As Claudia stepped from the cab and onto the sidewalk, her eyes were drawn upwards, as they had been every other time she had stood in this spot. The office tower that loomed overhead certainly wasn't the tallest that crowded the core of downtown Boston, a mere twelve stories of gleaming steel and glass. Nevertheless, it managed to project a certain arrogance all its own… or perhaps she was merely projecting the personality of the company upon its physical representation. The taxi, having been paid by a swipe of her ident-card as she'd exited, pulled away, leaving her with nowhere to go but forward. The passing strangers spared her little more than a glance, but she was so tense, wound so tightly in anticipation of what was going to happen once her coworkers and superiors in the company saw her, that even the most casual look made her want to flinch away. With a nervousness greater than anything she'd ever experienced in the courtroom, she straightened her shoulders, tightened her grip on the briefcase she held, and moved towards the entryway with a fairly convincing approximation of a confident stride.

It was a good act; she didn't look anything at all like someone who was in the act of committing career suicide.

Even at this early hour the July heat was already making itself known, and by the time she pushed through the glass doors perspiration was already prickling at her brow.

She tried to tell herself that the heat was the only reason for the rapidly forming beads of sweat.

Inside, the temperature dropped dramatically as she entered the quiet, controlled world of Barret, McCandless and Stone; one of the most prestigious law firms in New England, and the place to which she had devoted the last eighteen years. She walked briskly across the lobby, towards the elevators that would take her to her office on the ninth floor. In spite of everything she was feeling, Claudia couldn't help noticing once again the blessed absence of the pain in her right ankle that wearing high heels had been bringing with slowly increasing frequency these last few years. Her middle back too, which had given her trouble for ages, felt good as new, and would doubtless continue to do so even after a full day of sitting at her desk.

Yes, it's a genuine miracle of modern medicine, she thought bitterly. And I would be grateful, if only the cost of it hadn't been so high… and I don't mean the damage to my credit account.

"Excuse me, Miss." A polite but firm voice intruded on her thoughts, and she paused, glancing at the woman ensconced within the large, circular desk in the center of the lobby. She had a bland, pleasant smile on her face, but her eyes flickered ever-so-slightly, showing her disapproval at what she saw. "I'm sorry, but only employees of the firm may pass this point without being accompanied. May I ask your business here?"

Claudia couldn't help but smile at the woman.

"Well, Suzanne, my business here is the same as it is every day; to make sure our clients pay us a million dollars, so they don't have to pay someone else a billion."

The woman behind the desk stared at her blankly for several seconds before realization finally dawned.

"My god; Claudia?"

"Nice to know you forgot me so soon, it's only been three weeks you know."

Suzanne shook her head in disbelief.

"Now you know that's not fair. Just look at you!"

She knew what she looked like, she'd spent enough of the last few days staring into mirrors as the Rewind-Rewrite processes finally finished their work on her. Basically she was the same as she'd always been; medium height, medium build, shapely without quite being centerfold material… but lately a few of the little details had changed. She smiled at the woman behind the counter, turning a bit so that she could strike a model's pose in three-quarter profile.

"Not bad for a forty-two year old, don't you think?"

Suzanne just stared shamelessly, her mouth still open in shock. Claudia dropped the pose, switching her briefcase to her other hand. She knew she looked twenty years younger; maybe even a bit more. She felt that much younger too, as the disappearance of the accumulated, nagging pains of age proved. Even though the revolutionary process made no claims to actually extend a person's lifespan (there were, in fact, some suspicions that it might decrease it by a year or two), its effect upon their appearance and sense of physical well-being were undeniable. In addition to youth, the slight but noticeable problem with weight-gain that two decades of office work and no time for exercise had given her was gone, and thanks to her newly revved-up metabolism it was unlikely to return.

"You look great," The other woman finally managed. "But—"

Claudia felt her smile slip away, and she nodded in understanding of what Suzanne left unsaid.

Yes, I know. 'Younger is fine, and slimmer is wonderful; that's what the senior partners offered you as a reward for winning the case for Infinite Spiral. After all, if not for you, then the Rewind process would have been tied up in the courts for another five years, at least. It's only proper for our talented, dedicated, but slightly-aging and unpleasantly-plump Claudia to be jumped to the head of the line, and reap the benefits of her work. But… why the rest of it?'

'The rest of it' was the result of the Rewrite process; the close companion to the revolutionary genetics breakthrough that Infinite Spiral corporation had devised to reverse, at least outwardly, the effects of age. Rewriting allowed for cosmetic changes such as hair color that never faded or grew out, as the hair follicles themselves were altered at the genetic level. Likewise, skin and eye color could be changed, and if the subject so chose, they could be changed in a very dramatic fashion. Claudia had taken advantage of those options, and now looked significantly different than she had the first time she'd been twenty years old.

Her hair was still waist-length; a deviation from the corporate-chic norm of shoulder-length or shorter hair that had been tolerated by her superiors because of her habit of wearing it up in a professional-looking style when in the office or before a jury. Now, though, instead of the nondescript dark brown she'd been born with, the fall of hair started out as something that at first glance looked black, but which a longer look revealed as very dark purple. By the time it reached her shoulders the shade had lightened until it was recognizably violet, and the final twenty inches or so shaded into a vibrant, neon blue. The transition from dark to light was smooth, not at all as gaudy as she had feared it might be, and the overall effect was as vibrant as it was eye-catching.

It was also very much against both the written and unwritten code of dress to which Barret, McCandless and Stone expected their executives to adhere. Claudia knew that, and if she had wanted to she probably could have hidden the extent of her transgression by putting her hair up in a chignon, with the bright ends of her hair hidden under the section which at least approximated a normal color. She probably could have… but she'd chosen not to, instead coming to the office with it flowing long and loose for all to see. That likely would have been enough to earn her a few stern remarks from her superiors, but when given the choice at the newly-opened Rewind-Rewrite center, she'd chosen to go even further.

Her skin was much paler now, so much so that she looked more like a wraith than a woman from south Boston. Her eyes, formerly brown and uninteresting, were now the same brilliant blue as her hair; an instantly noticeable, obviously unnatural color which was impossible to ignore. Thanks to her 'friends' at Infinite Spiral, she not only looked and felt like a twenty-year old, she had also taken on the wild and daring style of one. Indeed, now she would look perfectly at home at any of the wild raves which took place nightly in the seedier sections of town, places she'd never had the chance to frequent in her youth, being too busy with her studies, and then as an ambitious intern at this very firm.

"It's…." Suzanne had finally found her tongue, though she was obviously having to choose her words carefully. "It's very… bold."

Claudia nodded, smiling faintly at the woman's sense of diplomacy. She didn't have to be told that what would doubtless look perfectly normal in a trendy nightspot would also seem glaringly out of place when representing a client in the courtroom.

"Thank you." She lifted her briefcase slightly, inclining her head towards the elevators. "I know I'm technically on medical leave until tomorrow, but I wanted to come in and see if I can start organizing my backlog. I know there must be a mountain of work I'll need to catch up on, and the earlier I can get started—"

Suzanne nodded quickly.

"Of course; sorry for delaying you, I just didn't—"

"Not at all; I understand completely." She turned towards the elevators, giving the other woman a parting smile. "See you later."

Moments later, as she stood waiting for the lift to arrive, she took a moment to brace herself. Predictably, the encounter with the receptionist, and the expected shock over her appearance, had triggered the onset of one of the headaches she had been suffering for the last week or so. The technicians who had performed the procedures swore that there was no way their work was responsible, but Claudia had never suffered from anything like them before.

All right, I knew they were going to react like this; it's okay if they don't like it. Management can either live with it, or they can fire me; it doesn't matter to me either way. Her reflection, blurred by the brushed steel surface of the elevator doors was still outlandish enough to make her stomach flutter queasily. Stop it, She thought to herself, striving for an inner calm to match what she projected. They told me to go and get the Rewind treatment, they arranged it so that I only paid half of what everyone else is going to be shelling out; if they didn't want me to act like a twenty-year-old then they shouldn't have turned me into one!

A fierce stab of pain within her skull made her wince, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she clenched her jaw tight against a whimper.

Damn it there's nothing wrong with me! They've done MRI's, they've done CATscans, and there's nothing wrong. With effort she forced her eyes open. Stress; it was only stress, and she had had more than her fair share of dealing with that over the years. As if in reply to that thought the pain eased just a bit, and she sighed in relief. Movement was reflected in the polished metal before her, and she welcomed the additional distraction, glancing over to see a tall man standing at her shoulder. He was a tall, patriarchal sort, and her first, instinctive thought was that he too was waiting for the elevator, but a look at his face made her question that assumption. He was staring directly at her, glowering with open disapproval, eyes moving from her face to her hair to her eyes. The man wore an impeccable three-piece suit, and carried a dark leather briefcase like hers in one hand. His slightly graying hair was short and precisely styled, and it served to complete his image; any Hollywood casting agent would label him 'lawyer' as soon as he walked in for an audition.

Claudia looked away, using her free hand to tug at the jacket she wore over her own, female version of lawyer-wear.

I'm glad I chickened out and wore my usual clothes instead of the leather pants, or this guy might have started a fight right here; I wonder who he is? Looking out of he corner of her eye, she saw that he was still glaring at her. And I wonder why he's looking at me like I just rear-ended his Volvo? He doesn't work here, so how come he looks so offended by me? It's the people upstairs I'm going to offend.

Maybe it was just her new look; she was still getting used to people treating her like the much younger woman she now appeared to be. Perhaps the man had had an unfortunate experience with a rebellious, style-obsessed daughter, and was projecting it on the 'young woman' with the neon blue hair and matching eyes. Whatever his problem was, she devoted herself to studiously ignoring him, though when the indicator signaled the arrival of the lift she couldn't keep herself from giving a small sigh of relief. The morning was going to be difficult enough without adding a stalker into the mix.

With a soft chime the doors parted, and she stepped inside, ignoring the surprised and speculative looks given her by coworkers she'd passed unnoticed a thousand times before. She half-expected the man to step inside along with her, but when she turned to face forward in the elevator, he was nowhere to be seen. With a frown of uncertainty tugging her brows together, she leaned forward a bit and glanced from side to side, but the man had vanished. With a shrug, she leaned back and allowed the doors to close.

She'd not even made it upstairs yet, and already it was shaping up to be a traumatic day.

* * * * *


Chapter Two

The festivities on the second evening were as awful as they had been on the first, and all Claudia could do was try and numb herself against the tedium as best she could. She was being ably assisted in this endeavor by large numbers of frozen margaritas provided to her by the bartender in the main lounge. Once she'd produced identification which proved she was indeed of legal age to drink, he had proven to be most sympathetic. So far, though, the alcohol-induced haze hadn't helped make the cruise any more bearable.

I still can't believe it. She thought, putting her elbow on the polished wood of the bar and propping her chin in her hand. After that huge buildup, after I worked myself up to the point where I gave them every reason to fire me, the bastard had the nerve to not do it. Instead, he gets all concerned and sternly-fatherly.

"Ms. McTiernan. Claudia." He'd said, once she'd reported to his office in answer to the summons that had come just before lunch. "You have been a member of this company long enough to know what constitutes a proper, professional appearance, and what does not. It goes without saying that this… makeover of yours far exceeds the bounds of good taste, much less our firm's dress code." On her way upstairs she had resolved to argue every point, to defend her right to choose her own appearance just to see how far she could provoke him, but when the moment came she'd simply nodded silently, torn between dread at what was coming and a desperate need to have it over and done with. "However, it is my opinion, and that of our head of Personnel, that you are suffering from work-related fatigue, and so are not strictly responsible for your irresponsible actions in misusing the privileged medical resources to which you were given access."

At that she could only blink, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

"Sir, I—"

"No, let me finish." He said, overriding her attempt to resign as gracefully as the situation permitted. "Though you have given excellent service to this firm over the years, your attitude, especially during the end-phase of the Infinite Spiral case has not gone unnoticed. Specifically, your belated attempts to steer the judgment away from our client, and towards InnovaTech." Now he did show the disapproval she'd anticipated, if only for such a dire breech of protocol. "Surely you know that if you had been successful in your last-minute bid to sabotage your own case, you would have cost us a contract in the mid seven-figure range?"

Claudia had tried to control herself then, but the frustration she'd been hiding had burst from her almost against her will.

"Sir, if you look at the technical documents from InnovaTech, you'll see that there is little doubt that they developed their process independent of any research undertaken by Infinite Spiral. In fact, circumstances seem to indicate that if anyone is guilty of corporate espionage, it's Infinite Spiral itself!"

He shook his head, dismissing her words.

"No evidence to that effect was found by the court, and there is no doubt whatsoever that the patents for the processes involved in both the Rewind and Rewrite treatments were first filed by Infinite Spiral. InnovaTech has been ordered to cease and desist any work or research involving said processes, and unless they wish to be sued into oblivion, they will heed the court's decision."

She'd come to her feet, her voice shrill as she leaned forward over his desk.

"Those processes show real promise as a way to cure cancer! InnovaTech already has preliminary evidence that they can cure at least three of the most deadly forms of cancer known to man, and you people don't care that all their work, everything they've done, is being wiped out so that Infinite Spiral can become obscenely rich by using it as a new kind of cosmetic surgery?!"

His steady glare made her realize her aggressive posture, and she'd slowly eased back into her seat.

"Ms. McTiernan. It is not our place to make moral judgments concerning our clients or their business practices; we are here to represent their interests in matters of law. And in the eyes of the law, Infinite Spiral Incorporated owns all rights to the disputed processes and their application." He paused, and there had actually been just the hint of a predatory smile when he continued. "If I were you I wouldn't worry about the other possible uses of the technology. I'm sure that once their marketing division has decided on a strategy, you'll be seeing those cancer cures soon enough, so you had better buy up as much of their stock as you can, while you can still afford it."

Claudia slumped in her chair, barely aware of the look he was giving her.

"This case isn't the first where we've noticed a certain… oddness in your behavior." He continued. "For nearly six months now we've seen measurable declines in your performance, deficiencies which have only been tolerated because of your long association with our company, and your excellent overall record." Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she stared fixedly at a pen lying on his desk. "We had hoped, Claudia, that by offering you a chance at the Rewind treatment we would be helping to alleviate whatever emotional problems you might have been suffering." That made her raise her eyes to his, and he gave her a look that mixed disapproval and long-suffering affection. "And then you come back looking like, like…." He shrugged helplessly. "Well, you look like an extra from one of those heavy-metal music videos."

Scowling, Claudia went back to staring at the pen.

'Good.' She thought to herself. 'I grew up with heavy-metal, and those videos; I still like it, and I don't look half as bad as everyone's saying'

Out loud she said "You sent me to the clinic, you said the firm would cover half of whatever I wanted done there."

"Well, we certainly never expected anything like this." He answered. After hearing what he had said about her performance, she certainly expected to be dismissed from the company then and there, but his next words had been a complete surprise. "Despite whatever problems have lead you to undertake this childish display, I need you here, Claudia. Barret, McCandless and Stone need you here; you're an excellent lawyer, one of our very best in fact, all you need to do is get your head on straight. To accomplish that, we are going to provide you with psychological counseling, to help you get to the root of your problems and to solve them." So stunned was she at not being tossed unceremoniously out the door, she almost missed the rest of it. "Before that happens, though, we'll have to do something about your appearance." That had prompted an attempt at argument from her, but he easily overrode her weak protests. "None of that, now; it's settled. I'm told that it isn't safe to undergo the Rewrite process again quite this soon, so we'll be giving you a bit more vacation time before scheduling another appointment at the clinic; perhaps a cruise?" He nodded, satisfied that he'd thought of everything. "I'll have my secretary make the arrangements, and deliver the tickets to your apartment this afternoon. Relax, enjoy your trip, think about how you nearly threw away a fine career. When you get back we can see about changing this blue and purple nonsense back to something reasonable."

And that had been that.

Now she was in the second day of a three-day flight across the continental United States on a luxury airship called the Athena. Along with three hundred other passengers, she could eat the finest foods, drink the finest wines, and generally dance and party at any hour of the night or day, all while cruising serenely above the wretched masses and their earthbound concerns.

Concerns like cancer, from which tens of thousands would die before Infinite Spiral finally got around to applying its new process to something so prosaic as healing the mortally ill.

Her head pounding from the overly-loud dance music which leaked into the lounge from the adjoining club area, Claudia took another sip of her drink.

Of course there's no reason to think that they won't price the treatment out of reach of half the planet even when they do release it. She mused, staring glumly down into her glass. I know damned well they didn't do the research for Rewind or Rewrite, that they got if for just the cost of whoever it was that they paid off in InnovaTech, and they're still charging half a million dollars per person for the treatment. And that doesn't even count the quarter million every two years for the maintenance sessions, to keep everything from going back to the way it was, or even worse, because of the stress the whole thing has put on the body.

And I'm the one who won their case for them; I'm responsible for all the money they're already starting to rake in… just like I'm responsible for everyone who'll die needlessly because InnovaTech lost in that courtroom.

She looked up, at the mirror behind the bar, and her reflection within it. She still had the startling eyes, the pale, pale skin and the black-violet-blue hair; she would have them until she got back to Boston ten days from now and checked back into Infinite Spiral. For the first time she wondered if the reason she'd opted for such an extreme change in her appearance wasn't because of some urge to rebellion against her law firm, but because she could no longer bear to look at a face, a person, who had done so much harm. Maybe she needed to be able to pretend that the exotic young girl she saw now and the weary, older woman she had been before were not the same person at all… but lawyer or no, she just wasn't that good a liar.

Staring at herself in the mirror with a strange sense of loathing, she barely noticed the man who sat down beside her until he spoke.

"That's a very pretty girl." She looked over at him, tucking an errant, brightly-tinted lock of hair behind her ear as she did so, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at her reflection behind the bar. Turning her head back, she met his eyes in the mirror. He smiled. "Sorry, I couldn't help but notice you were staring, so I had to join in. And you're right; she's certainly worth looking at."

Claudia closed her eyes.

God, not another one. It wasn't the first time she'd been hit on since boarding the airship in New York; there had been eleven invitations so far, some of them far more blunt than this one, but she'd turned them all down. Not that she had anything against sex in principle, it was just that her life didn't need more complications right now, not even something as empty as a shipboard (airshipboard?) romance.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the man, watching as he turned to order another drink for her, and one for himself.

Not bad, actually. He's good-looking enough; not that I'm used to having the luxury of picking and choosing. It would be a shame, going back to being bland and unnoticed, with her brown hair and brown eyes. Of course, given that the Rewrite process would eventually be widely available (if still very expensive), it might soon be considered cliché to be beautiful. Maybe in ten year's time it would be the short, dumpy women with homely features who were all the rage on the Paris fashion runways.

She snorted softly at the unlikelihood of that ever happening. No, young and beautiful would always be in fashion, just as the rich and powerful would always be calling the shots. No one, most certainly not a somewhat-talented but easily-manipulated lawyer would ever change that.

Her drink arrived, but she left it untouched, rising from her stool as she swiped her card through the inconspicuous slot to charge what she'd already had to her account.

"Hey! Where're you going?"

She looked down at him, seeing clearly the lack of anything behind his eyes, the absence of anything at all except an instinctive need for gratification.

'Empty shipboard romance' is right; he's so obvious, does he think I can't see it? Or do I just have the look of someone who doesn't care if something is real or not?

Given the utter falseness of everything about her she thought it best not to think too deeply on that question.

"Sorry," She said, and only her long years of using her voice as a tool let her sound even remotely sincere. "I'd love to stay, but I'm feeling a little airsick." She raised one hand quickly to her lips and puffed her cheeks out slightly. The handsome, empty man looked suddenly less anxious to make her acquaintance.

"Ah… that's all right." He managed, turning hastily back to the bar. "Maybe later, when you're feeling better."

She wandered away, annoyed at being driven away from those lovely margaritas but unwilling to deal with a would-be suitor if it could be avoided.

The story of my life, really; following the path of least resistance. The lounge was dim, but it was too likely that he would spot her if she stayed, so she walked towards the entrance to the dance club. It might not seem that way; most people who lack ambition don't make it through law school, much less into a well-known firm. But mom more or less pushed me all the way through; she was so determined that I make something of myself. Then she died just a year after graduation… of cancer. She lived to see me get accepted at Barret, McCandless and Stone, but after she was gone I didn't really care anymore. Whatever I accomplished there was because I didn't have anything else in my life that mattered, so I spent more time on my cases than anyone else, plodded along more stolidly than most of the others.

Looking in on the dancers glittering in their fashionable, revealing clothes made her all too aware of how she was dressed. Despite her half-hearted try at youthful rebellion, she was still a woman in her forties, and her conservative silk blouse and knee-length dress showed that all too clearly; she looked like a teenager dressed up in her mother's office outfit. Besides, she had never been much for dancing, and the high-decibel music shrieking from the speakers was quickly rousing yet another headache. A final glance at the scene within made her hesitate, even as the throbbing in her temples ratcheted up another notch or two. The Athena's builders had apparently spared no expense when it came to outfitting their lavish creation. Some sort of holographic effect, doubtless aided by the eye-tricking lighting within the club, was making one of the women on the dance floor seem to flicker in and out of existence. The dancer was tall without seeming gawky, regal without pretentious, and stunningly beautiful in a stylish outfit of the same color scheme as the crew's uniforms; blue, silver and green. She not only seemed to be alone, which was strange enough given how she looked, but she was actually being ignored by everyone within the club, which seemed like the next best thing to impossible. To all appearances untroubled by the crowd's lack of attention, she danced in the center of the room, gracefully moving through the dancing couples who were ignoring her, flirting mischievously with onlookers who seemed determined not to acknowledge her existence… and all the while she shimmered with a faint, pearly aura. When she moved from place to place, her form blurred slightly, trailing strands of soft light, only to fall back into focus when she stood in one spot for more than a moment.

Oh; she must be just a projection or something. Claudia thought, feeling a little dense for not having realized it sooner. That's why they're all ignoring her; they've gotten used to the show.

Though that didn't explain why the woman had paused to stand staring back at where she stood in the doorway, looking in.

Claudia blinked in confusion, the raging pain in her head making her feel slow and stupid.

T-the disc with the recording must be stuck? She thought, shifting in place nervously. That was disproved when the woman's head tilted slightly, her eyes tracking Claudia's movements. With a smile the woman raised one insubstantial hand and beaconed her into the club, something about the expression on her face and the set of her body hinting rather strongly that the offer was for more than just a dance or two.

Shaking her head from side to side so emphatically that it set the blue hair flying, Claudia backed away.

No; none for me, thanks. Don't let the look fool you; I'm older than you think, and I'm an old-fashioned girl… that way.

She got a pout in reply, and then a dazzling smile to show that there was no offense taken. A moment later the woman had turned away, dancing her way through a throng of revelers who paid her no mind whatsoever.

Claudia retreated, feeling more than a little foolish.

That's so embarrassing; either she's connected to some kind of automated feedback program that's intended to get passengers into the club to have a good time, or there's an operator in a little room somewhere who's having a good laugh at me right now.

At some other time she might have been inclined to laugh along, but not now. Not when her head felt like it was about to split in two, and her vision was blurring with pain-born tears. Stumbling her way through a nearby door, she struggled to navigate her way back to her room.

I think… I need to lie down. Lying down would be good.

That, though, hinged on her managing to make it to her room, and what had been a joke few minutes earlier was now looking a lot like a prophecy—she felt suspiciously close to vomiting right there in the corridor. At the next branching of the passageway, she peered upwards at the sign, hoping for a bathroom, instead she found 'Observation Deck; Portside Forward' looking back at her. After only a moment's hesitation she passed through, waiting a moment for an airtight door to slide aside before moving up the gentle ramp within the dim, narrow passage, hoping she wouldn't meet anyone there. One bit of jostling now and her stomach might empty itself with disastrous consequences.

Luck seemed to be with her for once, however, and when the exterior weather-door slid back with a soft hiss of equalizing pressure, she found the platform empty save for herself. Her exit, though, did trigger a quiet announcement from a concealed speaker.

"Attention, passengers. In order to avoid inclement weather, we are currently operating at an altitude of two thousand, two hundred meters, and a relative airspeed of eighty-three kilometers per hour. While this is well within the tolerance of most passengers, some individuals may experience headaches, shortness of breath, or other difficulty at this altitude. Also, though there is no danger whatsoever, current atmospheric conditions may cause some slight turbulence, and moderate gusts of wind may enter the observation deck. We recommend you return later to enjoy the view, but this does not constitute a passenger-safety command. The crew of the Athena thanks you."

Claudia ignored the automated recommendation and walked out onto the deck as the door hissed shut behind her. If the message had been a passenger safety command, security would be on its way to forcibly remove her to her cabin, where her refusal to obey would have been grounds for her to remain locked in until the airship reached its next port of call. As it was, she had been warned that it wasn't a good time to be out of doors, and if she got sick or rained on it was her own problem. That wasn't something she worried about right now, though.

The space where she stood was perhaps three meters deep and six long, and although it was spacious enough, all of it lay within the volume of the ship except for the area right along the safety barrier. This ensured that passengers were not exposed to the slipstream generated by the craft's passage through the atmosphere, which would otherwise have made conditions on the deck unpleasant, to say the least.

The air outside was chilly, and her ears did feel a little funny with the change from the pressurized interior of the ship, but it wasn't like they were at the altitude where airliners operated. This was low and slow travel; for those who could afford to take three days to travel from New York to Seattle, and pay fifty times what an airline ticket would have cost for the privilege of the slow transit.

It sure isn't worth the price for the company, She thought, leaning gratefully against the slightly inward-sloping barrier that was about sternum-high on her. But this… this is a definite selling point for the whole thing.

Looking out from her position high on the left side of the mammoth, kilometer-and-a-half long airship, a seemingly endless expanse of sky was open before her. They looked to be approaching the northern range of the Rocky Mountains, and the 'Inclement Weather' the recording had mentioned was clearly visible.

The nighttime sky was illuminated with flashes of lightning that flickered within towering clouds in the middle and far distance. As she watched the panorama shifted slowly, the ship presumably altering course to find the best passage through the oncoming weather front. Claudia wasn't worried; since the revival of airships for passenger travel nearly fifteen years before, they had operated with a flawless safety record. Part of that was due to the incredible advances in both materials and engineering science since the disaster of the Hindenburg and other, similar craft nearly a century before. Vastly improved weather science and satellite-aided navigation completed the equation. Athena was easily as safe as any of her ocean-bound cruise-liner cousins, if strictly limited so far as passenger capacity as well as being somewhat more expensive to operate.

Claudia knew all that quite well, and so it wasn't fear that moved through her as she stood looking out at the looming, anvil-topped clouds, and listened to the muttering thunder that came through the faint, ever-present thrum of the airship's engines from far aft of where she stood. What she felt, through the pain in her head, and the underlying despair that had been a part of her for so very long, was wonder.

My god; it's so very beautiful.

The Athena cruised forward through a vast canyon of cloud, the ground below visible only as scattered lights that marked human habitation. There was no moon visible tonight, so all the illumination there was came from the brilliant stars burning overhead, mirrored by the points of light from down below, and the continual, strobe-like flickering within the clouds; yellow, orange, green and blue. Suddenly, long kilometers away, a vast bar of lightning leapt from one cloud to another; a brilliant flash of blue-white fire that left Claudia's eyes dazzled for long seconds, until at last the louder rumble of its passage reached her ears.

Idle, intermittent gusts of wind swirled gently around her, despite the carefully-designed shape of the deck itself, whose layout prevented the wind created by the airship's speed from making the observation area uninhabitable. She didn't mind it; the sensation of the air slipping softly past her was uniquely soothing. It had always been a secret pleasure of hers, watching storms approach, feeling the wind grow fresher and the air cool as the clouds surged past, low and brooding overhead.

Only now she was among them, not below them, and not locked within a sealed, sterile can of an airplane. This was intimate, wondrous, peaceful, and she took the deepest breath she could, as if she could take some part of that wonder in with the pure air of the high places….

Of course, it was in that moment that her headache chose to return… with a vengeance.

"Ah--Aaaahhhhh!" White light flashed through her brain, and when it faded enough for her to see again she found herself kneeling, with her forehead pressed against the rubberized traction-matting on the deck below her. There was a keening in her ears that was not from any actual sound; it was as if every part of her nervous system was an antenna, pulling in a million channels of static to crush her unprepared mind. Agony crashed in on her again, all the worse for the momentary respite, and this time she couldn't hold back a helpless, wordless scream of pain as she collapsed to lay on one side.

Help me, somebody please help me!

Not that they would; no one could hear her out here, not unless she got to the communications panel set into the hull beside the weather door. That wasn't going to happen, she could barely think, much less manage any movement besides an occasional shudder. The only place she could even form words was within the confines of her own thoughts.

Please, anybody! I swear I'll be good from now on, I'll be a good little corporate slave and do what I'm told, when I'm told, just please don't let me die here!

An almost violent blast of wind whipped her hair across her face as she lay there, and another spike of pain lanced through her head at the same instant.

Argh! All right, I take it back! If I'm going to die of a brain hemorrhage or something then go ahead and do it already, don't just torture me like—

From nowhere, a hand touched her shoulder. If she had been able to move she would have jumped, if she could have spoken she would have shrieked in surprise.

Who? She managed to wonder, in the momentary lull between waves of pain. Did someone come? Maybe… maybe there's a camera watching up here, and someone saw me fall and came to—

Pain. Pain like an explosion that would rend her into a million pieces, like an avalanche that would crush her and bury her in darkness forever, like a—

The hand moved from her shoulder to rest instead upon the top of her head, its companion pressing with firm warmth against her cheek and temple… and in the space of a long breath, the pain faded to a faint shadow of what it had been.

Claudia opened her eyes and tried to raise her head. The hands released her, but she wasn't able to see anything until she pushed herself up on one arm and raked her hair back from her face with the other.

It was a man, crouching just out of reach now, watching her with anxious eyes.

"Are you all right?" He asked, sounding as if he were honestly concerned. "Is there still pain?"

She started to shake her head, then thought better of it.

"Not as much now, no." Tears had streaked her face, but when she used her fingers to wipe away the moisture she was faintly surprised to find no blood there. Going from the intensity of the pain there at the end, it would have made more sense to discover that she had been bleeding from her nose, or ears… or from her eyes themselves, for that matter. Such was not the case, though, and sitting there, sprawled awkwardly on the deck with a stranger staring at her, she found herself feeling stupid and foolish.

"No," She repeated, starting the process of struggling to her feet in a restrictive dress and high heels. "I'm feeling better now, thank you." She had not yet made much progress when he stood, and stepped forward to assist her to her feet. Embarrassed anew, she let him help her, hoping that he wouldn't make things worse by assuming that one touch meant he could try for another. He didn't, though. Once she was back on her feet he stepped back, and she managed a smile of gratitude. "Thank you." She said, and this time it came out more naturally.

He just nodded, still watching her closely.

Claudia knew she needed to get to the airship's medical office as soon as possible, but she didn't want to try it until she was sure her legs would carry her. So she took a minute to lean against the safety barrier, looking out at the sky once more so as to avoid the strange man's oddly intense gaze.

What she saw in the sky made her forget about being self-conscious.

"What.. the… hell?"

The incredibly beautiful, gorgeously self-illuminated clouds were still there, but they had been joined by something else; or rather, many somethings.

Dozens, scores of blazing points of light, each glowing a different hue, flew among the clouds. Orbs of roiling, misty radiance, trailing long streamers of luminescence as they looped and dove through the turbulent sky like dolphins playing amid ocean waves. One of the nearer ones, an eye-searing mass of orange and reds, zipped suddenly closer, and with shocking speed it was hanging in space, just two or three meters beyond the railing where she stood. For an instant, Claudia could have sworn that there as a human face there, staring back at her with curious eyes, then, just as suddenly, it was off and frolicking amid the clouds once more.

The woman clutched at the rail with all her strength, gazing blankly out at the lovely, impossible spectacle.

"I am so going to sue those idiots at Infinite Spiral." She muttered. "They think I did a good job for them? Just wait until they see me on the other side of things." She rubbed at her eyes, hoping that when she looked again the optical delusion would be gone. She tried it.

No such luck.

"'Completely safe process' my ass. I'll show them what a class-action lawsuit is all about."

The man had moved to the railing beside her, not so close that he was pressed against her, but close enough to make her look over at him. He was tall, though not overly so. Slender, almost to the point of being thin, with features that were too strongly defined for him to be handsome. His face was too narrow, cheekbones and chin too pronounced, nose too curved and hawk-like for anyone to hold him up as an ideal of masculine beauty. Not that he was ugly; his eyes were large and oddly pale, as was the longish hair that the wind continually tried to pull across his face. Both hair and eyes looked nearly white in the flickering stormlight, and for a moment she wondered if perhaps he were another early recipient of the Rewrite process like herself.

If he is then I had better warn him about the migraines and hallucinations, She thought, half-serious. And maybe offer him a spot in my lawsuit. After a bit more consideration, however, she dismissed the idea that he had been cosmetically enhanced as she had been. If he were that vain, he would have had his face changed too. No, he just happens to be odd-looking… not that it's made him shy.

That thought came because though he had glanced out at the skyborn lightshow, that spectacular sight had been dismissed almost instantly, in favor of a detailed study of her own face. She could hardly object after her own examination of his features, but nevertheless she looked away, back out at the darting lights, which stubbornly refused to vanish back into whatever treatment-damaged portion of her brain had conjured them.

"Are you certain that you're feeling better?" He asked her, his soft voice barely carrying over the distant rumblings of the storms.

Claudia nodded, still not looking at him.

"Mostly, yes." An errant gust of cool, moist wind pulled a skein of her hair across her eyes like a veil, and she irritably reached up to pull it away. "Except for some lingering hallucinations brought on by the neural damage caused by an under tested process which is now wholly-owned by an amoral conglomeration of profoundly stupid people—" She took a deep breath, then blew it out. "—Other than that; yes, I'm fine."

He cocked his head slightly at that, no doubt wondering just what this crazy woman he'd found lying on the deck was talking about, and she smiled in a attempt to reassure him.

"I'm sorry. You've been very kind, and I appreciate your help. It's just—" She shrugged, again having to raise a hand to restrain the hair that the wind insisted on pulling across her face. "Well, it's not been a good few months for me."

He nodded in understanding.

"Yes, this is hard for you, isn't it? The change, that is."

His words were so matter-of-fact that it took a moment for the strangeness in them to penetrate her abused brain.

"Change?" His eyes seemed to look right through her, and the thought that leapt into her mind was that he knew; he somehow knew about the Rewind-Rewrite, that she wasn't the attractive twenty-year-old that she appeared to be, but was instead someone old enough to be his mother. Working through the sick, sinking sensation in her middle she tried to gauge his age. Twenty…five, maybe? Not much older than that, surely, and she was grateful that the darkness was hiding the flush of shame that would otherwise have been excruciatingly obvious on her pale face. "I-I'm not sure what you mean," She stammered, all the while wondering where her courtroom cool was when she really needed it. "I mean, yes, I had a makeover, with the… hair." She'd been holding the hair in question back with one hand, despite the wind's continual efforts to blind her with it. Now she held a handful out as if for his inspection even as her voice trailed away.

The way he was looking at her, his pale eyes so full of compassion and understanding, the rough-spun cotton of his loose clothing stirred by the same gusts which continued to brush past her….

Claudia shook her head fractionally, still off-balance from the… attack, from its abrupt end….

And this nameless man wasn't helping matters at all.

"I don't understand what you're talking about." She said, finally. "Things have been hard, yes. I've realized that I hate my job. It's been building for a long time now, but now there's no doubt. I hate that place, I hate what I do there, I hate everything about it. I've wasted a huge portion of my life there, for nothing." She grimaced, not sure why she should suddenly decide to vent at a complete stranger, but then again someone with neurological damage could hardly be held responsible for their actions now, could they? "Add to that this awful, horrible case I was involved in, that's going to cost a lot of people their lives, and incidentally make a certain group of feckless thugs even richer than they already are, and maybe you can see why I'm not exactly feeling like I'm on top of the world."

There; if that glimpse of the crabby, embittered woman hidden inside the fresh-faced girl image didn't scare him away, she wasn't sure what would.

He wasn't running away, though; he was just leaning there, against the railing like she was, looking at her.

"If things are as bad as you say, then why not go elsewhere?" He asked, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You are unhappy with things as they are; so change them."

If there had been the least iota of condescension in his voice or expression when he said that she would have done her best to throw him over the railing.

Or possibly just turned and stalked away with what dignity she had left. As it was, the concern and sincere interest there had her answering honestly before she was fully aware of what she was doing.

"It isn't that easy," She said. Looking into his unsettling eyes wasn't the most comfortable thing to do, but staring out at the dancing, playing orbs of light was even worse, so she did her best to bear it. "Okay, it might seem that easy, but…." There was really no way around saying it if she was going to keep talking at all. "I'm a coward."

There. It was said; done. Staring at the deck between them (not that there was a great deal of deck between them) she frowned. The very dim light made it difficult to be certain, but it looked very much like his feet were bare.

Bare feet? Is that even allowed on board? I thought you had to wear sandals at the very—

"A coward in what sense?" He asked, drawing her gaze upwards to meet his own. "My understanding is that a coward is someone who is weak, yet my…." He paused, seeming to search for the proper word. "My… impression, of you, is that you are very strong indeed."

From her would-be suitor down in the lounge that would have been empty flattery; from this man….

"Trust me; I'm not." Funny, she must be determined to give him a horrible impression of her, because here she was, telling him things she had trouble admitting even to herself. "For example; the hair, the eyes?" He followed her finger as she indicated the freakish coloration of each; hers, not his. "Why do you think I got this done?"

He shrugged, looking unconcerned.

"Because they are beautiful; the color of the upper sky in deep autumn."

That brought her up short for a moment.

"You really think so?"

"Yes." Again, what could have seemed like nothing more than a way to get her naked and horizontal came off like nothing of the sort. "They reflect your inner self, now; the true color of your soul."

She frowned slightly.

Well, that was a bit… odd. But in a nice way, all the same.

"Thank you." She was saying that to him a lot, it seemed. "But the reason I did it was so that my boss would fire me. He would call me into his office and demand that I change it back; I would refuse, we would get into this huge argument, and he would toss me."

It was his turn to frown now.

"This is not what happened?"

She shook her head.

"No, it wasn't. He called me in all right, but he didn't demand that I go back to brown on brown. He—" She thought about what had taken place in that office, and just the memory of it was enough to make her deflate. "He didn't argue with me, he didn't give me the chance to argue at all. He just assumed that I would change it. And by the time I knew what was happening, here I was, on a scenic cruse across the states, then up the west coast for a tour by air of the Alaskan wilderness, waiting for it to be safe to go back and have it all reversed." She thought it best not to mention the age thing; that part was definitely not going to be put back the way it had been. Though she hadn't exactly done such a great job of being young the first time around.

Claudia sighed, having successfully brought her own mood even lower, which was something she would not have thought possible.

"So there you go. If I can't even bear to take responsibility for quitting a job I hate, just because the thought of being out there in the big, scary world with no idea of what else I could do is so terrifying…. Well, that's not the portrait of a strong person, is it?"

Silence then, for what seemed like a long time though it really wasn't.

"You have never been happy, have you?" He asked, his eyes never leaving hers. "In your whole life, you have never found the freedom your soul yearns for, a place that was truly yours, a life that was utterly your own to live." She had no coherent answer for that, not that he needed one. Leaning closer, he spoke very softly, his words melding with the distant voice of the storm.

"You need not live that way, not if you do not wish it to be so. The only power that place holds over you, that anyone holds over who you are and what manner of person you chose to be, is the power you give them."

She looked away, in the only safe direction she could; the darkened shadows to her right where the weather door, outlined in tiny guide-lights, offered access to the clean, luxurious, empty pleasures which the ship offered.

"It's too late." She answered him, the words bitter. "I'm… not as young as I look." She glanced at him, but there was no condemnation in his eyes, no judgment at all. "I've waited too long for something to happen, for someone or something to just come along and hand my happiness to me. I—" Her throat had tightened, and she had to clear it before she could continue. "I always thought that if I were just patient long enough, a happy ending would somehow magically appear, and everything would be okay."

Stupid. It was so stupid… but it was the truth, and only now did she fully understand how ridiculous she had acted all those long years… by failing to act at all.

"It's too late to start over somewhere else." She finished, looking at her hand where it gripped the railing. "I need to hold on to what I have, get comfortable with that even if it's not everything I would wish for; it's all I'm ever going to get."

Only sensible, yes; act your age, old girl. Those books and movies with their rugged heroes and beautiful ladies were all about young people; best put the idea of something like that happening to you right out of your head. Anything else will only depress you, and you know how miserable that is, don't you?

Her eyes weren't working so well, all of a sudden, and there was moisture spilling down her cheeks. She started to turn away in embarrassment, but a pair of strong, gentle hands caught her shoulders.

"Stop this, please." He bade her, and she blinked away the tears as best she could, wishing she could vanish on the spot and spare herself any further humiliation. "You lament your lack of choices, your entrapment in a world where you have never truly belonged, and all the while you stare unseeing at an open door."

This man had a way with enigmatic statements, she had to give him that.

"What?" She managed, no doubt stunning him yet again with her rapier wit. As answer he raised his arm and pointed out into the flickering light of the open sky.

"Look, there, and tell me what you see."

She didn't want to look, but his eyes held hers until finally she spared it a quick glance.

Canyons of clouds. Giant Japanese lanterns lit by flickering candles made from lightning.

Oh, and a symptom of her uncertain mental state; the glowing orbs of light, two of whom were now racing playfully round and round the airship itself in a giddy game of follow the leader.

Looking back into his waiting gaze, she shrugged with elaborate calm.

"Clouds."

His brows drew fractionally closer together, and he shook his head.

"No, when others look they see clouds. You see more. You see something new, something which frightens you."

She felt her lips pressing into a thin line, and she pulled back until he let his hands drop away.

"You can't know that." She whispered shakily. "It's not possible for you to know that." Bad enough that she was damaged, now, as well as pathetically stupid, but if it were so obvious that a stranger could pick up on it then there was no way she would be able to fool her fellow employees, much less her superiors.

He watched her across the space she'd opened between them.

"I can know; it is possible."

She didn't want to know; she only wanted to be allowed to cling to what bits and pieces of a real life she had. This, whatever this was, threatened to take even those meager scraps away from her.

"How?" She barely heard it herself; doubtful that he had, over the airship's engines, and the distant rumbles of thunder, and the wind….

"Because," He answered. "You can see me."

She stared at him blankly, but that empty, falling feeling had returned to her middle.

When she said nothing, he stepped forward a pace and lifted a hand. She flinched away, but he did not try to touch her, he merely passed his hand in front of her face, as if testing the consistency of the air there.

"You have suffered a trauma of some kind recently; your body and its energies are still recovering, striving to regain their proper alignments." He said it so seriously that it almost didn't sound like new-age nonsense. That probably explained him going barefoot. "Your talent is extremely strong; more so than in anyone I have ever seen, but you have been blocked all your life, unable to properly use it." He looked thoughtful, moving his hand alongside first one side of her head, and then the other. "Perhaps this thing you did, this changing of your appearance, was the shock needed for your ability to manifest itself at last; but it is also responsible for the pain you have been feeling when the power is used, these headaches."

This had gone far enough. It was looking like she wasn't the only crazy person out here tonight, maybe not even the one most in need of professional help.

"All right then." She began, trying to keep her words gentle and soothing. "I don't know why you singled me out for this little game of yours, but I'm going inside now, and I don't want you to—"

"I came because you called me." He said. She stopped, her mouth open, and he gestured outwards once again. "I rode the storm, like these others, until I felt your need. Your cries were so very loud, I could not ignore you, so I answered. When I reached you I tried to help, but in my natural form there was little I could do; beings of energy and of substance do not often have reason to interact."

Claudia managed to close her mouth, with an effort.

Then, despite her better judgment, she opened it again.

"You're saying that you—" She pointed at him. "Are one of those?" Pointing out at the glowing orbs, which she still refused to believe actually existed.

He nodded.

"Yes. Well, similar to them, but of a higher order." Now it was he who looked somewhat uncomfortable, as if explaining all of this were somewhat embarrassing for him. "You see, in a very real way, I am all of that." His broad gesture took in all of the storm, the enormous, towering front through which the Athena was passing. "It was only because of you that I was able to take on this form. On some level you felt my presence, you reached out to me as I tried to help you, and your power helped me manifest as something physical." He shrugged, as if that were something that even a child could understand. "Once that had been done, easing your pain was not so difficult. I do not believe it will trouble you again; your energies seem to have managed the most difficult part of the adjustment, now."

Crazy. It was ludicrous, and she felt a tugging at the corners of her mouth in anticipation of the punch line.

"You're saying… that you're a ghost?"

"I see dead people." She thought with a mental giggle, recalling a movie she'd seen back in her teens.

He shook his head with long-suffering patience.

"No, I am not a ghost. I am a storm." He reached out again, and this time he did touch her, a gentle caress along one cheek. "And you, you are a Summoner, a Speaker-to-Spirits. Not the spirits of the dead, but the spirits of the living world around you." He took back his hand, holding it up before his own face for a moment, as if wondering at it, and then looked back to her. "An astonishingly powerful Summoner, as I think I have already said."

Claudia wasn't sure what was worse, that this poor man should be so hopelessly deluded… or that she found herself beginning to believe him. She turned her head, quite deliberately, and looked out into the night sky. Yes, there were things there, dancing through the storm, and yes, when she gazed upon them she felt, instinctively, that they were not some kind of bizarre natural phenomena such as ball lightning, but living beings, as right and natural as a dog, or tree, or eagle.

The storm itself was alive; an immense mass of living energy, tenuous as a spider's web, powerful as an atom bomb. It was hollow, though. Its core, its essence was strangely absent. She could almost feel the hollow, aching void where the tempest's… she supposed in a human she would call it a soul, but in a being like this she didn't know.

All she knew was that the missing part of that vast, near god-like being… was standing there beside her; waiting.

"All of this—" She glanced at him, then back out at the spectacle. "It's all real?"

He rested his folded arms atop the barrier, leaning into it as he joined her in watching the display.

"Yes. More real than most ever see."

Incredible. She thought. And, in a brief moment of clarity added. If this is all just me being crazy, then I guess somebody had better sign me up for a padded room. But… I don't think I'm crazy. A hallucination wouldn't last this long, or be this consistent, would it?

She probably didn't want to know the answer to that, so she asked another question instead.

"Is it like this in other places too? On the ground, I mean?"

He nodded.

"There are entities everywhere; every place, great or small, has its own spirit. Some have many, overlapping each other, unified or conflicting, welcoming or hostile, each according to its nature." He cocked his head, giving her a sidelong look through his blowing, cloud-colored hair. "Perhaps you have already seen them, and not even realized it to be so. Often they are so much a part of a place that one can see them, even speak to them, and never know they are more than what they seem."

She'd already begun shaking her head no when the image of the beautiful girl in the dance club downstairs suddenly struck her.

That girl, the one nobody paid any attention to; the projection. Except, what if she wasn't a projection at all? What if the reason nobody had appeared to notice her was because no one except herself had been able to see her?

"I think I saw one, earlier." She admitted, slowly, still not sure it was true. "She was dressed in the Athena's colors, like the crew, but she was very beautiful, and nobody could see her…."

And she wanted me to come and dance, to have a good time. The Athena is a pleasure ship, she wanted me to enjoy myself… the Athena.

He seemed unsurprised.

"An artifact such as this will usually have a very powerful, clearly defined spirit, for all that it is a creation of man. However, not all such will be so welcoming." He studied her. "Is that the only other you have seen? There would have been headaches, as your power revealed them to you. In a time of great fear, or stress."

Claudia shrugged, unsure of any other time she had noticed anything odd, like the woman.

The most stress I've had lately is in the courtroom; no spirits there. And, I suppose, that morning at Barret, McCandless and Stone; I was plenty scared then, hoping and not-hoping all at once. Then that guy in front of the elevators, staring a hole right through me—

"The lawyer!" She exclaimed, excitement overcoming the last bits of her that were reluctant to accept all of this. "That lawyer archetype, the patriarch I didn't recognize!"

No wonder he looked so pissed; he was the spirit of… well, I guess he's the spirit of B, McC, and S himself. He knew my heart wasn't in it, that I hated being there, and it offended him. And the whole blue hair thing too, if he's a stickler for the appearance code.

The man beside her smiled faintly, and nodded.

"There, you see? Another path has opened itself to you. All you need do now is choose to follow it."

"Path?" She asked, unsure of what he meant. "You mean, like a job? A career?" She wrinkled her nose. "What kind of career is seeing spirits that nobody else can see going to give me?"

He spread his hands.

"I cannot say. It is your path, not mine."

With that he turned, and began walking towards the far end of the otherwise empty observation deck. Claudia, caught be surprise, took a few steps after him.

"Wait!" He paused, half turning to look back at her. "What, you're going?" The note of hurt in her voice surprised her, a little. The flicker of pain, and sadness that crossed his face surprised her even more.

"I must. Look."

She followed his gaze outwards, and saw that the banks of flickering clouds were nearly all behind them now. Athena drove powerfully ahead, forging through the trailing edge of the stormfront and towards the mountains rising to the west.

Claudia, unsure of what to say or do, stared at him helplessly.

"I… I was hoping you would stay with me, for awhile. Maybe help me to understand all of this."

His expression softened, and he took one step back towards her.

"Oh, how I wish I might do just that." He said, a powerful longing in his voice. "If I could, I would reach out my arms to this ship of yours and hold you close—" Claudia's eyes widened as she saw, beyond his shoulder, the sudden movement of a massive thunderhead, the lightning-lit vapor boiling towards the Athena as if it were indeed a vast arm, reaching out for her. His face fell, and the cloud's moment faltered, and became merely that of a wind-blown mass of water droplets. "—But I cannot; not without bringing you harm." He turned again, and moved to the far end of the deck, as distant from her as he could manage. "Goodbye, beautiful lady." He said, his words coming clearly to her ears though he did not turn again to face her. "I wish you well on whatever path you travel. I will remember you."

Then he was gone, between one moment and the next, and a wind of gale-strength blew her back a step, and whipped her hair about her face.

"Thank you. I'll remember…." She whispered back, but there was no one to hear.

The storm had passed, leaving only the ship, and the stars above her.


* * * * *


Chapter Three

The dusty heat of an Iowa cornfield drew perspiration from her brow, and Claudia McTiernan squinted as she stared up at the maddeningly cloud-free sky. Two hundred meters away, the small group of farmers who had hired her waited by their cars, as they had for most of the morning. Even from here she could tell they were getting restless, but she couldn't let that distract her.

They were paying her good money, on nothing more than the recommendation of some ranchers in Montana, who had had some nice things to say about her after she had driven off the dark, hungry spirit that had been lurking in a nearby river, and getting its kicks by drowning any cattle that had ventured there to drink. These, though, were proving harder to impress… especially since she had been out here nearly five hours and their drought-stricken fields weren't getting any wetter.

It's the hair, I know it. She thought wearily, tugging irritably at the waist-length tail into which she'd bound it. Your average corn-farmer just doesn't appreciate the subtle style of blue hair… even if mine's getting to be more silver than blue, now.

Two years and more, now, since she'd quit her job at the firm, and she was well overdue for her maintenance appointment at Infinite Spiral. Not that she was going to go; there was no way in hell she was going to help them fill their corporate coffers. Let them get by without her patronage; she would just have to learn how to deal with looking old again. Yes, there were a few lines showing on her face now. She was looking more and more like her forty-four years these days, and it would only get worse, but at least she wasn't getting fat again; that was the one benefit of being out from behind that desk and out walking along rivers, and through cornfields.

The pay wasn't bad, either; not the equal of her old gig yet, true, but things were looking up. She was gaining a reputation as one of those few, those very, very few who's outlandish claims of being able to speak to the land, and have the land listen were more than just empty words. She got results… usually.

More often so now than when she'd first started; as with anything else, experience counted in the Conjuring game. Speaking of which… time to try again.

Planting her sneaker-clad feet in the dry, crumbling soil of the field, she closed her eyes.

Clouds, thick and billowing, heavy with moisture; come.

Zephyrs, cavorting through the sky, trailing strands of brilliant white, gathering slowly into towering castles of vapor; come.

Storm spirits, born from water raised from the streams and lakes and seas, warmed by the sun upon the land, borne upon the arms of the sky; come.

The power rolled out from her in a wave, spreading outwards like ripples from a stone dropped into deep water, slow and powerful, inexorable, moving into the distance, over the horizon in every direction… to vanish without a trace.

As had the last seven attempts.

Claudia scowled at the sky, pulling her broad-brimmed hat down a bit lower, as her still-pale skin tended to burn quite easily.

Well, crap. Maybe it just doesn't want to rain around here. Or maybe somebody local did something to piss off the spirits of the upper air; I'm starting to think that stuff like that can happen.

Whatever the problem was, it was certainly starting to look like the drought wasn't going to end today. She folded her arms across her chest and lowered her head, trying to think of what she was going to tell the farmers over there by their cars.

Five minutes or so passed, with nothing much occurring to her except the fact that she was very glad she didn't live in this part of the country.

Damn, but it is hot! Was the only coherent thing to cross her mind. Well, that and the usual sense of loneliness and regret, but that got pushed away with the ease of long practice.

Okay, then; time to go and tell them. She raised her head and turned to head towards the highway. Maybe… something about an Indian curse on the fork-tongued white man who took their land? Hm. Not sure if they're quite that stupid, but I guess it's worth a—

Clouds. There, on the western horizon, a solid line of clouds had appeared, scudding along low and fast. And behind the vanguard, there were the high, wide pillars that marked thunderheads. Even now she could see the faint flicker of lightning within them; fair warning that this would be no mere brief sprinkle of precipitation.

Recovering herself, Claudia slowly raised one arm in a grand gesture, pointing towards the oncoming storm. First one, then all the rest of the distant farmers turned to look, and their whoops of excitement reached her where she stood. She considered going to join them, and thereby sparing herself a thorough drenching, but a flash of lightning and the resultant growl of thunder made her change her mind.

Whoops; from the look of that I think I might have overdone it. The drought-ravaged fields would have trouble enough holding water from a sudden rain; if all of that water were to be dumped at once, it would end up causing almost as much harm as good. She would have to stay, and try to restrain the spirits she'd summoned.

After all, this was what they were paying her for.

Within minutes, the first clouds were scudding past, low overhead, and the darker, angrier ones were close behind. The initial gusts of wind were beginning to whip the dust up from the ground, forcing her to shield her eyes with one hand.

Storm. Was her thought as she tried to peer between her fingers at the onrushing giant. Big, BIG storm.

There was no question of that, but what she needed to know now was what manner of temper the thing had. If it were willing to talk to her then everything should be fine. If, however, it was bent on being mean, well, she might be doing her Dorothy imitation real soon now.

Carefully, warily, she reached out, just the tiniest thread of energy probing upwards, a timid little 'Hello? Can we be friends?' riding along with it.

Instantly, a bolt of power a thousand times greater ran back along her probe, striking downwards like a bolt of lightning. The force of it lifted her off the ground and hurled her backwards, and she sucked in a breath to scream with everything that was in her… but she didn't. Frowning, she looked down at the ground she hadn't hit after being thrown back. It was still there, maybe a meter below her, but she was being held off it by a set of arms that were cradling her gently. She gave a small gasp, and let her power flow outwards, joining it to that she now sensed. The arms solidified, then the shoulders, the chest, the head….

It was him; looking joyful and chagrined all at once, his narrow, strong-featured face the same as the last time she'd seen it, in the uncertain light of a distant storm. The storm was much nearer this time around, growling directly overhead as his physical form finished its manifestation, complete with rough-spun shirt and trousers, but again no shoes. He seemed reluctant to set her back on her feet, but when she stirred in his arms he set her back on her feet.

"Forgive me," Was the first thing he said, pushing his hair back from his eyes. "My happiness at finding you again made me careless, and I—"

She slapped him across the side of his jaw, as hard as she possibly could. He took a step back, obviously unhurt but stunned nevertheless.

"Forgive you for that?! She shouted, leaning back to give him another one. This time he ducked, and she nearly spun herself to the ground before regaining her balance. He retreated, and she stalked after him. "I've been trying to call you to me for two years, I looked for you in every storm I saw for so long after that night…." She stopped, trying to compose herself as best she could. The wind brought a spate of cold rain, which did not serve to improve her temper. Folding her arms across her chest and keeping her voice as level as possible, she asked him the question.

"Where were you?"

He gaped at her for a long minute, at a loss. Finally, he waved one hand through a wide arc.

"There. Here, there, everywhere." He edged closer, apparently unsure if she meant to attack him again, and when she made no move to strike he relaxed a tiny fraction. "The world is wide, and one person is nigh-impossible to find unless you know where to look. And I did look, believe me!" His expression was earnest, and she was forced to concede that much.

"Well, yes, I can see that." She shrugged uncomfortably, looking away at the dry, dusty earth. "And really, it wasn't until maybe a year ago that I really learned how to call out, and at first it wasn't very loud."

He nodded.

"I heard, though; every one. In the beginning so faintly that I thought I must be imagining it, but over time it grew stronger and clearer; your voice, recognizably your voice. So I sought you, but you never stay in one place for long, and I cannot move as you move, against the river of the sky which flows from west to east. It was only now, today, that I heard you, that I felt you so near and rushed to see… and found you, here."

That brought a tremulous smile to her face.

"You… you wanted to see me again?"

He stepped forward, to within arm's reach.

"Very much so."

Suddenly realizing what he was seeing, she looked down, letting her wide-brimmed hat hide her face.

"It's been a while," She said, her voice low. "I'm not as pretty as I was the last time; by a lot more than two year's worth."

Her gaze was focused on that dry bit of earth by her feet, but she felt his hands take hold of her hat, and carefully pull it away. Her hair, still purple-violet-blue but now generously streaked with silver, blew across her face. She made no move to push it back, and so a moment later he gently took hold of the soft, tangled mass and tugged it back behind her shoulders. Raising her eyes to his, she found them as empty of judgment as they had been when she confided her weakness to him through a haze of tears. She had none to shed this time around; things were as they were, as she'd chosen, and at least this time the decisions had all been hers.

He smiled.

"You have changed, but not so very much." With that he leaned forward, and kissed her lightly upon the lips. "And you are still very beautiful."

She grinned, the weight of dread that had been crouching within her chest abruptly easing.

"And you can still say things like that and make me believe every word is true."

He shrugged, though he did not move away.

"It is true, every word."

"Well, I hope you can keep that attitude going, 'cause I'm not going to get any prettier."

He frowned, pulling some of her hair forward again, and holding it up to better inspect the silver invasion that was overcoming the neon blue.

"You will miss this?" He turned to look at her face, and reached up to caress her still-smooth cheek with the back of his hand. "And this?"

She chewed her lip a moment before answering, but managed to keep her tone light.

"Nah, not so much. It mostly just gave people the wrong idea about me, made them think I was something I wasn't."

He shook his head in disagreement.

"It showed exactly what you are; beautiful, touched by the powers of the sky… and fresh with new beginnings, and new possibilities."

Claudia frowned up at him.

"Tough luck, pal. I'm telling you that I don't care enough about how I look to go crawling back to those bastards and beg them on bent knee to allow me the privilege of paying them a fortune to—"

His fingers on her lips stopped her words.

"I understand. I am happy to see you have found the strength to make your choices, and I am more than willing to abide by whatever you decide."

She subsided, mollified by that. After a moment, though, he went on.

"However, I was going to say that, in the olden days, it was said that those Summoners who were able to call truly powerful spirits, and to help them manifest in physical form, often lived long, nearly endless lives, because of the melding of their powers with one another."

From where his hand lay at the base of her throat, tangled in her hair, a warmth began to spread. Where it passed over her hair, the silver was washed away, leaving only the neon-blue of an autumn sky. Where it passed over her body, it erased the aches and pains that came with forty-four years of living in a human body.

And when he leaned forward and kissed her, long and deeply, that warmth spread through her chest, where it eased the lonely ache that had dwelt there for so very long. She answered his kiss with enthusiasm, for as long as she was able before the need for breath made her break away.

"Wow!" She said, staring up at him in amazement before it occurred to her to look down. Her hands were pale and smooth as a teenager's, and when she grabbed at a handful of her hair there was not a single strand of silver to be found. With a little cry of delight she grabbed at his face to kiss him again, but he held her back.

"Understand, now, that if this displeases you, if it interferes with your determination to grow old naturally and not confuse others with what you are not—"

She clamped her hand across his mouth, her eyes wide.

"What, are you insane?!" She waved a wild hand towards the highway, where the watching farmers seemed to be quite uncertain of where the strange man in the field had come from, or what was going on between him and their hired cloud-caller. She grinned again, looking back up at him. "Let them think what they want; this is my life! Why not have some fun with it!" His smile competed with her own, but then she grew suddenly serious.

"Okay, then, I suppose we don't have all day before you 'move on', as storms are known to do?"

He sighed, then nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, though I will tarry as long as I may. An hour, perhaps two."

She felt herself wilt a little, but there it was.

"All right, then. I'm going to need a couple of things before you go."

He looked puzzled, and perhaps a bit disappointed, but he nodded all the same.

"Very well. Name them."

"First of all, these guys need some rain; gentle, thorough rain. That's why I was calling clouds in the first place."

A glance upwards was all it took; moments later a steady rain began to fall.

"Done." He said, his eyes on hers.

She nodded, and glanced down in embarrassment, but then managed to lift her gaze to his once more.

"And now, maybe… something for me?" The rain was quickly soaking her through, but it didn't seem so cold, anymore. It was warm, as he was warm, and she wanted so much for her loneliness to be washed away before he left again.

He nodded, his eyes dark, and he ran his hands down along her sides, until they came to rest upon her hips.

"I would be honored, my lady." A smile quirked his lips upwards for just a moment. "Gentle, and thorough, you may be sure."

He kissed her again, and again that otherworldly warmth filled her to overflowing. When his lips moved to her throat, and then lower, she took a moment to deliver a warning.

"If we do this now, it had better not be two years before I see you again."

She felt his smile against her rain-slicked flesh.

"Fear not; an' I do hear your voice, I will answer."

She nodded, closing her eyes in response to what he was doing.

"Then believe me when I say you will be getting a lot of calls from me. Loud ones."

He was removing her clothes now, and she was a little unsure about how pleasant making love in a muddy cornfield could be, but she need not have worried; he had an answer for that.


* * * * *

Across the way, the gathered farmers were still giddy at the prospect of a season that had now been salvaged from certain ruin, though they were still unsure of just where that tall, skinny fellow had come from. From what they could make out, him and the little cloud-caller were a couple, and for a minute there it looked like they were all going to be treated to a show.

That is, until thick streamers of mist reached down from the clouds overhead, pulling across the field just like a giant curtain, hiding from view whatever it was that was going on over there. That was odd enough, all right, but later on, every one of those gathered there swore that they'd heard the sound of that little lady's voice, first coming from out in the field, but then sounding for all the world like she was goin' up into the air, right up into the clouds themselves, giggling and squealing all the while.

And the thunder rolled out, in a peal of joyous laughter.