Melinda Metz - The Salvation

Wrong. This is wrong, Liz thought. She shook her head and felt her curly hair fly around her face.

Curly hair? Liz didn't have curly hair. Maria was the one with the curly hair. All Liz could see was brown, brown everywhere. But she knew what was happening. They were becoming absorbed, melding together.

She tried to visualize the amber of her own aura. At first all she could come up with was the mud brown. But that wasn't right. Amber was lighter. Amber was like a perfect piece of Adam's toast. Like the scotch her papa sometimes drank. Like the honey Maria used instead of sugar. Like a lion's mane. Like the wood of her abuelita's dresser.

A spray of pure amber erupted out of the mud. Yes!

Liz felt strong now. Strong and in control. She sent out an image to Maria-the blue of a sparkling blue lake, of the spangled tutus they'd worn in their ballet recital when they were little girls, of Maria's own blue eyes. And Maria's blue aura arced up beside Liz's amber one.

Alex must have figured out what he needed to do on his own because a geyser of orange burst free. Followed by one of purple and one of magenta.

Maria flung out an image of a Valentines Day lollipop, the deep rich red of Michael's aura. Liz added the image of a stop sign. Alex threw in a mustang convertible with a red paint job so glossy, it looked edible. Isabel conjured up a hand with wicked-looking deep red nails. And Trevor added an image of Mars.

Liz scanned the expanse of mud. She didn't see anything red. But a small patch was bubbling. The bubbles grew bigger, started popping faster, then a vertical stream of red rose up.

Only one to go. Max! It's your turn, she thought. She concentrated fiercely on the image of a perfect emerald. Then she hurled it out as hard as she could.

And the connection broke.

Liz swayed on her feet as the living room of Michael's apartment reappeared around her. She twisted around so she could see Max's face, hoping, praying. But it was dull. Empty. No Max in there that she could see.

"Are you all right, Michael?" Isabel asked urgently.

Liz whirled around, her eyes going immediately to the hand that had been in Max's shoulder. It was free and appeared whole and fully functioning.

"I'm fine," Michael answered, flexing the fingers of the hand that had been absorbed. "But I guess it's time to move on to our fallback plan."

Silence fell over the group as they all looked at Max's lifeless body.

"The fallback plan we don't have," Alex reminded them all.

"Do I need to be Max now? Will your parents be home soon?" Trevor asked as he sat down on Isabel's soft, perfectly made bed.

"No. You have a couple of hours." Isabel picked up a glass kitten from her bedside table, then grabbed a Kleenex and started to polish the kitten furiously. "I keep thinking the consciousness is going to do something to Max. You know, to punish him for us trying to use the Stones against it."

Trevor opened his mouth to respond, but Isabel didn't give him a chance. She rushed on, scrubbing the kitten as hard as she could. "And then when we find a way to shatter the consciousness- if we do-then what will happen to him? You said you think Max could die. And that's not acceptable. That's-"

The glass kitten's tail snapped off in Isabel's fingers. She stared down at it, tears springing to her eyes. She wiped them away viciously, using both hands.

Trevor didn't bother trying to comfort her. He pretended not to even notice the tears since it was clear Isabel found them infuriating. Instead he took the kitten and the tail out of her hands, matched the pieces together, and used his power to nudge the molecules closer together, mending it. He set it back on the little table.

"I think the kitty's safer over here," he commented, forcing a smile.

Isabel gave a snort that blew a tiny, clear bubble out of one of her nostrils. He pretended not to notice that, either-although in a weird way, he found it kind of adorable.

He'd observed that when he was around Isabel, the heart of his human body beat a little faster, and sometimes a thin layer of sweat appeared between his fingers. He knew from studying the Kindred's materials that this was an expression of attraction. Humans were such a strange species. When he'd learned about the sensations, they sounded mildly repulsive, and the sweat sort of was. But the accelerated heartbeat was actually pleasurable, making his body feel warmer and somehow more alive.

He'd also observed that while Liz and Maria were as desirable in their own ways as Isabel, his human body didn't respond to them in the same way. Strange. Mysterious. He liked it.

"Thanks," Isabel muttered finally. "When I think about Max, I go a little crazy." She folded the Kleenex in half, then in half again.

A rush of guilt swept through Trevor, and he felt the back of his neck get hot. He'd been off on a little head vacation, thinking out the pleasures of attraction, while Isabel was clearly suffering.

If Isabel was a member of the Kindred, right now she'd be sternly reminded that sacrifice was an honor. If Max died in the struggle to shatter the consciousness, it would be the most noble death he could have. But Trevor had no desire to lecture her.

"I wish I could give you all the answers," he said. "But I don't have any of them."

"I know," Isabel answered. She folded the Kleenex again, then again, then again until the little square couldn't get any smaller.

Trevor took it away from her. She frowned at him, but she didn't try to snatch it back. "I think we should go out somewhere," he said, struggling to come up with some way to make her feel even the tiniest bit better. "Tomorrow Michael and Maria and I are going to start working on the backup plan while you and Alex and Liz watch Max. So tonight let's just take a break."

"Take a break while Max could be getting tortured?" Isabel spat out, her face so red, it could have been on fire.

"Or I could go out and buy you a couple dozen more boxes of Kleenex so you can fold until you exhaust yourself," Trevor offered calmly.

Isabel combed her fingers through her hair and sighed. "I guess I wouldn't mind doing something that would make me totally exhausted so I could just fall into bed and sleep and wake up when there was actually something I could do for Max."

"Any ideas of what you want to do?" Trevor asked.

She tilted her head to one side, considering. "Dancing. UFOnics," she decided.

A half an hour later they were on the crowded dance floor. Every time he started thinking about what would happen if they couldn't come up with a backup plan, he danced harder. Every time he thought how devastating it would be to Isabel and the others if anything happened to Max, he danced harder. That was the advice he'd given Isabel when they'd first walked in. Don't think, just dance.

She seemed to be following it. Isabel danced with her eyes closed-clearly expecting everyone else to make sure they didn't run into her -blond hair flying as she spun this way and that.

Trevor's heart pounded as he watched her move, beating in his ears louder than the pulsating music. He felt the addition of a new chemical in his bloodstream, something that made him feel almost euphoric. He wondered if he'd ever respond to anyone this way back at home. Not with the furiously beating heart or the same chemicals of the human body, of course, but with this level of intensity.

He had no way to tell. Males and females were kept separate in the Kindred until it was time for them to start a birthing cycle. The Kindred believed that beings were more productive this way, and now Trevor could see why. If he felt like this at home, he'd never accomplish anything. All he'd want to do was follow around whoever gave him these sensations.