your electrolyte balance... Wish there was some way to flush that xenoneurophene out of your system…”
Del put his hand back over his chest protectively.
“Listen, Del,” the Haven said, putting her stat board aside. “I know I haven't given you all the time you asked for, but… well, as the saying goes, “Dylan Paine is..” So..?”
“He wantin’ to see me?” the engineer asked, feeling a great deal of trepidation about the prospect.
“It’s either that or I’ve got to sedate him,” Rendell confirmed. “It’ll just be for five minutes max. I can stay in here with him to make sure he doesn’t get too out of hand.”
“No, you not have to do that,” Del replied, casting about for an appropriate reason to refuse the visit.
“Good,” the Haven said, taking his answer as permission granted. “Mr. Paine,” she said, reaching over Del’s bed to hit the comm unit on the bedside table. “You can come in now, but only for five minutes and absolutely NO touching. Do you understand me?”
“Thank you, Doctor!” Paine sounded like he’d been waiting by the comm for hours. “I’ll be right there!”
In response to his groan, Rendell grasped her patient’s shoulder encouragingly and advised. “Brace yourself, Mr. DelMonde.”
“You not know th’ fuckin’ half of it,” the Cajun retorted as she turned to leave.
“Sweet Mary,” Del groaned, feeling Paine’s rapid approach. “Here the puppy come at a run…”
He felt Pelori stiffen inside him. He’s an agent.
“Tell me something I don’t know, cher.”
Don’t let him touch you, she ordered.
He was both pleased and chagrined by her protectiveness. “It over between the boy and me,” he soothed. “Weren’t ever really that serious…”
No, he may be able to detect my presence.
Del’s heart leapt a little at the thought. “Then you really here.”
We haven’t got time for a debate on metaphysics, but if I’m here enough to show up as an electrolyte imbalance, I may be perceptible to a trained Monitor.
“A what?”
Shhh…
Dylan burst through the door at gale force. “Del!”
“Stay the fuck back, boy,” Del warned, drawing enough Loonie juice to erect some credible shielding.
The engineer could see Paine’s emotions bounce off the psychic barricade as if it were a real wall. The young man took a step backwards, momentarily stunned by the unexpected obstacle. “Del, I…”
“Rendell done told you you can’t be touchin’ me,” the Cajun reminded him mercilessly. “Stay the fuck where you at.”
Grief and guilt soaked Dylan’s too bright emotions down to a more bearable level.
“Del,” Paine’s voice caught on his name. “I’m so sorry… I’ve been so worried…”
With real vision, the engineer might have seen and been swayed by the tears in the puppy’s wide, innocent eyes. Looking at the boy with his mind, though, all Del could see was the blue that tainting every other color in the young man’s aura.
“Please…” Paine begged, moving forward slowly. “I’ll be careful.”
Del slammed down all the shields he could muster as he drew away physically. “Stay the fuck back, ‘fore I have Rendell throw you out,” he warned, groping for the comm button on the table. “Damn, boy. Ain’t it enough fo’ you to blind me? You wanna make sure you scar me up too?”
Pelori winced at his harshness as the young man collapsed sobbing beside the bed.
He don’t listen to me ‘less I be mean to him, Del explained to her silently. And most times, not even then...
“Please,” Paine was pleading. “God, Del, please don’t hate me!”
The Cajun gave an exasperated sigh. “Son, you got me in quite a pickle here --- If I say I don’t hate you, you gonna jump up an’ throw yourself on me in relief. If let you t’ink I do hate you, you gonna throw yourself on me in desperation.”
“Del,” the young man began, rising slowly.
The engineer spread his hand nearest Paine out in warning gesture. “An’ if I say anything in between, you gonna jump up an’ start tryin’ to play wit’ my hair to try an' get me to go one way or th' other.”
Even without vision, Del could see the boy blinking his too blue puppy eyes.
“Now pull yourself together, or I gonna have you tossed out on your ass. Understand me?”
“Del…” Paine began piteously.
“Do you understand me?” the engineer repeated uncompromisingly.
“I understand.”
Part of what made Paine so irritating -- and to be honest, so attractive – was that he didn’t think. He felt. Big, overpowering, helpless emotions. Right now the boy was drenched in puppy hurt, confusion, and sadness so overwhelming that spoke directly to the protective instincts of anyone with half a heart. Since Del’s heart was under double occupancy at the moment, it was hard to harden it and make himself turn his mental “eyes” away from his former lover’s innocent anguish.
“Let’s talk ‘bout the accident,” he began firmly. “An’ note that I do call it an accident ‘cause I understand it not happen by design. Do you understand this, son?”
Paine let one of his hands slide forward and touch the base of Del’s bed. “It was my fault,” he said, choking back sobs. “This is my fault…”
“Yes,” the Cajun confirmed sternly. “This was your fault. Now get your hand away from the bed.”
Paine was shocked enough to obey.
“The accident,” Del clarified, “was in part your fault ‘cause – yet again – you not quit doing somet’ing I told you not to do in th' first place.”
The puppy fell into an appropriately guilty silence.
“The accident was also in part my fault ‘cause – like any midshipman knows you not supposed to do – I removed my gear an’ not leave th' area while equipment was still in operation. An' I can t’ink of at least one o’ my instructors at the Academy who will now be usin’ me as an example of how t' fuck yourself up royally to teach generations o' midshipmen to come. Gleefully too, if I know that ol’ bastard – ‘cause I never did listen to him anymore than you listen to me.”
“Del…” Paine was emboldened by softening of his tone enough to dare put a hand against the metal side of the sickbay bed.
“Get your fuckin’ hand away!” the Cajun snapped.
The young man pulled away as quickly as if he’d been burned. “Then,” he began, confused, “you can see?”
“Yeah, I got the x-ray vision now,” the engineer informed him sarcastically. “So back your fuckin’ bones up.”
Paine didn’t move a muscle. “Mental attributes are strengthening to compensate for the loss of physical abilities,” he said, half to himself.
“Fuckin’ fascinatin', I sure,” Del replied wanly. “But since I tired an’ in no mood … an’ we done talked about whose fault t'ings were an’ weren’t - an’ established that I don’t entirely hate you - you need to get your ass out o' here an’ let me be.”
Paine didn’t leave, but neither did he try to reach forward again. He simply sat back on his heels and studied the figure on the bed before him.
Del watched, riveted and horrified as blue began to build and flow more freely through the young man.
At the prompting of an inward nudge to action, the Cajun groped for the nearest thing that came to hand. “Get the fuck outta here, now!” he ordered, throwing Rendell’s bottle of ointment at Paine’s head. “Go on! Get out!”
Even though it missed by a country mile, the boy rose and crossed slowly to the door.
“I’ll come back later… after you’ve rested,” Dylan said, in his 'calm' voice that agitated Del even more than the boy’s most melodramatic tones. “Sleep, Del.”
The engineer grabbed something metal off the bedside table and threw it at the door for good measure as Paine exited. “Fuckin’ idiot chiot…”
So, Pelori said in to the wake of silence following Paine’s departure. That’s your taste in men?
“No,” he snapped back irritably. “That a stupid fuckin’ mistake I made.”
As his juiced-up shielding faded, there was nothing Del could do to stop all the things that he did not want Pelori to know he’d done in the past few month’s from the puppy’s memories seeped out damningly from his own.
“We get to how I so thoroughly managed to fuck up both my life an’ this boy’s in a few short months in a minute,” Del said into the somewhat weighty silence between them. “But first I need you to tell me what you know ‘bout what you called a 'Monitor.'”
Pelori gave the mental equivalent of an annoyed but resigned sigh. As you know, most humans are at least a little empathic…
“Almost all.” Del corrected for T-Paul’s sake.
He could see that Pelori still thought of the Russian as “Lahs” in her thoughts. Well, your friend is a rare case among rare cases, but this tendency – and perhaps all human empathy starts out as a basic primate characteristic – survival of the species stuff. It’s what helps us bind to our young, to bond with a mate…
Despite everything, the two of them couldn’t help smiling at each other a little at the thought of bonding with a mate.
People like your… Del took some satisfaction in the involuntary leakage of jealousy as Pelori searched for an appropriate term. …your Mr. Paine take this general ability to imprint a step further. Stimulated by intense feelings of affection, they become “in simpatico” – able to feel the emotions of object of their focus – sometimes over great distance.
“’Cause distance don’t mean diddly to gift.”
Exactly. What you and I have is true empathy, a general ability to read emotion equally well from people we love or people we hate. People like Mr. Pain… I mean, Mr. Paine have a very limited and focused empathy. Over the course of a lifetime, their ability may be active in connection with only one or two other people.
“So not that uncommon,” Del said, thinking of examples of twins, mothers and children, and famous lovers. “But unusual enough to make fo’ the stuff o' legend...”
Or court cases, Pelori replied. Focused empathy does tend to lead to what the Greeks called ‘mania’ – obsessive devotion even at the expense of one’s health, sanity, and well-being.
“Or even that o' the object o' they affection.” For some reason, the image of Irina Galliun evaporating herself and Chione sprang to mind.
Yes, Pelori confirmed both the thought and the example. And since gift attracts gift…
Del raised an eyebrow. “Does it?”
Almost always. Almost irresistibly. We usually either love or hate each other immediately. The more compatible the gifts, the stronger the attraction.
The engineer frowned and thought of his history of impassioned interactions with other ‘pathics. “You don’t say?”
Pelori was thinking of her history with him. Oh, but I do.
“Wish somebody tell me these t'ings…”
Even the average human male should come with an owner’s manual.
“An' Lord knows, I not average…” he said, before she could.
Pelori smiled. Far from.
“So, these Limiteds tend t' latch onto other Limiteds..”
Not necessarily, she replied, launching into lecture mode again like a much, much sexier version of Spock. Compatible gifts are not always identical and identical gifts are not always compatible. The “Limiteds” tend to form the strongest links to other Gifteds.
The image of Dylan Paine as a magnetic mine set out for Del lingered in both of their thoughts.
“An’ now through the miracle o’ modern chemistry…?” he prompted.
Xenoneurophene changes and enhances all other gifts. The effect is idiosyncratic to the individual, but generally they develop better shielding, better focus, more conscious control over what they do…
“An’ what is it they do, sugar?”
He could feel her go through a rapid paced version of her typical debate on how much she was at liberty to reveal. At Mr. Paine’s level, he’s still basically a Monitor – able to report his subject’s psychic health or lack thereof with a high degree of accuracy. He has established a strong enough connection to you to be able to do some rudimentary work as Shepherd…
“Where I the sheep?” Del growled.
In a manner of speaking, she admitted. Shepherds lead and guide…
“Towards what?”
That all depends, she answered with ingrained evasiveness. Because they don’t have generalized empathy, they’re capable of greater clarity than we are – less vulnerable to outside influences… They can be a very stabilizing influence on a more powerful tel/empath.
“That all fuckin’ depends too,” Del said bitterly.
Yes, she agreed uneasily. It does…The highest levels of what you’re calling “Limiteds” become Catalysts.
“The trigger on the gun?”
That’s one way of looking at it. In the wrong hands, they can cause all sorts of nasty things to happen. Normally, though...
“They channel an’ focus energy of another Gifted… Yeah, I done been through that.”
It was Pelori’s turn to be surprised. Really?
He sent her his memory of how Irina Galliun had prepared him for his battle with the Beast on Dreamland.
Del, if you’ve already been through activation with a Catalyst -- And it’s pretty clear you have – you’re set up perfectly for whatever it is Paine and his handlers have in mind for you.
Although he’d figured a lot of this out for himself already, having his suspicions confirmed was chilling. “Which is?”
That I don’t know. She let him feel that she was being completely open with him on this. These things tend to be pretty long range. They may not even be sure yet themselves. If you don’t want to wind up as a “sheep,” though, you can’t be in a relationship with a Catalyst-in-training. Even a close friendship can bring out things in you, you’d rather not see… Even worse than what you’ve already seen…
Del sighed ruefully. “So now we get back to the part where I done fucked up my life so bad… Cher, after I lost you…”
You don’t have to explain, she interrupted. I already know.
“So you gonna go all Indiian and acceptin’ on me?” he asked, only half-teasing.
Just half, she replied. The Human half still wants to kick your ass.”
“So where does that leave me? Acceptin' half an ass-kickin'?”
As long as you continue to rely on external sources of stabilization, you’re going to be vulnerable to manipulation and unable to control when, where, how, and at whom the destructive forces inside you are unleashed, she said, her mental voice cold with concern. Others aren’t always going to go with your favorite option of unleashing them on yourself.
Del had almost forgotten how expertly Lil’ Mac had always been able to cut him to the quick. Booze, dope, lovers, and anything else Miss MacEntyre disapproved of were all now neatly and damningly packaged up as “external sources of stabilization.” And, as usual with her, it would have all hurt less if it were one grain less true.
“So I just gotta man up an’ learn to take it on the chin, huh?” he asked with bitter sarcasm.
“Talking to yourself, Mr. DelMonde?”
Del had been too wrapped up in his conversation with Pelori to be alert to Rendell’s approach and entrance.
“Damn, woman,” he breathed, startled. “I know I sorta a guest at your house right now. But you gotta learn to fuckin’ knock ‘fore you barge in on a man.”
“Why?” she asked retrieving the bottle he’d thrown at Dylan. “You doing something interesting? I didn’t think your hands were healed enough for that...Thought you might need a sedative after The Paine blew through. I usually do.”
“I all right,” he muttered, discontentedly pulling at the restraints she’d left fastened around his chest and legs. “Get these t'ings off me. I wanna sit up.”
“Let’s see how ‘all right’ you are first,” Rendell replied, moving unhurriedly to check the panel over his bed. “Not bad. Not bad at all, Mr. DelMonde. Electrolytes are still being a little playful… Blood pressure’s up, but that’s just dear Dylan’s calling card, isn’t it?”
Del stopped himself from replying, 'That an' havin' a fight wit' my invisible girlfriend.'
“If I let you up,” the Haven asked moving beside him. “Can I get a promise that you won’t be throwing anything else?”
“Fuck no,” he replied adamantly. “Give it up, Rendell. I clear-headed enough now not to make another deal wit’ you.”
“Hmph.” The doctor sounded disappointed, but released the restraints and helped him up to sitting. “How’s that?”
The engineer groaned and put a hand to his aching head as the world swam crazily around him. “I feel like I done been backed over by a battlecruiser..”
“Regardless of that,” Rendell said, firmly taking his hand away from the vicinity of his face and replacing it with the ointment bottle. “Our old bargain is still in place.”
“Sweet Mary, what the hell was I t’inkin’ makin’ a deal with a Haven?” Del asked, shaking his head and trying to come to terms with the fact that his “vision” such as it was, wasn’t going to clear. “Don’t ya’ll have somet’ing that say it unfair to take advantage of sick people?”
“As if,” Rendell snorted. “Why do you think I became a doctor?”
“Put it that way an’ it do make a lot o’ sense,” the engineer agreed.
The doctor moved away from him. He could tell from the sounds that she was punching an order into a computer. “I’ll bet you’re thirsty too.”
“Now that you mention it, I could do wit’ a drink.”
“Here you go,” she said, returning to him and wrapping his hand around a glass. “Bourbon and branch – hold the bourbon.”
“Oh, the comic talent goin’ to waste here,” he sneered unappreciatively before drinking the water.
“Service with a smile,” she replied, unfazed. “It’s all right to sit up, but don’t try to walk around yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t see,” the Haven stage-whispered back to him as if it were a big secret. “There’s a tendency to run into things….”
“Thanks fo' th' heads up, Li,” he replied sourly as retrieved the empty glass.
“Plus your equilibrium is still probably going to be a little off for a few more hours,” she informed him as she put a whirring instrument near his ear.
“When you gonna come out an’ ask me?” Del asked as the doctor added pillows to his bed.
“Ask you what?” she replied more as a stall than a real question.
“Since you done said yes to th' puppy,” the engineer said as she helped him lay back into a semi-reclining position. “You can’t go on sayin’ no to th' captain.”
Rendell’s scowl was as apparent in her emotions as it would be on her face. “I’m getting tired of being your social secretary, Mr. DelMonde.”
“Ain’t that part o' the service wit’ the smile?”
“It’s the part of the service,” the doctor said, making more notes on her chart. “It comes with and without smiling.”
“You still ain’t askin’ me if I wanna talk to him,” the engineer noted.
“Guess that means that if I certify you medically fit for a visit, you don’t have a choice,” the Haven replied easily. “The captain will be right in, Mr. DelMonde.”
"Crystal" by Fleetwood Mac
"Till There Was You" by Meredith Wilson, performed by Kristen Chenowith