Season of Strangers (34 page)

And the rest of you?
Panidyne asked.
Do all of you feel that way?

A female council member responded.
I certainly do, but I am concerned for the commander's safety. No one has undergone Unification for such an extended period of time. I think the sooner he is returned aboard the
Ansor,
the less chance there is that something may go wrong.

Panidyne agreed.
As a matter of fact, I noticed several behavioral changes in Commander Zarkazian when he was last aboard. At the time I ignored them, but now, as you say, his safety may warrant a quicker end to his mission
.

The council member's reply held a note of sarcasm,
Which of course has nothing to do with the fact you would like to bring the Ferris female back aboard the ship for more testing.

Val's stomach knotted. Panidyne was fierce in his quest for knowledge, even more fierce than Val.

It would seem the most expedient way to accomplish our mission.

But as the commander has several times pointed out, it is also extremely hazardous for the woman.

Panidyne made no reply. Instead, his transmission read,
Your comments, Commander?

Val took a deep breath, knowing how important this was. They already had his most current report, which had been sent from his apartment yesterday afternoon. Reporting to the council during their session was strictly a formality, yet it couldn't be dispensed with. And somehow transmitting live gave him the opportunity to explain matters that were difficult to express in a formal report.

Cracking open the journal that lay on the seat beside him, Val reviewed events to the present date, omitting only the confrontation he'd had with Julie.

One of the council members transmitted the moment he had finished.
All of us have been properly impressed, Commander, with the information you have gathered. But some of us, including First Council Panidyne, feel your have not sufficiently succeeded in your original assignment—finding out why the subject under study, as well as a number of others before her, were able to resist our highly sophisticated scanning equipment. First Council Panidyne suggests your return and a resumption of testing on the Ferris subject, and many of us concur. No.

We are concerned for your safety,
Panidyne replied.
Unification for this length of time is bound to have certain side effects. None of us know exactly what they are. We suggest you end your mission and let us bring the woman back aboard
.

I said no!
The symbols flashed across the small screen with the impact of a blow.
You will not bring Julie Ferris back aboard this ship. You will not destroy her or any other human being like her
.

No reply appeared on the screen. He knew they sat there stunned. No one on Toril showed any sort of emotion, any sign of anger, and even though they couldn't see him, it was clear how strongly he felt.

There will be no need for such an action
, Val added, hoping it would lessen his harsh words.
I have come to know the subject more intimately than any other being I have ever encountered. I can tell you what is different about her—about the other Earth subjects who have been able to resist the probe. What these people have in common, what makes them so different, is a thing they call determination. It isn't a word Torillians know. It means to be adamant, to assert one's will in the face of any and all adversity. It means having a strength of purpose so strong it can overcome any obstacle in its path. Combine that determination with courage, perhaps a bit of faith, and you have a force to be reckoned with, a power beyond anything a Torillian has ever been faced with.

The council made no comment and Val's very human heart beat painfully his chest.

I have come to understand this word
determination
as the rest of you cannot. I can feel it even now, thrumming through my body, giving me the strength to send this. That determination is driving me to speak when before I would have remained silent. It gives me the will to oppose you when every fiber of my being, every cell in my body has been schooled against it. It tells me I have to convince you the testing of humans must be stopped, that the destruction of people's lives isn't worth the high cost of the knowledge we are obtaining.

Val sat there behind the wheel, willing them to understand, wishing he had made the journey and stood before them in person.
If I have learned anything at all during my time on Earth, it is that humanity—in all its diverse forms—is too precious to be tampered with. It is not our right to do so any more than it is another life-form's right to tamper with ours.

He knew what they were thinking, that he was no longer the being they knew, that he was behaving like someone from another world.

Which in fact, he was.

He was no longer simply Val Zarkazian. He doubted he ever would be again.

The screen lit up.
Your concerns have been noted. Thank you for your comments, Commander.

The screen went dark. Val hoped the council would remember that their purpose in coming had never been to do harm to the people of Earth.

He thought of the council members, both male and female, he had worked with for dozens of years. They seemed unfamiliar to him now, as foreign as Patrick's penthouse apartment had once seemed. By now the members knew that something about him had changed. Silently he cursed. The fact that he was angry and frustrated showed him how different he actually had become.

Val wondered if that change would enable his colleagues to see what he had been so desperately trying to make them understand.

 

Julie phoned Laura as soon as she had showered and dressed the next morning. It was earlier than usual. She hadn't been to bed at all last night, had if fact barely slept for the past three days.

At that early hour, Laura's voice sounded groggy and strained. “Hello?”

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Get out of bed and get dressed. Yesterday I closed a big fat escrow and today we're going to spend the money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about shopping. You know, shop till you drop? Never say die till the stores are closed?”

“Shopping? Julie, have you gone insane?”

“The whole world's insane. No one knows that better than you and me. All I want is a day—just one single day—to forget how crazy the whole world is.”

Laura went silent. If Julie had hoped to hide the misery her jovial words were meant to disguise she must have failed mightily.

“If that's what you want,” her sister said softly, “then that's what we'll do.”

And so they had the valet at the Beverly Wilshire park Julie's Mercedes and Laura's aging Volkswagen bug, and set off down the sidewalk. The sun was out, but a stiff wind shoved papers along the street. It looked as if a storm was moving in. Shouldering their way through the crowd of Saturday shoppers, they made their way toward the front doors of Saks Fifth Avenue on Wilshire.

As they passed through the cosmetics department, the fragrance of Bulgari drifted across the counter. Julie had always liked the exotic scent, but today it made her sick to her stomach.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Laura asked as they reached the second floor, her pretty features drawn with worry. “You don't look so good.”

Julie tried to smile but it came out forced. “You always did know how to cheer a person up.”

Laura rolled her eyes as Julie pasted on a smile and headed for the escalator. An hour later, they had bought three new outfits apiece, including a leaf-green silk skirt and blouse for Laura and a cranberry-red Chanel suit for Julie. They bought half a dozen pairs of Ferragamo shoes, lacy bras and panties, bags, hose and cosmetics.

Laura hefted the heavy shopping bag sitting on the marble floor at her feet. “All right, where to next?”

“Let's put this stuff in the car and just start walking. We'll head down Rodeo Drive, see what looks interesting.” Both women's arms overflowed with packages.

Julie could barely see above the stack she held in front of her as they walked back to the car.

“Rodeo Drive? That's pretty pricey, isn't it?”

“What difference does it make? We just bought half the stuff in Saks.”

“Saks is one thing. Rodeo Drive is something else.”

“I told you money wasn't an object. I said we were going to buy anything we wanted. That's exactly what I intend to do.”

“Julie, this is crazy.”

“That's what you said when I called.”

They went into Gucci, but didn't buy anything, Laura rolling her eyes and confiding to the salesgirl she wasn't really the Gucci type. Then they hit Valentino and Tiffany's, and wound up in a dressing room at La Mode trying on outrageously expensive evening gowns.

Standing in front of a tall oval mirror, Julie smoothed the bodice of a floor-length navy blue silk gown trimmed in matching dark blue sequins. It had narrow straps, a slimming waistline, and a long, slender skirt split up the side to mid-thigh. Except for the hem, which would have to be shortened, the dress fit as though it were made for her.

“Wow, sis, that dress looks absolutely terrific.” She frowned. “Tell me you're not going to buy it.”

Julie flashed an overbright smile. “Why not? You just told me it looks terrific.”

“Come on, Jules. You've never bought a nine-thousand-dollar dress in your life.”

Julie ran her fingers over the delicate silk. A slight tremor shook her hand. “Lately my life has changed.” She turned sideways, surveying herself in the mirror. The gown was truly remarkable, setting off her dark red hair and green eyes, not to mention what it did for her figure.

But as she stared at herself in the mirror, all she could think was where would she wear it? Owen Mallory could take her to the kind of places where people wore gowns like these. Patrick would have taken her if she had wanted to go.

But Patrick was no longer there.

Something burned behind her eyes. She was looking at her reflection but her image began to blur and she could no longer make out the beautiful lines and curves. Hot tears welled, began to trickle down her cheeks.

She felt Laura's arm around her shoulders. “Let's go home, okay?”

“I have to talk to him.”

“I know you do.”

“Today. I have to talk to him today. I have to understand, Laura. I have to know why this is happening to me.”
To both of them,
she silently corrected.

Laura just nodded. Julie knew her sister wanted to understand, too. Maybe Patrick could help them both.

Standing like a mannequin, Julie let Laura help her change out of the beautiful silk gown into her brown slacks and cream silk blouse. Once she had slipped back into her loafers and fastened the buckle on her belt, Laura handed her a small gold compact.

“Here. You smudged your mascara.”

“Thanks.” Julie wiped the black streaks away and ran the powder puff over her red nose and flushed cheeks. She put on fresh lipstick and ran a comb through her hair.

“Thanks for coming today.” She glanced up at her sister. “I really needed you.”

A good six inches taller, Laura bent and hugged her. “It felt good to be needed, Julie. I'm glad I could help you for a change.”

Julie smiled, thinking how much stronger Laura seemed lately. “Let's go get our cars. Then I'm going to see Patrick. I'm going to the office and confront him.”

“This isn't going to be easy. I'll go with you if you want.”

Julie shook her head. “Thanks, sweetie, but this is something I have to do myself.”

A
s luck would have it, Patrick wasn't at the office when Julie arrived. She had been primed to face him, her blood running high, every nerve ending alert. He was out with Fred Thompkins, Shirl said. She wasn't quite sure when he was scheduled to return.

The adrenaline slowly faded, and now as she slumped in the chair behind her desk she just felt nervous and tense. Her mind kept going over the things she had read in the journal, the questions she wanted to ask, the answers he might give. Mostly, she just wanted to see Patrick's face, even if the face wasn't really his.

The light stiletto click of a woman's heels sounded but Julie barely heard it. Then the door slammed open and Babs walked in.

“All right, what the hell have you done to him?”

“Who?” Julie sat up straighter in her chair, trying to gather her wits, but it took a gargantuan effort.

“Patrick. He must have lost ten pounds in the past three days. He isn't sleeping. He barely speaks to anyone. He sure as hell isn't eating. I'm worried about him, Julie. I can't believe I actually feel sorry for the man, but the truth is I do. What in God's name have you done?”

In her flashy magenta pantsuit, her striking features tense, Babs marched across the office. She frowned as she drew near, her sleek black brows pulling together over eyes nearly as dark as her hair.

“On second thought, you don't look a whole lot better than he does. Honey, what the hell is going on?”

Julie shook her head, fighting back tears. “Patrick and I aren't seeing each other any more.”

“Yeah, well, I already gathered that. What happened? Was the SOB cheating again?”

“No, Babs, it's nothing like that. I wish it was something that simple.”

“So tell me.”

She wished she could. God, did she ever wish she could. If she even tried to explain, Babs would think she'd gone over the edge. “We've just…we've just decided to go our separate ways. It's the best thing for both of us.”

“Somehow I don't think Patrick would agree with that.”

“Please, Babs. You're my very best friend. I'd tell you if I could, but this is something Patrick and I have to work out by ourselves.” That was beyond the truth. Telling someone Patrick Donovan was really a man from outer space was a good way to wind up in the loony bin.

Babs cocked her head toward the door, catching the sound of approaching footsteps. “Well, here's your chance. I think he just came in, but I doubt he intends to stay for long. You better hurry if you're going to catch him.”

Julie just nodded. Her adrenaline had started pumping again the moment she had heard the rough-smooth cadence of his voice.

Shoving back her chair, she took a deep breath for courage, and walked past Babs into the main part of the office. “Patrick?” It came out high and a little bit squeaky. She cleared her throat. “Patrick, could I have a moment, please?”

His eyes found hers. They were a more intense blue than she had ever seen them. “Of course.”

She followed him down to his office, but neither of them took a seat. Finally he motioned her toward one of the black leather chairs in front of his desk. Julie sat down and Patrick took his usual seat in the high-backed leather executive chair across from her, deciding, she supposed, to allow some distance between them.

“I'm glad you came.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desk. “I've been worried about you.”

“Have you really?” A brow arched up. “Just because I happened to discover the man I loved is actually an alien from outer space—why would you possibly be worried?”

His mouth curved faintly. She noticed, as Babs had said, there were faint gray smudges beneath his eyes and his cheeks looked hollow and pale.

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“In love with me?”

A shot of anger rippled through her. “I was in love with Patrick Donovan. Where is he, by the way? You said you didn't kill him.”

He sat back in his chair. “Patrick killed himself. I merely borrowed his body.”

The breath whispered out of her lungs. She sagged back against her chair. “Patrick is dead?”

“Not exactly. In a number of ways, Patrick is still here, sitting right in front of you. I'm all the things Patrick was—his memories, his dreams, his likes and dislikes. But I'm also Valenden Zarkazian. I don't live the same life Patrick did. I don't believe in that sort of behavior.”

Julie digested that, or at least she tried to. She had read the explanation in his journal, but hearing him say it aloud made her somehow more able to accept it. “I don't know what to call you…Valenden or Patrick?”

“At home I'm mostly called Val, but you've always called me Patrick. I used to love the way you said it…the way you looked at me when you did.”

She felt like crying. Dear God, she refused to cry in front of him. “I came here as you asked. To hear what you have to say. I have no idea what will happen after that.”

He smiled but there was a sad, regretful twist in the line of his mouth. “I'll tell you whatever I can.”

And so he began, telling her first about Toril, about how far away it was from Earth, and how Torillian travelers had long ago discovered Earth's existence. He told her about his life as a scientist, about his research, and that they had been studying the planet for quite some time.

“We had no choice but to come here,” he said. “Your technology has gotten way out of hand. Your nuclear discoveries, combined with your interest in space travel, makes Earth a threat to other populations. We need to learn about the people of your planet in order to protect ourselves.”

“Space travel—if it ever really happens—is still well into the future. You said yourself that even if we could figure it out, it could be years before we break the light speed barrier. How could we possibly pose a threat?”

“Innovation comes when one least expects it. Think about radio waves and how rapidly their discovery altered communications. Think about computers and cell phones and how they've changed the face of the world. A breakthrough could come at any time. Even now your scientists are working in that direction.”

He was talking about Dr. Stover and the charts they had seen on the university walls. NASA wanted to send a manned mission to Mars. Expeditions to other planets might follow. Nothing seemed impossible anymore.

“What about Laura and the others?” she asked, feeling a shot of the old anger. “How could you let your people do those awful things? How could you let them hurt her that way?”

He shook his head. “At first I didn't understand. I was one of them. I believed as they did, that what we were doing was necessary to advance the cause of science. Once I understood, I've tried to make them see how wrong it is. I hope I succeeded, but I'm not really sure.”

She could see the regret, the pain, and something softened inside her. “How long….” She fought down the high-pitched note in her voice. “How long will you be here…as Patrick, I mean?”

He looked at her with those blue, blue eyes. “A little over a week. My greatest regret is that I'll have to leave you.”

Her heart wrenched hard inside her. “Don't say that…please.”

“Why not? It's the truth. I love you, Julie. Until I came here, I didn't know such a thing existed. Now I can't imagine living life without you.”

A thick lump rose in her throat. Her heart beat painfully inside her chest, making an ache swell there. She looked at him and saw Patrick. Patrick's beautiful face. Patrick's lean, hard-muscled body. She saw a man of intelligence, a strong man, a caring man. She saw a man of principle who had gained the respect of the people around him.

“I don't…I don't even know what you look like.”

“If you're asking if I have two legs, two arms, two eyes, two ears—the answer is yes I do. Torillians are a mental race, Julie. We're not as physical as you, but in other ways we aren't so far apart.”

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. She hadn't thought seeing him would make her feel this way, but she had been wrong. “It said in your journal that you've grown to like it here, yet you still plan to leave.”

He straightened a little in his chair. “Earth is a place of great beauty, of even greater passion. It's unlike anyplace I've ever known, unlike anything I could ever have imagined. I'm fascinated by the strength of its people, by the challenges they face each day and overcome. But my time here is almost ended. I have to go back to Toril. I don't have any other choice.”

Her heart ached. His handsome face began to blur. Oh, God, she was going to cry. She blinked to hold back the tears, determined that he would not see. “What…what will happen to Patrick when you're gone?”

Concern darkened his features, regret and something more. “He'll die, Julie. Just as he would have before.”

Her eyes slid closed. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Patrick would die. She would lose him all over again. The thought sent a shaft of agony straight into her heart.

“What about you?” she whispered. “What will happen to you?”

He glanced away, the skin taut over his high cheekbones, pain making his features look harsh. “I'm not sure anymore. Since I came here, everything about me has changed. I can't imagine living a life without bright colors and explosive sounds, without exotic foods and violent storms. In the time I've been here, I've known great joy and great passion, experienced great sorrow. I've learned to feel things I never knew how to feel before.”

He shifted in his chair, leaned toward her across the desk. “And there is Patrick. Patrick and I have bonded in a way I never expected. The memories he carries will never leave me. Not through all the days of my life.” His eyes came to rest on her face, caressing her almost as if he touched her. “But mostly I'll remember you, Julie. And I will love you always, from the deepest part of my soul.”

A sob escaped, a cry of anguish erupting inside her. Without a glance at Patrick, she leapt up from her chair, turned and raced for the door.

“Julie, wait!”

But she didn't stop running. She could hear him calling her, hear his heavy footfalls behind her, but she didn't slow. She raced out of the office, across the parking lot to her car, and jerked open the door. Through a haze of tears, she glanced one final time in his direction, saw him standing alone beside the door.

Her heart tugged painfully, felt like it was tearing itself apart. It took sheer force of will to climb into the car and turn the key, to pull the car into gear and drive away. She felt battered, beaten. Felt as if a great hot stone was burning a hole in her chest. There was no hope for them, yet her mind kept whispering his name, urging her to go to him. Reminding her that in a few brief days he would be gone.

It didn't matter, she told herself. Patrick was already dead. She didn't even know this man. He wasn't even human.

But she couldn't make herself believe it. Instead every time she closed her eyes she saw Patrick telling her his greatest regret was that he would have to leave her. That he would love her always, from the deepest part of his soul.

 

The storm had finally arrived. It was a day late, much to the weatherman's chagrin, but the ground was so dry and parched the Earth itself seemed grateful for the life-giving moisture.

Julie stared out the big glass windows toward the gray, turbulent sea and the brooding clouds beyond. Wind whipped the waves into white-capped peaks and rattled against the windowpanes. Rain pelted the sand on the beach below, turning it a muddy, discolored brown. Soon the dull edge of light beyond the clouds would fade and without moon or stars the house would be shrouded in blackness.

Thinking of Laura, and of the things she had read in the journal, Julie wondered if she should be afraid.

She felt no fear, only numbness. And the constant ache for Patrick that wouldn't go away. She had thought of him every moment since their confrontation three days ago, had told herself a dozen times that the man she loved was gone from her life for good. Patrick wasn't Patrick. The Patrick Donovan she loved did not exist.

But as she had watched the storm, entranced as always by its dark, majestic power, she couldn't help thinking how Patrick would have chafed at the storm's intrusion, and how the man named Valenden would have loved it.

It occurred to her in a way it hadn't before that it wasn't really Patrick that she had fallen in love with. The best parts of him, perhaps: his physical beauty, his charm and warmth—but the qualities she loved most about him belonged to Val Zarkazian. She wouldn't be drawn to one without the other, but together they were a man unsurpassed by any she had known.

The question nagged—did who he was really matter? The man she had loved was the tenderest, most caring individual she had ever known. He was strong and courageous and deeply committed to helping the people around him.

And she was still in love with him.