Authors: Clara Ward
Mei Mei complimented Sarah on her new outfit. “This is lovely. Is it hand died silk?”
“Yeah, Reggie picked it out for me. It’s from Malaysia, very nice for the weather here.”
“The skirt is separate or attached?”
“You see, they’re actually three separate panels,” Sarah displayed each part as appreciatively as she could, after noticing a glance from Reggie. “Each connects to the leggings at one seam.”
“They hang so nicely, a very feminine look.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if Mei Mei was just making conversation or was surprised to see her in fancy clothes. It seemed the less often she dressed up, the more uncomfortable she felt when people complimented her clothing, which discouraged her from dressing up and caused the cycle to repeat.
Her misgivings evaporated as she spotted the woman from the video leaning against a delicate shade tree at the other end of the garden. Aliana, that was her name, the one who taught tap and Irish step dancing. Sarah tried to ignore her, thinking she would never have the guts to approach a total stranger.
Howard said from across the table, “I guess you’ve made the best of arriving without possessions. Is the rest of your new wardrobe as interesting?”
Beside him, Lisa gave a knowing smile, and Sarah answered quickly, “Only the parts Reggie chose.”
Reggie had been facing away from her, talking to Robert who sat at the end of the table. Now Reggie and Robert turned toward her, Reggie smirking at her comment and Robert raising his eyebrows at Lisa who looked far too amused by the whole interaction.
As the group returned to safely swapping stories about Bangkok, Sarah couldn’t help glancing at the far tree, and noticing the woman still standing there, the grace of a dancer in her silhouette even without any movement. She tried to keep her mind on the group conversation, but kept being distracted by thoughts of the dance.
Then James happened by and Reggie began introducing him to the Chens.
In the flurry of exchanged names, Sarah decided she was brave enough to introduce herself to the dancer, and she wanted to do it now before she lost her chance or her nerve.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she mumbled, as she stood and walked away. What was she going to say? Reggie had identified this woman as not a telepath. How could Sarah explain why she was at this party or even in Thailand? Best to stay away from small talk and just ask about dance.
“Hi, I’m Sarah Duncan. I believe I saw you in a video Emma made showing Irish step dancing?”
“Oh, yes, I’m Aliana Carpenter. You do step dancing?” Her voice lilted, a British accent maybe, but her words, like her posture, seemed composed. A sheet of long hair hung over one shoulder, blond where sun filtered through but dark and thick underneath. The shoulder was tightly covered in burgundy crushed velvet, and Sarah realized it was not a tight top she wore, but a leotard with an earthy, crinkled skirt covering the bottom. There was nothing particularly stunning about Aliana’s figure or her face, and yet Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. The way she stood and moved seemed to ask people to look at her in just the way Sarah didn’t like to be noticed, like with the Chens a few minutes before.
“Well, actually, I’d never seen step dancing before today. I mostly teach gymnastics, but I really liked the dancing on the video.”
“Ta, Emma made that a few months ago, just before she joined the senior troop. Do you know about Dance Diaspora? What we do?”
“Ah, no, not really.”
“We teach as many different dance traditions as possible, to let kids get a feel, literally, for human diversity. We’re always looking for adults to work with us too, either directly with the dance or in other capacities. If you’re interested, maybe we could add a workshop on gymnastics?” Aliana’s focus while she spoke was so intense that when she paused Sarah didn’t know what to say.
Aliana smiled casually, teeth not too straight, green-blue eyes still fixed on Sarah. “Come along, Emma’s studio’s over here, we’ll trade a bit.”
Emma’s studio turned out to be a basement room under what appeared to be an overgrown, cottage-size terrarium. There were skylights that angled from the ground to a rocky deck that formed the base of the terrarium. Aliana led Sarah down a spiraling metal staircase into the cool basement room. She used controls on the wall to slide back covers from some of the skylights and slide colored filters over others. It was a little like standing inside a kaleidoscope, if a kaleidoscope had a springy wood floor and ballet bars on the mirrored walls.
Aliana pulled her long hair back into a scrunchy, which had previously seemed to be a bracelet. She pulled her shoulders back, dropped her arms to her sides and gave her knee a sudden jerk up and back down.
“Start with that.”
Sarah was shocked by the suddenness of it all. When had she last fallen into the role of student? Could she move that way in her new Easter clothes? But her body responded by matching the woman’s posture and step. Her tapered silk flew with the quick motions, and immediately she was into the dance.
They continued like that, Aliana demonstrating, Sarah copying, with Aliana giving a few bits of instruction “toes down . . .chin up” now and then. It was like the most intense moments of gymnastics practice, when Sarah was completely centered in her own mind and her body took on an energy she could barely shape. She’d never before felt that passion while working directly with another athlete.
Just as Sarah felt she’d grasped the fundamental stance and rhythm of the dance, Aliana said, “Now show me what you do.”
Sarah’s eyes cast about for a mat, knowing there was nothing but wood floor. Then the routine that had begun to form in her mind as she watched Emma’s video came back full force. Sarah was in the rhythm. She started along one wall with some of the steps she’d just learned leading into a handstand with a kick down, then she set out diagonally across the room taking the rhythm into a round-off, flip-flop, back flip. Her hands and feet slapped against the floor, sending tingles through her nerves. It was fool-hardy, unorthodox, and it worked. At the landing Sarah felt success, or maybe creation, wash over her.
“Exquisite,” Aliana gasped. “Show me how to do the handstand part.”
Sarah began to comply, but from upside down she heard fast steps clanking down the metal stairs.
“What are you doing?”
Righting herself, Sarah saw it was Emma, petite but clearly entering adolescence, charging in as only a teenager on her home turf could.
“Emma, come see this. She’s combined basic step dancing with gymnastics. We must have her in the troop.”
“You don’t even know her!”
“But watch –“
“I saw. I don’t care what she can do. Anyway, my parents want to speak with her.”
“Oh good. Maybe they’d support an addition to our program.”
“Don’t count on it.” Emma’s glare turned to Sarah, “Come on.”
Sarah was shocked as she abruptly pulled out of the dance-gymnastics mindspace she and Aliana had shared. How long had she been down here? She’d forgotten all about Reggie and the party. And why were the elder Johnson’s looking for her? She forgave Emma her rudeness as she kicked herself for getting so caught up. She said a quick goodbye to Aliana and followed the Johnson girl upstairs.
Outside, Emma led her away from the courtyard to a place behind buildings.
“What are you up to?”
“We were just dancing and –“
“I don’t know who you are or how I’m supposed to act toward you, but you stay away from Aliana or I’ll warn her.”
“What? I don’t think –“
“Don’t talk to me. Just go away.”
“I thought your parents wanted to see me?”
“I lied. I just want you to go away.”
“I think there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“Go away now, or I’m going to scream.”
Sarah was completely baffled. Her muscles tingled with the memory of new movement; her stomach curdled at the fury in front of her. She’d rarely seen the girls she worked with so upset with anyone but themselves. To tolerate this from a stranger seemed degrading. And yet, what could she do? Emma lived here, there was a party going on. Sarah was all sweaty beneath her fine clothes anyway. She might as well leave and hope things sorted out later.
She said to Emma, with more patience than she felt, “I’m sorry for whatever upset you. Perhaps we can work it out some other time.”
Then before anything else could happen, she left.
April 21, 2025 – Bangkok, Thailand
James had spent the morning setting up experiments he’d like to run. He’d even asked, well told, Alak to clear Sarah and Reggie to hear about his work. Yesterday had been the best day of his life since he moved to Thailand. Even if Sarah was just one teek, that would give him three genotypes to study, rather than two. The additional revelation of their relationship, however embarrassing, even explained the latest note without disparaging his research. Adding Reggie’s strange ability to all of that was like finding moas in New Zealand, so unexpected he wouldn’t mind even if it failed to pan out.
James caught himself with one foot extended, about to pace, now that all his preparations were complete. He forced himself to fiddle with the British schizophrenic DNA rather than getting worked up while he waited.
When he finally heard a knock, James sprang to the door and was surprised that Sarah and Reggie just stood there, peering in, looking tired and a little overheated.
“Come in,” he motioned inward, then forced himself not to repeat the motion as they moved unbearably slowly.
“Sorry we’re late,” Sarah said, as James shut the door. “We didn’t have a map of the university, and we got a little lost.”
“Oh, sorry.” He tried to lead them across the room and ended up having to wait at the far end. “I’ve set up two quick tests for Reggie. And if you’re ready to run some DNA, I could process that while we’re talking.”
“Ah,” Sarah buried her hands in her pockets, “You said we could discuss things first. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding DNA tests.”
James vaguely remembered this issue from the day before, but he wouldn’t let himself imagine she’d refuse. “Right. What do you want to know? Reggie, should I start your DNA sequencing?”
Reggie smiled, “Let’s talk first. Are you in a hurry?”
“No, not especially. Sequencing is just so slow, but what do you want to discuss?” James shifted from foot to foot and tried not to tap his toes.
“Well, you said you knew the genetics for telepathy. Is that all you want to test for? Could you explain a little more?” Sarah asked.
“Telepathy appears to be a simple recessive. The sequence is so new that there’s nearly no variation among telepaths even though the normal allele is completely different and mostly junk. The telepathy variant probably first appeared in China two or three hundred years ago. Some group of teeps brought it to the U.S., to California, almost immediately. For reasons we can’t know, they spread their genes surprisingly widely with non-Chinese. I recently isolated what may be the precursor sequence for telepathy, in a British population. I don’t know what it does yet. That part’s top secret, by the way.
“I have two complete teek genotypes on file also. Having a third would give me a much better chance of understanding those genetics.”
“You could ask Howard. He’s pretty casual about his teek.”
“Howard?” James couldn’t place the name at first. “One of the Chens? He’s a teek?”
“Yeah, so if you just want a third sample—“
“That’s wonderful,” and it was, but he couldn’t let Sarah’s data slip away like that, “You have to understand, trying to solve a multifactoral problem like this with even four samples, may be an impossible challenge. You’re data could be invaluable, especially if you turn out not to have the telepathy sequence. We haven’t previously looked for telekinesis in non-telepaths. I’m authorized to pay you quite well, by the way.”
“And you share what you find with the Thai government?” Sarah asked.
“I have a scientific liaison who oversees my funding and my classified research, but I’m the only person with access who really understands it. What are you worried about?”
Sarah’s eyes looked damp and her words came a little faster. “I don’t want to be used as a weapon prototype. I don’t want to be cloned or have my DNA spliced into other people who might be used as tools. I don’t want anyone else with my abilities tracked down based on my DNA.”
Reggie put a protective arm around Sarah’s shoulders, and James realized they were all still standing. He moved two chairs in front of his desk and by the time he reached his own the others were seated. Sarah no longer looked close to tears, but James couldn’t help feeling guilty. What seemed a windfall to him created a painful decision for her, and he’d never dealt with such a reaction. He had to have the data, but he didn’t know how to explain the rightness of it to Sarah.
“What about science?” James asked in a voice suddenly soft and slow. “Should we stop trying to understand because we might face tough choices? This is what we are, how we work. Anyway, there’s a good chance the Chinese have already figured out teeks. Someone will figure it out whether you help or not, and they’re much more likely to do the sorts of things you fear. Or what if they make a targeted virus? What if they wipe out all other teeps and teeks on the planet just because we didn’t figure out the genetics fast enough?”