Coastal Reflections

"A penny for your thoughts?" Though the voice was distorted by the breezes and sounds around them, Jacine heard the meaning clearly and smiled. She didn’t turn her gaze from the rock that had her focus, but stuck her hand out behind her, palm up. A small metal coin was placed on it, but she didn’t withdraw her hand. After a moment, another hand clasped hers, the penny between them. There was some scrambling as her husband maneuvered to sit next to her while still holding her hand.

When he was settled, she answered him, "Michael."

"Ah." The word spoke volumes of his understanding, and then 23 sat in companionable silence with her. Jacine loved him more than she ever had, for his constant support. She hadn’t thought it was possible to love someone this much. She studied him for a moment in her mind’s eye: 5’9, two inches taller than her; anglo-pale skin, though darker than her own; the dark brown hair that she loved so well, getting longer with their removal from city life; oval face with a straight nose, brown eyes, nice lips... Jacine laughed at herself -- the important parts of Craig-23 could never be cataloged in this manner. Physical being was nice, but it wasn’t all that she loved.

Jacine moved her legs out of the way of a large wave. There was a disgusted sound from beside her as 23 was soaked. Then he leaned forward to look over the edge. Jacine automatically made sure she had a firm grip on his hand, and took a quick look around for where her other hand could anchor them if he slipped. He didn’t, and said, "That was awfully high -- when does the tide come in?"

Without even thinking about it, charts of times and days floated through her head, "About a half-hour from now." The information didn’t stop with what she needed, but kept streaming though, one after the other... Stop!!!! she screamed to herself. Leaning against 23, Jacine turned her head to his chest, closing her eyes against the pain.

Jacine opened her left eye a little and watched his hand. Then she opened both eyes and tilted her head up to meet 23’s gaze. He was grinning at her, and Jacine felt her heart contract. After all these years, his grin shouldn’t affect me like that. She smiled back. But I’m glad it does.

"Umm." Jacine lifted her head off her husband’s shoulder and turned to watch. "Actually, there are about nine of them. They showed up about an hour before you did." She evaluated the water level and added, "I guess that was two hours ago now."

"Michael loves whales," she whispered. "Their strength and beauty, songs of the deep, effortlessly swimming through the water. Everybody likes whales."

Jacine smiled while watching the whale pod. She felt weight of attention being focused on her, and looked to her right. 23 was watching her with a question in his eyes. Her smile changed to a rueful one as she acknowledged his concern, "I don’t think a question will set off a Stream this time -- and even if it does, I need to heal somehow. Ask me what you will."

"Probably Humpbacks -- this is their migration route. Why do they breech together...?" It was Jacine’s turn to shrug as she considered the question, "Company, I suppose. They all have different lung capacities -- there are 2 calves, 3 yearlings, and I think 4 adults in the pod, though my count could be off. They’re probably feeding. 10 to 20 minutes is the normal wait before a resurfacing." Jacine smiled as the information stopped after she said what she wanted to, "That was better."

Jacine had fallen into a quiet reverie, watching the water slash off the rocks, and the statement startled her. Turning wide, green, eyes on her husband, she managed a "What?"

"Didn’t what?" Jacine thought little about changes within herself, was surprised to recognize that what he’d said about her was true, and even more surprised to realize she’d changed.

Raising her other eyebrow, Jacine expressed disbelief, "Even on your brothers?"

Jacine looked out over the ocean and floated the idea by, considering it. Somewhere within her, memories responded in like feeling, but mostly she just felt numb. "It doesn’t help the past."

He’s hurting more than I am. Blue-green eyes turned back to 23, "Barry Kline is dead. You and I are alive. I love you. Let go of it, Craig."

"Barry."

"He was a person. Insane, homicidal, recessive, psychotic, deranged, sadistic,... -- yes. But also sentient, self-aware, intelligent, thinking, plotting, sadistic,... -- like a lot of humans. As a person, he should be allowed the use of his name."

"I care."

Jacine blinked, the anger fading from her face. "I didn’t think you were." She smiled with an effort, "Craig, I know you better than that." She looked out to the ocean and studied the waves. The tide had come in while they’d been sitting there, and was going out again. The bottom of her skirt and her legs were as wet as 23’s now, though she couldn’t feel the left leg. The whales were still out there, in a different area of the bay but still diving, feeding, and spouting. Jacine sighed. "Old memories, Craig. I spent a lot of time visiting an insane asylum once..." And I’ll be very surprised if this doesn’t set off a Stream. "A lot of the patients were given nicknames by the staff, when they thought visitors couldn’t hear them, and I hated it."

Jacine was busy fighting down memories, trying not to be overwhelmed. To her surprise, the thoughts were being derailed easily, like her memory used to be. It’s an old association, and I’ve derailed it so much that the derailment is part of my memory now. Huh. I wonder if I can do anything with that? Belatedly, she realized that 23 had apologized. She surfaced from the Stream and looked at her husband.

Jacine snorted -- it was his turn for the meal. She quirked her eyebrow at him in acknowledgment of his subtle humor.

Jacine looked for the first time at the penny in her hand. "1943... 23, this is one of your valuable ones!"

Laughing with delight, Jacine wrapped both her arms around him and kissed him soundly, getting some tongue action in as well. When she pulled away, after some minutes, an astonished but thrilled 23 tried desperately to regain his breath. "What was that for?"

Green eyes narrowed just a touch as Jacine studied him, memorizing his every line and feature at the moment. She would keep the memory with all the others, and never grow tired of reviewing them. At this moment, her love for him filled her every feeling and being. She answered Craig with complete sincerity, "For being you."

"Lots of practice and years of denial of the pain." There was a pause, then Jacine humphed under her breath, and added, "But it’s probably not good for me. A walk on the beach would undoubtedly be better right now." She waited until he’d gotten up, then swung her legs around up onto the rock. Crawling a little ways to a more stable portion of the ledge, she retrieved her crutches and then sat there frowning as she tried to figure out a way to stand up.

Thinking happy thoughts all the way to the beach, Jacine paused as she arrived at the end of the firm rocks and dirt, and looked out at the sand. She spent a couple more minutes reflecting more on her love for 23, then concentrated on the task ahead. Drawing in a breath, she took the first step out. "I hate this, I really hate this," Jacine grumbled in automatic reflex as the crutches sank in the loose sand. Getting to the wet, firmer portion of the sand where the waves came in was a long and tedious process. But it teaches patience. Jacine growled at the inner thought that tried to find good, and it retreated into her mind. Carefully placing each end of the crutches just six inches in front of her, she had to test each new position to make sure the crutch wouldn’t slide. It would be easier to crawl. Jacine considered the thought seriously for a moment, then discarded it as she looked over the expanse of sand. It would be easier to crawl, but would be rough on her clothes -- and her leg.

A seagull watched her approach, then flew off, squawking its protest at having to move. It flew through a small flock of sandpipers feeding in the tides, and they also ran off, putting space between themselves and the person heading towards them. Jacine paused as she watched the chain-reaction extend down the beach, then suddenly stop, as if there was a line beyond which they wouldn’t be frightened anymore.

Reaching the edge of the where the high tide had come in, Jacine watched as the water rushed up, stopped several feet from her, and flowed back into the ocean. She just stood there, while the waves flowed in, out, and met in the middle. At last, Jacine turned to the north and started hobbling forward. It was an effort to keep her left leg raised for the hop, and with the firmer sand, balance wasn’t quite as difficult, so Jacine let her leg drag. She couldn’t feel it anyhow, so it didn’t make much difference to her. 23 would give her a lecture tonight, treat the various scratches and blisters, and Jacine would do the same thing again tomorrow. The reflection bounced off her earlier contemplations of 23. She sighed, and pulled up her foot for a proper step. I really want to be good, for 23’s sake, but it's such an annoyance.

Jacine watched more seagulls run from her path, some reaching take-off speed and flying low across the sand, others just using their wings for balance as they waddled rapidly away. What’s it like to run? Jacine stretched her memory back over the years. She remembered running in the Caves, across the Wastelands, racing Michael to the finish line. He hadn’t always won, either, though Jacine now suspected that he had regularly let her. She’d never asked him. Despite her eidetic memory, the impact of her very oldest memories had faded. They felt real enough, but they were almost like a VR experience, something that she knew was not real, or a movie watched one to many times. More familiar to her then the memories of running, was the feel of having her boot strapped on for support, the servos reacting to her minuscule movements to assist in balance where the muscle had been cut away. She’d spent a long time developing those boots, and sorely missed not being able to use them. It was a bit like not having a ring on after the finger has gotten use to wearing it consistently. But even when she did have the boots, she hadn’t always used them, relying on canes and the crutches, but at least knowing where her leg was, and knowing that it was hers.

At first, Jacine thought the spray from the ocean was getting stronger, then she recognized the moisture on her cheeks as her own tears. She hadn’t minded being crippled before -- actually, she never had thought much of it, period. But this was worse. Nerves up and down the leg had been over-stimulated, stressed, and severed in that final battle, and her leg was no longer her own. She could see it, but never feel it. Most of the time, she could get the muscles to respond, but it was like operating an auto-bot, it wasn’t a part of her. The regeneration attempts of the nerves caused the leg to spasm at unexpected moments, and then the nerves died again. Even the pain would have been welcomed back with open arms if she could have her leg back. To feel it, to know that it was there. To have more than the lump of flesh she dragged around. Enough. Jacine stifled the brief flare of hatred and turned her attention to where she was.

The smooth sand of the beach turned into jagged rocks leading to a cliff front. Jacine moved in as close as she dared, to peer for tidepools, and the variety of life that lived in them. The time was right, with the tide not quite at its lowest, but the evening sun was bouncing shadows off the rocks, making sight difficult -- and moving around dangerous. Jacine gave up. Backing carefully out again, she headed south, retracing her tracks in the sand, this time watching and looking beyond herself.

"Purples, Pinks, and Reds, with a bit of Yellow mixed in for contrast. The clouds are just right tonight." Jacine thought of Azami, and how the artist would have loved to paint this one. It wasn’t an O-Storm sunset, an incredible sight, but it was beautiful. The seagulls flew between them and the colors swathed across the sky, counterpointing the light. Dark outlines glimpsed and gone. The shape of wings outspread in a long glide across the sun... Jacine blinked at the after-image. "Dang. I’m really going to learn one of these days not to look at the sun."

Jacine grinned, and continued to watch the change of colors.

"Good day, Jacine. How were the waves?" Chester greeted her.

"Wet," Jacine grinned at her standard reply. "I had a good time. It’s quite beautiful out there -- would you like some data processed images?"

"No, it wouldn’t be the same. I’m enjoying myself here, thank you anyway. I’ll experience the real world when I’m sure that it’s real. Right now, everything still seems a bit like a dream."

Jacine nodded in sympathy, and she felt 23’s concern also. Chester had spent three years with them, but he’d been 50 with his ‘master.’ It was quite an adjustment. "What did you do today?" Jacine sat down in her favorite chair and leaned the crutches to a side. 23 put down a basin of warm medicated water for her feet to soak in. Apparently he'd prepared it earlier. He is too good to me. Jacine mentally promised herself to give 23 a backrub later that night.

"I’ve been learning the history chips that 23 brought back for me last month. It’s really quite fascinating. The goodness of humans never fails to surprise me."

Jacine broke the silence first, tentatively, "Was Barry Kline really that much of a... monster?"

Chester’s reply came back quickly, "You don’t even know. And I’m not going to tell you. It’s too much to think about. At one point, I wanted to delete all those memory circuits that dealt with him, but it’s my entire life and Craig-23 talked me out of it."

She had to believe Chester. Jacine gave a small, defeated whimper deep in her throat and laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder, "You were right, Craig. Balrog it is. I didn’t want to admit it. Even after what he did to you, to Chester, to me."

Chester spoke with a cringing spirit that showed in his voice, "Jacine, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry."

Hearing the uncertain tone of a person who thinks they’ve just driven away a friend, Jacine winced. "Not you, Chester. Never you. You saved my life and my sanity. If you perceive pain in me, it was Bar... the Balrog that caused it. It just lasts for a long time. Please understand."

There was silence from the speakers. A tear slipped down Jacine’s cheek, her worry now all for her friend.

"I do understand. Better than most, I calculate. I’m just not used to relating to others. But what do you mean by ‘monster’? He was the Master."

Jacine felt the sudden need to be closer than she was to another human. She moved out of her chair to sit on the floor next to 23, who wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into the embrace. "It was something that 23 and I were talking about earlier. Like you were saying, we look for the good. I could never believe that Barry was totally devoid of it. I had spend a few years studying him after the ICS discovered who he was, and I built a picture up within my mind." She snorted her criticism for herself, that was half a sob. "And he was so intelligent. The things he invented... But without caring, without the element of, as you say, goodness... Normally even the worst of bullies has something or someone they care about or love. Sometimes in a sick, perverted way, but... It’s one of the things that makes us human. Without it... Well, he could not have been 'human' without it." Jacine freed a hand and placed it on the side of her husband’s face. 23 gazed into her eyes, unshed tears gleaming at the edges of his. Speaking to Chester, while directing her thoughts and love to 23, Jacine finished softly, "23 calls him ‘the Balrog’. Even after all he’d done, I refused to admit that the picture in my mind was that far off base. I still thought of him as human. And that’s what’s tormented me all these years. But if I’m not responsible for another human’s behavior, how much less so am I for a Monster’s?" Finally, Jacine’s own tears started spilling down her cheeks, and she wept for the pain -- all the years of pain that destroyed a human and made him into a monster.

Jacine limped out of the bubble house and stretched. She breathed in the cool fresh air and stood while she listened to the birds as they awakened the morning. The glimmerings of the sunrise still could be seen though the trees, and the misty air sparkled with the reflections of the dawn light.

Shivering slightly, Jacine moved back in the bubble house, careful not to wake 23. She looked at the mess in the main room -- notes and projects shoved to all sides, some crumpled, most looking neglected and abused. The untasted soup was still congealing in its bowl, there was a puddle of spilled milk in the corner, and the bowl of water had splashed over a pile of flimsies. With a grimace of distaste that was replaced with a smug grin at the memories of the night before, Jacine got a rag from the kitchen corner and mopped up the spills after tying her sleeves up and out of her way. After she finished that, she took the bowl of soup outside to the spot about twenty yards away where they normally left their scraps. When she got back, she started to straighten the projects, but the loudness of rustles in the quiet made her worry about waking 23, and she settled for moving it into piles.

When she was finished, Jacine put on a thick cape against the morning chill over her kimono, and moved outside again. The crutches were hard to manipulate with the flowing sleeves, but Jacine wasn't going to stop wearing what she liked just because it wasn't easy.

Three months ago, she and 23 had put up the bubble near to the forest, but not in any meadow clearing that the long-term residents of the area would be using. There was a fair amount of asphalt on the ground, and 23 had speculated that it was a former parking lot or something like. Thinking again about the past, Jacine wondered what the area would have looked like a hundred years ago. The thoughts reminded her too much of Tangier, and she stopped wondering.

Jacine walked to the first few trees that weren’t exactly the edge of the forest, but either the remnants thereof or the first settlers of an expanding area. Jacine liked to think of them as the settlers, but 23 had cited their large size. Jacine had pointed out they were in mostly sunshine and would grow quickly. They’d had quite a spirited discussion on the point, and the issue was unresolved. Putting her hand against the trunk of a tree, Jacine fluffed the moss growing on it, and smiled at the delicate-looking, yet sturdy, little shoots of bright green. She limped onward, and paused to look at a rock that had streaks of quartz shot though the grey granite. She could almost see a little world in it.

A bluejay called from a nearby tree, angry at his territory being disturbed. Jacine grinned, and tried to see him. The jay was elusive, but she spotted a woodpecker watching her, and a few little brown birds flirting from bush to bush. Wrens. The generic term for little brown birds. Jacine felt a sudden sweep of homesickness, and allowed herself to experience it before thinking beyond it with no regrets. Regret is something that you would change if you had the chance to do it over again. Her eyes turned sad, there is only one thing I truly regret. The Tunnels. Her place of fun and games. Where the Saboteur had been living all those years. Jacine shook her head -- there was no going back.

Wren was living with Tamlynn now. With Gerald’s death, and the work Jacine had been doing with the ICS, Jacine and the ICS had made an unspoken truce. That didn’t mean Jacine or Wren trusted the agents, but there was enough relaxation all around that Wren wanted to try living in Island City for a few years to work with Tamlynn on some medical projects.

A large garter snake slithered out of her path, leaving the patch of sunlight for the security of the brush. Jacine smiled as she envisioned the personality of the snake grumbling and complaining at the interruption. Turning left at the next fork in the path she was following, Jacine chose a route that would take her back close to camp. The sun definitely was now up, but the mist remained. Jacine thought about the clouds that made up the nice sunset the night before, and shrugged slightly, summer is ending. Fall was a hard season to tell on the West Coast. The trees didn’t change color. The only real sign of the change was the weather and the behavior of the animals. Wait a second... Whales? The migration of the Humpbacks was generally towards the beginning of the summer, not the end. The corners of Jacine’s mouth twitched, then she laughed out loud, startling the nearby animals. And I’d only thought last night seemed like forever!

Okay, summer’s not ending. Just a batch of errant rainclouds floating our way. A snort that didn’t fit her mood interrupted her. Jacine looked up from the path she was staring at, and stopped her forward movement. Five elk were blocking the route ahead, and one had swung its head around to look at her. The snort had been a warning. Oops. Jacine stayed where she was. Elk were nice to look at, but an angry one could be dangerous indeed. The small herd continued on towards the beach, the last one cautiously watching her until they were out of sight. Jacine breathed out the stale air she’d been holding. 23 would not be happy if I got into trouble before seven in the morning. Her lips moved up in a smile, but the elk were magnificent. I’m glad I saw them.

Jacine headed back to camp, pausing now and again to look at some interesting rock or tree, or just to drink in the scenery. When she got to the bubble house, she hesitated before opening the door, not wanting to break the mood she’d gotten into. When she entered, all was still and quiet within -- a contrast with the outside.

Limping as quietly as she could into the bedroom, Jacine paused while looking at her husband. 23 was lying on his back with the covers up to his chest, his arms crossed over his head. As Jacine stood there, his eyes opened and a brown gleam twinkled at her.

"Good morning." 23’s voice showed he’d been awake for awhile, if not up.

Jacine moved to the bed and sat down on it next to him. She leaned down for a kiss. "Morning." Jacine had only planned on a quick kiss, but 23 had other ideas. His arms moved around to encircle her and draw her closer yet to him. Her crutches fell to the floor and Jacine didn’t try and keep her balance as she collapsed from her seated position to one sprawled across his body. There were several long confusing moments as Jacine wasn’t aware of anything but their two mouths locked together.

At last, 23 released her. Jacine looked into his eyes, inches away from hers, and she growled playfully. "After a greeting like that, you’re just going to stop? I warn you, your actions have aroused all my predatory instincts."

"You felt a little cold from the outside. I thought you needed some warming up." 23 didn’t exactly reply to her statement with his words, but his hands moved between the folds of her kimono to continue what he’d started. Jacine moved the necessary inch to reclaim his mouth. 23 rolled them over so that he was on top, running his hands over her belly and breasts.

When next they separated for breath, 23 backed off and untangled the blanket from around his waist, while Jacine took off her cape and kimono. It was definitely a lot hotter inside the bubble house than it was outside. She reached down to take off her shoes, and 23’s hands were there to help her. He tossed them into a corner, and Jacine cringed very slightly as she thought of the mud on them getting over everything. I just cleaned up! She didn’t have time to think of it long, though, as 23’s hands and lips were suddenly at every inflammatory point on her body. Jacine moaned at the contact, and her body tried to arch to meet his. But 23 wasn’t letting the morning end that quickly.

"Pay-back time," he murmured in her ear.

Much later in the day, they were both up and about. Jacine looked around the area that she’d come to know well, and felt the stirrings of restlessness. She stood at the edge of the clearing and faced north, her eyes looking but not seeing. She attuned herself to the wind and let it move around her, feeling her soul detach to drift with it.