Chapter 9

Elara woke with an overwhelming sense of nausea. Her head spun as she sat up in bed, braced her hands on her knees and then stood quickly to race for the restroom across the hallway. The room spun gently, threatening to send her reeling as she struggled to maintain her balance. Her stomach clenched in a knot as a wave of queasiness washed over her. She pressed a hand to her forehead, her eyes screwed shut as she tried to stifle the sudden urge to retch. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her chest constricting with each intake.

Slowly, she forced herself to breathe deeply and waited for the feeling to pass. Amy had warned her of the possible side effects, but she was surprised by the intensity of the feelings. Maybe the magic had something to do with it. She waited for several minutes, letting the perspiration on her skin dry and cool her. She used the sink to splash water on her face and then dried it with a towel. Elara reached for moonbeams to dress, but felt the room spin again. Instead, she settled for wrapping the large fluffy white towel around herself before heading out to the main room where she could already hear Finn moving around.

She was startled to see Finn pulling himself up on a bar sticking out from some device on one wall. She had noticed the strange decoration of horizontal wooden rods previously but now saw their function. A pair of arms stuck out from the top-most rung, and he was gripping them to pull himself up. His broad shoulders bladed beneath a thin layer of sweat, glistening in the dim light that filtered through the room’s tall windows.

Finn’s form was a picture of strength and determination as he effortlessly executed each repetition, his lean muscles rippling with power and precision. The play of light and shadow across his back cast an almost mythical quality upon him, imbuing him with an air of quiet intensity that left Elara captivated.

She admired the elegant arc of Finn’s body as he swung through each pull-up, the fluid grace of his movements reflecting both discipline and mastery over his physique. The sinewy muscles of his arms bulged with each contraction, and the steady rhythm of his breath was a testament to his unwavering focus and commitment to his fitness regimen.

Elara couldn’t help but be inspired by Finn’s dedication to his health and well-being – a reminder that the pursuit of strength and vitality was both an internal and external journey. She slipped back down the hallway and into his bedroom, rummaging for a pair of shorts and shirt she could wear while performing her own morning exercises.

She was well into the final movement for the day when she sensed Finn look at her from the doorway. Elara maintained her concentration, wanting to show the same dedication she had witnessed in him. As she ended her routine, settling on her knees with her head touching palms resting on the floor, she heard him move away and enter the bathing room. She listened to the water running and settled her mind, casting her thoughts back to happier, less troubled times.

Amy finished updating her new computer with the latest patches and triggered the reboot for what she hoped was the last time. As it powered down, she pulled the network cable free. She had followed Finn’s instruction and removed the preinstalled wireless network card as well before starting her update journey.

“I hate messing around with computers,” she muttered. It felt like she had spent most of a day since meeting with Finn just getting to this point.

She glanced at the make and model, confirming it was one Finn had suggested. It felt like she had wasted days buying, wiping, and then setting up the OpenBSD operating system, then installing the open-source office suite that would be compatible with her editor’s word processor. While installs and updates were running, she had laid out the evidence Finn had provided.

She needed to come up with a game plan. The money was one approach, and she thought it would be the easiest, but also knew it was the most boring part of the story. She decided she would work on that after she understood what was actually going on. She needed to trace it to uncover the real story, but politicians being bought off was not news. She had to make readers care.

The hints that the politicians had used the money for other nefarious purposes was enticing, from a story perspective. It was also the aspect Finn had the least data on. She looked through a couple of the printouts, trying to discern what her starting point should be.

The last part was the tangle of who was sending funds to whom. Some of it appeared to start with DoD contractors. Some of it came through national political parties and PACs. Some appeared to be coming from the DoD itself. Amy knew this was something she would have to sift through and distill into a single narrative. Money was flowing, but it was where it was flowing from that might be interesting. Someone was funding these public servants for a reason, and it wasn’t just to allow them to spend their money on sex, drugs, and protection.

A soft chime of her new computer sounded. She logged in and started typing some notes as she formulated her plan.

Finn looked up from his laptop as Elara entered the open kitchen area of his apartment. She was wearing his shorts and t-shirt still, with her ever-present silver anklets. Elara was incredibly attractive, he thought once again, then marshaled his emotions. She had been raped less than two days ago. He refused to be the sort of man who would lust after a damsel in distress.

“Good morning,” he managed to say with a little shake of his head.

“And to you, Finn.” Her voice was melodic, soothing, soft, and intimate. “What are you working on?” she asked as she moved closer.

“Gotta pay some bills,” he said with a nonchalant wave at the screen before him.

“Pay bills?” she asked as she easily pulled a chair around to his side of the table and sat, almost touching him.

He caught a hint of her scent, blushed, and looked at the screen. “When I left government work, I had to do something to make money. I wanted to be able to pick and choose my work, so I became a consultant.”

“Consultant?” she asked, as if trying out the word for the first time.

“Yes. Companies and people pay me to do very specialized work for them. It’s mostly R&D or proof-of-concept work. I’m just finishing up some coding for a customer.”

“Coding?” She obviously had no idea what he was talking about.

“Consider it to be a set of instructions that I can make machines perform. The thing that follows the instructions is the microprocessor. It can cause other machines to send data or actuate mechanical elements to perform work. I tell the microprocessor how to read and interpret the instructions.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand. If the microprocessor follows instructions, and you tell it how to read and act on the instructions, why aren’t your instructions the same as the ones you want it to follow?”

Finn smiled. It was a good question. “My instructions tell the processor which instruction to execute next.” He pointed at the cup of coffee and the small pot of coffee on the table. “Suppose the processor is reading instructions from the cup.” He picked up the cup and took a drink, finishing it. “Now those instructions are gone. Does the processor just stop?”

Elara nodded. “It must. There are no more instructions in the cup.”

Finn nodded. “But I can tell it to refill the cup from the pot when the cup is empty,” he said as he put actions to his words. “Then the processor can take some more regular instructions.”

Elara frowned. “It seems logical, but confusing. What happens when the pot is empty? You tell it how to make more of your coffee drink?”

“Maybe. Or potentially I tell it to stop for a time and then make coffee and start over. I can also tell it when it should switch from coffee to water. The instructions for the microprocessor tell it how to interact within its system, not telling it what to do.”

Elara looked thoughtful. “You are the mistress of the acolytes.”

Finn felt it was his turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

Elara said, “The mistress of acolytes assigns instructors to acolytes and sets the schedule for the day or week. Acolytes learn tasks from the teachers but then perform those tasks according to the schedule the mistress sets. Acolytes are taught very early to find a teacher when their task is done and get their next assignment. The mistress sets all the assignments that need to be complete in the temple.”

Finn thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t a perfect analogy, but it was close. He nodded.

“That is as good an interpretation as any,” he said. “Did you learn in such a system?”

Elara nodded, and a shadow passed over her face. “Yes, but now it’s lost to me.”

“Why?” Finn asked. “We’ll get your quest fulfilled and send you home, I promise.”

She shook her head. “I’ve failed my trial to become a priestess,” she said softly. “I was set a task to travel across the realm of the Enchanted Forest for a moon cycle. I was to help others on my quest. I was to be in a sacred grove on the next new moon. Additionally, I was to never spend two nights in the same place.”

She paused and looked around the apartment. “I spent two days in that cage, and now two nights here. I’ll never be a priestess.”

The sadness in her voice tugged at Finn’s heart. Impulsively, he reached around her shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug.

“We’ll figure it out and get you back where you belong, I promise.”

Elara sat on the couch, looking at the books lining the shelf across the room. It was frustrating to know they were filled with knowledge of this world, but that she was cut off from learning from them. She forced herself to slow her breathing, focus, and expand her awareness.

Finn had moved into his office, leaving her alone in the open area of his loft while gaining some privacy to focus on his tasks. She could sense him working, concentrating on the problem he was trying to solve, but occasionally thinking warm thoughts of her.

Those little flashes of caring and concern gave her hope. Her lunar empathy, one of the gifts her goddess provided her followers, was sensitive enough to interpret his feelings. His anger at what the magician had done to her was genuine. His concern for her well-being was as real as any she had felt from her sister acolytes or the priestesses at home.

What she had trouble deciphering was his determination while exercising, or the sense of melancholy when he first took a bite of food. He had isolated himself from his past but not dealt with his feelings on those matters, she suspected.

When he thought about the people he was pursuing, his resolve was firm, but there was a sense of regret when they discussed her getting closer to one of the powerful, he was hunting. It was as if he wanted to protect her from them, along with his people.

Elara shook her head, then stood and moved to the rug on the floor. She knelt with deliberate ease, firming her posture and breathing deeply.