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The Virtual Season - Episode Seven Roughing It - Part II By Blue Raven Teaser Cole found it much easier to spend several hours with Mel in a sleeping-bag when his attentions were firmly fixed elsewhere. In this case, he was almost relieved that there was an unknown fugitive in close proximity and with undeniably bad intentions. Definitely enough to distract him from being 'distracted'. For a while, at least. Mel absently ran one hand over his chest in her sleep, smiling. "Mmm... So warm." Cole smiled uneasily. "You're so good at keeping me warm," she mumbled into his chest. Cole closed his eyes. Her breath tickled! He adjusted to that in time to become aware that she was trying to get one of her legs over and around his. His eyes shot open and he looked down at her sleeping face, wondering how to proceed. His mind was screaming at him to get up and leave, but his body simply refused to budge, especially when the hand on his chest began tracing random patterns through the sensitive hairs there. He closed his eyes again when her leg finally made it all the way around his, and she began pushing on his chest with her hands and the rest of him with... other things. "Come on..." she muttered, snuggling closer and trying to make him roll onto his back. Cole slipped his hands off of her back and very gently pushed her away, not wanting to wake her. It was still dark out, after all, and she had not gotten much sleep with the storm. Mel grumbled in her sleep at this, but did not allow herself to be deterred for long. She simply squirmed around in the bag until his hands were in more suitable locations, her smile widening. With one hand now positioned on her throat, he caressed without thinking, doing his best not to think about where his other hand was at all as he quickly withdrew it. Mel seemed satisfied with his caress of her throat, so he continued that. That, at least, was safe. "Mmm... Cole..." she groaned, smiling. "Ooh, that feels so good..." Cole's hand froze. Definitely not safe. The sound of her voice was having a very bizarre effect on his body tonight. Parts of it, at least... She covered his hand with her own. "Don't stop, Cole," she begged. He flattened himself against the far end of the sleeping-bag, staring at her with wide eyes. He shook his head, willing her to dream about anyone else: that Bobby person, or Vic... Just not him. Not here like this. Not deterred, Mel simply closed the distance between them and snuggled more firmly into his chest. And her leg was doing that thing again, Cole realized with something verging on panic. No, he realized, panic giving way to horror. This time her leg was trying to nudge its way between his... He drew in a shuddering breath, trying to push away her suddenly wayward hands. He closed his eyes again, swallowing hard, fighting to compose himself, to ignore the fact that his body was doing things it had never done before, trying to think. He just needed to think! No easy task with Mel nuzzling his chest, moaning his name at intervals, and generally trying to make herself very familiar with the way this body of his was put together. He suddenly knew what Mel meant the time he had overheard her talking to Gail about this male habit of not thinking with your brain because all of your blood was... elsewhere. He would not have suspected that there was quite so much room 'elsewhere' for blood. Oh, and her hands felt marvelous as one traced its way down his chest, the other up his legs, and... "Mel!" he gasped, giving her a rough shake and rolling quickly onto his stomach. "Mmm?" she murmured groggily. She half sat up, suddenly alert. "What's wrong?" she hissed. Cole took several deep breaths, his entire body trembling. "You were dreaming." "Dreaming?" Mel's eyes widened as she recalled what she had been dreaming about. Who... "You were crying out. I was worried." It was true. Sort of. In a manner of speaking... Mel heaved a relieved sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry, Cole. I didn't mean to worry you." "I know, Mel. It's okay." He gave her a reassuring nod, not moving from his stomach. He was still having a very strong physiological reaction. Trying to seem casual, he directed, "Go back to sleep, Mel. It was only a dream." "Yeah." She nodded and stretched out next to him again. "Sorry." "It's okay, Mel," he assured her. It would have been a lot more okay, he felt, if they could have acted on it. But not yet. And not like that. "Do you need me to put you to sleep?" he offered. "So you won't dream?" "Yes, please." Mel nodded quickly. He might not have caught on to what she had just been dreaming about, but he was a smart man. Given a repeat performance... "Please." Cole nodded and gratefully moved his hand over her face. "Sleep well, Mel." "Thanks, Cole." Cole sighed as he put her to sleep. "Any time," he muttered, exhaling deeply. He nodded sharply to himself. Mel was asleep; problem solved. Except for this very bizarre human male physiological reaction that was just refusing to go away. Damn. It was going to be a long night... End Teaser Act 1 Breakfast was cold and of the pre-packaged variety. The wood was wet and Mel was far more interested in checking the tent for signs of sabotage than in getting flame to take to wet kindling. In spite of Cole's assurances to the contrary that morning when they had talked and planned in the sleeping-bag, Mel was convinced that the Dessarian was to blame for the collapse. Cole spent much of that time pacing the perimeter of the clearing, agitated and hoping that the Dessarian would stray within range. "Well, figured out why the tent came down," Mel announced with a sigh. Not sure whether that sigh indicated sabotage or not, Cole hurried across the clearing. Mel pointed to a tent-peg, sticking out of the ground at an odd angle. "When it started raining, the ground got wet, so the pegs..." "Were not as able to handle the pressure on them." Cole nodded. Mel nodded, wondering if that qualified as an I-told-you-so. "So between that and the wind..." She shivered as a gust of icy wind whipped through the clearing. "Better and better," she growled in frustration. Cole reached to touch her throat, wanting to soothe her, but thought better of it. Neither of them needed that right now. "It's going to be okay, Mel. We have many warm clothes packed." Mel stared, startled for a few moments. Cole had just balked at touching her. When in the past year and a half had he done anything like that? And what would make him start now? She looked up, startled, as Cole said something in Cirronian, his voice low and tight. She did not need to know the language to guess that he was swearing. His tone made that more than obvious. She frowned at yet another first from him. "Are you in there swearing?" Mel asked, bemused, leaning into what was left of the tent. In answer, Cole just held up what was left of the G.P.S. device, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "When the tent collapsed, the cross-beam must have landed on it." "Can you fix it?" Mel asked hopefully. The Cirronian sighed and shook his head. "No, Mel. I don't have the equipment." Frustrated, he started packing. "Mel, did you move my cell-phone?" "Why would I move it?" she asked, frowning. "I don't know, Mel. Did you?" "No." She shook her head and joined him. "Are you sure you're looking in the right place?" "Yes, Mel. I remember checking to see if it was there before we broke camp yesterday." Mel closed her eyes. "The map?" she asked in a low voice. "That was in the tent." He rose suddenly, nearly colliding with Mel who was also heading for the downed tent. "Got 'em!" she announced triumphantly, holding up both the holographic map and the paper one. Cole sighed in relief. Mel was not so greatly cheered. She sighed in frustration, tears in her eyes. "Mel," Cole said softly, closing the distance between them and sliding his arms around her waist. He hated seeing Mel upset. He rested his forehead against hers and murmured soothingly, caressing her throat with one hand. Hating to break it to her, he confessed in a low voice, "I think we have a problem." "Only one?" came the whispered reply. Mel could not help but smile. All hail Cole, king of the incredibly obvious. "I can not get us out of here with just a map, Mel. Can you?" Mel swallowed hard and shook her head. "We're screwed!" she announced, starting to pace the clearing. Cole tilted his head at her, watching with a faint smile as she stomped around the clearing ranting. Mel caught him smiling at her and spun on him. "You find this amusing, Cole?" she demanded. "No, Mel." His smile widened and he shook his head. "Not at all." "Then why are you smiling?" she shouted, glaring at him. He shrugged. "It's just that you're very beautiful when you're angry, Mel." Mel stopped in mid-rant, staring. Only Cole. She spun 180 degrees on her emotional axis and slid to her knees, her body shaking with hysterical laughter. Shaking his head and feeling perplexed, Cole stared at her for a moment before moving to her side and gently tugging her to her feet. Still laughing, she wrapped her arms around him, hanging on to him for support. "Mel, we still need to decide what to do," he pointed out mildly, holding her close. "What to do?" she repeated, composing herself. "Get the artifact, Cole, of course." "But how?" he asked softly. "Mel, without the G.P.S. we're... guessing at best." "I know, Cole. But..." She shrugged and looked up at the sun. Thinking for a minute, she picked up a charred stick and traced a cross in the mud. "North, south, east, and west," she told him, pointing. "We're just going to have to use the sun and the moon to get our bearings." "Not very precise, is it?" he asked, frowning. "It's as precise as we're going to get, Cole." She shrugged. "How hard can walking in a straight line be?" "And if it gets cloudy again?" he asked, not sure if her idea was a good one or not. "Then we stop and wait until we can see the sun again. Cole, you told me last night that we were like a day's walk from this thing..." Which meant that the Dessarian was within a day's walk of it. And knew it. "We go forward." "But how do we get back out?" "We pray that when we don't call Maggie in three days she calls the Forest Service to come rescue us. God, I'm an idiot," she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "No, Mel." Cole shook his head. "You are not an idiot." "Look at this situation I got us into," she muttered, shaking her head. "Mel, we both knew that things might go wrong. It is not your fault that the G.P.S. was broken or that the cell-phone is missing..." He trailed off, aware that she seemed more upset with every word. "Mel..." "I'm so sorry, Cole," she whispered, shaking her head. "I am so far over my head..." "Shh," he comforted. "Please don't be upset, Mel," he whispered. "I don't like it when you're sad." "What are we going to do?" she whispered as he slid his arms around her. She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest. "We're going to find the artifact. And pray that when we don't call Maggie in three days she calls the Forest Service to come rescue us." He nodded. "It's going to be okay, Mel," he assured her. "We should go." Mel nodded and walked over to the tent to start packing. *** The Dessarian Tisan watched the scene in amusement. She had heard many stories of how well the Tracker and his 'human' mate worked together. Watching them disintegrate from a well-oiled team into a pair of lost near-hysterics had definitely been diverting. The human's mood-swings definitely kept things interesting. Daggon's skill at dealing with them told Tisan that they were a frequent occurrence. Of course, then there were Daggon's reactions to her. Those were fun, too. The human's mere proximity was enough to blind the Tracker to the fact that he was being tracked himself. He kept casting longing glances her way, looking more like an adoring, love-struck adolescent than like the experienced man of the universe he was. Yet at the same time, it was clear that her proximity was also vaguely frightening to him. If last night's display was any indication, he had a serious problem with her touch as well, even as she seemed to demand his. Very strange. The destruction of the G.P.S. had been a stroke of ill-luck for all of them. Tisan had planned for them to reach the artifact without incident before she struck. She was ill-prepared to find her own way out of the forest, having relied on Daggon to lead her this far in. She had moved prematurely in relieving him of his phone, too. They were now stranded without a life-line. She contemplated returning it to his pack, but realized that, even in the face of this latest round of difficulties, she could ill afford to reveal her presence. They still seemed clueless and it was her only advantage against them. She was outnumbered and outgunned. Concealment remained her only advantage, even if it seemed likely that her strategy would have to change. She could not decide which was better, to take the human first or the Tracker. It might not even be a matter of choice but of circumstance, which one was vulnerable to her first. She had planned on taking them both as soon as they recovered the artifact. Now that the G.P.S. was out of the equation, she was going to have to leave one of them alive long enough to lead her out of this wilderness. For preference, the Tracker should be the first to go, since he was the greater threat, but she could not count on him to make himself as vulnerable to her as the human might. On the other hand, the human definitely had more experience in Terrestrial wildernesses than Daggon... Shaking her head, she moved from the cover of a tree to the cover of a rock formation. Keeping one form of camouflage for too long could be tiring, not to mention making the façade harder to shed down the road. They were almost done packing now, and would be moving soon. With luck, they would have reached their objective within a few hours. *** "Okay, I think that's everything," Mel told Cole, double-checking their packs. He nodded and helped her into her pack, slipping her Collector into the back pocket of her jeans before moving away. "Yup, sure feels like everything," Mel said, nodding. "You have your things?" He nodded. "Think so, Mel." "Okay." She nodded. "What's the map say?" "North, north-east, Mel. For a quarter-mile." Mel nodded, glanced at the cross she had drawn on the ground for a moment, then pointed. "This way," she told him, her voice wavering slightly. This was never going to work. Cole followed, feeling more confident than Mel. The Cirronian was a believer in Fate. After all, Fate had brought him to Mel, and her to him. That was no coincidence. Fate would not let them down, not now, after they had been through so much together. He was firmly convinced that they both could have been blindfolded and picked their direction at random and would still find the second Key, and it showed. Smiling, he counted off the appropriate number of steps. "Here, Mel. Now we turn due north." *** Tisan shook her head in disgust. They were actually relying on this primitive form of navigation to bring them to the Key? It was beyond belief. She might as well kill them both now, take the map, and try to find the damned thing herself. Of course, the human knew how many feet were in a mile and how many feet were in a step, which made her somewhat more well-equipped than Tisan to actually reach their destination. Now if she would just stop rambling on about basic resourcefulness and ingenuity being so much better than technology... She was definitely going to be the first to go, Tisan decided. End Act 1 Act 2 "Lunch-time!" Mel announced cheerfully. "Now, Mel?" Cole asked. "But it should only be a little while longer before we reach the caves." "Cole, look up." She gently explained, "It's noon. The sun's at its peak. We can't navigate until it dips." "Oh." Cole nodded and unshouldered his pack before moving to help Mel out of hers. He picked his up and moved it very close to hers, sitting down near them. "You know, I actually think that we never really needed the G.P.S., Mel. This method does seem to work quite well." Mel smiled and flushed, fishing a few protein bars and some granola bars from her pack. "Well, let's wait until we have the Key to decide that," she suggested, tossing him her canteen. "And, of course, there's still the tiny little matter of getting out of here." "I actually think we can do that, too, Mel," Cole told her with a smile and a nod. The birds were silent again, the Dessarian close-by. Since Mel had mentioned it, Cole had become more mindful and had definitely felt her life-force more than once when she got too close. She was being sloppy because she did not think they knew about her. This was their advantage. Eijan, the Enixian who had trained him when he first became a Tracker had taught him that, that a single criminal could do more damage to himself with carelessness or cockiness than a legion of Trackers with the combined resources of the Migar Alliance behind them could ever hope to do. The Dessarian's life-force was not the only indicator, either. There were the birds, of course, but also one other. Dessarians absorbed the smells of their environments and this one, in some indefinable way, smelled like the city of Chicago, the breeze off the lake mingled with the smells of the factories and stores and cars and people. It was subtle, not something you would notice unless you were looking. He had not even known that Dessarians absorbed the smells of their environment until Eijan has pointed it out to him. Enixians, with their heightened senses had an easy time picking up on such things. It had taken him a great deal of training, but Eijan had been very patient and he had eventually developed a sense of olfactory discrimination almost on par with hers. Cole rubbed his mouth to get Mel's attention and then shifted his eyes in the Dessarian's direction. With a few blinks of her own, Mel indicated her understanding. It was a crude system for keeping track of her, but it worked quite well. Eijan would have approved. One or the other would become aware of her and indicate her location to the other, and they would both keep a subtle eye on the area, looking for movement or other untoward happenings. After a moment, Mel scratched her chin and shot her eyes in another direction, informing Cole that the Dessarian was on the move again. It amazed her that, in less than two years, they had become so good at communicating non-verbally, so adept at reading each other's signals. They had been able to develop this system that morning in the sleeping-bag with only a few minutes discussion and then they had spent the entire morning carrying it off flawlessly. The Dessarian was good, Cole reflected as he absently transferred a few crumbs from the wrapper to his mouth, but not good enough to overcome the combined efforts of the two of them. There were few in the universe who were that good, especially now. Now the Dessarian was up against not one but two Trackers, for Mel truly had become a Tracker in her own right the day she saved Isabelle. She was different; she had changed. It was indefinable, really, the transition from a rookie cop to a veteran. Indefinable or not, though, it was there, telegraphed in every move she made. Confidence, a sense of purpose, an awareness of her place in the greater scheme of things. Cole could not help but feel proud of her. It was so beautiful, the change in her. After a life-time of aimlessness and confusion, Melanie Porter was finally coming into her own. And she was glorious. The Dessarian was quite good, Cole decided as they walked, turning his attention from Mel to their 'shadow'. Looking back, he realized that she had not been following them since they had left Chicago. The smell alone gave that away. He was growing careless, too. He would have to display more discretion in the future. Cole knew that she was staring directly at the Dessarian, even as she seemed to be staring at a different patch of woods behind his shoulder. He focused his mental attention on that point, studying the life-force he felt there, doing his best to ascertain which, if any, of the fugitives it was. Tisan. Damn, she was just dangerous. It had taken three Trackers to bring her in, and Eijan, who had been among them, had been hurt so badly during the capture that she had been forced to take a desk-job afterwards, never able to actively Track again. She had been one of the best, too. Her injury had been a tremendous loss to the Tracker Corps. He knew that Tisan was capable of killing, and of doing so remorselessly. The only reason they were still both alive was because she wanted the second Key and knew better than to betray her presence before they had it. The thunderstorm had been fortuitous. If the tent had not gone down at just the 'wrong' moment, Mel would never have detected her presence. Fate once again seemed intent on helping them. He smiled faintly as it occurred to him that Eijan had been a strong believer in Fate herself and that she was primarily responsible for Cole's own faith in it. He had been thinking about her a lot since realizing that it was Tisan after them, he realized. He had not seen her since the night of Rhee's escape, when she had urged him against going after the Vardian. She had told him that something in the situation smelled off. She had been right, too. He could have used her insight just lately, and her abilities as a training officer would have been a tremendous asset in Mel's training. More, though, he missed her quiet friendship. He missed her probably more than anyone other than his friend Bendal. If Tisan was not taken shortly after they had the Key, they would both be in tremendous danger, especially at night. She was a dangerous foe, and he had no guarantee that he would be able to overcome her on his own. He silently indicated to Mel that the Dessarian was on the move again. He was going to have to warn her about Tisan before they were confronted by her. Mel had gone up against Dessarians before, but never one like this. He wanted her to be prepared. Actually, he would have been happier to have her out of it altogether. In this situation, though, that was impossible, no matter how badly he might have wished it. Besides, she was a Tracker now, and a Guardian. This was as much her fight as his own. More, in many ways. But he did want her to be prepared. Even preparing her fully might not be possible if they found the Key before nightfall. So what to do, how to proceed? He needed to make her understand that this particular Dessarian was likely the most dangerous foe she had ever gone up against, and he needed to make that point forcefully. *** Mel stepped on a twig, snapping it. In front of her, Cole jumped. Mel frowned. He had been getting progressively more on-edge since lunch, and she was afraid that the Dessarian would notice if he did not stop soon. "Cole, would you stop that?" she sighed. He turned to face her with a sheepish smile and a little shrug. It was about time that she noticed that he was acting strangely. "Sorry, Mel. Thinking." "Thinking," she repeated, shaking her head. "Yes, Mel, about Tev and Zin and Sudor..." He glanced up at her, hoping she would make the connection. "Think about what we're after instead," she suggested, shaking her head. "And Yhir," he added, seeming not to hear her. "And Vax." Mel blinked, aware that he was reeling off the names of every fugitive who had ever attacked her. "Why are you thinking about that now?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably. She wanted to yell at him to stop. He was not just making her nervous, either. He risked tipping their hand. "Just... wondering how soon we'll face other foes like them." Mel frowned. He was getting at something, trying to tell her something, she realized, without their newly acquired shadow understanding. "They were all pretty nasty guys." "Yes, Mel. But there are worse enemies out there." He blinked and shot his eyes in Tisan's direction. Mel nodded, getting the message perfectly. "Yeah, Cole. Definitely more dangerous characters out there." "Of course, with your help, there is no foe I can not overcome," Cole added, approaching her and searching her eyes. Mel nodded, grinning up at him. "Well, I'm here for you, Cole, no matter how bad the bad guys get," she told him honestly. And she did not just mean the here and now, either. Cole smiled, pleased. She understood. And she would always be there for him. "Thank you, Mel." He touched her throat lightly and kept walking. "Sudor was... not like many of the fugitives, Mel," he said as they walked. "In what way?" she inquired in what she hoped was a casual tone. "He was crazy, Mel. The sane ones worry me more. They're more deliberate, more dangerous." "Yeah, I can see where that would be the case," she agreed. "Of course, they also know that they have a lot to lose. They don't want to be caught, so they're more cautious, more likely to run if they're losing. Right?" "Sometimes, Mel. But not always. Sometimes it just makes them even more vicious fighters." "Hmm. I guess I can see that." Mel nodded thoughtfully. So this Dessarian was a wicked fighter and unlikely to flee. Not the best news, but at least now she knew. Perhaps because, in the past, her most frequent contact with a Dessarian had been with Nestov, she had always considered Dessarians rather twitchy creatures, the sort who would flee before they would allow themselves to get pulled into a confrontation. Oh, well. Forewarned, forearmed. "Tev is a good example of this, Mel," Cole contributed after several minutes of silence, shivering at the mention of the Nodulian. Mel shivered with memories of Tev's attack. "Bad situation. Everything to gain, nothing to lose." Cole nodded. "Exactly, Mel. He fought very hard rather than willingly be taken, but he never tried to flee. He could hardly afford to." He lapsed into silence again for several minutes. "Of course, there's another lesson to be learned from Tev." "Several," Mel agreed. Safe sex being right up there, she thought with an internal smile. "Like what a screw-up Nestov can be. And how well we work together." "And that I would never willingly let you be hurt." He paused and turned to face her again, caressing her throat, troubled by the memories of Tev's attempt on Mel. Not caring that they were far less alone than they seemed, he gathered her into his arms. "I didn't like it when you tried to get close to him, Mel," he said quietly. "It was a stupid thing to do," she agreed. "But now I know better." And she was infinitely more capable than she had been this time last year, a real Tracker in her own right. "Yes, but I still worry." Remembering what they were up against now, he lowered his face, resting his forehead against hers. "She'll make an attempt shortly after we have the key," he whispered before tenderly kissing her for several moments. It was the only way to make their position and his whisper seem less suspicious to Tisan, but it was not the only reason he did it, either. "I worry a lot," he added in a louder voice. He continued holding her, caressing his throat and struggling to return his attention to the here and now. Mel stared at him with wide eyes for a second before deciding that the kiss had been for Tisan's benefit, an opportunity for a few whispered words. Acting too startled would blow that for him, so she composed herself, trying not to look as moved as his kisses tended to leave her. Hell, even the fake ones left her reeling. She gave him a shy smile, not trying to pull away because she was not entirely sure of her own ability to remain upright if she did so, especially if he kept touching her like that. No wonder her dreams were so often punctuated by Cole's big, strong hands. They were amazing, capable of making her feel so much. Her smile widening, becoming less shy and more inviting, she let her eyes drift shut and her head fall back, allowing him freer access to his throat. Cole continued caressing her throat until they were both quite calm, memories of Tev and Sudor and all of the others banished. Even then, he continued on until his growing distraction threatened to manifest itself physically again. Sighing, he pulled away, releasing her warm, yielding body, letting his hand fall away from her throat. "We... should," he began haltingly, his voice shaky and even more quiet than usual. He was more 'distracted' now than he had been after their very first kiss. "Yeah," Mel agreed with a sigh, nodding. This was a bad time, a bad place. Some day, she prayed, the time would be right. Just... not yet. With another sigh, she took the map from his hands. "We should be there soon if we hurry." She turned the map 90 degrees in her hand and stared at it again. "I think." Cole smiled and turned the map another 90 degrees, smiling and moving to stand at her left shoulder, pointing. "Very soon, Mel." "Inside a cave," she muttered, shaking her head and trying to ignore the warmth the was pouring off of him in waves and the amazing, indefinable smell that was just so... Cole. "Yes, Mel, inside a cave," he agreed, doing his best to ignore the feel of her life-force, its inviting state. "According to Alan's papers and everything Wahote told me, it will be in a cave." "You think it'll be easy to find?" "I don't know." Cole shook his head helplessly, aware that he had managed to lose Tisan. "We should... go now. Keep our eyes opened." Mel nodded, scowling as she too realized that they had lost Tisan. According to the map, they were practically on top of the cave. The odds were good that the Dessarian had not been particularly interested in watching them 'necking' in the forest. She could easily have found the cave by now. And the Key. End Act 2 Act 3 Tisan had, indeed, been less than interested in watching Mel and Cole kissing, or in their subsequent embrace, but she had remained to watch them, strangely fascinated by the bizarre display. It was the same kind of sick draw that caused people on the highways to turn their heads to get a better look at a car-accident. The romantic prattle had been just sickening. This display was sickening as well but, at the same time, riveting. Considering how hard the Tracker had tried to keep her from touching him last night, this was just confusing. Why was he trying to initiate a romantic encounter now? So close to their goal? It made absolutely no sense. Obviously the Cirronian was slipping. His time among these monkeys, living as one of them, was having a very negative influence on him. That thought pleased Tisan no end. It was good news for all of them. Let him start thinking like one of them, putting sentiment before duty. Let him grow complacent and careless, especially careless. And, especially, let him grow to love this not-quite-human woman. That would be best for them all. Tisan knew from experience that there were more forms of currency than simply money. So let Daggon grow to love his pet mongrel and, in time, perhaps her life could be the coin that purchased his non-interference. It would be wonderfully ironic, considering that his interference had started in the first place because he had once loved a woman. She was pulled from her reflections by the sound of the Tracker's voice. "I worry a lot." Tisan shook her head, watching as he displayed his affection for her in a much more Cirronian fashion. It took the human woman a few moments to relax into this display, leaving Tisan to wonder. When the truth of the situation occurred to her, she had to stifle a laugh. They truly did love each other, yet they did not have a physical relationship. Imagine spending a year and a half actually living with the object of your desires and being frustrated all the while. Unbelievable! Well, if nothing else came of this trip, she would have an amusing tale to tell the others. Her smile widened as the Tracker said something about keeping their eyes opened. Shaking her head, she followed. "So, the cave should be around here somewhere?" Mel asked. "It should be." Cole nodded absently. "What if it's locked somehow?" she asked suddenly, frowning. Stillness where there had been movement a moment before told her that the Dessarian had heard the question and was as disturbed by the thought as she was. She rubbed her lower lip until she had Cole's attention, then indicated the Dessarian's location with her eyes. Cole mouthed an acknowledgment and joined her. "There is always that possibility, Mel. We'll know when we find it." "Oh, that's comforting. What do we do if it is locked up somehow?" "We find a way to unlock it," Cole told her, confused. "Right..." Mel sighed and nodded. Ask a stupid question... "Don't worry, Mel. I'm sure that if there is a lock it will be a simple one. After all, it's very old." "Mmm... Kind of like the Vault under my bar?" "That did have a very simple lock, Mel," Cole pointed out mildly. "It required only one Key and anyone could open it." "Um... good point." Mel blinked. It sounded so reasonable when he put it that way. Cole smiled, amused. "Don't worry, Mel. Not about that." "Right." Mel nodded. There were definitely bigger things to be worried about right now. "Let's, um... keep moving." "Okay, Mel," he replied absently, already walking again. Mel followed, keeping her eyes peeled not only for the cave but for their Dessarian friend. "Cole, there!" Mel pointed to a dark area visible through the trees, completely forgetting about anything else in her excitement. "Cave," Cole said, nodding and starting towards it. Mel followed close on his heels, not bothering to try to relocate the Dessarian. Looking back would just look suspicious at this stage in the game. She was just going to have to keep all six senses opened and hope for the best. They came out through the tree-line and found themselves staring into a large, yawning cave. "Damn," Mel muttered, disappointed. "You're upset, Mel?" Cole frowned in confusion. She nodded. "Yeah, Cole. This can't be it. It's so... obvious. Who in their right mind would hide something this important in a cave this easy to find?" "Perhaps Cirronians, Mel?" he suggested gently. Mel looked up at the man who had kept the first Key sitting in plain sight on his bookshelf for months and slowly smiled. "Cirronians," she repeated, smiling. "The most trusting species in the universe." Shaking her head, she started into the cave. Cole caught her arm before she could cross the threshold. "Trusting, Mel, but not stupid." He bent and picked up a stone, tossing it into the cave. A web of lasers shot out of the wall. One hit the stone, disintegrating it. Three more tossed stones quickly met the same fate. Mel frowned. "That's going to make getting in a little more difficult," she said quietly. Cole smiled and nodded, amused by her habit of stating the obvious. "A lot more difficult, Mel." He regarded the cave mouth thoughtfully for a moment before nodding and taking her arm. "Come on, Mel." "What?" she asked, startled. "Where are we going?" "This is not the cave." Cole shook his head, his voice tight. "Um, so... your fore-bearers just put in the deathtrap for fun?" she asked with a frown, following. "As a diversion, Mel." "Since when do Cirronians do diversions?" Mel asked, frowning. "For about 70 millions years now, Mel. Remember, trusting but not stupid, Mel." She blinked, following. His voice sounded funny. It took her a moment to realize why. He was lying! He absolutely sucked at it, too. This was definitely their cave. So why was he leading her away? What was he thinking? Oh! Time to deal with the Dessarian. Smiling, she followed Cole. "Maybe we should split up. It would make the search go faster." He turned to eye her meaningfully. "Yes, I think you're right." Mel nodded firmly. Outflank the Dessarian and catch her by surprise. Perfect. "And we should keep talking so I'll still know where you are," Cole told her. "You can tell me a ghost-story," he suggested, smiling. "In the middle of the day?" Mel laughed. Cole shrugged. She did not seem to think that made sense for some reason. "Tell me what it was like to camp with your father, then," he suggested. "So I'll know where you are." And so would the Dessarian. Mel nodded, grinning and winking up at him. Turning to leave, she began to tell Cole about her summer camping-trips with her father. She expanded on how much like an adventure it had felt to a young woman, roughing it for a few days or even a whole week, as she slowly moved, circling around the Dessarian. The Dessarian was between them. Mel could feel her. "I haven't found any caves yet, Cole." "Come back then. I think I found one. I'm enjoying the story, keep going." Mel continued her narrative, aware that the Dessarian was on the move. She had started in Cole's direction as soon as he had said that he had found another cave. Mel started in another direction entirely, flattening herself against a rock outcropping, right around a corner. "Oh, my God!" she shouted. "Cole, I found it!" she yelled. "Oh, my... Come look!" she added, pulling out her Collector and hoping she sounded adequately enthusiastic. Obviously she did, because the Dessarian who came sprinting around the corner did not even bother with any attempt to camouflage herself. Mel was still registering triumph over this fact when another fact entirely deflated her sense of accomplish. She was still wearing her damned pack... "Damn!" she muttered, turning to face the unencumbered Dessarian, trying to look as though she was not in the least troubled by the fact that she had probably half mobility and about 50 pounds strapped to her back. The Dessarian spared her a moment's shocked appraisal, aware that she had walked, or run, into a trap. Shaking it off, Tisan lunged at Mel who instinctively raised the Collector and spun out of the way. The latter was a bad move on her part, she realized as she found herself looking up at her opponent from the ground. If she had just held her ground, the Dessarian would have thrown herself directly onto the Collector. As it was, with the heavy pack beneath her, Mel was beached like a whale. "Cole!" she shouted. "Little help would be--" she trailed off as Cole seemed to step out of thin air. Hyper-speed. Trailing off like that had been a bad move, too, Mel realized, kicking herself, because the Dessarian now knew he was nearby. She turned to face him, leaving Mel for later. "Tisan," Cole greeted her quietly, buying himself a few precious moments to make sure that Mel was unharmed. "Daggon," she sneered. "Hello. And goodbye." Mel winced as the Dessarian hurled herself at Cole. He had been right, she realized quickly from her forced perspective. This particular Dessarian was a vicious fighter with absolutely no intention of being taken alive. Still, she refused to back down. It made her more dangerous, would give her the edge until she was badly hurt. Cole seemed to realize this, too, and he threw her across the clearing and into the rock outcropping. Mel heard bones breaking, but the Dessarian scrambled immediately to her feet and lunged at Cole again. Mel made a mental note to review the definition of 'not crazy' with Cole at the next available opportunity, because this woman was fighting like a psychotic, heedless of pain and interested only in causing damage. Until the second time Cole threw her into the rock wall. Then she changed her strategy. Scuttling across the ground, she was kneeling next to Mel in an instant, cradling the helpless woman's head in her arms. "Let her go, Tisan," Cole ordered carefully, aware that the Dessarian could easily break Mel's neck. "You let her go, I let you go. How does that sound?" he asked gently, extending his hands away from his body. Tisan sneered at him again, well pleased. She had been right about this woman's life being a negotiable asset. "Toss me the Collector and we'll discuss it." Cole complied and Tisan's smile widened. "'Trusting but not stupid'?" she mocked, shaking her head. Which was when Mel realized that Tisan had never seen the other Collector in her hands. The one that was still clutched in her hand. "Never stupid," Mel assured her, slamming her arm up and back and into Tisan's chest, ignoring the fact that she had just dislocated her shoulder in the process. Tisan howled as Mel struggled to finish the Collection. Her arm suddenly hurt too badly to move very much and the result was an incredibly protracted, and painful, Collection process. "Cole, help," Mel called. Cole slid his hand into Mel's and retrieved the Collector, but was not much faster about the Collection than Mel herself had been. His expression spoke to grim satisfaction as he slowly ripped the Dessarian's life-force from her host's body. Mel remembered that expression all too well from their encounter with Tev. She stared up at him, shocked, as he finally finished and allowed the body to fall to the ground. "Eijan sends her regards," Cole told the body gently before kneeling next to Mel. "Are you injured?" he asked gently before trying to move her. "Mostly just my pride, but I think I dislocated my shoulder," Mel managed. Cole nodded and gently probed with his fingers for a few moments. "This may hurt, Mel," he told her gently, two seconds after slipping it back into place. "Agghhhh!" Mel howled. "Jeez, Cole!" she hissed.
As Cole gently wrapped both Cole smiled, allowing a little more energy to pass into her than was strictly necessary. That sound reminded him of the ones she had been making in her sleep last night, when she had been dreaming of him, of them. "Better now?" he whispered, caressing her throat. Mel did not immediately answer, enjoying the touch. She was aware that she was suddenly and completely at his mercy if he should decide to take advantage of the situation and she found that she did not mind in the least. In fact, she found herself very badly wanting him to. She could feel her life-force calling to Cole, encouraging him in that course. Because her eyes were closed, she was not aware when the invitation manifested itself in the form of a subtle glow hanging around her like an aura. Cole recoiled at that, his butt hitting the still-wet ground with a comic-sounding 'thwack'. The tension thus broken, they both began laughing. "Oh, great," Mel giggled, the glow fading. "Now we're both doing our best impressions of turtles stuck on their backs!" Shaking his head, Cole hauled himself to his feet before bending and taking both of Mel's hands, pulling her easily to her feet and into his arms. "Next time you face a fugitive, Mel, try to remember to take your pack off first," Cole suggested, his eyes sparkling. His smile faded as he became aware of how badly she still wanted him, and how badly he wanted to accept the invitation that her life-force was still extending. "Let's go find that cave," he suggested, reluctantly pulling away. Mel sighed and nodded. "Yeah, cave." End Act 3 Act 4 "So, how do we get past the alarm-system?" Mel asked as they stood staring into the cave. She was absently tossing rocks at the laser-grid as she spoke, enjoying the light-show and hoping to drain the battery or something. Like a battery that had not had its charge drained by millions of years of inactivity was going to drain this way. It was, though, at least, something to do. "I mean, if this were TV or a movie, there'd be some path through the lasers. I mean, you'd have to be a contortionist or have a stunt-double, but it would be possible to get through. Somehow, I'm doubting that here." Cole nodded. "I don't think they would bother with such a method of defense if there was a way through, Mel. And since not one of your stones has made it through, either..." Mel nodded. "So what? Is there another way in, you think? A back door?" Cole shook his head. "No, Mel. Something else, I think." He paused thoughtfully. "They would not want to chance anyone other than a member of one of the Guardian bloodlines or another Cirronian getting the second Key." He sighed. There had to be a way through, he was just not seeing it. Since Mel seemed at least familiar with such systems from the television, he decided to pose the question to her. Of course, real life was not like TV, but it might get their minds working in the right direction. It was, at least, better than sitting around doing nothing. "What do you think, Mel? Can you think of a way to get in." She considered, then shook her head. "No, I'm coming up blank, Cole. I'm sorry." She sighed, frustrated. "If this were a movie and there was no way through the lasers themselves, how would they be deactivated?" "Um, let's see... Well, if it were Tom Cruise, it would be... um, retinal scan, maybe, of DNA or voice typing..." "DNA typing?" Cole asked. Mel nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, saw it in a movie once. There'd be like... a hand-plate or maybe a way to take a sample of blood..." She shook her head. "But this isn't a movie," she added. "I know, Mel." Cole turned his attention from the lasers that Mel was still tossing rocks through to the cliff walls along the cave. "But there might be something to the idea. The best way to keep this Key safe from anyone other than a Cirronian or member of a Guardian bloodline would be to only allow such people into the cave. This could only be accomplished--" "With a DNA test." Mel nodded, grinning widely. "Or a life-force scan." Cole's eyes fixed on a strangely regular portion of the wall. He held his hand in front of it and took a quick reading. "There's an energy source behind this," he announced. With a little work, he had managed to pry a stone panel off of the wall. Behind it was a smooth metal plate, embedded in the wall. Above the plate was a small tight mesh grid of some sort. Beneath, there was a small rectangle that looked suspiciously like an LCD screen. "I am not seeing this," Mel whispered, grinning. At Cole's curious look, she shrugged. "I'm sorry, it's just... this is so James Bond and it was put here millions of years ago. By your people! It's amazing, Cole..." Cole smiled. "They're your people, too, Mel," he pointed out gently. Mel grinned and shrugged. "God, this is just so... sci-fi! How does it work?" she asked eagerly. "The panel reads life-forces." He tapped the mesh screen. "This looks a lot like a speaker from a computer or radio." He shrugged at that. "The screen is just a screen. I'm not sure what it's for." "Find out," Mel suggested. Cole nodded and placed his palm against the panel. A soft, breathy voice came out of the speaker in a language Mel had never heard before but found very beautiful and strangely familiar. It must be Cirronian she decided, remembering the song Cole had been singing in the car. She could not tell if the voice was male or female, but it was undeniably beautiful. And it seemed to call to something inside of her. "Cirronian," Cole told her, confirming her suspicion. "It's asking me to release a small sample of my energy." "Go for it," Mel suggested. Cole smiled and nodded, releasing a measure of energy into the panel. As he dropped his hand, the Cirronian voice began speaking again and glyphs appeared on the screen, causing him to sigh. "What's it say? Is that Cirronian, too?" Mel asked, pointing to the screen. "A primitive form, yes." Cole nodded. "The voice is saying 'access denied', and requesting a higher level of clearance or..." He frowned, shaking his head, listening intently. "What's wrong?" Mel asked. "The language and the writing are both very ancient. About as common on Cirron today as Latin is on earth." Mel frowned. "Tell me you can understand it?" Cole nodded. "Most of it. I think..." "You... think?" Cole nodded absently, listening intently as the audio message repeated itself again. "It says my blood-line is not cleared for access to this location. I need... a member of one of the lines listed on the screen... to alter my clearance level... at which point... my line will... endure... no, remain cleared for... two generations." "Why? Why is it set up like that?" "As a fail-safe, probably. While most Cirronians are perfectly trustworthy there are... a few in every species. So a Cirronian who is not charged to protect the Key is still refused access unless there is a pressing need for him to have access. Just in case." "I guess that makes sense. Wouldn't want the first evil Cirronian in a hundred-thousand years getting his hands on one of the Keys." "No, Mel." "So what now?" He frowned and glanced down at the screen. "Mel, could you get me
some paper Mel nodded and hurriedly retrieved them for him. As he sat down, she grabbed a few granola bars and a canteen, handing them to him before sitting down herself. Cole ate and drank absently as he copied the glyphs from the screen and then set about the task of translating them. Mel ate as well, not really tasting her food, just watching him curiously as he worked, occasionally muttering to himself or scratching down some glyph or other next to one of the original ones. Modern Cirronian, she supposed. She was glad that he had once been a teacher, because she doubted that most career Trackers knew much about dead languages. The only audible sound that of Cole's pen occasionally scratching out another glyph. Cole found his attention suddenly riveted by the final glyph on the page. In his zeal to copy them down accurately, he had totally failed to notice that the most recent one was... Modern Cirronian? It could not be. Except that it undeniably was. And it said... "Porter," Cole whispered, looking up at Mel. "The last one says... Porter." Mel choked on the sip of water she had been drinking. "I... Wh... Cole?" "It's modern Cirronian," he explained, patting her back until her sputtering passed. "I have no idea how I missed that fact, but it's modern Cirronian and it says 'Porter'." "As in my grandparents?" "Well, your grandmother, at least." Cole nodded and scanned the paper again for a few moments, before pointing to another glyph. "I think this one must belong to your grandfather, Mel." "You're kidding?" she asked, eyeing the symbol as though she thought it might come to life and start talking to her, giving her answers as to her heritage. Cole shook his head. "I could be wrong, but it's the most recent line of... Guardian's," he finished, shaking his head. It was the best translation he could come up with, but it seemed insufficient to the idea. "Lines that would be charged to help the human Guardian lines to protect the Keys. They would... teach and protect these humans." Mel nodded slowly. "Makes sense. Do they always... um..." She flushed slightly. "Tell me, Cole, does being attracted to Cirronians run in the family? Do people like me and my father happen a lot?" she asked finally. Cole frowned, momentarily confused, then shook his head. "No, Mel. Hybrid offspring seldom occur between the human Guardians and their Cirronian guardians. I don't think many humans ever get past thinking of their guardians as being aliens, not human." She nodded and shrugged. "Their loss." Cole smiled faintly. "So... this means I can clear you, right? Since I belong to at least one of these bloodlines?" Cole nodded and rose. "I think so, Mel." He extended his hand and helped her to her feet. "It's very easy," he explained. *** Mel inhaled deeply, pressing her hand against the plate and releasing energy. She moved her hand so that Cole could place his own on the plate again, and then covered it with hers. As he explained it, her energy would flow through his hand, mingle with his own, and then enter the scanner, assuring the computer that she found him acceptable. The operation was achieved quickly and the computer's voice spoke again. Cole translated. "It says 'access granted'. Mel. 'Welcome, Guardian of the Porter line. May the Spirit of the Great Flame smile on your... life-force, I think... May her warming embrace shield you from your enemies'." He listened for a few more moments, smiling faintly. "More along those lines, a formal greeting, the respect you're due, a reminder of your duty to guard the Key from all enemies of... all people, basically, all sentient life-forces..." He paused and nodded. "That's it." "Is that what's on the screen?" Mel asked. Cole nodded absently and turned his attention to the cave-mouth. He listened as the computer continued speaking, giving him a similar greeting and an injunction to guard the Key and... Mel. He blinked and continued listening, startled. Mel watched for a few seconds, wondering what was going through his mind. "Come on, Cole," she said finally. "We have a Key to retrieve." Cole smiled and nodded. "Yes, Mel," he agreed, touching her throat. What he felt only made his smile widen. So much pride. "You have a Key to retrieve." He emphasized the 'you'. This was hers. Her destiny. Mel grinned and nodded. Twining her fingers through his, she walked into the cave, unafraid. She smiled as she saw the simple metal form. This one was a diamond-shape with a triangle punched out of the center, an inversion of the other. Cole released her hand and fell back, letting her walk forward to lay claim to this Key, her birthright, by herself. "You know," Mel told Cole. "If this were an Indiana Jones movie, this would be the final trap." With those words and a fatalistic shrug, she plucked the second Key from its pedestal. End Act 4 Tag "So, you two have fun?" Maggie asked Mel as they shut down for the evening. Cole was sitting in a darkened corner, translating the writing on the second Key. "Oh, barrels and barrels of it," Mel assured her sarcastically, grinning. "Especially when our fire went out the first night, a windstorm knocked our tent down the second night, the G.P.S. and cell-phone were destroyed, we got lost on the third day..." A Dessarian tried to kill us... "I got hypothermia, the Forest Service had to airlift us out..." Mel trailed off, shaking her head. "Yup, Maggie, a great time was had by all." "Mel's wrong, Maggie," Cole informed the human as she pulled on her jacket and got ready to leave. "Very little of the trip was actually fun. Frequently interesting, but not much fun. Except roasting the marshmellons." Maggie smiled and shook her head. Cole could be a real hoot at times, much as Alan had always been. She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head, deciding that it did not matter. "If you say so. Well, you two kids have a great evening." "Bye, Maggie," Mel called after her. "Good bye, Maggie," Cole added as the woman left. When the door closed, Mel glanced up at him. "For future reference, they are called 'marshmallows', Cole." Cole nodded absently, filing this away. "Did you translate the writing yet?" "Still working on it, Mel?" "You said it's different than the other one?" Cole nodded. "Similar in places, but definitely different." "Hmm. Well, I'm going to run upstairs and make us some dinner. Let me know when you have anything." Cole nodded and returned to his scrutiny of the Key. He was having trouble with the translations, preoccupied by everything that had happened on the trip. It was not just all that which had passed between him and Mel, either. He had not told Mel everything that the computer had said, how it had declared him now to be a Guardian's guardian in his own right, or how it had called Mel and himself differing halves of the same life-force. Whatever happened now, no matter what became of their on-hold relationship, Cole was bound to her, body and soul. The computer had christened him both last member of an old bloodline and first of a new one, charged him to watch over not only Mel and her bloodline, but the Keys themselves. Almost as if it knew something, suspected that the two lines would not remain separate forever. Sighing he returned to his translations, smiling when he was done. He stared at the simple verse, moved by its message and, strangely, feeling spoken to by the words written millions of years before his birth. It could have been written for them alone. Perhaps, in a way, it had been. He felt... illuminated, as if a switch had been thrown in a dark room and he could now see his way clearly. Smiling and rising, he carried the notepad and the Key upstairs, eager to show his translation to Mel. He knew it would make her smile, too, and her smile was absolutely radiant. "You know what I don't understand?" Mel asked absently from the kitchen when she heard him enter. "What's that, Mel?" Cole asked, hanging the second Key next to the now-useless first Key. "How, before we left, I completely failed to notice that the sleeping-bag had a torn inside seam." She shook her head, amused. "No wonder I got hypothermia," she laughed. "I'm actually surprised it took three days." "Torn inside seam?" Cole repeated, remembering his frantic efforts to get himself as far from Mel as possible in the small bag and suspecting that this was the actual cause of the tear. "That... is odd," he agreed in what he hoped was a casual voice. "You feeling okay?" Mel asked, looking up at him. Obviously not casual enough. Cole nodded. "Fine, Mel. I finished the translation." "Cool." Mel smiled. "What's it say?" Cole handed her the notepad and went to keep an eye on the food while she read. Makers of legend, A Guardian's Angel The End To Episode 8 - Healing the Breach Return to the Watchfire Annexx
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