“That makes two of us,”she said with wry amusement, hissing with pain as she shiftedaround on the bed.
He smiled—with his eyes. His lipsbarely lifted at the corners. “More than two, I think.”
She studied his face. “Where did youcome from?”
Something flickered in hiseyes—dismay, she thought. “I … do not pass?”
She squeezed the hand she discoveredwas still holding hers. “Not … entirely. You don’t speak likeus.”
He frowned, clearly confused. “This isthe language I learned from you.”
“But it’s closer to theway we write than the way we actually talk. It’s no big thing.You’ll understand … in time. You didn’t tell me where you camefrom.”
He merely stared at her.
“I saw when you came,” shesaid gently.
He lifted his head and looked aroundthe tent. “We were sent to find the traitor—the one who destroysyour world. We need you to help us find him.”
“I gave you all of theknowledge of the collective.”
He frowned, struggled with somethingand reached a decision. “We are not of this plain. And time is noton your side. We will accomplish what we were sent to do … but itmay be too late for your people. I want to save your people, butthis … all of this ….”
“You don’tunderstand?”
“Some.”
Meaning that as intelligent as he was,as empathetic to their cause, he was out of his element and thetime it took him to catch up would be time they, Earth people,couldn’t afford to lose?
She realized she believedhim.
In any case, she had already entrustedhim with everything—her life and the knowledge of the collectivethat had been entrusted to her to ensure that mankind didn’t simplycease to exist. They could leave their record if nothingelse.
“Where are the othertwo?”
“Presently, they aresearching for nourishment for these bodies.”
Dismay flickered through Ultima. Thesebodies? Disconnected. No wonder they couldn’t understand. Theyhadn’t formed a bond between their consciousness and the bodiesthey inhabited. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to no matterwhat?
“Tell them …. Ask them ifthey will come to me for … enlightenment.”
She could see he was reluctant. “Whatis it?”
He swallowed a little convulsively. “Iam not certain,” he lied and felt a coldness wash over him when heacknowledged that it was a lie.
The coldness was fear of the unknownand the certainty that he would face it and be foreverchanged.
He would not be able to go back, hethought.
He would not want to.
It was the woman he had claimed as‘his’.
He did not want to ‘share’ her eventhough he knew she was not his to share—or not.
He had felt thatbeforetheenlightenment.
And now it was moreprofound.
