Chapter 6

Work was work. I took readings, cleaned strainers, changed the circular chart paper in our chart recorders, recorded data for various reposts in a computer database that our resident wizard programmed especially for that.

The Twenty-first Century offered many marvelous options for the automated control of boilers; the designers of this four-year-old facility had opted for a mechanical linkage system not much more advanced than that of the forty-year-old facility I had transferred from. That meant that vibration changed the "precise" settings of the mechanical levers and bars, no matter how tight the setscrews were tightened. Boiler two was exhibiting systems of maladjustment.

The shape and whorl of the flame pattern at low firing rates seemed to indicate that there was either too much air or not enough natural gas. That and the earthquake rumble when the boiler deigned to light off at all. Troubleshooting Boiler Two would occupy most of my night.

In the end, it turned out to be an air flow guide fin that had changed its angle. My boss is a control systems wizard - he'd have been disgusted at the time I wasted tracking down the real cause of the problem, were it not that the same thing had happened to him.

I'd lost track of time, or Elaine was jumping the gun. I was wiping down the tools I'd used and replacing them on the tool room shadow boards when the first arousing tingle started in my loins. I tried to think calming thoughts as I finished storing the tools. Some weren't cleaned with my usual thoroughness before I dashed to the men's room and washed my hands.

Elaine had been more considerate than the previous week, keeping the arousal at a constant low pitch until she felt my participation. From that point on, all restraint melted away. I used the liquid soap dispenser and both hands to ease things along. I now had a more concrete mental image to enjoy as I tried to keep my strokes slow. She had her own images, and I think they melded in our minds at the point of surrender to bliss.

Afterwards, I washed soap from all eleven digits, and made myself presentable for the arrival of my relief. I was expecting the call when the phone rang, but answered professionally anyway.

Power Plant, Bee, may I help you?"

Good morning," she smiled through the phone. I could picture it easily.

"A very good morning," I agreed, to more giggling.

"What time will you be getting home?"

Teenagers never listen. "A little after nine."

"Fine," she said. I needed no fire lizards to detect disappointment. Perhaps she had listened, but hoped I might make an excuse to leave early. Maybe I would. "My mother said she'd pick me up at eight." Ah. Even with a good excuse, I couldn't leave before then.

It was just as well. I needed to stop at a suitably anonymous store for protection before things in person went any further. I now knew that things would go further, sooner rather than later.

"So, will I see you before next weekend?"

"Well, I'm sure Mom and Dad have something planned for the last day of school, and I wanted to do a little job hunting, but I'll be by when I can."

"That's fine. I can wait," I teased.

"And I can't?" she replied indignantly. Before I could tease some more, she said in a quiet voice, "No, I can't. Waiting is so hard."

I heard my relief pull into the parking lot. I sighed. "Yes, you can. We both have to, and we will. And now I have to get back to work."

We said goodbye. I very nearly uttered those three words, but I caught myself. Afterwards, I wondered why.

There was a Wal-Mart in the major town up the highway that was more than sufficiently anonymous for my purposes. Three dozen condoms fit right in with shampoo, tampons, soap, deodorant, bubble bath, bodywash, and various male and female necessities. I didn't limit my purchases to the health and beauty department -why waste a good shopping trip? I stocked up on the usual bathroom, laundry and kitchen supplies, and hit the food department for red meat and frozen dinners.

The house seemed emptier than usual when I got home, however happy Pat and Julie were to see me. Things perked up when Zander appeared, making Elaine a tangible presence.

I couldn't help it - that "going to hell" image was appearing with more and more frequency, but with less and less intensity or guilt. I still knew intellectually that where we were headed was wrong on several levels. My heart didn't care. My heart felt only the right of it. I knew that I'd follow my heart

Secrets are evil. Maybe not intrinsically evil, but a source of evil at any rate. Secrecy is suppression of truth, and truth wants light. Secrecy is suppression of knowledge, and knowledge wants to be shared. Secrecy is power, and power corrupts. Secrecy is an abrogation of human nature, and sooner or later, humans are true to their nature.

Ten teenaged girls were privy to a secret. How it had remained a secret from the day the eggs were distributed until the day of the hatching is a tribute to Elaine's skills in convincing them of the importance of that secrecy.

Following Impression, a measure of that secrecy escaped the tight circle. First, Mr. B became a conspirator by virtue of being in the right place at the right time. Other parents and some siblings were included in the circle almost immediately, all sworn to secrecy. The one girl who failed to take at least one parent into her confidence had lost her fire lizard, an apparent victim to cracked skin and the cold of between.

Even in as rural area as they lived, Mr. B was not the only afficionado of Anne McCaffrey's works. Several parents had guessed the origin of their daughters' "pets." One other besides Mr. B had recognized the significance of the colors of those pets and the genders of those to whom the pets looked - and some of the significance of her daughter's frequent calls and visits to the B residence. She was undecided about that as yet.

Even so, the main secret was confined to parents and their children in ten families, and would remain so for a long time to come.

Even in the best conspiracy, there are secrets within secrets. That Elaine could "hear" all the fire lizards was known to only three...

Jay considered Elaine one of her best friends, but Jessica was her very best friend, and Jess had just confided that she'd almost gone all the way with her boyfriend.

"I don't know what came over me," she almost whispered, glancing to make sure no one could overhear. "I was just thinking it was time to push him away - you know how he gets - and instead I made him get me off with his hands. I'm afraid to be alone with him again."

"When did you say this happened?" Jay was pretty sure she knew "what had come over" Jessica. She looked around the Burger King as well, but no one was near their corner booth.

"I was at Brad's house a couple of hours after I left yours, why?"

"Well..." Jay wasn't sure how much to tell. She reminded Jess that Elaine had given everyone their eggs, had called the golden queen from somewhere. That Elaine could communicate with fire lizards that she hadn't Impressed.

That was as far as she got in her explanation before Jessica's face turned white. "Oh. My. GOD!"

Startled, Jay only said, "What?"

"If Elaine can link with anyone's fire lizard, she knows everything... everything!

"Well, that isn't exactly what..." Jay tried to explain, but Jessica was too distracted to listen.

"It isn't like I wouldn't have told her, if I wanted her to know, but... Oh, God." Jessica slid out of the booth. "I... I've got to go. I need to... I'll call you later."

"Wait..." But Jessica was gone, leaving her half-eaten fries and untouched drink behind. Jay worried; worried that her very best friend was upset; worried that she had said too much; worried that she hadn't had time to say enough. On top of it all, she worried about whether she should tell her father or Elaine, and what she would say if she did.

Fire lizards, particularly young ones, communicate emotions more strongly than anything else. Elaine was beginning to communicate images with Zander, as when he pictured the fuzzy view from the roof of her house or a vivid image of Pat offering a sliver of meat - he liked that one. Emotions still came through clearest, but Zander was young.

When Elaine felt a strong twinge of fear and anger, she knew it wasn't from Zander, though he felt it too. One of her friends must have a problem, but that wasn't unusual, and she did her best to block it out, and was mostly successful. She'd had a lot of practice. Elaine was acutely aware that post-pubescent females were bundles of raw emotion, aware in a way no adult -except maybe Mr. B - could be. Blocking her friends' mood swings was becoming second nature.