He winced. "No, thanks. I don't want to watch you with another guy."
"Who says I'll find my special someone first? Perhaps you will find yours before I do. You deserve someone who loves you to pieces, who looks at you like Tamira looks at Elias."
They both turned to look at the couple, who were sleeping with their faces turned toward each other and holding hands.
"That's disgustingly romantic," Tony said without much heat. "I hate them because I want what they have."
"So do I." She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "We can still have it. Does your bioinformatician have a sister?"
"Yeah, she does." He snorted. "I think Cheryl is fifteen."
Tula shrugged. "So, you wait a few years. If you turn immortal, time becomes irrelevant."
"You are talking as if it's a done deal. I'm probably not a Dormant."
"Then you find a nice human to love." Tula took another sip from her juice. "Yamanu said that there are humans living in the village. People like you and Elias who have been exposed to immortals or the Kra-ell for too long to thrall their memories away. Maybe your truelove mate is one of them."
"Humans don't have truelove mates."
"Right." She leaned back. "But humans are much more fruitful. You could probably produce several siblings for our son, which is not something I will be able to do. I think you will be a great father, and I want us to be friends."
"I need another drink." He got up and walked over to the bar cabinet to refill his glass.
When he returned, they sat in silence while he worked through his whiskey. Tula wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease his pain, but she'd already said everything she could think of.
"For what it's worth," Tony said eventually, his words starting to slur, "I hope you find your truelove mate."
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "And I hope you find someone special too."
"Yeah." He stared into his empty glass. "Maybe. Right now, I just want to stop feeling this."
He got up to get another whiskey, and then another, and by the time he'd finished his sixth or seventh, his eyes were barely staying open.
"You should sleep," she told him.
"That's the plan." He fumbled with the seat recline button until Tula helped him, lowering his seat but not all the way flat because she was afraid he would puke. "Wake me when we get to Tokyo," he said. "Or don't. I don't really care."
Within minutes he was snoring softly, his face slack with the oblivion of alcohol-induced sleep.
Tula felt drained and guilty and relieved all at once. She'd done it. She'd ended things. It had hurt, but it was done.
There was one more thing she needed to take care of before arriving at the village, though.
Esag.
She had to find out why he had invaded her dreams.
The plane was quiet now, most of the passengers sleeping with only a few still absorbed in their entertainment. If she was going to have a private conversation with Esag, this was probably her best chance.
Tula unbuckled her seatbelt and stood carefully, mindful of the slight turbulence that made the plane shudder occasionally. She made her way down the aisle, past sleeping ladies and softly glowing tablet screens, toward where Esag sat several rows back.
He looked up as she approached, and something in his expression shifted. Initially, there was surprise, then hope, and then wariness, all flickering across his features in quick succession.
"Do you have a moment?" she asked quietly.
"I have nothing but time." He motioned to the empty seat beside him.
26
