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  He nosed the barrel of his rifle around the grill lid…and found Barnabas tending to their supper.

  “I hope you didn’t forget I was coming.” Barnabas spoke softly as always, his teasing accompanied by a serene smile.

  Lance lowered his rifle. “It’s traditional to let your host know you’ve arrived so you don’t get your funny ass shot off,” he told him, retrieving the cooler. “Did you make it down here without being noticed?”

  Barnabas nodded. “There was a sticky moment with a malfunctioning android, but Shinigami fixed the problem.”

  Lance winced, thinking of the pleasant exchange he’d had with Ojon on the journey from the spaceport. “Did you have to terminate him?”

  Barnabas frowned. “Of course not! I repaired his issue with some help from ADAM and wiped our meeting from his memory core.”

  Lance held up his hands. “Just asking.” He opened the cooler and took out the steaks. “We have more important things to discuss. Medium or rare?”

  Barnabas took a seat at the table. “Whichever you can manage with that primitive contraption,” he replied.

  Lance scoffed, brandishing the tongs over the top of the grill. “Don’t sell the old girl short.”

  Barnabas peered into the cooler and rummaged around the bottles. “Who said I was talking about the grill?”

  Lance offered Barnabas the traditional middle finger salute. “Extremely well done. Got you.”

  Barnabas raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t ruin a good beef steak to prove a point.”

  Lance paled at the suggestion. “I wonder how difficult it would be to modify a herd of cows or two to populate the grasslands on High Tortuga?”

  Barnabas chuckled. “Easy enough. However, the only ones eating beef would be the dinosaurs. We have bistok, and they are at least fast-breeding and aggressive enough to stand a chance.”

  “Did you see the android’s animal?” Lance inquired, turning the meat. “Damn thing is as tame as a gelding. Never seen anything like it.”

  Barnabas smiled serenely. “A peaceable bistok is a sight to behold. It goes to show that we do not have to give in to our nature if we choose differently. Look at the Federation.”

  Lance groaned. “Not for another three days, and nobody can make it happen sooner.”

  “You still haven’t resolved the issue with your dying king,” Barnabas deduced.

  Lance wiped a hand over his eyes. “No. There doesn’t look to be a solution that leaves our hands clean,” he admitted. “The king has days left. A couple of weeks at the most. It got heated enough for me to call a break to give everyone a chance to cool off.” He piled the steak on a plate and handed it to Barnabas. “Maybe we do need a vigilante.”

  Barnabas accepted the plate from Lance. “Say no more.”

  The Etheric

  Bethany Anne and Michael had been running through the mist for at least three eternities. At least it felt that way, time and the unchanging Etheric blurring together to become one and the same until the moment that the moody gray line on the horizon began to grow larger in their perception.

  Bethany Anne grinned. “Am I seeing things?”

  “It’s real,” Michael confirmed.

  The break in the monotony was enough to spur them into a race for the last few dozen kilometers at the end of the hundreds they had crossed in the uncounted hours they had been running.

  They pushed hard, wringing the strength out of their bodies and pausing only when the thin stripe had become a towering cliff that dwarfed them despite their relatively large distance from it.

  Michael tipped his head back and shaded his eyes, squinting up to try to make out the top of the storm wall. “That is definitely not an ocean,” he stated.

  The corner of Bethany Anne’s mouth twitched with amusement. “No, honey. It’s…” Her voice trailed off as she sensed a huge mass of energy approaching the edge of the storm wall. “Fuck me.”

  Michael got a sense of the enormous power in the storm at almost the same moment as Bethany Anne. “It’s headed this way.”

  Bethany Anne halted a few hundred feet from the storm wall with a distant expression on her face. “We just proved TOM’s theory, which means we have an opportunity to test the practical application of it.”

  Michael’s chuckle died quickly when Bethany Anne did not join in. “You’re not joking? I do not think TOM meant for you to die attempting to control the largest single storm in the Etheric.”

  Bethany Anne shrugged and walked in the direction of the storm wall. “We need an increase in available energy to test the theory, and there’s a shit-ton of energy headed right for us. The equation isn’t difficult.”

  Michael stared at his wife’s back for a moment before replying, “An increase in available energy is one thing. This storm stretches for,” he felt for the edges of the approaching pressure with his mind, “a kilometer or so.”

  “I won’t be chasing it alone. Do you think I would risk orphaning our children?” Bethany Anne’s eyes unfocused for a moment. “TOM needs to pull up his panties and get with the program here. Besides, a storm of that size would prove his theory one way or the other, and if he’s right, we have a way to get to the homeworld.”

  “I thought the goal was for me to learn how to handle these storms?” Michael reminded her.

  Bethany Anne took out one of the beacons and activated it. “And you will. However, I won’t pass up an opportunity this good.”

  Michael wasn’t sure why Bethany Anne perceived this monumental challenge as a “good” thing, but he knew better than to argue when his wife got that look. “You’re going to let ADAM and TOM do their part, right?”

  Bethany Anne snorted softly. “They’re already at work,” she told him. “I need you to be my anchor until I have control of the storm, which should help you figure out exactly how I’m controlling the energy.”

  Her gaze shifted for a moment and Michael saw the minute changes to her expression that told him she was ripping either ADAM or TOM a new asshole. Possibly both. “Whatever you need,” he agreed in the name of keeping his own ass intact for the time being. “What do you want me to do?”

  Bethany Anne sat cross-legged on the ground, waved away a tendril of overly curious mist, and settled her hands into her meditation pose. “Hold my mind and don’t let it go. Number two on the list of reasons not to fuck around with Etheric storms is that it’s too easy to forget what keeps you from ascending.”

  Michael frowned. “That’s a concern?”

  Bethany Anne shrugged. “Not usually, but what’s coming our way is a bit beyond what I’ve been working with so far. I’m doing this, but I’m not taking risks I don’t have to.”

  Michael felt Bethany Anne's consciousness unfurl and stretch.

  She looked up at him, raising a finger. “No laughing at my deepest, darkest fantasies,” she warned.

  Michael suppressed the urge to snicker. “If you are referring to the temple to footwear I can see in the deepest recesses of your mind, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

  Bethany Anne pressed her lips together. “Thinking about laughing is still laughing,” she responded archly.

  Michael put a hand to his chest. “I swear, on the inside, I was crying tears of sorrow that your temple is not a reality.”

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes. “Yet. Now, if we’re all done being amusing?” She returned her focus to the approaching storm. “This requires total concentration.”

  Michael sat directly behind Bethany Anne and wrapped his arms around her middle, his legs on either side of hers. “Then concentrate. I’ve got you.”

  “I know you do.” Bethany Anne centered herself, holding onto the sensation of being cocooned by her husband’s body. She reached her calm space and extended her mind toward the wall of roiling energy, where the gigantic storm was fighting to break free.

  Just a little bit farther, she coaxed. Come to me. Her inner voice was soft. However, beneath the silky tone, she did not bend an i
nch. She called the energy to her, enticing it with the promise of purpose.

  The storm obeyed, attracted to the bright spark of Bethany Anne’s mind. It spilled from the wall in a spray of lightning, streaking the mist above her and Michael silver-blue.

  Bethany Anne grasped the storm energy as the tumult parted to eject the leading edge.

  Michael felt her grow distant. Bethany Anne.

  I’m okay. Pay attention now, but don’t listen to the storm.

  Bethany Anne opened her mind to it.

  The storm sang to her of power untamed, release from worldly concerns, and the peace of becoming one with its energy in exchange for simply giving in and becoming part of the song. It was a siren serenade she heard snatches of every time she called a storm, something she’d learned to ignore while she wielded the power of the Etheric to locate the Ooken.

  Bethany Anne realized she’d had no idea of the true potential of the Etheric until now. She was barely aware of Michael, ADAM and TOM speaking to her, enraptured by the wild beauty she was there to tame.

  The storm was an orchestra, playing her as its instrument.

  She saw it all—the purpose of existence, the secrets of the cosmos, just one step away. She briefly understood how to create or destroy entire universes with nothing more than a thought. The knowledge slipped away before she could grasp it, but it didn’t matter that the storm tempted her.

  ADAM and TOM saw everything she did.

  Michael was experiencing it along with her.

  The smallest of satisfied smiles graced the corner of Bethany Anne's lips.

  Come to me. Be mine.

  12

  The Etheric

  Michael held Bethany Anne tightly as the storm grew closer.

  Fully half of it had emerged by this point, and she was beginning to breathe harder under the strain. He entwined his mind around hers to lighten the load.

  What are you doing? Bethany Anne's inner voice was tense.

  Michael added his strength to hers. You showed me enough that I’ve figured it out.

  Then we face this together. Bethany Anne slipped out of Michael’s arms, taking his hand before she got to her feet to maintain the physical connection.

  Michael took his place by Bethany Anne’s side, his fingers tightening on hers. As it should be.

  Michael deflected the lightning as they turned to face the storm, their combined will drawing it toward them with ever more speed.

  Bethany Anne created a shield of hardened Etheric energy overhead to protect them from being scoured by the bombardment of particles and the wind decreased almost immediately, the lightning running harmlessly down the sides after being drawn to the spikes protruding from the top.

  Michael indicated the cascading energy with a nod. That certainly improves matters.

  No shit, Bethany Anne replied, pushing the shield up and out to give them space to work. The edge of the storm began to whip her hair despite the protection. Okay, we got the energy here. Now we take control. She tightened her grip on Michael’s hand, raising the other to the maelstrom. You should increase your weight. This is likely going to get bumpy.

  “Bumpy” was a somewhat underwhelming description of the cyclonic force that hit Bethany Anne and Michael when the raging mist swallowed them whole.

  Michael had already increased his weight some earlier, when they got up from their meditative position. Now he dialed his body mass up until he was certain the wind would not steal his legs from under him or snap his spine. I am beginning to understand why our children find your lessons so scintillating. He felt Bethany Anne grin and the pressure build in her brain. A margin for error of practically zero is every bit as effective as stimulating the nervous system for sharpening the mind.

  We all have to grow. Beating common sense into everyone personally takes up a lot of time I don’t have. Bethany Anne didn’t miss a beat despite the battle they were waging. She continued to exert herself, laying her will over the energy like she’d done so many times before. It’s much more efficient for me to provide a sink-or-swim experience.

  Michael grinned as he followed Bethany Anne’s every move. How enlightened of you.

  “Enlightened?” Bethany Anne chuckled darkly. There are enough assholes in this universe for me to spend every second of my life kicking them into shape. It makes the times I do go to the effort of applying pain to expedite the learning process that bit more special, don’t you think?

  Michael chuckled. I don’t disagree.

  They battled on in stoic silence as the lightning pounded the ground around the shield, which was holding—by what power Michael didn’t know at this point. He could discern no end to himself and no beginning to Bethany Anne. He felt blood welling up, but it wasn’t his nose that poured crimson.

  Bethany Anne dismissed the concern she felt from Michael. She gritted her teeth, her jaw clenched with the effort it was taking to master the storm. TOM is dealing with it. We’re almost there, so don’t get distracted now.

  She felt the pressure shift as the energy came under her control. It’s different.

  How so? Michael inquired.

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes in consideration. I’m not sure yet. I’m going to open a window.

  Michael nodded. Be careful.

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes internally.

  Thinking about rolling your eyes is still rolling your eyes, Michael teased.

  Bethany Anne turned her hard look on her husband. Are you trying to piss me off?

  Of course, Michael replied. I wouldn’t want you to go into this at anything less than your best.

  You’re an ass. Bethany Anne retorted, her mouth quirking as she began the process of opening the window. It took a gargantuan effort that started her nose bleeding again.

  Bethany Anne?

  Am I about to die?

  Well, no, but—

  Then it will wait. She heaved with all her mental power and everything she dared take from Michael.

  It was enough…just.

  The mist drew back and began to coalesce around them as Bethany Anne's knees gave way.

  Michael caught Bethany Anne before she fell and held her steady under his arm until her face resumed its usual color. Are you hurt?

  Bethany Anne pressed her temple to Michael’s shoulder and rubbed her eyes in the hope whatever was causing the blurriness in her vision would hurry up and heal. No, just drained. I’ll be fine in a minute.

  They stood that way for a bit, watching the milky grayness leach out of the opaque mist as it hardened into a wall that surrounded them.

  Bethany Anne drew long and hard on the Etheric as the window stabilized around them. But that took everything I had and then some. If you ask me to do it again in the next five minutes, the answer will be screw that—and have some fuckdamn hell NO to go with it.

  Michael looked at the window. Don’t they usually open a distance from the inhabited planet?

  Bethany Anne nodded, her surroundings slowly coming back into focus as TOM repaired her brain and the dizziness receded.

  Michael flicked a finger at the view beyond. Then I believe you may have been correct in your assessment. This is certainly different than your previous outcomes.

  Bethany Anne rubbed her eyes again while the window crystallized. The landscape beyond was alien to her, but she had no trouble processing that the window had opened right onto the planet instead of hundreds of kilometers away. What the… She turned to Michael. We did it. We opened a window to the Ooken homeworld!

  Michael released Bethany Anne and went over to touch the window. He looked back at her, his eyes wide with surprise. You have done more than that. Come and see.

  Bethany Anne walked the few steps to him and reached out to investigate for herself. The membrane between the Etheric and the planet flexed under her fingertips before giving. She pulled her hand back and turned to Michael with an identical look of amazement. “I can’t believe this. We’ve opened a fucking door.”

 
QT2, QBBS Helena, Robinson Memorial Park

  Admiral Thomas was enjoying a rare quiet lunch with his wife when CEREBRO interrupted.

  “Apologies, Admiral, Mrs. Foxton-Thomas. We have a location on Bethany Anne and Michael. One of Eve’s tracker beacons just came online. Tabitha is awaiting your call.”

  Admiral Thomas looked at Giselle regretfully. “Looks like that’s the end of our date. I’m sorry, dear.”

  Giselle took his champagne flute with a smile. “Don’t be silly. Our Queen needs you, so you must answer the call of duty.”

  The Admiral kissed his wife soundly. “Whatever did I do to deserve you?” he asked.

  Giselle touched her finger to his nose. “You didn’t pretend you didn’t need me,” she teased. “Now, Tabitha is a mite impatient when it comes to Bethany Anne, and much more likely to injure you if you keep her waiting. Go on, now.”

  “Yes, dear.” Admiral Thomas kissed Giselle one more time just to be sure she was real and not a figment of his tired mind and left the park in a dignified dash.

  Tabitha was already onscreen in his ready room when he got aboard the ArchAngel II ten minutes later. “No time to talk,” she began, shifting in her seat as though she couldn’t wait to be gone. “This is the one. Take the whole fleet and be ready to go in hot, because Bethany Anne isn’t going to wait.”

  Admiral Thomas slid into his chair and pulled up his holoscreen to send out the orders. He paled when he saw the coordinates. “This is… Tabitha, only the superdreadnoughts can make this distance in time to be of any help to Bethany Anne, and even they will be cutting it fine. The smaller ships just flat don’t have the Gate capacity.”

  Tabitha frowned. “Then load the smaller ships into the superdreadnoughts like Russian dolls, or stick them to the hulls. I don’t know. Just get them there.”

  Admiral Thomas sighed. “That’s not in question.”

  Tabitha got to her feet. “Good, and stay in touch. I can’t leave Devon.”