My Familiar Stranger (17 page)

He grinned. “Had breakfast. Club sandwich sans lettuce and tomato, at least I think that’s what they had once been. And thank you. For takin’ good care of me.”

“Please do not thank me. I feel wretched about the whole mess, but we’re taking steps to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“What kind of steps?”

“Storm and Kay have arranged to close the fitness level for the next couple of hours. They’re setting up a series of tests to quantify my strengths…and weaknesses, I suppose.”

“And this is when?”

“Half an hour.”

“I’ll be there.”

“No. Isn’t that too much activity too soon?” It suddenly occurred to her that this was the reverse of the same exchange she’d had with Storm the day before.

“My rib is taped nice and tight and tidy. Good as a cast. I’m no’ proposin’ bench press, just walkin’ to the elevator. Believe me, I have lived through worse than this.”

“But that’s a story for another time?”

“Could be, if you’re a really good girl.”

“I am a really good girl, but I won’t be asking for
your
definition. How about a bargain? I’ll walk you down if you promise to come back and be truly inactive for a reasonable time after lunch.”

“Like a nap?”

“Exactly.”

“Will you join me?”

“
No.” The elf was temptation incarnate. And relentless.

“You drive a hard bargain. Naps alone it is then.”

“Hallway. Twenty Minutes?”

“Deal.”

Ram emerged with wet hair wearing faded 501’s, a rugby shirt with navy and green stripes and a crisp white collar. Elora decided she was a fan of 501’s; something about the pucker between each button of button fly jeans draws the eye like a codpiece. Looking at his smile, it would be impossible to tell he was on the D.L. - short for Disabled List - if he wasn’t moving a tad slower than usual and ever so slightly favoring his left side.

“So, how are you feeling? Really.”

“No’ bad. I will no’ be takin’ any more sleepy medicines. I can sleep when I’m dead.”

Like Storm said, he was tough. Elora admired that.

“I noticed your fine collection of stringed instruments. Do you play them all or are they for collection?”

“I play.” He smiled. “I come from musical people.”

As do I
, she thought.

When the elevators opened on sublevel three, two young men that Elora guessed were in training moved in front of the opening, holding up their hands to block exit.

“Sorry. This level is closed for the next two hours, sir,” one of them said directly to Ram.

Ram spoke to them in a tone that conveyed a conviction that they suffer from idiocy. Gesturing toward Elora he said, “She’s the reason this level is closed! Kindly remove your dunderheads from your little, juvie asses and stand clear.” When the doors started to close, from pure reflex he shot his hand out to stop the progress, then pressed his lips together to keep from letting the pain show when the elevator door jarred his rib. The resulting expression could easily have been mistaken for out-of-patience-do-as-I-say-right-now-or-else.

The two young men glanced at each other and chose the better part of valor in obliging Sir Hawking without further delay. They dropped their hands and moved away. As Ram and Elora walked past, he instructed them not to let anyone else through. Then, just for good measure, he said, “If you two are the future of Black Swan knighthood, we’re in a lot of trouble.” He turned his back on them then smiled and winked at Elora.

Sol, Monq, Storm, and Kay were assembled in the weight room. They were surprised to see Ram come in with Elora, but gave him a quick briefing on the plan to catch him up to speed. It was simple and flexible meaning that they would basically make it up as they went along.

First on the agenda was weight. They agreed to eyeball Elora and guess how much she weighed in pounds. Taking into account her height, bone structure, and the fact that she had a low muscle to fat ratio, the median guess was one hundred forty pounds. After they had settled on an estimate, Elora took off her cross trainers and stepped on to the scale. It read two hundred thirty six.

Kay whistled. Ram looked her up and down with renewed interest.

Storm said, “That explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?” asked Monq.

“You remember the night she arrived I had a hard time picking her up? Kay had to help me. I knew she felt really heavy, but I thought maybe it was partly because she was unconscious and partly because she was… slippery and hard to hold on to.”

“And none who work the infirmary ever mentioned this?” Ram looked from Monq to Sol.

“Maybe they thought we already knew.” Monq looked at Elora waving his clipboard to emphasize his point. “Anyway, it’s an indicator of cell density, but it’s just a number.”

“You’re worried that I may be self-conscious about my weight?” Elora gave him a crooked smile and a look of disbelief. “I have more pressing issues.”

“Yes. So let’s get to that,” said Sol. “We have less than two hours to learn what we can.”

Storm suggested they go through a complete circuit of weights and machines comparing Elora’s performance to what might be expected of a typical twenty-three-year-old female in top physical condition. The results were astounding. Her numbers exceeded current records of males of any age.

Ram laughed at loud and then grabbed his rib turning to Elora. “I just realized you actually
did
take it easy on me. I could have ended up squashed like a bug.”

They were curious to test her for speed as well as strength. So they put her on a treadmill, but, at its fastest speed, which was twenty miles per hour, she was practically yawning. They determined they would have to test her outside on the track and then all five men proceeded to argue about the best way to do that.

After nearly two hours they seemed to be winding up when Elora reminded Storm and Kay that she was supposed to get an opportunity to critique their fight style. Storm blinked at her for a minute because he had, in fact, forgotten that he had capitulated to appease her in the moment.

Grinning ear to ear, Ram said, “Oh, this should be good.”

Storm and Kay danced around a little, not wearing gloves because this was strictly exhibition. Elora stood a few feet away. Within thirty seconds she had stopped them to suggest a correction to the way Kay was distributing his weight. It took Kay three tries to make the change, but, when he got it, he was impressed with the difference a slight adjustment made in his speed and ability to deflect.

She asked them to begin again. This time, when she stopped them, she gave Storm a detailed explanation as to how he was slowing his reaction time and draining endurance by carrying extra tension in his trapezius. She showed him how to keep his hands up while releasing that tension. He could tell that small suggestion not only made him instantly faster, but also allowed him to put more force behind his strikes.

Elora declared that enough for one day saying she liked to allow time for an adjustment to be absorbed and integrated before introducing something else.

Storm and Kay turned to talk to Sol and Ram. Both reported remarkable differences from just those few minutes of instruction, but everyone observing the demonstration was already sold. The implications were clear. If their interdimensional traveler was willing to share what she knew, she might give them all a better shot at staying alive. Sol turned around to ask if she would consider instructing. She was gone.

Storm, Kay, and Ram found her at the hub bistro looking up at a read out of the menu above the counter.

Ram came up behind her. “Can we join you?”

She shrugged without looking at him. “It’s a free country.” She stopped and thought about that and then turned to the three men behind her and asked them as a group. “Isn’t it?”

All three nodded and murmured assents.

“So what will you be havin’?” Ram continued.

“Deciding between cream of mushroom soup and a hamburger.”

“Get both,” he said.

“That would be wasteful,” she countered.

“No’ at all. We’ll eat whatever is left.”

Elora considered that for a moment, then stepped up to the counter and ordered the soup and the hamburger. She was completely unprepared for all the questions the hamburger order prompted. How did she want the meat cooked? If she wanted cheese, what kind of cheese? Which vegetables? Which sauce? What condiments? Bread with sesame seeds or without? Seeing her lost look, Ram interjected himself into the dialogue and answered the questions to please himself. Then he turned to Elora.

“Let’s start there. Before long you’ll know exactly how you like it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “You want juice?”

She shook her head. “Chocolate milk.”

He smiled bigger. “Excellent choice.”

She smiled back.

Watching and listening to this exchange from just behind them in line, Storm was feeling like a boy whose toy had been usurped by another kid. For the hundredth time he reminisced about the days when he didn’t have to share Elora with anybody else. Of course he didn’t want her held prisoner... exactly. But he didn’t mind being the center of her universe.

The four of them sat down at a table in the solarium. Storm and Kay went back to get the trays of food when it was ready since Ram was out of commission. She and Ram talked about food she had tried, food she hadn’t tried, but would like to, and food she used to like in her world.

When Storm and Kay returned, they said they were impressed with what she had shown them and that Sol was going to ask her if she’d consider training.

Elora nodded her head without looking up from the hamburger in front of her. “Sure. This is good.” She ate a potato chip and took a swig of chocolate milk through a straw like a kid. “I like hamburger, but chocolate milk is amazing. Do you think the others would be receptive?”

Ram touched his rib meaningfully. “If they know what’s good for them.”

Elora pressed her lips together. “I wouldn’t want anybody to be forced. That’s my only condition. If they want what I have to offer, it’s freely given, but it must be their choice.”

She reminded Ram about his promise to take a nap. He said the three of them had a meeting with Sol first, but it was sure to be a short one since he, and therefore his team, were going to be off the duty roster for another six weeks. Storm asked Elora how she was spending the rest of the day. Excusing herself, she said she had a session with Monq and was also trying to find some time for personal interests.

Back inside her apartment, she took a quick shower, changed clothes, and donned a long knit vest with deep pockets. The Black Swan Training Manual went into one of the pockets. A few chicken treats went into the other.

At sublevel two she exited the elevator without being noticed. There was no one near the part of the building where the dog was kept. People stayed far, far away from him which made Elora’s heart hurt all the more. Canines are the very definition of social animals. Forcing them to live a solitary existence is a cruelty that far exceeds heat, cold, hunger, or thirst.

At home the stable master had been a man who was equally good with dogs and horses, if not people. His reputation had grown and, even though he was gruff and unfriendly, people came around with problem dogs asking for his help. Elora had spent so much time observing that eventually the old man invited her to assist and apprentice his technique.

For today, her plan was simply to introduce herself to the unhappy dog and she did not expect to get further than that. When she turned the corner that brought her within sight of the cage, the animal leapt to all fours in one sleek movement, crouched, lowered his head, and began to growl. She responded by moving very slowly and offering verbal assurances that she meant no harm.

When she came within six feet he began to snarl in earnest and leap against the cage. She simply sat down cross legged in front of the cage, pulled out the training manual, and began to read out loud.

For the next half hour, she read while the dog snarled, growled, barked, and charged the cage. The noise he made echoed against walls and ceiling and was deafening. She couldn’t hear her voice above the noise and doubted he did.

Finally, his great chest heaving, head hanging, tongue lolling, he grew quiet for eight seconds which she carefully counted off. At the end of that respite she looked up into his eyes. Most dogs will not meet a human’s gaze for more than a second, but there are a few exceptions. This dog was one of them.

Holding his stare she whispered, “Good boy.”

He closed his mouth, picked up his head, and pricked his ears forward. And in that moment she saw all the potential this dog held in his great heart: the character, the courage, the intelligence. She tossed a chicken bit through the chain link so that it landed at his feet. For a second, he took his attention away from her and allowed himself to be distracted by the treat. She smiled and said to herself, "Yes, indeed, you magnificent creature. You and I are going to work this out." She put the book away and started to rise being careful to go ever so slowly. He growled a warning deep in his throat. She backed all the way around the corner.