By the Sea of Sand Read online

  “Do we need to do anything to prepare for it?”

  It was an interesting question. She studied him as she answered, wondering if any of this would trigger more memories. “No. Just be prepared for the solar panels to go dark, make sure all the backup cells are full so the lamp doesn’t lose power. That’s the most important thing.”

  He looked out the glass again. “Why do you do this, Teila?”

  She broke again a little at the way he said her name. “The lighthouse?”

  “No. The rest of it.” He kept his gaze focused outside, not on her.

  The truth was, his father had been the one to coerce her into opening the lighthouse to fallen soldiers who needed a place to recover and, in some cases, live out the rest of their lives. He’d convinced her the money she’d get from the SDF would be worth it, but what she’d discovered was that the satisfaction of giving people a safe haven had become more important than the financial security. But again, she was hampered by what she thought she might be able to reveal without forcing something into his mind. Not for the first time, she cursed the Rav Aluf. He’d returned her husband to her in a way that made it nearly impossible for her to ever get him back.

  “There are so many soldiers who come home from battle needing a place to rest, and not enough facilities to house them. I had this entire huge place just for myself and Stephin. Even with Densi and the boys, we didn’t need this much space. It seemed natural for me to offer it to those who needed it, when I was asked.”

  He looked at her then. “I think I’ve been gone a long time.”

  “Yes,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean . . . yes, I think you’re probably right.”

  He pressed his fingertips to his temples. “There’s this constant stream of data. It’s in my mind, but I can see it.” He gestured just beyond his eyes. “I can’t describe it. Strings of information, pictures, and colors, but they make patterns. Like fitting together a puzzle, only too many of the pieces are missing. This must’ve been useful at some point, but now it only hurts. It’s distracting. I can’t seem to shut it off.”

  They’d both known he would be enhanced when he went into service. They’d talked about it every night in those last few hours before he’d gone into training, in between their sometimes frantic, sometimes leisurely lovemaking. There was no way to know in advance what would be done to him, but because of his father’s rank, they’d assumed he’d get the highest grade of enhancements.

  “It hurts?” she asked now.

  He nodded with a grimace. “Like lights flashing in the corners of my vision, until I focus on it. Then I can see the data stream. If I ignore it too long, the pain starts up. Here.” He tapped his temples. The center of his forehead. Each inner eye socket.

  “I can give you pain relief—”

  “No,” he said sharply, then softer. “I’m tired of being unfocused.”

  “Then . . . I can still help you. Come.” She gestured, pulling out a chair from the small desk in front of the lamp control panels. Sometimes she’d penned letters to him there, the old-fashioned sort with quill and paper, because electronic communications could be intercepted. She’d never had an answer. Never known if her letters had reached him.

  He hesitated, but came with dragging feet. He sat when she indicated the chair again. When she put her hands on his shoulders, he went instantly stiff.

  “This,” she told him gently, kneading at the tight muscles, “is probably a big part of the problem.”

  He’d always carried a lot of tension in his shoulders and neck, and she knew where to find the trigger spots. One on the left side from an old injury incurred before they’d met. There had to be others now. Many others. She worked at the muscles. Slowly, slowly he relaxed under her touch.

  She moved around to the front of him and, without thinking, straddled his lap. She took his face in her hands, meaning to use her thumbs to work at his temples, but both his hands came up to grab her wrists. Her heart leapt at the heat that rose between them. Her lips parted at once, ready for his kiss.

  It didn’t come.

  Instead, he put her from his lap firmly and without hesitation. He stood, moving the chair so he could get away from her. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “If you need help getting ready for the storm, let me know,” he said.

  Stunned and embarrassed, Teila nodded. “Yes. Um, thank you. I think we’ll be fine. But I’ll let you know. Yes.”

  “I’ll be in my room. If you need help.”

  She nodded, turning her attention to the dials and switches of the control panel. Nothing there needed her to fiddle with it, but she did in order to keep herself focused on that and not on him. Only when he’d gone did she let herself sag a little, a hand over her mouth to hold back the sobs threatening to slip out.

  It had been better, she thought before she could stop herself, when he’d been convinced she was a dream.

  Chapter 14

  The storm had teased the horizon for the full of the day, striking hard only as night fell. The others had gathered in the sitting room to watch a viddy program, but shortly into it the picture flickered and sputtered, turning to black as the rising dust outside blocked the signal. No amount of fussing with the tuner would bring in the picture, much to the grumbling Venga’s disdain.

  Thinking of himself as the Rav still felt more right than as Jodah, but it wasn’t quite natural. It was a name others were meant to call him. Not how he should think of himself. When someone said it though, it turned his head.

  “Rav,” Pera repeated. “Do you play cards? How about a game of Golightly?”

  All soldiers did, of course. It was sometimes the only way to pass long hours in transit, when electronic entertainment units were forbidden because the transmissions they used could be picked up by enemy scanners. He’d perfected his shuffle, his deal, even the art of a few cheats that everyone knew and used so they couldn’t really be considered dishonest.

  He took the pack of cards from her, demonstrating until she grinned. “Don’t call me that. What are we playing for?”

  He supposed she could’ve asked him to play for money. Instead, she pulled a bin of colored marbles from a closet and put it on the table, separating them into colors and choosing one set for herself. The other to him. It made the game a challenge, but not a real risk. She won the first. He won the second.

  Outside, the winds began to howl. The lights flickered but came back on. Eventually Stephin came into the sitting room along with his amira, a bowl of milka pudding in her hands.

  Jodah’s stomach rumbled as the child settled in the chair next to him. “What do you have there?”

  Stephin showed him. “It’s good.”

  “I know it is.”

  Pera shuddered. “Disgusting. It’s the only way I won’t eat milka. How can you stand it that way?”

  He and the boy shared a smile. “If you let me eat some of your pudding, I’ll show you how to shuffle these cards.”

  The boy grinned, but gave his amira a look. The ancient fenda waved a languid hand and ambled toward the long, low couch in the corner, where she promptly settled herself and fell asleep. Jodah took a bite of pudding and then handed Stephin the pack of cards.

  “Here. Like this.”

  They passed the time that way for a little longer as the storm began to lash the lighthouse. Pera, abandoning the game now that the boy was involved, got up to look out the windows. Venga grumbled some more about the viddy program he wasn’t able to watch. Adarey and Stimlin, who’d both been reading, went to bed without saying a word.

  Though he’d waited for her all evening, Teila hadn’t come into the sitting room. Now Densi woke and took the protesting Stephin by the hand to get ready for bed. The boy hung back.

  “Will you take me?” Stephin asked.

  “Don’t you bother him now,” said the amira with a shake of her head, though she gave Jodah a curious look. “He don’t need to be messing with the likes of you.”