Thief (38 page)

It wasn’t quite over.

Finally he was told to concentrate again, to experience anew the life force running through him. Mikel obediently entered the trance like state, and then gasped with shock. For where once he had thought of these as roads he now found them all running like super highways. Bolts of lightning packed bumper to bumper, running smoothly along them, but still squeezed for space and with all their energies screaming like car horns in a traffic jam.

This time as he studied each and every one of them in turn, not only did the bolts seem to smooth themselves out but also the paths along which they travelled seemed to in turn become wider, allowing for the larger flow. Again it was nothing he seemed to consciously control. It was more as though the little sparks knew they were being watched and like soldiers on a parade ground, straightened instinctively for inspection.

This then he understood was the barbarian’s process of muscle building, and there wasn’t a steroid in sight. Increase the flow of nervous energy through each and every muscle and then let nature carry the proteins and carbohydrates to those sites and start building. It was like building the city streets first so that the buildings could be constructed accordingly.

“Hurt?” Mikel wondered if he’d gone mad as well as simple and nearly bit his head off. But he quickly controlled his temper, held his cool and checked his tongue, knowing that this was for his own good, and anyway he had only himself to blame. Besides he felt Sherial’s reactions to his most basic impulses and knew he didn’t ever want to feel her disappointment. That would be far worse. He limited himself to nodding, but had a sneaking suspicion the big man had seen and understood. Abrax might be almost caveman like in many respects, but he wasn’t as stupid as that would suggest.

“Do well. Do tomorrow as good.” And before he could respond, the big man left, perhaps understanding some of Mikel’s feelings towards him, or perhaps just wanting to be elsewhere. He needn’t have worried, even had Mikel still been mad. He was far too sore to move. Instead he just lay there, a giant mass of pain, knowing again that this was what he had asked for. He had to be strong, he had to be fast, and Abrax was the best and quickest way he could find to become it.

“A week?” He felt Sherial’s light laughter echoing lovingly through parts of him he’d never known even existed, and laughed with her. His body would be hard pushed to survive even another day of this torture. Yet he knew he would survive, and that tomorrow, knowing all that had happened today, he would do it again. And the next day, and the next. Whatever it took he would give. Surely he wasn’t fully sane?

“Am I a masochist? A lover of pain?” Sometimes it seemed that all he had been through     while on this impossible mission had been agony, yet still he continued like some demented clockwork toy, walking into brick wall after brick wall, never knowing when to stop and fall down.

Sherial laughed quietly in his very soul, telling him wordlessly that sometimes she had wondered the same, though never seriously. For all his pain was always for a cause, never was the pain itself the cause. That was one of the things she’d studied in him. It was part of what she admired about him, that he could push himself through the far end of agony to achieve his goals. For she could not, or at least she didn’t think she could. Angels did not normally experience pain, or at least she hadn’t until now. Instead, whenever the road became difficult they just called on their Father and their path became easy.

Mikel laughed at hearing her confession, and told her that she could endure any pain should the need arise, for he knew it to be true. He knew her even if she didn’t know herself. And in seeing her as she was, he finally understood how she and her kin differed from him and other humans. It was a profound difference.

At Sherial’s centre was a core of rock hard faith, love and truth, making her far stronger than mere flesh and blood. That’s what an angel was. At his centre and at the core of every mortal, was a smaller kernel of love and of those other qualities, and a gigantic aching need for so much more of the same, wrapped up in complex names like justice, love and equality. That was what drove him. It was what drove all men. Whether people sought money or power, love or justice, they were all driven by that inner aching need to be complete in their souls.

In that moment Mikel grasped that they were completely different forms of life, Sherial and he, and that the differences between them were greater than those between men and even insects. Yet love allowed them to also be the same, and to be with one another. That was the truest power of love.

A week to go. He answered Sherial’s rhetorical question. That was the target he had set for them all, and despite the hardship involved he still knew it was his target. For some reason it felt right, though what would happen if he took longer to prepare he didn’t know.

But at least that week would be the end. He was dog tired, the result of having spent almost every waking moment either trying to adapt the alien technologies to his and the other’s needs, or refining his own body and mind. Without Sherial’s support he would have collapsed days ago.

On the positive side, it had been some of the most interesting work he had ever done, not so much because of the technology which he barely understood anyway, but rather because of those he’d been speaking with about it. Atal had gone far beyond Mikel’s wildest dreams in his work, and now Mikel’s computers had logged on to a truly galactic internet.

All he had to do was ask for information on a particular curio, and he found himself getting a lesson on it, from one of the people of that world. In some way he understood everything that they said as though it were in English, and they in turn seemed to understand him. He knew that on the other end, these people surely couldn’t all be using computers, in fact many of them had no recognizable computer technology at all. But that didn’t seem to bother them.

As strange as the knowledge of each world might be and as valuable as the information they could give him was, it was truly the people that interested him most. And they were all people, though many of them were far from human. Two arms, two legs and two eyes. That was as far as the physical similarities between them went. Some had fur, some scales and some skin. Several had tails, a few had fangs, and many had other strange appendages such as tendrils, leaves, and even antennae. And these he was informed, were only a selection of those technologies and those peoples, in this part of the universe. Elsewhere, it got much stranger.

But despite what they looked like, it was what was inside that counted, and they were all roughly similar. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in their words, and feel it in their souls. One and all they all helped him with their own unique knowledge, and not just because the angels had asked them. They wanted to help. They knew the mission, understood the basics of the plan, and agreed with it.

Mikel would have spent all day speaking with them if he could have, little of it to do with the mission. He was endlessly curious about them, and they too shared that same feeling. But he didn’t have the years he would need, and so time and time again he had to cut them short. But he wasn’t alone in that. There were three computers in the workshop, and the other villagers were also doing their share of communicating as well.

Hermen in particular was in heaven, the ever-curious scientist in him having taken control. He had moved in some of his own ‘computers?’ from his own world, and was now downloading more and stranger data than any he had ever imagined. For a while Mikel had worried that the scientist might be doing something he shouldn’t, especially by taking the data back to his home, But Sherial had simply laughed, and he realised this too was part of the plan. Not his plan, and probably not Hermen’s either. There was more going on than either of them understood, but Mikel knew now that whatever it was, it would be alright. Given a choice, Hermen wouldn’t leave the workshop, choosing not to sleep for the entire week. Mikel couldn’t blame him.

But priorities had called Mikel away repeatedly, as he had to train, or eat or sleep. He would have skipped it all, but Sherial wouldn’t allow that. She and he had gone through a role reversal somewhere. Together they had worked out a schedule for him, and she made sure he kept to it. Sherial was a firm taskmaster. It was as though she had decided she had to be the practical one, having discovered that he couldn’t any longer. Every so often as he was chatting, he’d get a quick message from her to stay focussed, as she brought him back on track, or a reminder that it was time to eat, exercise or sleep.

In some way she had become a mother to a curious child, and he would not disobey. He knew that in her heart Sherial was looking out for him, terrified that she might lose him, and knowing that every moment he spent working improved his chances. She would not allow him to fail, and he in turn would not let her down.

Between the two of them they were forming a single will, stronger than either, and Mikel had to obey. But he shared in that will, for their needs and their desires were one. When Sherial brought him back to reality, he thanked her for it.

When he had time - which was seldom - he intuited that Sherial’s new found role was the result of her closeness with him, particularly with the thief. For while the thief might in many respects be a separate, almost cold personality, that unshakeable discipline, strict logic and rigorous planning was the core of how he operated. And now Sherial was learning and using those same skills. Thankfully he knew she would never accept the thief’s paranoia and coldness to herself. The one time he had asked, she had just laughed gently, and he knew his concern was groundless.

In a strange way he knew Sherial was benefiting from the thief’s persona. It would never be an identity for her as it had become for him for far too long, but it was a tool, and one she enjoyed using. Once the dark part was gone, the distrust and the cynicism, the logic and planning were a revelation for her. One she could use, perhaps to even better ends than he could.

It was wonderful to know that his skills could be shared with her, to know that he could give back at least a little of all that she gave to him. For through her he was learning to see the universe in a whole new way, and that gift of understanding was worth more than he could even say. He could want nothing more than to see everything through her eyes for eternity. And if he could lend her a little of his own skills in return, that was only right.

The ache of his tortured muscles brought him back from his daydreams, and he gritted his teeth once more, focussing his mind. The pain would pass, in a few more hours, and it was time for him to rest. But it was difficult to rest with so much energy screaming through his flesh, while his heart and soul yearned to be with Sherial. He reached for her as she reached for him, knowing the wrongness of their separation. They should be together.

As before it was as though the sun had come out again as he felt her with him, and they shared their love. And then it went further. Somehow Mikel took his mind completely off his pain by joining Sherial where she sat, something he hadn’t known he could do until that moment. And yet it was simple. All he did was think of her, know her love, and ask what she was doing. She welcomed him to her and the rest was an automatic miracle. He saw with her eyes, felt with her body, and understood with her mind, while his own flesh went into a complete rest.

Sherial was in a glade surrounded by her adoring fan club. Behind her he could hear water flowing, and the smell of fresh wild flowers surrounded them. The air in her lungs was a delight, and the sun warmed her back, for which she thanked the creator.

It was a strange sensation living inside her body, different in so many ways and yet also utterly familiar. She was strong, supple and winged, but perhaps most confusing of all, female. He tried not to think about it too much, the confusion of being both male and suddenly having female organs too awkward for him to deal with. It was also incredibly exciting, for both of them. Sadly they both knew it could go nowhere for the moment. There was work still to be done, and they needed both their bodies to enjoy this wonder properly. But there would be other days they promised each other.

Compared with his own body he adored the precision with which she moved. She was a Swiss watch compared with his own crude sundial, and yet he knew through her that she in turn admired his body. Its large size and power and the lightning fast, trained reactions he’d developed over the years. She even liked his body hair.

It takes all sorts he told her. They both laughed.

In Sherial’s lap a possum was receiving her blessing, and he looked through her eyes at the tiny creature. It was a revelation. For instead of a small furry animal he saw a tiny soul wrapped in a furry envelope. Delicate, beautiful, innocent, the little creature knew nothing of the harshness of the world, nothing of the intellect, nothing of anything human or divine. The small creature knew only the love of the angel in whose lap she sat.