Chapter 9: Summer

If he hadn’t been so loyal to his master and so afraid of the consequences for disobedience, Golenko would have stormed Martha Jacobs’ house and blown her telephone to fragments with a burst from his machine pistol. Then he’d fire a slug through her heart. He’d monitored the telephone recordings for almost a month. He heard nothing but calls about social functions, and her weekly chat with her son Rhys. There was nothing to lead him to Hawthorne.

He was no longer welcome at the Jackpot, Nevada casinos. He’d gotten angry at one of the bar waitresses and roughly pushed her away. She stumbled against another customer, who lost his balance and fell onto a crowded 21 table. Four security people hustled him to their office. They photographed him, frog-marched him outside, and warned him not to return. His photo and exclusion order would be given to the local deputy sheriff. He was unwelcome at the casinos, and would be arrested for violating the restraining order if he was seen in the town limits. That ended his whoring.

He’d tried his luck in the bars and dance joints around Twin Falls, but most women found him crude, rude and frightening. He dared not take anyone by force; he had no “get out of jail” card. He had no protection here. This wasn’t eastern Europe. He couldn’t even find porn tapes. State law and city ordinances had banned triple-X videotape sales years earlier. Golenko was a very unhappy fellow. He was bored, alone, and angry.

Steve Barringer wasn’t having any better luck. He, too, was receiving intercepts of Martha Jacobs’ telephone calls, but he didn’t have to listen to them. The agency had trained analysts to do that. Their methods were more expensive than Golenko’s simple bribery, and they had no plans to dispose of their source. But the risk was just as high. There would be bloody hell to pay if anyone suspected they were monitoring private communications. Or maybe not. The agency held extensive dossiers on most of the capitol hill players. The phrase “glass house” is an old cliché but it’s as valid as ever.

Michael’s link with Dee’rah returned. His tensions eased when he reached the wilderness sanctuary of the Idaho mountains. He felt peace and confidence—and then she was there with him, a dim but certain presence. He recognized and acknowledged her; she grew stronger, warmer, and closer.

I see what you see, Michael-mine! Are these your mountains? This is the wild home you reached for in your sadness?

Yes, Dee’rah-mine. Of all the beautiful places on this planet, this is most favored. This is my home.

Dee’rah, are you well? It is winter there, no human can work or venture without extreme protection. You are terribly isolated. Is everyone well?”

Oh, yes, quite so. We harvest from the sea, we watch more carefully. And we prepare, Michael-mine! We prepare for the crystals! For so long we had no hope; now we rejoice! You have them and you will bring them to us. Our best technicians study to be ready for them. It will go quickly when you arrive. Michael-mine, we have waited so long. It has been so many ... generations! Our longing, our hope, sustained through so many legend-singings! You could never truly know our joy!

A burst of emotion engulfed him, staggered him with its power. It had to be channeled through Dee’rah!

Dee’rah! Is that your people’s ... feelings? Please ... it is too much!

The feeling withdrew. He sensed an apology; he felt Dee’rah’s parents emotions of appreciation and embarrassment for overwhelming his human sensibilities.

Apologies, Michael-mine. Perhaps you see-feel now, our anticipation, what you have brought to us ... will bring to us?

Yes, of course. I must beg you, please understand. I have only begun. There are enemies trying to stop me. They fear your ship under the ice. They do not know what is there, so they imagine it must be some threat, some danger to them, to their interests, their power base. I must elude them. You understand, there are dangers I must avoid?

No! It is painful even to think ... nothing in our culture. Anathema, Michael-mine, such aggression, violence, harm ... How do you survive so much these ... conflicts, Michael-mine?

Michael smiled within himself, and Dee’rah sensed his ironic humor:

I survive, lovely Dee’rah, because that is what we do. What I have always done. We humans, we are survivors, Dee-rah. We cope, we struggle, we use our wits and we survive. I will survive this, and you will survive to voyage home. You will all go home!

Dee’rah, I am thousands and thousands of miles, our earth measure, from you. How is it that we see-speak? I was alone until I came into this valley, this place, and now you are here with me. I am pleased, happy, but I’m confused. How are you here with me, now?

Her laughter thrilled his soul. He felt her amusement:

Poor Michael-mine! So much you learn! So quickly you grow! You become what we thought you could never be, and you are confused by what is a new thing within yourself. It is the affinity, the sympathy in your mind. We bond! I to you, you to me, and you to your wilderness. The earth-lines, its energy—the energy currents—they amplify your mind-strength and direct it, channel it. We connect, Michael-mine, because your soul wishes it and my soul wishes it. You feel affinity for your earth, and your mind follows the energy-lines. Not difficult, Michael-mine, not so difficult if you have empathy-sympathy ... the desire.

Tipoff

Martha’s blood ran cold the moment her friend Helen uttered her thoughtless words.