Designed to Love (20 page)

RONAN

With the help of the other Designers,
Brandon makes a near perfect landing on the airstrip adjacent to
his house. It would have been nearly impossible to stay on the icy
runway without the outside influence of an unseen energy force. The
Christmas lights on the exterior of the house, frame the entire
roof line as well as the twenty some odd windows and the airport
hangar is decorated to match. It's a beautiful sight from two
thousand feet in the air, and even more spectacular from the
ground. I glance at Alisha and she gives me a knowing smile. I had
requested that the house be decorated in tribute to Cat, but the
gang went above and beyond what I expected they would. I only hoped
that Cat could see it from her place in heaven.

Elizabeth launches herself in my arms as
soon as I enter the house. Only she would ignore the fact that I
reek of alcohol and body odor, to make sure I feel genuinely
welcomed home. Jason and Michael aren't so tolerant. After shaking
my hand and murmuring something about being glad to have me home
for Christmas, Michael points me in the direction of my newly
assigned bedroom suite and suggests I take a shower before touching
any of the furnishings.

***

The 8x10 wedding photo of Cat and me is the
first thing I notice after tossing my bag on the bed and turning to
the dresser for clean clothes. It's the one of us standing at the
altar, facing each other. She is looking up at me, smiling; her
face radiant and beautiful. I am instantly transported back in time
as my mind releases the memory, allowing me to experience the
moment just as I did that day. It seems like a lifetime ago since I
experienced that kind of joy.

"I'm sorry Ronan. The others said it wasn't
a good idea, but it just seems wrong to erase her memory
completely," Elizabeth says softly, interrupting my flashback.

Sighing, I replace the frame on the dresser,
angling the photo so that I can see it from the bed. "It's okay,
Liz. I love it and I'm glad you took the initiative," I reply
quietly, turning to face her. She is standing in the doorway
regarding me in such a way that I can tell she has something more
to say, but after a few awkward moments she mumbles, "I'm glad
you're home Ronan," and walks away.

***

The absence of my beard and mustache
accentuates the hollowness under my eyes and cheekbones, and even I
concede that I look more like a prisoner of war, than a
Designer.

Brandon says, "Well at least you don't look
like a bum anymore."

Alisha laughs when she sees me and quips,
"You're a rail, and I'm pretty sure I could kick your ass in any
competition." She looks pleased when I promise to take her up on
the challenge by the end of the week. Claire begs me to go swimming
with her, and pouts when Jason tells her, "Not until I do a
complete physical on him." She's not easily discouraged from
monopolizing my attention though and grabs my hand, pulling me in
to the great room to show off the mound of presents under the
gigantic Christmas tree, the majority of which are addressed to
her. Furniture had to be rearranged to accommodate the enormous
Christmas tree, but the result is stunning. "Even with all of the
McCullough's ornaments, more needed to be purchased to fill all of
the branches," Alisha announces. Out of the hundreds of ornaments
on the tree, my eyes pick out the one with a picture of Cat and me
in a frame that says,
Our First
Christmas.
Alisha murmurs, "Liz's idea," and walks away,
while the rest of us stare at the tree with the pretense of
admiring all of the other ornaments.

It is Jason, who spares me from further
awkwardness when he announces to the group that he's stealing me
for a few minutes to do a health assessment. I follow him to the
recreational room on the fourth floor where part of it has been
remodeled into a medical office exam room. It is furnished with all
of the same type of equipment that was in the hospital exam room:
cot, blood pressure cuff, IV pole and even a cardiac monitor. He
motions for me to take a seat on the cot and begins his exam by
looking in my eyes, ears and throat, before grabbing his
stethoscope to listen to my heart and lungs. His brow furrows, and
his face conveys concern when he palpates my liver.

"Your liver is enlarged Ronan. I better draw
some labs today. How much and what kind of alcohol were you
drinking?" he asks outright.

"Tequila, and enough to drown out her
memory," is all I admit to. Is the damage permanent?"

"I'm not sure; in a human with normal
DNA—probably not. But with your genetic makeup, there's no way to
tell. Cheetahs, elephants and gorillas don't go on drinking
binges," he adds smiling.

There is a soft knock on the door and Alisha
enters before either of us has a chance to invite her in.

"How's he doing?" she asks, not waiting for
an answer before reaching for the stethoscope around Jason's neck.
"Take some deep breaths," she instructs, bending her dark head over
me, as she listens intently. I am amazed at how easily she manages
to morph, from being an annoying, bossy, big sister type, to a
brilliant, professional physician whose clinical skills I trust
completely.

"Will I recover my remote viewing and
telepathic skills?" I ask the question weighing most heavily on my
mind.

It's a question that no doubt, plagues her
as well. After all, other than Claire, I am the only one to possess
remote traveling capabilities, a key factor for any undercover
mission.

"There are two different components that I
believe those abilities come from Ronan; the synthetic DNA strands
that were custom built by Dr. Kappel, and our vibrational energy
which I believe is linked to those synthetic strands. According to
Claire, your vibrational state decreased dramatically, so if I'm
correct about it being linked to the DNA, then you may very well
have caused permanent damage. Only time will tell."

"You still have alcohol in your blood
stream, so let's wait until tomorrow before worrying too much. Why
don't you try and get some sleep," Jason adds softly.

Alisha stops me as I turn around to leave.
"Bernie is flying in tomorrow you know," she says, almost in a
challenging tone. When I don't react, she looks disappointed and
once again, I get the impression that she is holding back. If it
weren't for the fact that I can barely keep my eyes open, I would
drag it out of her, ending her dilemma once and for all.

***

All eyes are on me, when I enter the kitchen
on Christmas morning. There is Christmas music playing on the
stereo and Claire is seated at the kitchen counter, softly singing
along, as she puts the final sprinkles on some homemade cupcakes.
She immediately looks up and studies the energy field surrounding
me. To everyone's relief, a faint smile plays at the corners of her
mouth and she murmurs, "Almost yellow." She must see what I'm not
quite feeling yet—the shroud of darkness threatening to engulf me
is finally lifting.

In spite of the fact that Jason and Alisha
refused to provide me with any sleeping tablets, I slept decent
enough. They said it was time to purge my body of all impurities
and Alisha made a point of declaring that I would be scheduled some
training time today, regardless of the planned festivities. I don't
say out loud that I would rather train all day, than participate in
today's celebration, even though it's what I'm thinking.

"Don't even think of skipping out on opening
presents—you've hurt Claire enough," Alisha warns, making me wonder
if she's developed a gift for reading minds since I've been
gone.

***

Much to my surprise, watching Claire open
her Christmas presents has more of a therapeutic effect then I
could ever have imagined. She displays the perfect balance of
excitement and gratitude, rewarding each giver with a huge smile
and spending just the right amount of time admiring the gift before
moving on to open the next present. Just like Cat, she displays a
natural etiquette in social situations that make her a magnet for
further attention, and today all eyes are on her. With the help of
Elizabeth, I was able to slip a last minute present under the tree
which was nothing more than a handwritten note tucked in a
colorfully wrapped box, promising her two hours of play time in the
pool. I should have anticipated that she would choose it first,
over all the other games and toys given to her, and when she comes
skipping down the hall with her bathing suit on, the others bust up
laughing.

***

Alisha, Brandon, and Burke join us in the
pool, and Claire shows off some new tricks she's learned on the
newly installed trapeze bar hanging from the ceiling beams over the
pool. Having Brandon and Burke around, is like having personal
Imagineers from Disney World, and the downstairs pool room is
beginning to look like a theme park.

After being launched eight feet in the air
by Burke, Claire grabs the swinging bar with precise timing and
easily pulls herself up to a sitting position. Swinging high over
the pool, she says, "Hey Ronan, watch this," and falls backwards,
catching the bar under her knees, swinging like a monkey, before
releasing her legs to perform a double somersault, ending with a
head first dive into the pool. Like any one of us, she could
qualify for an Olympic sport of her choosing, and with minimal
effort or training, walk away with a gold medal every single time.
It's a double-edge sword for the genetically enhanced: a mind and
body designed to perform in unimaginable ways, living within the
confines of a world not ready to accept them.

We are in the pool for almost three hours
playing games, swimming laps, racing, and of course finding new
challenges for Claire on the trapeze; when Michael comes down to
announce Bernie's arrival. It's the diversion needed to get Claire
out of the pool, without a confrontation.

"Thanks Ronan, I had a
great time,"
Claire says, unintentionally communicating
telepathically. Then realizing I might not be able to hear her, she
starts to repeat it out loud and I interrupt her with my own mental
reply,
"You're welcome."
Her eyes
widen with pleasure, then grinning sheepishly she says,
"Welcome back,"
of course not
referring to my physical presence.

***

I am in no big hurry to face Bernie
Stoddard, given the fact that she's probably not too pleased with
my national exposure in the Porter event, so I don't complain when
Alisha grabs my arm, holding me back after the others head
upstairs.

"I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, I know," I say drawing a surprised
look from her.

"Ronan, you know how you've had the feeling
of remote traveling to an abandoned town with an airport?" she asks
hesitantly, making me stiffen with anxiety.

"Yeah, what about it?

"Well, Claire has had similar experiences
and I can't help but wonder if somehow your experiences are
linked."

I stare silently into her bright blue eyes,
trying to comprehend what she's implying. Alisha isn't one to be
optimistic and if she thinks the events are linked then there's a
good chance they are. Closing my eyes, I swallow hard, and try
regulating my out of control heart beat. I hear Cat's voice calling
me and feel helpless all over again.

My survival instinct kicks in and, I start
to discount the idea, refusing to allow myself to consider the
possibility that this is anything other than a mere coincidence,
when Alisha blurts, "She hears Cat calling her from wherever this
place is."

I stare mutely at her, completely
dumbfounded, and Alisha sits down on the edge of the pool,
motioning for me to do the same.

"There's something else that you need to
know," she says carefully, studying me intently. "All of us
have..." She pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. "All
of us have received telepathic messages from Cat."

"That's impossible," I breathe, frantically
trying to come up with some explanation to prevent my heart from
latching on to even the faintest hope, that....

"How...When...What do you mean by telepathic
messages?" I demand, controlling my urge to shake the information
out of her.

She places her hand over mine before
continuing. "It started around the same time for all of us, but we
thought we were going crazy, so no one said anything. It wasn't
until Claire admitted her remote traveling experiences that the
rest of us confessed to our own experiences. We hear her voice,
just like we hear each other's. The problem is, she can't hear us
when we respond."

Suddenly my mouth feels as dry as the Sahara
and when I attempt to speak, it sounds more like a frog
croaking.

"Ali, I hear her too. She tells me to keep
looking, she's not gone. Is that what you and the others hear?" I
ask, my voice strained.

Alisha slowly nods her head. "Ronan, I don't
want you to get your hopes up. Bernie is upstairs with the DNA
report from the body parts recovered from the crash site. She
insisted on giving us the results personally and wanted you to be
here."

My heart once again skips a beat, and Alisha
glances at the left side of my chest as if detecting the
interruption.

"Hearing Cat's voice could just mean that we
have some sort of spiritual connection to dead people," she says
quietly.

***

Bernie and the others are gathered in the
great room quietly watching Claire open Bernie's Christmas present,
when Alisha and I enter. Chairs have been brought in from the
kitchen and everyone is seated in a semicircle, with the exception
of Claire, who is sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree.
The mood is solemn, even Claire shows considerably less enthusiasm
than she did this morning, slowly taking her time to untie the
ribbon on the package first, then removing the paper without
tearing it. It's clear by the way she nervously looks at Bernie,
that someone has clued her in to the purpose of the meeting, and a
part of me wants to usher her out of the room, protecting her from
further hurt. Bernie acknowledges me with a warm smile, but doesn't
make a big deal of my absence or the mischief I managed to get
myself into while traveling. She examines me with the same scrutiny
as always, only now I don't take it personally. I know it's habit
for her, part of being in the FBI for so many years. I study her
face as well, looking for any clue as to the outcome of the DNA
test. As expected, her face gives away nothing.