Elspeth! I needed Elspeth. She was the only one who could help me. I sent a message for her to come, then cancelled it and sent another saying I’d come to her. We met halfway, in the central gazebo which was blessedly vacant.
“Yves, what is it? Your call was so loud my ear vibrated.”
I thought I’d masked my emotional unease, but it had obviously leached into my message. “Elspeth, this is very … personal. You’re the only one I can talk to about….” Guardian, this was so hard.
Elspeth reached over and took my hand in hers. Her touch soothed me. “Take a deep breath.” I did. “Another.” I did. Very calming, this breathing business. “Now, can you talk?”
I nodded. “I’ve been watching them, Em and him.”
“Her lover.”
I gulped. “Yes.”
“What do you need to know?”
“Everything!”
Elspeth appeared to stifle a smile. It wasn’t funny. “Like?”
“Well, you and your guy...? Do you know things about him without him having to tell you?”
“Often, yes. I can sort of intuit what he’s feeling or thinking.”
So Ron wasn’t the only one. “Are you suffused with a warm glow when he plans something for you?”
“Yes. It’s like we have a connection.”
“Ron and Em do too. But I didn’t put it there.”
“No one has to ‘put it there.’ It happens with love.”
That was what I dreaded hearing. So, Em did love him. She would tell him things. But not everything. Ron was a pathetic fool to expect otherwise. Her loyalty is to me. Me, first and always.
The way she had turned inward, away from him, away from the world. She turned to me then, I think. At least that’s what I hoped. Ron felt momentarily bereft and alone. I knew those feelings, too. Feelings I’d never experienced before knowing Em.
Ron had stared at her while she was lost to him, trying to imagine the disconnect she described between the two halves of her life. He wondered what lurked beneath the surface of her calm. I could answer that. Me, Ron. Me. I’m here. I’m the one who keeps her sane.
“Yves.” Elspeth tugged at my sleeve. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. I just needed to know….”
“Love is hard sometimes,” she said. “But wonderful too.” She blushed. I hoped her boyfriend knew how lucky he was to have my sister’s affections.
“If you’re sure you’ll be okay, I have to go. My art class starts soon.”
I sat for a long time after she left. I had more to worry about than my feelings. Em had revealed much to Ron that I hadn’t been careful enough to see. And she had been right to confide in him for he heard not only her words, but felt the ominous dark colors of her emotions. They were heavy and sinister, those blacks and blues, like bruises on her soul.
The memories she had, diminished her somehow, made her appear smaller, tired, forlorn; a soul overburdened, less superhuman, contrary to everything Ron knew her to be. Contrary to everything I knew her to be. It scared me a bit and yet I knew she needed to work through this— without me.
*
“I had no idea. I never knew how deeply she felt, the agonies she went through.”
“You weren’t attentive enough,” Mentor’s words stabbed through my heart. “You didn’t delve into her subconscious.”
“But that’s so invasive.”
“Invasive!” Mentor snorted with what could only be termed disgust. “You’re too damned emotional. I warned the Grand Council. A Drone!” She snorted again. “It’s your job. What happens down there and what will happen—under your tutelage—is all that matters. One little human with all her stupid fears means nothing. Got that?”
I nodded weakly. She turned to walk away. “Wait!” I called after her.
Mentor froze mid-step and turned back ever so slowly to face me. “Yes?” One little word, but never had I heard her voice so caustic. I knew I should apologize, let her go, but I couldn’t. I had to know. I took a deep breath.
“That’s just it,” I said. “I’m a Drone. I mean I was a Drone, my parents, my grandparents, all of us. Why did the Guardians choose me to be a Power, to do their bidding on Earth? Was it because I had studied Earth since childhood and I knew the planet better than anyone else?”
“Oh for…. Anyone could study the planet and do your job—any of the other Powers.”
“Why me?” I persisted. I had to know.
“The Guardians are experimenting and you’re their guinea pig.”
I’m sure I stood there with my mouth gaping for she gave a snort of laughter. I guess I seemed pretty pathetic to her.
“But … but….”
“Apparently they’ve been accused of being racist and they want to dispel that notion.”
“Guinea pig?” I stammered.
“Tag, you’re it.” I could have sworn I heard her laugh as she walked away.
*
Em stood in the circle of Ron’s arms for the longest time. Finally she dared to look up at him.
“My mind plays ‘what if’ relentlessly.” She gulped, swiped furiously at tears, and spoke slowly.
“I try to see things as right or wrong, black or white. But human dynamics are much too complex to be judged that way.”
“Are they really? I believe we’ve made life way more complicated than it needs to be.” Ron turned the burner on to heat the pan. “Perhaps simple is what the world really needs.”
Em stared at him. “Oh God, Ron. You may be on to something but how can I know it’s that easy? I know so little and the more I experience, the less I know. I know nothing about foreign policy, international relations, and the balance of power. I know nothing. If all the experts can’t agree, how can I possibly know?” Thousands of years from now will war prove, in some horribly twisted way, to have been a boon to mankind? Maybe war is part of the natural selection process, a warped version of survival of the fittest.
Em took several deep breaths, fought against the steel-band feeling that encased her chest, and counted to ten.
Power. Control. Greed. Hitler, Milosevic, Idi Amin— dozens of names came to mind. No country was immune. Some were simply more subtle or more vicious, their weapons and strategies more elaborate, more sophisticated.
And, didn’t countries, in some ridiculously perverse way, prosper during wartime? “Stocks climb with onset of war.”
“Explosive rally in stock markets as investors bet war imminent and inevitable.”
“There is no longer any uncertainty that war is coming and as a result stocks rallied today.” The headlines drummed though her brain.
What had Dallaire said? “Do you kill children who kill? And if the answer is yes, can you live with that?”
Put that way, how could there be anything good about war? “God damn fucking war!” She squeezed her eyes tight and tried again to control her thoughts. Everything stilled momentarily and then exploded again in terror. Fuck!
“Em?” Ron called urgently.
“What if…?” She kept her face averted. “What if war is a good thing? Maybe humans aren’t doomed to kill each other. Maybe they are destined to.”
He pulled the frying pan off the burner, grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a little shake. “Em, no!”
“What if war serves some useful purpose?” She persisted. “What if I’m actually making things worse?”
“Em, you talk about the powers you feel control you. Don’t they determine what is right? Don’t they take that decision out of your hands?”
She paced, twisted her hands in an agony of doubt. What if there are no Powers? What if I’m deluding myself? What if? There were too many what ifs. “If it is Powers, maybe they’re wrong. Maybe they don’t know either. Maybe Powers don’t exist and I’m using the idea of them as a ruse to defend myself. I don’t know. I don’t know.” She could hear the desperate edge in her voice. Ron held her tighter. She thought she would cry, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. If she started she’d ever stop.
She wrapped her arms around Ron’s waist and held on tightly. “If war is necessary and I stop it? What will replace it? Something much worse?”
“Shush,” Ron soothed. “It’s okay.” He repeated the words over and over until they became a lullaby. Finally, she relaxed and sagged in his arms. He guided her to a chair and knelt beside her holding both her hands in his.
“Em, are you okay?” He examined her closely.
“I think so. Yeah.” She was shaky, her face flushed, and her breathing labored. “I’m sorry Ron.”
“Don’t! Don’t ever apologize, Em. I’m glad you feel you can talk to me.”
She shook her head. “I'm sorry Ron. I’ve spoiled our morning.” She put her fingers over his lips when he started to protest. “Ron, having you here makes all the difference. I can’t explain it. I just know I need you.”
“Miracle Madame needs me?”
“No, I need you. Me.”
She could almost hear his unspoken thoughts. Who is “Me,” Em? Who is the woman I love?
“I am what you see and who you have come to know. No more.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Em. You’re way out there compared to the rest of us. How can I ever hope to match that?”
“You don’t even have to try. I exist in two different halves, but I don’t change. Only my job changes. Both my halves need you. Please, Ron, you have to believe me.”
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly and she knew he’d need more reassuring. “Em, there’s something I want to ask, but….”
“You’re afraid of the answer?”
He nodded. “Yes. Are there others?”
“You mean do I have a sailor in every port?” She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “No, just you.” She toyed with the belt on his robe. Ron, however, was not to be sidetracked.
“Why me?” Ron asked. “You could be with anyone. Certainly someone much better looking, younger, more virile.”
“Not more virile surely? Three times last night.”
“I haven’t been this horny since high school.” He grinned widely. “In fact we could make it four.”
She let her eyes grow wide. “I have that effect on you?” He blushed. She reached under his robe to caress him, grinned wickedly and pulled him down to the floor.
*
Now, see that confused me. Em had met so many men and had let them flirt with her. Then there was François. She really liked him but not “that way.” So, why was it different with Ron?
They made love. On the floor! They lay, panting, her head on his chest, her legs entwined with his.
You are mine, all mine,” a voice deep inside him growled fiercely.
I recognized the voice. It was mine. I hadn’t known my thoughts could be transmitted like that.
“Be more careful!” Mentor snarled.