'She needs to get back to the hospital before she's missed.'
'Are you sure--'
'What else can I do? Another hour or two, they'll arrest me for kidnapping. I can't do anyone any good from jail.'
'You're questioning yourself.'
'Of course I am!'
'I want you to know that everything you're doing for that girl is honorable. You're the only one who's really tried to help her. You're the only friend she has right now.' Patrick's excitement was palpable. But he was fighting hard to hold it in, probably for her benefit. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. The movement did not seem inappropriate.
For a moment she allowed herself to lean into him and regain her balance. She looked up into his face, felt him lean in as well, his lips brush hers. Then he pulled away.
'I apologize,' he said, a look very close to shock on his face. 'I shouldn't have done that.'
'It's all right. I--'
He was shaking his head. 'No. That was crazy. I'm taking advantage of an emotional situation. It's just that I've witnessed something I've waited my whole life to see. It's overwhelming. I'm sorry.'
He turned and walked down the empty church aisle, pacing, a ball of nervous energy. She watched him go, not sure what to think of anything. Had she wanted that to happen? Had she been sending out some kind of signal?
'She's at the right age,' he said finally, turning back. 'Puberty often triggers psychic phenomena. We call it the poltergeist effect. But once she's older, these phenomena may very likely grow easier to control. They may even disappear.' He studied the light and the patterns falling from stained glass. 'I'm sorry for my part in this. I got carried away, I didn't think about how it might affect her. She's scared to death of it, I know. But you've got to understand what this means to me. She's revolutionary. She's one of a kind, all that you told me and more.'
'Just don't you try to exploit her, Patrick. I won't allow it.'
'You misunderstand me.' He turned back, and she searched his eyes for honesty. 'The important thing now is to teach her. She's going to face skepticism, fear, mistrust. She's got to learn to hold on to her anger. She has to learn that psi isn't a curse, it isn't something to fight, to be ashamed of. What she's been given is a gift, a blessed, extraordinary gift.'
'You're forgetting the fact that she's been involuntarily committed to an asylum and they aren't about to let her just walk away.'
'They haven't been playing straight with you. They know exactly what they're doing, and I'm willing to bet there are more people involved in this than you think. Look at the tests they've run, the missing information. Look at her file. They're going to try to push her. They may just push her too far.'
'What do you suggest we do?'
'She could disappear tomorrow. I know people who could make it happen. There's a network, you understand? People just like us, who want to help, who could teach her how to live with this gift of hers. More of them than you think. Anywhere in the country, a new name, a new beginning. She'd be in good hands, capable hands.'
'You're asking me to break the law. And what's the difference between you and the people I'm trying to get her away from? Do you honestly expect me to believe you won't end up pushing her too far too?'
She was struck by the intensity in his eyes. Patrick reached into a pocket of his coat. He showed her what he held in his hand; a shapeless lump of blackened plastic and metal. 'It's the number generator's CPU. We tested the circuits before you came; there was nothing wrong with the machine. She melted it down to nothing. Do you see that? Do you understand what this means?'
'Electricity,' Jess murmured. She took the lump from him and held it in her hands; it was still slightly warm. 'That's what it feels like. Some kind of electrical charge.'
'I don't know what it is. But I want to find out. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. There have been cases, once or twice a century, of people with a talent like hers. Uri Geller was one, though even his abilities were never truly proved beyond the shadow of doubt. But we all have the possibility inside us, I'm sure of it. It's just a matter of learning how to unlock the right doors.'
'Why are you doing this, Patrick? What's made you search these things out, what drives you?'
'You don't want to hear that story. It's really nothing special.'
'If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked.'
'All right. But don't say I didn't warn you.' Patrick gestured at the empty church, at the rows of pews, as if it would make her see. 'My father was a minister. I grew up in churches, spent more time in them than I did at home. But my father loved God more than he did his children. At least that was the way it felt. I was always trying to impress him, make him notice me. But nothing worked.
'Then one day, I was about eight years old, I ran away from home. I didn't get very far at first, it wasn't a real attempt, but I remember getting lost in the woods behind our house. Those woods were deep. It got late and I remember being very frightened by the dark. And finally I remember someone speaking to me. It was my father. He said, come home, son, come this way. And I just followed his voice until I saw the house again.
'When I got to the front steps my father opened the door. He didn't say a word, he just held out his arms. There had been people out looking for me, but my father had just stayed behind. He said he wanted to be there to guide me home.
'After that, my father and I had a special bond. I understood him and he understood me. And I never forgot that night. You don't forget something like that.'
'Where's your father now?'
'He died when I was seventeen. Diabetic shock. They put him in the hospital overnight, said he'd be out the next day. But I knew he was never coming back. I knew. Have you ever felt anything like that? Not a hunch, or an educated guess. When the moment comes you're sure, you've never been so sure of anything your entire life. It becomes a part of you, a certainty.'
'I don't know.' Tiredly.
'We're holding in our hands the key to a new kind of life, Jess. A higher life on earth. More spiritual, more peaceful, more connected. Mind over matter. Imagine the possibilities. I truly believe that it's just within our reach.'
'Maybe so. But you're wrong about Sarah's being able to learn to control it. She's barely able to hang on for the ride. And if you push her, if you try to dissect her like some kind of lab specimen, you'll be no better than anyone else.'
The door slammed open at the other end of the church. 'Two hundred beats per minute,' Gee announced, trailing paper like white fluttering birds. 'Blood pressure through the roof. Her EEG was off the charts. Temperature dropped thirteen degrees, enough heat energy to lift a truck. Big one too, one of those semis with the eighteen wheels.'
'Good Lord,' Patrick whispered almost reverently. 'And she was still on sodium amytal. Imagine what might have happened if she were clean?'
'I'm imagining it,' Jess said grimly. 'Is that supposed to make me feel better, or worse?'
'Give me the word,' he said with urgency, facing her, holding her wrist gently between two fingers, as if he was afraid to touch her. 'Just tell me and I'll have it all planned by tomorrow. She'll be free to live her life as normally as possible, I promise you.'
'I can't do that. I have to go through the proper channels. It wouldn't be fair to her. It wouldn't be fair to anyone involved.'
Patrick looked at her for a beat. He nodded, and did not look too disappointed. Did he know something she did not? Or had he just anticipated her response?
'All right. Here's my home number. Just tell me you'll think about it. It's a standing offer. For now, take her back, go home and get some sleep. You look like you could use it.'
