Helen nodded and reached for Simon’s hand.
Amber knelt at the side of the sofa and gently lowered her hands to Helen’s stomach.
So much love and happiness helped deafen the unpleasant thoughts of all the others. Once again, Amber closed her eyes as she envisioned the tiny life blooming inside her friend.
“Try and relax,” Amber told her. “I can do this.”
“Reading minds now, Amber?” Helen asked with a laugh.
“You’re worried I won’t be able to do this and that it will hurt me too much. Let that go. Help me connect with your child.”
Come now little one… Where are you?
Helen’s tension eased and a flicker of another soul radiated. “Ahh, there you are.”
Amber hushed those in the room before they could ask questions.
So comfortable and loved. How an unborn child felt loved Amber couldn’t guess, but this child knew he was coming into a world of unconditional love and devotion. Then the strangest thing happened, he sensed Amber’s probe and kicked against her as if to say he was very happy where he was, thank you very much, and to leave him alone until he was ready for the world. All right, lad…I’m leaving now. But before Amber let the connection completely go, she searched for anything dark…anything of concern.
Blissful silence met her mind. It only lasted a moment, but it was there. Reluctantly, she removed her hands from Helen’s belly and opened her eyes.
Three sets of expectant eyes looked her way.
Amber connected her gaze to Simon. “Congratulations, Simon. Your wife will bear a healthy baby boy.”
Moisture gathered in Simon’s eyes and happiness punched Amber low in her gut.
Helen gasped. “He’s healthy? You can tell that?”
“I can. He’s very happy where he is for now.”
While Helen and Simon embraced, a strange wave of sorrow emitted from Mrs. Dawson. The sorrow was directed at Amber, for her loss of ever having the joy of a child of her own. Withstanding the bare touch of anyone proved difficult, anything more intimate she would forego. No, Amber knew she would have to enjoy the children of others.
When she moved to stand, all the emotions she’d pushed aside to search for Helen’s child struck her like a fist. She stumbled and fell into the table, knocking a lamp to the floor.
Simon hurried to her side and attempted to steady her. Her head swam, and nausea filled her throat.
“Her cloak,” Helen said.
Simon swiveled, grasped the cloak, and threw it over Amber’s shoulders.
She tightened the edges of the garment around her, muffling the outside world. It took several minutes before Amber could speak. “Don’t feel guilty, Helen. I wanted to do this for you. For Simon.”
“But you’re hurting.”
“I’m fine. Just a passing discomfort.” Only Amber knew it was more. Each time she attempted to live outside the cloak was worse than the last.
She knew her smile didn’t hide the pain in her eyes, but she kept it there anyway.
Chapter Two
2231, Los Angeles
Kincaid shed his costume, and removed the weapons strapped all over his body. He tossed the clothes down the chute to the cleaning room where someone would wash and mend any damage from the day’s battle. After stepping into the shower stall, he closed the door sealing him in.
He considered his choices for cleaning off the day’s battle, skipped over the dry shower, and hit the water button. It would take more than chemicals to wash the dead from his skin today. As the hot water poured from the rain shower, Kincaid tilted his head into the spray. He groaned and let the water remove the grime. Though he would have loved to stay in the hot spray for hours, he couldn’t be that selfish with all the others in the fortress.
He waved a hand over the chemical spray and let it shoot antibacterial disinfectant over his skin, and turned into the spray to catch the other side. After washing his hair the old-fashioned way, with soap, he rinsed it clean and watched the remaining water circle the drain. He could hear the pumps below the stall as it already worked on recycling the cast-off liquid.
He stepped from the shower minutes later and shook the water from his dark hair. It was getting a little long. Short cuts were a luxury he didn’t afford very often. It was hard to blend with warriors of the past with a haircut of the current century. He took a moment in front of the mirror to trim the thin goatee he preferred on his face before finishing his ritual. The light in the adjoining bedroom switched on as he walked through and stretched out on his bed. “Video display?” he called into the empty room.
From the hologram projector positioned above his bed, a digital screen lit the wall across the room.
“What can I do for you, Kincaid?” The voice of the room control was that of a woman. Her soft-spoken words always made him envision a long-legged brunette with bright red painted lips behind the voice. Problem was, the voice was probably computer generated, and his vision shouldn’t be anything other than soundboards and computer chips. But it still didn’t stop him from his daily fantasy.
“KTLA news.”
“Would you like me to interrupt the current broadcast or play from the recording?”
“Recording.”
He had at least thirty minutes before any of his team would be called for a debriefing of the evening’s events. Catching up on what had happened during his brief voyage through time was essential to his psyche. He needed to know that he was actually in his time…that the world hadn’t dramatically changed because of their interference.
The bright colored lights of the broadcast flashed on the wall. The polished anchorman sat behind the desk wearing a sleek coat without a collar over a turtleneck sweater. At his side, his co-anchor sported an over-puffed jacket with awkward shoulder pads. They wore plastic smiles and spoke false truths. There was no reason to believe the news would deliver facts…they hadn’t in some one hundred and fifty years…probably longer. But they did send out recordings of events…and with enough practice, Kincaid could peer through those events and pick out certain truths.
After introductions and short laughter about the unseasonably cool weather, they jumped into current events. “The president of Texas made a surprise appearance at the Governor’s State of the State dinner which took place in Westridge. It appears that both the governors of Northern California and Southern California are once again talking about following Texas in seceding from the Union.”
“Which would result in a civil war,” Kincaid said to himself. Though the secession was inevitable. History repeated itself…always.