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Authors: Raine Weaver

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BOOK: Lucidity
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Damn good point. “Well…no.”

“And who do you think I’ve been taking orders from over this fancy ET-call-home phone?” She waved the cellie she carried at all times before him, the titanium metal accented by an eternally pulsing blue light. “Spielberg?”

“I’d really like to believe you, babe.” That much was the truth. Having some power over the harsh shit in the real world? Yes, it would be nice to believe in magic and wish fulfillment, or that humans were capable of something beyond base animal instincts.

Of course, he was staring at the way her breasts strained against her cinched nightgown as he had the thought, imagining how full and ripe they might feel in his hands. So much for higher consciousness. “But I can’t take this on faith. Give me something definite, something that’ll rock my world.”

“That’s exactly what’s on its way, big guy. But when it happens I won’t feel much like saying I told you so.”

Parker stood, lit a cigarette and walked in slow circles around the room. Normally, he took his vice outside since she was a nonsmoker, but all the rules seemed to have flown out the window today. “I really don’t believe in this kinda crap, y’know. Astrology and magic and hunches and ghosts—all bullshit.”

“Parker, I swear to God—”

“Don’t believe in him either.”

He’d anticipated her shocked reaction. Carly was a believer in things she had no right to have faith in. Including him.

What he had not expected was his reaction to hers. For the briefest of moments, he was disappointed in himself, in confessing something that might actually make her think less of him. He’d never set himself up as larger than life to anybody. He was an imperfect man who made no apologies for it. But the idea of Carly being disappointed in him struck him like a mortal blow to his gut. He had no idea silence from a woman could wound him so much.

Shooting her a sheepish grin, he nodded. “Don’t worry, babe. It’s okay. I don’t suppose God believes in me either.”

She sat back, looking stunned. “What
do
you believe in?”

He tried for nonchalance while becoming more uncomfortable with the conversation. He wouldn’t lie to her, but he wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the truth. “I believe in what I’ve seen with my own eyes, and the things I’ve experienced. Brute force. The dark side of human nature. And the persuasive power of a pistol.”

“How can you live like that? You can’t seriously think that’s all there is to our existence. You’d put all your faith in a cold, metal machine rather than believe we’re bigger than the sum of our parts? What’s with you and that gun anyway?”

“The pistol?” His hand went automatically to the frayed holster at his hips, distractedly caressing the layered-pearl handle. “It belonged to my old man, a paramilitary operations officer. He always thought of it as his good luck charm. Solid. Uncomplicated. Dependable. Even on special assignment in Afghanistan, when they were waylaid and he lost half his team, he came out unharmed. It was handed down to him by his father, a beat cop before him.” The corner of his mouth curled upward. “A shared legacy of violence. Keeps me nice and grounded.”

“That’s not grounded,” she whispered. “That’s haunted.”

“And you think imagining you can control reality is a healthy state of mind? You’re convinced that you, as a group, really have such a power?”

“I’m convinced that everyone does, to some degree. Whether it’s dreams, visualizations, focused prayer—whatever. Whether it’s for good or bad. But yes. We do.”

He returned to his seat, trying to keep his voice gentle. “Proof?”

She shrugged, staring at the food, now grown cold. “Do you remember that deadly drought in the southwest a couple of years ago?”

“Vaguely. I was out of the country at the time.”

“Meteorologists were forecasting that it’d last several more weeks with unimaginable damage to crops, and many people had already died from the extreme heat. We brought rain—a good, soaking amount that astonished every weatherman in the region.”

“Lemme guess. One hundred people took to their beds and had wet dreams?”

She looked stricken by his remark, and he regretted it immediately. Delusion or not, he needed to remember this belief was one she seemed to hold dear. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. Go on.”

“Well, last summer there was that rash of killer tornadoes across the plains. We managed to disperse them. I remember waking with quite a headache after dealing with something of such immense power.” She continued hurriedly, as if afraid he might dismiss her again. “Or you may recall seeing that crippled jetliner wrangle a safe landing three months ago after it had lost all engines. That was an emergency call. But we worked together and got it done.”

Carly squirmed in her chair, watching his reactions and nervously twisting a strand of her hair. It made him want to thread his fingers through the thickness of it, wrap it around his fist as he took her without mercy. “I know what you’re thinking, Munroe.”

If there really was a God, he’d pray that she didn’t. “Do you?”

“I know it’s all hard to believe. But it can’t be mere coincidence that
everything
we dream as a group actually became reality.”

That, he thought, would depend on what she chose to consider reality.

He remembered the incidents, each and every one. Yeah, the weather anomalies she mentioned had been freakish, apparently appearing out of nowhere. But so did lightning and swarms of locusts. Nobody claimed credit for those.

The airplane landing had been hailed as something close to miraculous. He knew more than a few flyboys. The pilot who could bring that baby down had never been born.

But it wasn’t possible that the One Hundred had anything to do with these things.
Couldn’t
be possible. “Forces of nature, woman, and a coincidence here and there. What else ya got?”

“I suppose you want parting-of-the-Red-Sea spectacular?”

“Thrill me.”

“How about something personal instead?”

Her voice softened, and she absently toyed with her glass of orange juice. “I’ve had a series of bodyguards. Did you know that? The government doesn’t want any of us to get too comfortable in one place or with one person.”

“That’s not unusual.”

“My last guy was a big Romanian bruiser. He liked to listen to heavy metal and didn’t speak a word of English. Efficient but not much fun.”

Parker controlled his twitching lips. Barely. “Unaffected by the lingerie parade, huh?”

“Totally gay.”

“Lucky man.”

He watched her hide her smile in her upraised glass. “Careful, Munroe. That was dangerously close to a compliment.”

If it didn’t make him so all-fired horny, he’d love the way they always left so much unsaid. “So you asked your people for a thick-necked, hard-nosed straight guy?”

“No. I never said a word. I got it into my head about three months ago that I’d
dream up
a new guard. A burly sorta guy with a little scruff and a big—er, protective instinct. A bodyguard with enough integrity to keep his hands to himself, whether I wanted him to or not. Somebody I could actually tease—er, talk to, have a little fun with, and still know for sure he’d keep me safe.”

She grinned and pointed at the flat brush of hair on his head. “In my dream that was longer. Curled just over your collar, a sun-streaked, surfer-boy blond. And you don’t talk as much as I’d hoped. But the rest of you pretty well matched my order.”

Parker pushed violently away from the table, his chair striking a harsh note against the floor.
Shit
. Okay, this must’ve been some kind of joke. The kind of sick joke that sonofabitch Shep might play on him.

But his handler’s info and responsibilities were nearly as limited as his own. There was no way Carly or Shep would know he would be given this assignment. Four months ago, Parker was wrapping up a stint in the Gulf, protecting a fact-finding senator.

And there was no way Carly would know he’d worn his sun-bleached hair longer then, curling just over his collar. He’d cut it short, just days before getting the call to protect her—three months ago.

Shit
.

She squirmed in her chair, avoiding his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m some strange bug you found clinging to the screen door. I swear, my coochie’s the same as everybody’s. You said we should talk. I thought you wanted the truth.”

“Having you creep me out was not what I had in mind. You’re saying you somehow
ordered
me to come to you?”

“Of course not. You have your own free will. I wanted a particular kind of bodyguard, and you were in the protection business. We were pursuing the same course from different angles. You fit the bill. Except for the fun part. You can be
so
grim, Parker.”

He almost laughed. Point man on the menu? Did she want fries with that? “It’s ridiculous. You’re talking about the ability to manipulate matter and energy. Do you know how scary that sounds?” He did. And he wasn’t a man who scared easily. Keeping a wary distance from her, he nervously flicked his lighter for emphasis. “If such a thing was possible, do you have any idea what kind of evil could come with
misusing
such a gift?”

She solemnly nodded. “Now you know why our only shared communication is via that special-issue cell phone. And why our enemies hate us and manufacture lies.”

“They’re afraid.”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t
you
? I mean, wouldn’t you worry about doing something
wrong
with such a power?”

“It’s a risk. One of the chances we take.”

Craziness. Insanity. But someone with authority had obviously been convinced. And her sincerity was starting to sway him too. “How does this work?”

“Our superiors send out a call or text message to each of us. We’ve all been briefed on the appearance of the rock in relation to the planet. They give us a short description of what we’re to concentrate on. And at the specified time, we all dream about changing the course, as specified.” She paused as a clanking sound from the radiator seemed to rattle her. The woman was weary and definitely on edge. “It’s basically training. The sessions have been designed to gradually become longer, more intense, until the last big push.”

“And if your little virtual reality game doesn’t work?”

The brown eyes before him lost their lively luster. “Then I guess the dream ends, doesn’t it?”

Christ. It was almost too much to take in. “Any change in the trajectory so far?”

“I’m told there’s been an occasional wobble here and there, but no. No significant difference.”

Dammit, she was going to be heartbroken when this crap didn’t work. “One hundred eyes turned inward?”

“That’s the idea. I think we have a good chance, if everybody follows through. There are a couple of less talented backup dreamers, but only in case of emergency. There’s no skipping work on this gig.”

He could tell how earnest she was but couldn’t seem to contain his own doubt. “And what if you’re not sleepy at just the right time?”

“I’ve trained myself to drop off almost immediately as soon as they call. All I need is the right frame of mind and a safe place. Then I visualize the asteroid, and—”

“Damn.” He extinguished his butt in his coffee and lit another cigarette. “I wondered why you’d chosen the theme from
Close Encounters
as your ringtone. That’s just wrong, woman.”

She relaxed into a hesitant grin. “A twisted bit of lucid humor.”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to hold a meeting in somebody’s basement somewhere? Have one secure location?”

“The participating governments are adamant about keeping us, as individuals, apart. Part of the contract for protection we signed was to never associate with another member of the One Hundred.”

Of course. Keeping them separate would minimize their power. Wily bastards.

“And there’s no such thing as a secure location. It’s almost like people can tell something’s wrong. You know, like that feeling you get, that anticipatory oppression, when you feel a storm coming on? They sense something. And while the Temple is busy convincing them
we
are the threat, we can’t tell the truth without risking worldwide panic.”

Virtual daydreams versus a massive missile? It was an effing joke. “There must be surer methods of diverting the asteroid. The world’s scientists should be—”

“They are. They’ve already sent an unmanned spacecraft to intercept and impact the rock’s surface, something to deflect the asteroid rather than blow it up into pieces that might do nearly as much damage as a head-on. Hopefully, it’ll be enough. We’ll know within a day or so if they’ve been successful. The One Hundred are simply Plan B.”

He felt his heart thicken in his throat as her eyes glistened with a sudden sheen of tears. “But ohhh, Parker…can you imagine it? If everyone knew that we needn’t be impotent, just part of some cosmic pinball game? That we could play some part in forming our own destinies? And wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all the wars, the scientific advancements, the greedy, pointless grabbing for power—wouldn’t it be something if the dreamers of the world were the ones to save it after all?”

For the first time since they’d met, he saw true sadness on her face, the haunted look of near despair in her eyes. She twisted the fingers of one hand in the other as her shoulders slumped, and he realized what a toll this assignment must’ve taken on her. Two years of running and hiding and being one of the few to know the fearful truth. It would’ve been enough to crush a lesser spirit.

BOOK: Lucidity
12.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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