From Another Place Ch. 05

I was shaken out of my dark reverie by the sound of the alarm on Sally's phone. She reached out and picked it up, silencing the alarm.

"Dad said you didn't mind coming to church," she said.

I managed a smile, while groaning mentally. I consoled myself with the fact that the sharp-tongued old ladies might have something to say worth hearing.

"Do you want a shower now, or after breakfast?" Sally continued.

"After breakfast is fine," I said. "You go ahead."

She went through to the bathroom, and I heard her singing softly to herself as the water splashed.

"I'm going down," I called. "If Tim's not up yet I'll make the coffee."

"OK," she called.

I went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and glanced up to see Tim coming down.

"Morning," he said. "Looks like it's going to be a nice day. Maybe we can go for a walk after lunch."

I nodded, feeling more cheerful. After all, church was only an hour or two, then the day was our own again.

I made the coffee, pouring a mug for Sally, and after a few more minutes she appeared in jeans and t-shirt, her hair still wet. "Morning, Dad."

She sat down at the table, and Tim grinned. "Got you a treat." He took a bag from the counter and passed it to Sally. She opened the top, and looked up at him, smiling. "Danish pastry – I love these."

She slid the pastries out onto a plate, and offered it to me. "You choose first, Amy."

I saw the image in her mind of her favourite – a cinnamon whirl – and despite my intentions, I couldn't bring myself to disappoint her. I took the apple pastry, and Sally grinned. "Looks like you get pecan and maple again, Dad."

Tim nodded, transferring the pastry to his plate. Sally took hers, and bit into it, her eyes closed. "Mm."

I quickly finished my pastry, and said, "Well, looks like I'll be the last one ready."

"Don't worry," said Tim. "The service never quite starts on time anyway."

I went upstairs, and decided to try the shower – my hair would have to be wet anyway to convince Sally and Tim. I made the mental gesture that disappeared my t-shirt, and got into the cubicle, turning on the water.

I stood under the spray, enjoying the feeling of the water on my skin despite myself. I picked up a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed a little onto my hand. The scent was of apples, and I rubbed it through my hair, then rinsed out the foam.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying with a towel from the rail. Then I went back through to the bedroom and stood in front of the mirror.

I chose jeans and t-shirt for today's outfit, like Sally's but just a little tighter in one or two places. I turned, and grinned at my reflection, satisfied with the effect.

Sally and Tim were in the hall when I got downstairs. "Time we were off," said Tim.

Again we walked the short distance to the church, and the vicar greeted Sally enthusiastically. "Good to see you again," he said. "We miss you in the young people's group."

We went in and found seats, and I listened in on the various conversations. To my disappointment I didn't hear anything especially negative, though I caught a flash of interest in me from a quiet-looking man who sat at the back.

The organ started to play, and we stood for the first hymn. This time I took care to moderate my singing, and I listened to Sally's clear, innocent voice as she put her all into the ancient words.

We sat down at the end of the hymn, and a white-haired man approached the lectern.

He began to read. "And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling—these he has kept in darkness..."

I felt a sudden urge to be elsewhere, anywhere but sitting in the hard pew of this sacred place, listening to a mere human discussing my fate. I whispered to Sally, "Sorry – I really need to get out."

She shifted to let me pass, her face showing concern. "Are you OK?"

I gulped, only half-feigning nausea. "I'll be fine."

I stumbled out into the daylight, and found a bench by the graveyard. I heard steps behind me, and Sally sat next to me. She waited patiently, not speaking.

I felt something surge inside me, something irresistible, and I heard myself speaking, as though someone else was using my voice.

"Sally, I..."

She took my hand. "It's OK. You don't need to tell me. Something like this happened to me, about the third or fourth time I came here."

She paused. "I wasn't even listening to the sermon, and I just felt like there was a weight pressing on me, too heavy to carry. I found my way out here, and suddenly I knew I had to change, to let go..."

I couldn't stay silent any more. "Sally," I said, the words forcing themselves from me, "you don't understand. I'm not what you think I am."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I know I've not seen much, not done much. But it doesn't matter, there's nothing you could do that would make..."

I shook my head. "I can't change what I am. And even if I could, there's my job to consider. My employers... Well, let's say you don't just walk away from them."

Sally looked up. "Amy... You don't really work for a government agency, do you?"

"No."

She reached for my hand. "There must be something we can do. You could go and stay with my aunt, she lives in an out-of-the-way place nobody's ever heard of."

I avoided her eyes. "Trust me, they're insanely good at finding things – and they never give up."

"What about the authorities? You must have... information, something they can use. They'd be able to protect you."

I was about to reply, when people started to spill from the church door, the service over.

Tim found us. "Are you OK, Amy?"

Sally glanced at him. "Dad, can we go out somewhere for lunch? We need to talk."

Tim nodded. "Sure."

We walked back to the house in silence, and Tim unlocked the car. Sally and I got into the back seat, and Tim started the engine.

"I know where we can go," he said. He set off out of town, turning off onto a narrow road leading up to the rocky edge overlooking the valley.

Tim concentrated on driving, slowing to avoid the sheep that strayed or lay sprawled onto the edge of the tarmac. We reached the top, and Tim continued on, the road dipping down again and winding into a steep, thickly-wooded valley.

Just before the road flattened out, Tim pulled into the car park beside a stone-built pub with an eagle on its sign.

"The food here is great," said Tim, "and it's out of the way, I thought that would suit us."

We got out of the car and went in, finding a table. "I can't promise cocktails," said Tim, "but what can I get you two to drink?"

"Just a shandy for me," said Sally.

"Amy?"

"Sure, the same," I said.

Tim went to the bar and Sally again took my hand. "You know you can trust Dad."

I nodded, reflecting on this strange human trait of placing trust in fallible people.

Tim returned with a tray. "Right, girls, two shandies."

He put our drinks on the table, then picked up his own glass. "A pint of decent real ale for me."

He sat down, and Sally glanced at me. "Go on, Amy."

I felt again the tinge of nausea I'd experienced in the church. I took a deep breath.

"Tim, everything I've told you till now has been a lie."

His eyes widened, but he didn't speak.

"I was sent here by the organisation I work for, and my target... was you."

I heard Sally gasp. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I was just given my instructions."

Tim leaned forward. "What exactly were you supposed to do? Industrial espionage? Insider information for a hostile takeover?"

I shook my head. "Not the company. You."

"But why?" Tim repeated Sally's question.

"I wasn't told. But the ones I work for are very good at what they do. They specialise in making things... unpleasant, for anyone who crosses them."

I saw Tim shiver visibly. "I can't imagine what I could possibly have done to offend them."

He glanced at Sally, and I sensed that his first concern was for his daughter.

"Amy," he said, "listen to me. You're the only one who knows how any of this works. Will you help us? I know I'm asking you to put yourself in jeopardy."

I felt something change inside me, with a sense of nagging familiarity I didn't have time to explore. "Yes."

I saw Tim relax. "Well, we need to make plans. But let's get something to eat first?"

Sally picked up the menu. "Don't know about anyone else, but I really like the sound of the chef's special – look, beef ragout?"

Tim nodded. "Sounds good to me. Amy?"

"Sure."

Tim walked to the bar to order our food, and Sally turned to me. "Are you OK?"

I smiled wryly. "I don't think there's any going back from here."

Tim came back to the table. "About five minutes, she said."

He turned to me. "The first thing I need to understand is, how much time do we have? When will your superiors realise something's wrong?"

I thought for a moment. "This was a long-term assignment, but they don't trust anyone – I'm certain another operative will check up on me, but I have no idea how often."

Tim nodded. "Makes sense. So whatever we decide to do, it needs to be soon."

"Amy," Sally interjected, "you said they could find you wherever you went. Is there anywhere at all that's safer, where we could get some help or protection?"

I visualised the blue-green globe spinning in blackness, and the little strategic information I'd overheard before I came on this assignment.

"There are a few places," I said thoughtfully, "if we can reach one."

Tim took a deep breath. "Well, no sense in half measures. We should go back to the house, put together what we can, and get going."

He shook his head. "I'll have to dig into the savings – sorry, Sally, this is going to hurt your college fund."

I glanced at Sally. "Maybe not."

"What do you mean?" asked Tim.

"I have some... capabilities," I said carefully. "I can get us virtually anything we need in terms of money, travel, permits. The only way we could be held up is if we run into another operative."

"What happens then?" asked Tim.

I hesitated. "We'll have to hope for an act of God."

I braced myself for the scalding sensation I expected on saying that last word, but to my vast surprise there was only a moment's bitter taste, then nothing.

Tim looked at me incredulously. "That's it? Hope for a thunderbolt from heaven?"

I looked across the table. "I know Sally understands."

I turned to her. "Sally... This might be hard for you to grasp, but everything you've believed – it's more true than you could possibly imagine."

I saw the emotions chase across her face – fear, incredulity, hope. "Amy, tell me one thing."

"Ask away."

She glanced at Tim, then took a deep breath. "Those two guys at the club. You didn't really pull a gun on them, did you?"

I ignored Tim's startled look. "No. I showed them something. A glimpse of a reality they weren't prepared for."

Sally nodded. She turned to Tim. "Dad, I know you've got little reason to believe Amy, given what's happened. But I know you trust me."

Tim nodded slowly.

I heard the emotion in Sally's voice. "Please, try to believe this."

"OK," said Tim. "I'll give it a shot."

Sally got up from her seat and wrapped her arms round him. "Thanks, Dad. I just know that things'll happen along the way to convince you it's true, you'll see."

A waitress approached the table. "Sorry about the wait."

Tim smiled at her. "No problem."

We started to eat, and Sally said, "This is good – I see why this place has the reputation it does."

Tim sipped at his beer. "I suppose I'd better make the most of this – who knows where we'll end up."

When we'd finished our meal, Tim glanced around. "Well, we'd better get going." We walked back to the car, and Tim started the engine. "So, home first then."

We retraced our route to the house, and I followed Tim and Sally into the kitchen.

"So, Amy," began Tim. "What should we pack?"

I made a decision. "OK. Clothes for a hot climate, but a few warm things too. Sunscreen. If you have hats, pack those."

Sally managed a weak smile. "Great – I can work on my tan."

Tim stood up. "OK – I'll go and get the suitcases out."

He went up the stairs, and we heard a thump, then another as he pulled cases from a shelf.

"Right," he called down the stairs. "Better get cracking."

Sally and I went up, and Sally picked up the nearest case. "This is the one I always used to use when we went away."

She glanced at me. "You don't really have much stuff, do you, Amy?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about me."

We went into Sally's room, and she started to open drawers, piling clothes on the bed. "I'm definitely taking those two dresses we wore yesterday, and the black one."

I watched as she folded everything neatly, piling things into her case. She closed the lid, and put the case on the floor. I picked it up. "It's not that heavy."

Sally dabbed at her eyes. "It's not much to start a new life with. Do you think we'll come back?"

"I don't know." I felt a strange impulse, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "I'll do my best for you."

She put her hand on mine. "I know. Thanks, Amy."

Tim looked round the door. "Ready then?"

Sally glanced up. "OK, Dad."

We went down the stairs, and Tim said, "I assumed we'd being going to the airport, so I called a taxi."

I nodded. We heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, and Tim opened the door, taking our two cases outside.

The driver put the cases in the boot, and we got into the taxi.

"Airport, right?" asked the driver. "Do you have your flight number?"

Tim glanced at me, and I shook my head. "Just drop us at the international departure area."

"OK."

We set off, and Sally looked back at the house as we drove out of the gates, then looked away, a determined expression on her face.

The traffic was light, and we were soon pulling into the dropoff area at the airport. Sally found a trolley and we piled our cases on, then Tim pushed it through into the check-in area.

He stopped the trolley at a distance from the row of desks, looking up at the airline logos. "OK, Amy, you said you didn't need me. Time for you to do whatever it is you do."

I glanced at the departure board, then walked purposefully over to one of the booking desks. The young woman behind the desk looked up as I approached, her makeup emphasising her flawless skin and dark eyes.

"Hi, can I help you?"

I smiled, already reaching out to sense the thoughts passing over the surface of her mind. "I'm hoping you have three seats available on today's flight 18."

She glanced at her screen, and I saw the image in her mind of an empty row in the upper section of the aircraft.

She looked up. "We have three together in business class."

I nodded. "That'd be fantastic."

As she tapped in our details, I reached into her mind and adjusted just a few strands of thought, taking more care than I might have done previously. I saw her eyes lose focus momentarily, then she regained her concentration.

The printer on the desk whirred, and she handed me a sheet of paper. "Thank you – do enjoy your flight."

I walked back to Tim and Sally. "All sorted."

Tim looked at me with a puzzled smile. "If you say so."

I looked at the departure board. "We should check in."

I walked towards the check-in desks, and Sally grinned at me as I headed for the business class sign.

Tim handed me his passport and Sally's, and started to unload the cases onto the belt. I put the booking sheet and the two passports on the counter, and smiled at the young man behind the desk.

He picked up the documents, and again I briefly manipulated what he saw, convincing him that everything was in order.

He tagged the cases and printed our boarding passes. "Have a good flight."

We walked towards the "Passengers Only" sign, and Tim said, "I really have to see how you handle this, Amy."

"Actually," I grinned, "this will be the easiest part."

We walked through to the security area, and I approached the nearest uniformed officer. A quick touch of his mind, and he was immediately alert, his eyes looking at us keenly. "Follow me."

He led us to a door at one side, swiping his card and shielding one hand with the other as he entered a sequence of digits. We went through the door, finding ourselves in a featureless corridor. Our escort pointed. "Through the double doors at the end, you'll be in the departure area.

I followed him with my mind, and as he reached his station, I quickly blurred any memory of the last five minutes.

"Right," I said. "We have a little while before we have to board – Tim, how about you buy us a coffee and a Danish pastry each."

We found a coffee shop, and Sally and I sat down while Tim went to the counter.

Sally turned to me. "How did you really do all that?"

I paused. "Sally, it's not something I can easily describe, but I can show you."

She glanced across the table hesitantly. "OK."

I touched her hand, reaching out to her mind. I saw her eyes widen as she sensed my presence in her thoughts, and I withdrew again, making sure I left her mind undisturbed.

Tim returned carrying a tray. He glanced at Sally. "Are you OK?"

She nodded. "No problem, Dad."

I glanced at the tray. "Cinnamon whirl, apple Danish, pecan and maple. Reminds me of something..."

Sally grinned. "When Dad finds a formula, he sticks to it."

Tim sipped his coffee. "Are you going to tell us where we're going yet?"

I smiled. "Well, I can tell you the first stop – we'll be boarding in a moment anyway. We'll be flying to the Middle East, but that's only half way to our final destination."

Tim nodded. "Makes sense." We took our time over our pastries, and as Sally was running her finger over her plate to get the last crumbs, I glanced at the departures board.

"We can board now," I said.

When we reached the departure gate, I presented our boarding cards and we walked down the corridor toward the plane, Sally's heels clicking on the metal floor.

We reached the door, and the stewardess greeted us. "Welcome aboard." She directed us up a set of steps, and another attendant showed us to our seats.

Tim settled into his seat. "I could get used to this," he said, fastening his lap belt.

We heard the engines spin up, and Sally's face displayed a mixture of anticipation and fear. "This is the bit I don't really like."

The plane started to move, and she closed her eyes. I touched the surface of her mind, and I saw her smile. "Amy, I can feel you."

"I thought it might help," I said softly.

The note of the engines rose to a scream, and the plane hurtled down the runway, the nose finally lifting into the air.

Tim glanced at me. "Well, for better or worse, we're on our way."