Embattled by Darlene Jones - HTML preview

Chapter 42

Review of Power 73-694,” the recorder announced as I came to a halt in front of the Council Bench.

“Is Earth a better place?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“There is less war, less killing, more caring, and more sharing of the planet’s wealth and resources.”

“She has maintained attention?”

“Oh, yes. Em is much more than a passing fad,” I said. “Each and every act is seen to be as fresh and as exciting as the first. I made sure of that.”

I had no way of knowing if my answers pleased or angered the Grand Council or if Earth was so insignificant to them that they were indifferent. I dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come. If they truly believed Earth was immaterial they would never have assigned the planet to a Power, not even to a novice like me.

“War has stopped?”

“Almost completely.”

“Isn’t that upsetting the natural order of things for Earth?”

“She’s already thought of that.”

“She has!” The voice rose. “You chose wisely then.” I glanced at Mentor and saw the slightest frown. I would have thought she’d be a little pleased.

Now I understood. The review was not about what happened on Earth; it was designed to measure my judgment and decision-making abilities as a Power. I would pass in spite of her assault on that odious being who called himself a man.

“You lied to her.” The voice of the Council Adjunct was deceptively calm. I squirmed under the stares of the Council members. There was no escape.

I lowered my eyes and my shoulders slumped. “Yes. Once.”

“Why?” The Chair of the Grand Council never asked questions at a review. My dreams of a grand and distinguished future dissolved. I swayed.

I felt Mentor’s hand jabbing me in the center of my back. I straightened and took a deep breath.

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“Her job was intense and complex. She obsessed about everything she did.”

My words fell into a stony silence.

“I could not let her hurt. She never deserved that.” Still there was no reaction. “She had such a consuming need for an end to her aloneness.” I stopped babbling and took a deep breath attempting to center myself. “She was so alone.”

“So, you gave her a lover,” the Chair said. “Yes,” I whispered.

Of course it was Mentor who had given her Ron. I hadn’t wanted any part of that.

“And let her believe their love was not manipulated.” The voice was low and soft but no less accusatory.

“It had to be.” A trace of defensiveness crept into my answer. I hadn’t wanted any part of Ron in Em’s life, but I knew that Mentor had done the right thing giving Ron to Em. I would thank Mentor when all this was done—before the ... end.

The Grand Council Chair cleared her throat. I realized the silence had stretched far too long. I started to say more, thought better of it, and hung my head.

“You cared about her that much?” And therein lay the problem, you see. I shouldn’t have felt anything for Em, much less, fallen in love with her.

“Yes.”

“Hum.” The Chair did not take her eyes off me. Mentor gave my shoulder a squeeze. I glanced at her in surprise. She smirked.

“Our first instinct was to banish you.” The Chair enunciated each word. “But….” Oh Guardian, execution then. I was to be executed. Visions of a guillotine, a noose swaying from a tree, a sword held high, a firing squad—all the horrific ways humans had of eliminating the unwanted swam before my eyes. What? What would they do to me? My mother’s face appeared as if through a pool of swampy water. No. Not water. Tears. Her tears. My tears. I moaned softly. Em, dear, dear, Em, my heart cried.

“But,” the Chair said, “Mentor has interceded on your behalf.” Mentor? Mentor … my behalf … What…!?

“Your lack of neutrality is a risk, we know, but Mentor reports that you have achieved the goals set for Earth. She recommends you be given a second chance. We have determined that her assessment is just and fair.”

Mentor? Spoke for me…? I looked at her. She smiled ever so slightly, tilted her head and winked.

“You will have your second chance. With conditions,” the Chair warned sternly.

A Power on probation. I knew the Council would be discreet, but word would leak out—the pitying looks from the other novice Powers, all of whom had passed of course—oh , Guardian, this was so hard to bear. If only I had Em at my side. Em to hug me, console me, be with me. Em. Em. Em.

I felt a sharp poke in the center of my back. “Stand tall,” Mentor said. Mentor gripped my elbow as we made our way outside.

“Here's the scoop,” Mentor said. She told me what she had promised Em, making her wish come true, using my voice, she said. Told me she always imitated me when she talked to Em. My voice made the promise to Em that broke my heart. Mentor said I had to know—part of the conditions for my next assignment, she said. Make another life for Em, Mentor said. Let her love him again, Mentor said.

*

During the interview, Ron had forced himself to suppress his anguish about Em’s control over him. Now, pushing his way roughly through the autograph seekers, he seethed with anger over the questions that had surfaced. The studio car was waiting for him. He asked the driver to lose the crowd and then let him out to walk. He needed to do something physical to dispel the insane urge to lash out. He was shocked at the intensity of his rage. He could not remember a time when he had felt such a violent need for physical aggression, such a need to strike out at another person. He didn’t think he could live with the possibility that Em had manipulated it all, that their love was a farce. His mind spun with a confusion of doubt and resentment.

Over an hour later Ron arrived at his hotel suite. The walk had not calmed him. In fact he was angrier at Em than he had ever believed possible. It was Em he wanted to hit, to hurt; it was Em who had played him for a fool. Nor was he oblivious to self-loathing for allowing it.

He opened the door and was bombarded by a whirlwind. Em threw herself at him kissing him everywhere and anywhere she could reach. He fought to stay angry but her mere presence overpowered all his questions, all his doubts. As always, when he was with her, she was his whole world; everything else melted away until there was only shining light and love. Anger, resentment; forgotten. He was left with the raging river of desire.

He put her down and cupped her face in his hands. She was so beautiful and he marveled, as he always did, that she was his. He bent to kiss her thoroughly, then hugged her close.

She pushed away and in turn held his face in her hands. “My love,” she whispered.

Ron was enchanted. She didn’t use endearments. This was the first time. Again the world melted away and there was only Em. She closed her eyes and ever so gently began an exploration of his face, her fingers moving slowly over his forehead, eyes, cheekbones, nose, mouth, and chin. She seemed to be taking a sensory image of him, storing him in a tactile memory bank.

Without opening her eyes, she undid his tie, pulled it off and let it drop to the floor, unbuttoned his jacket, vest, and shirt, and slid them off his shoulders in one motion to join the tie. She continued her exploration running her hands over his chest and around to his back. Ron stood perfectly still, absorbing her love through every pore as her mouth followed her hands and began an equal exploration.

She reached his waist and undid and lowered his pants. Ron watched as she continued her loving. Unable to keep his hands off her, Ron slipped off his shoes and stepped out of his pants. He knelt before her, pulled her sweater over her head and undid her bra. She removed her hands from him, only for the time it took to wiggle out of the clothing. He kissed first one eye, then the other. She pulled his head close and cradled it between her breasts. He looked up to see her eyes still closed, her expression sensual and expectant. He carried her to the bed where they made love, and even though it was slow and gentle, his climax was as sudden and urgent as that of youth. After all his times with her the power of it still stunned him.

They lay, arms and legs entwined, sleepy but not sleeping. As the afterglow of their lovemaking began to fade, the questions of Em’s control came flooding back. She had bombarded him when he walked in the door, effectively banishing those doubts, and he had fallen into the usual pattern of adoration and loving. How the hell did she do it? The suspicions returned. He felt sick at the thought that their love could be a complete mockery, that he was nothing more than a puppet on a string for her amusement. God, did he have no balls at all?

He pulled away from her and rose, found his pants on the floor and put them on.

“Ron,” Em called softly. When he didn’t respond she followed him. He was standing at the window staring out at the skyline. “Ron?” He turned to look at her, but he didn’t say anything. She picked up his shirt and put it on, wrapped it tightly around her body, hugged herself. He turned away, stared out the window.

“What is it?” She reached out with one hand on his arm. He stood rigid. “Ron, please, you’re scaring me.”

He spun to face her glaring so fiercely that she stepped back. “Em, did the Powers you talk of, did they control this? Did they make me love you?” He spit the words with more force than he intended but he wasn’t sorry. He choked off a sob as he turned away from her. He cursed. He didn’t want it to be this way. He wanted the blissful peace of belief.

Em held him, one hand on his back and one on his chest as if she could sandwich him in, make him safe, protect him from hurt. “You worried about that too?” she asked softly.

She stepped closer and reached for his hand. He didn’t resist but let his hand lay a dead weight in hers. She placed his hand over her heart, held it there with both of hers. She looked into his eyes, her gaze never wavered.

“I worried about that too, Ron. I worried that they made you love me.”

What the hell did that mean? She hadn’t wanted his love? She had been with him only to…? He glared at her in an agony of doubt and anger. She had taken him for a gullible fool. He had sat at her feet like a puppy dog, taking whatever crumbs she offered. “And you didn’t want that?”

“No!” He jerked his hand away and turned from her. So, he had been nothing more than a distraction. A goddamned boy-toy. He stared out the window seeing nothing.

After a long tense silence, he glanced around at her. She came closer but didn’t try to touch him again. “I wanted you to love me all on your own. I was terrified of the answer, I didn’t want to hear that they controlled you, made you love me, but I asked anyway.”

“They said?” He held his breath, dreading the wrong answer.

“Powers said no. Our love is our destiny.”

“You believe them?” He was still incensed, unconvinced.

“They never lied to me. They had no reason to.”

Ron turned back to her then, scowling fiercely and asked the question that, for him, would be proof. “Em, would you leave everything and stay with me?”

“That’s not a fair question.” Her tone held a sharp edge of pain.

“Your answer would be?” He pushed anyway, tested her, knew he was hurting her.

“I can’t.”

Ron stared down at her. She had tears in her eyes as she watched and waited. He was amazed at her patience. “If I had met you in your regular life?”

“We would never have met.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The Powers.”

“So we must be content with what we have?”

“Yes.”

“And make the most of it?”

“Ron that’s not a question. We’ve used our time together wisely and well.”

“No regrets?”

“None. You?” Ron shook his head ever so slightly. “Ron, look at me.” She spoke softly. “You must understand.” He nodded briefly, enough to encourage her to continue. “Our love is ours, Ron. Ours!”

“I’m supposed to believe the goddamned Powers had nothing to do with this.”

“Powers did not create our love. They did not control it. Nor did I.” She spoke slowly and steadily. “Our love is much too real for that.”

She would never know how comforted he was by her conviction.

He opened his arms. She moaned and flew into his embrace. He sighed. If she controlled this too so be it. He couldn’t live without her.

“Ron, my job is over, for now.”

He was instantly alert. One of Johnston’s questions had nagged at him. “Why now?” He had known her for over a year. They had been lovers for most of that time. Reporters hounding him had been a part of his life since they met. She had never suggested the interview before. Why now? A cold fear gripped his heart. “What does that mean?”

“I have done all I can. The world will be left to its own devices for a while. Miracle Madame will no longer exist.”

“You’ll be the regular you?”

“No, I….” Her voice was so low he barely heard the words. He pulled away abruptly to look at her.

“You mean you’ll… die?” He would never know why he was so certain that die was the right word.

She didn’t deny it and he panicked.

“No. Wait. You can’t. You can’t. I need you. It’s not enough. We need more time.”

“Ron, I must. I’ve known for a long time. Powers said.”

“Nooooo. You can’t go. You are my life.”

“Ron.” She admonished him gently and her voice was filled with longing. “Please, Ron, don’t cry. We have been the most fortunate of people. We have had a true love. Our souls will always be one.”

“You are the other half of me, Em. I can’t live without you.”

“You can and you will. You will watch your children raise your grandchildren. You’ll go to weddings and funerals and live your life fully.”

“And then?” he asked dully, already feeling the gaping hole of loss and the torment of grief.

“We will meet again. When the world needs us.”

“Em, I can’t. I can’t do it without you. I need you. The world needs you.” He held her face between his hands and in her eyes he saw an ocean of pain and he wept.

“Yes, you can,” she sobbed. “You can.” She kissed him softly. “I have something for you.” She found her pants on the floor and searched in the pocket and came back to him. She took his left hand and placed a ring on his index finger. It was a hunk of raw dull metal. It had the same unusual stone as her ring, the stone that had winked at him, surrounded by tiny diamonds. It fit perfectly. “We are in these rings and in each other. Wear it always.”

“With this ring, I thee wed?” he asked, his voice breaking. She nodded, her eyes full of tears. “Can’t we have just a little more time together? Please, Em. Please.”

“Oh yes,” she assured him. “We will have an eternity together in our next life, and the life after that, and the one after that. Now that we have found each other we are destined to continue our work, to be together forever.”

“How can you be so sure?” He wanted to believe her.

“Powers gave me a wish and that is what I wished for.” To her the answer was simple. Powers was never wrong. And she was gone, his shirt lying limp and empty on the floor in the exact spot she had been only seconds before.

“No! Wait!” But he was speaking to the air. “I never even got to cook dinner for you,” he sobbed through the tears that flowed freely as he collapsed to the floor, a blubbering heap where her clothes had been. A long time later the crying slowed and he dragged himself to the bed, pulled the covers to his chin and stared at the ceiling for hours. Finally he rose and showered, standing under the water, too numb now to feel anything. Drying

himself off he felt the ring. What had she said? We are in these rings. He looked down at the stone and to his amazement she was there, smiling wistfully through the tears streaming down her face. She blew him a kiss.

He blew one back. It was then that he accepted her words, with a certainty that settled deep in his soul. They would indeed meet again. More tears fell as he turned to the phone and dialed. “Tia? It's Dad. I'm coming home.”

The End

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