was to repair the world, to perform tikkun olam using the one, true Kabbalah and not the bastardization of the tradition practiced by the goyim.
Besides, he would never be pure enough. Not after all he'd done.
He said, 'Well, I get what you're driving at, but it's totally different. My tradition calls it gilgul. But that can only happen to the very good and if the host spirit is willing to give up its place in the body. I'm not very good.'
'But look at us. We've both lost people we love, and we've been drawn together to this place.'
'Alana, I'm not Lee. There's only me in here.'
'I know that. I'm not asking you to be Lee. I can never be Rachel. But there's something between us. You feel it, right?'
He gathered her in his arms. 'I feel you. Has it occurred to you that we're seeing the reflection of what we want and not what's real?'
'This is real.' She brushed her lips against his. She pressed his hand to her breast. 'I'm real. Maybe this is our fate-to be here, to be together.'
'Alana, I can't…'
'Why not? If the rift's there, it's been there off and on for centuries. Millennia. You could stay here. We could.'
He was tempted. To be free of the ever-watchful presence of the Rebbe, even if it was a shackle he'd donned willingly. (Had he? Could any man a hair's breadth from suicide be said to be in his right mind?) Free of the world and its demands. Just… free. Could the Rebbe even project into this valley? He didn't know, though he thought not; surely, the Rebbe would've come looking for him already and since he hadn't… God, he deserved some happiness. He was so tired, but… 'I'm sorry, but I can't.' He took her face in his hands and kissed first one cheek and then the other, and tasted salt. 'You know I can't. Don't you see? I'd be exchanging one prison for another. We could never leave. As soon as we're within range of a node…'
'Shadowrunners do it.'
'What kind of life is that? Alana, I have to finish what I've begun.'
'No, you don't have to. You want to.' She straddled his body, her hands flat on his chest. Her shark's tooth was an ivory teardrop in the hollow of her throat. 'There's an old saying amongst my people: Kupau wau i ka mano… I am finished to the big shark, all consumed by the big shark, I am finished.'
'Your people celebrate becoming dinner?'
She twisted a handful of his chest hair. 'Don't be a smart ass. Sharks are single-minded, they don't stop. You're like that. You're consumed. You've given yourself over to this Rebbe of yours…'
'Yes, but not for tonight,' he said, and held her close. 'Tonight I give myself to you. I give myself to us.'
'Then stay with me as long as you can,' she murmured into his mouth, 'and love me. Love me.'
IV
May 9
He was cold. His head hurt. His chest felt like he'd broken every single rib in maybe three places. He tried pulling in air. Had a panicky instant when nothing came but then did, only hard, like he was sucking air through a straw. Jesus… His brain was woolly, his thoughts mushy… was he running out of air? How long was he out? A lancet of pain, and he moaned.
'Easy.' A man's voice. 'Take it easy.'
'Daniel?' A woman. Far away, like they'd stumbled onto a bad bandwidth. 'Daniel?'
'Ungh,' he croaked.
'Daniel.' Then to someone else: 'What's wrong with him?'
The man: 'He clocked himself pretty good. Still bleeding.'
'Oh God.' Alana pressed her hand to Daniel's head just behind his left ear.
'Ow,' Daniel said.
'Hey now,' said the man. 'That's better.'
Speak for yourself. Daniel's eyes slowly cranked open and for a second, he thought maybe his head injury was way worse than he thought because, except for a single ball of excruciatingly bright light spiking his eyeballs, everything was shadowy, inky black.
Then he got it. They were still in the water. In a cave. Well, a lava tube. Same diff because they were still screwed.
'Get that fucking light out of my eyes before I break your arm.' He was appalled by how he sounded: weak and sick.
The light angled down, and then Alana said, 'Daniel, you hit your head pretty hard. There's a rip in your suit, and you're taking in water.'
'Uh-huh.' Talking made him dizzy, and trying to move made him want to throw up, but he let her help him sit up. The lava tube was cramped, with just enough room to hunch and turn but not much more. His buoyancy had changed now that his suit was heavier, and every movement made the darkness spin. Thank God his vest was waterproof…
The man, again: 'How are you feeling?'
'Like shit.' He slicked his lips, winced as a squirt of fresh blood coated his tongue. His stomach lurched, bile burned the back of his throat, and he thought: Fuck, no, not into my facemask. He swallowed back a mouthful of puke, grimaced. 'Who are you?' He answered his own question: 'Harriman?' He threw a glance at Alana, regretted it when his stomach rebelled at the sudden movement. 'You've got to be shitting me.'
'No bullshit.' She touched the other man's arm, and Daniel's chest went just a little tighter. 'I didn't believe it at first either.'
'I don't,' he said flatly. But when he viewed Harriman with his astral sense, the man's aura was there. Not real bright, but… He said, not very charitably, 'You ought to be dead.'
'Tell me about it.' Harriman sounded both flustered and relieved.
'No, why don't you tell us?'
'Stop bullying him,' Alana said.
'You don't think this is a little fucked up?'
'Of course, but before you go around slinging accusations, look at your dive computer.'
He did, asking for his HUD. He expected his air to be low; it felt like it should be. Maybe a half hour left, max (which, no, wasn't good). But his HUD said his fill was virtually unchanged from when they'd arrived at the seamount: a couple hours' worth.
That wasn't right. How much time…? He scanned the readout, looked at the elapsed time… and then looked again. Told his computer to do a systems check and read the impossible.
When he didn't say anything, Alana said, 'See? Time's slowed down. For all intents and purposes, time has stopped.'
'That's crazy.' He wasn't a physicist, but… 'Even if we're trapped, time should be passing normally within the bubble.'
'Well, it's not.' Lee Harriman wore a drysuit as well, and a full face mask. His cyber-eyes were silver-blue and very bright. 'It's been, what, two weeks? My fill's only gone down an eighth.'
'Yeah, but what are you eating? What are you drinking? Why haven't you died of thirst, or hunger?'
'Daniel,' said Alana.
'Alana, they found pieces of his suit. They said sharks.' He thought of the sharks above the seamount. Christ, what if they had gone after Harriman to protect her?
Alana was saying: 'We don't know that it was Lee's suit they…'
'Fuck this.' Harriman broke in, his voice edgy. 'Alana said you're a practitioner. So either I've got an aura, or not, right?' When Daniel didn't answer, Harriman said, 'Right. So back the fuck off, okay? I don't know why I'm not dead, but I'm not real sorry to disappoint you.'
'Bullshit.' Daniel couldn't read Harriman's eyes, but he hadn't spent time reading body language for nothing. 'You do know, or you've got a pretty damn good idea.'
