Passages

The Docga Empire is reviving failing planet G47—or Aarde—to return a long ago favor that allowed them to advance their technology. They have brought in a population of electorgs to work with the native people. Electorgs (from electronic organism), or ‘torgs, are humans who are physically enhanced with electronic components built into their bodies. They can ‘learn’ or download new functions, age up or down and are immortal, but still look and behave with their original human personalities. In fact, they were selected for the specific human gifts the Docga deem useful when each died in his own world. ‘Torgs chose this second life, are mandated to assist the Aardites and cannot allow any of them to die.

Quin has spent two years searching the planet with his grandmother to find his brother, whom they lost during the same battle in which Quin lost his memory. During one such hunt, they are questioned, attacked and Graen is injured. To escape, Quin cross-leaps using his gift of disintegrating and moving his molecules across G47’s portal system and lands on Zephuros. Seeking help for Graen, Quin meets Eve.

I’d traveled what I thought was the entire business district and had decided to question the next friendly face, when I found a side street I’d missed. A short one, a half dozen places on each side. Halfway down, a sign caught my eye and stopped me dead in my tracks.

Passages.

Could this be what Graenie had meant? Or was it a coincidence?

I stepped closer. This store matched all of the others, a modest two-story stone building where the owners lived above. The door and trim were painted green, a bit weather-beaten, but not nearly as neglected as some. But as I approached, lines of books in the display window sapped my excitement.

A bookstore. That wouldn’t help Graenie. I walked past, but the shop pricked at my conscious. Perhaps they had a volume on healing. Well, I could try that—a better option than baring my problems to a stranger. I returned. My hand stretched out to take the knob.

The door opened. Out rushed a pair in the midst of an argument.

“I won’t cover for you. Not again, Evan. That report’s due up and Evalyn will pitch a fit if it’s not on her porta-scan when she returns,” said a high feminine voice.

A broad back blocked my view of the speaker. It topped me by a good half-foot and spanned twice my bulk. The orange-coated back began to shake. With laughter.

“Eve, my fair nymph, not even you can say when that might be,” the blond man replied in a rich, but strangely accented baritone. “Let loose a bit and let me have my fun. It’s not every day I have such an invitation, and you well know it.”

The girl stomped her foot. “Oh, do what you want! I can’t stop you anyway. And don’t call me your fair nymph.”

“Aw, you know I try not to, but when you look like that, all in a snit, I revert to my past. Forgive me, my girl, and just remember you yourself have enjoyed many transgressions over the years. Here,” he pulled a palm-sized, leather-bound book from his coat pocket and waved it, “Borrow my guide and look them up. I shan’t be.”

The man thrust a little black book at her and strode toward the center of town without a backward glance, leaving a scowling but pretty girl with light brown hair. With her eyes still on the man, I had a moment to study her. She was as tall as I, five feet, nine inches. Average in size, about the same age, perhaps. Dressed in some sort of old-world costume—a long brown skirt and vest over a long-sleeved tan blouse. Definitely a native human. She turned, saw me and gasped.

Her full pink lips opened as wide as her piercing gray eyes, surprise clearly evident in every creamy smooth feature, the whole of them determined to draw me in. Her pert nose sealed my fate.

“I beg your pardon,” I said. “Didn’t mean to startle you, but the door opened just as I was about to enter and I didn’t want to interrupt …” I was rambling, so ended it. “Sorry.”

The girl released her breath. Rearranged her lovely face into a slight smile. “That’s quite all right. Is there something I can help you with?” She stepped aside and gestured me into the store with one hand, while the other clasped a pile of books. On top lay the black guidebook he’d given her.

I found myself not caring much about books.

But Quin is not the only character telling the story. Eve, the “girl” at the bookstore chronicles her share, also in first person, through separate chapters.

Pressing on his back, I got him through the kitchen door and seated at the table. I’d put on the kettle and taken out cups when he rose, all at once irritated—his emotions opened and created a current of change in the air. His annoyance wasn’t directed at me, but at himself.

“I can’t have tea. I have to get back to her. Find some help and …”

Ah, now I understood. He was distraught. He couldn’t resolve this situation. “What kind of injury did she sustain?”

He looked at me in surprise. He was on the fence, unsure, vacillating … I used my gift and gushed consolation. I forced the feeling from my pores and sent it across the space between us to wrap him. As usual, it worked.

“A cut. It seemed little more than a scrape, but she’s unconscious and at her age—”

“For the love of life, boy! Why didn’t you say so sooner?” I grabbed the medical bag from the cupboard, threw my cloak over one shoulder and yanked open the door. But he hadn’t moved. The tenor of emotion around him changed again. I’d lost him.

“Boy?” he spat out. “I’m not a boy. I have at least five years on you. If I couldn’t help her, then what could an adolescent girl like you do? My grandmother needs a doctor. Just point me to someone who knows medicine and I’ll be on my way.”

Opening my mouth to protest, I realized it would do no good. Five years indeed. Why if the insolent little twit thought that, nothing I said about my experience would penetrate his thick skull. Damn these natives! We were bound to assist them, and may the waters preserve any electorg remotely involved in one of their deaths. Well, I wasn’t losing my position because of this boy’s doubts.

I dropped my things on the table and spared a few seconds to glare into his chocolate-brown eyes from a distance that was probably too close. “I’ll get my mother. Wait here.”

With our combined fury inundating me, I raced up the stairs two at a time, unbuttoning my vest as I went. In the upper hall, I called, “Mother!” for dramatic effect, flung off the vest and unbuttoned my skirt. When I reached my room, I dropped the folds of fabric, kicked off my short boots and pulled on the pair of trousers I wore yesterday. Feet back in the boots, I yanked a thick angora sweater over my head. Should I leave my ring? Though large and very identifiable, I hadn’t taken it off in years. Could I function without it? No. Knew I couldn’t so I left it on and stepped to the mirror.

I scrunched up my face in concentration. My reflection wavered, my features reshaped. There? No, to this boy wiser meant older. So, I must shift more. My face settled into a near copy of Evalyn’s, a woman of about forty. With a snarl, I aged up another ten years and darted from the room, only to return to grab up a ribbon and hairpin. I swept my straight hair back into a horse’s tail, tied it off and wound the length into a bun I secured with the pin as I hurried down the hall, in a walk this time. More befitting my age.

Humph. Apparent age. Here I was, presenting as a sage. Learned, judicious, prudent. But still Eve.

After helping Quin’s grandmother and making a startling discovery Quin cannot accept, a last look at the “boy” she believed to be an Aardite native surprises Eve.

I walked a short way through the trees before turning back. My last view of him wasn’t what I had expected. The boy’s stance was manly now. Legs spread and arms crossed over a broad chest, he stood strong and firm before the little hut. His lips were drawn in a jutting, tight jaw and from narrowed eyes his brown irises stared.

The look he gave me was as vexed as his emotions. I was grateful I’d decided to masquerade as Evalyn, because then this enmity wasn’t in fact for me, Eve. Having someone dislike me so strongly was foreign to my life on Zephuros. I didn’t want discord. I especially didn’t want it from the handsome man before me. My stomach sank at that thought, and another.

Quin had aged himself. I doubted he was aware he’d done it.