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If it weren't for the decorations and the fact that the track had sleepers but no rails, he would have thought he was just in an ordinary New York subway station. One of those 1930s subways where everything was still made of granite and old, tarnished metal.

But here there was nothing dingy or even just old looking, instead it was as if the last shift of workers had just left and the station was ready to be unveiled.

The platform was all open, interrupted only by the columns which, together with the false columns on the tunnel walls, formed an arch over the track and a boundary for the various scenes. Those scenes were the reason he and Da'an were here now.

In each alcove was a different image, made up of hundreds of square shiny colored tiles the size of a child's palm. Similar marquetry could be seen in other subway stations, but these were different in what they depicted. They had Taelons on them, without a single doubt.

For example, the painting he was looking at right now was of a Taelon rendered in blues and purples, surrounded by a whitish glow, bending over a stylized bush of roses or similar flowers, fingers outstretched as if he were trying to touch them and yet not. Just the typical way that Taelons explored things around them, as if they could touch the invisible field around them.

In the previous alcove was a shuttle, with the same Taelon probably sitting at the controls. The next one had a representation of him in a swarm for a change, a golden branch in one hand and the other palm up, clutching some sort of golden orb - probably one of the handheld scanners the Taelons used. And on and on it went in a similar vein. In each niche, the Taelon was depicted with something typical of a certain important period in human history, until the last niche, which was the only one that was unfinished, but what little had been created... it was very reminiscent of the mothership.

If the station had indeed been built sometime in the 1930s or 1940s, as it appeared to be at first glance, it seemed to be a sort of prophecy of the arrival of the Taelons on Earth, as well as a depiction of the journey through history of one particular Taelon.

"Ma'el," he said quietly to himself.

No sooner had he spoken the name than he caught a flash of blue eyes as Da'an cast a quick glance at him. He had often forgotten that while Taelons did not have ears as such, their hearing was excellent. So Da'an not only heard him, but by the expression and the glint in his eyes, he thought the same.

"Our Companions are indebted to you for bringing this unique discovery to our attention, Mr. O'Reilly," Da'an turned back to the construction worker in charge of digging the foundation for the new Taelon reactor building, during which they had stumbled upon this strange subway station.

"So it's a matter of..." Shaking his head, O'Reilly looked up at the archway above the platform, which was largely filled with a deep red sky with purple stars, bordered by trees with blue bark and some kind of greenish tentacles for leaves. "Why is this station even here? And how the hell did they know anything about the Companions seventy years ago?"

"Those are very good questions that we would like to know the answer to as well," Da'an replied diplomatically, but firmly and in a tone that did not allow for further discussion on the subject.

However, O'Reilly also gave him an uncertain look before changing the direction of the conversation:

"You haven't seen the strangest thing yet," he said, striding towards the end of the platform.

Da'an followed him, Boone close on both their heels.

"The other three tunnels end after a few meters. One can see the end of them. Only this one stretches out somewhere further," O'Reilly explained what was so interesting about the tunnel he had led them to the mouth of.

Intrigue painted a slight bluish flush on Da'an's face, which just flitted across his face before disappearing again, as if he wasn't even there. Boone knew that this burst of energy, imperceptible to others, was evidence of great interest, so he wasn't surprised when Da'an eagerly leaned over the edge and tried to see the end of the tunnel.

Instinctively, he walked over to him and gently grasped his elbow for good measure. Da'an looked up at him sharply, but made no objection, only carefully extricating himself from his grasp before thankfully stepping back from the edge.

"Did you send a team in to find out how long this tunnel mouth is?" Da'an asked.

"Not yet. We're not sure about the statics." O'Reilly straightened his helmet with a frown. "Fully completed tunnels would have undergone at least five complete rebuilds in seventy years. This tunnel here isn't even properly lined. It's going to be very dangerous to go into it."

Bonne leaned over enough to get a good look inside the tunnel.

The first ten meters, also thoroughly illuminated by spotlights at the entrance, were lined, but then the bare rock and smothered dirt continued. The tunnel there was supported only by wooden planks, and beyond that, where he could see only with his CVI-enhanced eyesight, even that wasn't there. He had to agree with O'Reilly, and also wonder who was digging further and further and why, to the point of not caring about his own safety and not properly securing the path behind him.

"I see," Da'an nodded. "And I find it commendable that you do not wish to put your men at risk. However, I will take that risk. Is it possible to borrow from you the equipment necessary for exploration?"

"Yes, but... I can't let you in!" O'Reilly immediately refused. "The tunnel is not secured. If anything happens to you in there, it'll fall on my head!" 

"Don't worry. I'll take all responsibility for any problems, and I'm willing to confirm it in any way you choose."

From his expression, it was clear that O'Reilly was in a state of shock, and it was all he needed. Of course, he had to know that it was against all edicts to let them into the tunnel, but then again, so was their presence here. It was just that being a deputy opened most of the doors. Usually in an official way, like being given an exemption to come here, but often in an unofficial way; simply because he was a Da'an Taelon.

Not only did Boone not agree to a dangerous trip into the uncharted underground, he didn't want to cause trouble for O'Railly, so he had to speak up:

"If I may, Da'an," he addressed him politely, just to get his attention. "As your Protector, I must strongly disagree with your visit to the tunnels. It is dangerous."

"I'm not asking you to come with me, Commander," Da'an replied to his surprise. It was clear that he really wanted to go into the tunnels badly.

"May I speak with you alone?" He asked, still politely, but emphatically enough that Da'an gave him a longer look so that he could make it clear by his expression that he would simply talk whether he wanted to or not.

Taelon didn't reply with words, just nodded, and walked past Boone, stopping only at a nearby pillar where it was likely O'Reilly would no longer hear them.

Boone walked over to him and stood close enough to lean in and have his face almost at his ear if he wanted to. For the moment, though, he didn't.

"Why do you want to go there so urgently? Is it because of Ma'el?" He asked directly; Da'an just looked up at him. "It's because of him, isn't it? He's the one on the intarsia here..."

"As always, your judgment is quick and correct."

He frowned. That wasn't the answer he wanted. He asked why, mostly.

"What's in the tunnel?"

Da'an closed his eyes slowly, then opened them just as slowly, his head tilted a little to the side, a calm, seemingly expression of nothing on his face. But the restlessly moving fingers on the hand he had lowered along his side gave him away.

"Often it is only when we reach our destination that we discover what that destination actually is," Da'an replied in typical Taelon mystery.

"In other words, you have no idea what this place is, who built it, why they built it, or what is hidden in the tunnel."

"Yes. But it is my duty and my wish to find out."

He glanced quickly at the tunnel.

Da'an was determined to make the trip to the tunnel whether Boone would go with him or not. It was obvious that he had simply made up his mind.

As a proper Implant, he would have followed him, in fact they probably wouldn't even be having this discussion since the Motivational Imperative would have prevented any further arguments on his part. Boone's Motivational Imperative didn't work, and Da'an knew it. He was leaving the decision up to him.

But he could hardly stay here if his Taelon entered the tunnel to meet the danger. That was out of the question. Besides, if Ma'el had anything to do with this curious station, or even just the people he had gifted who had become his followers, then there might be something useful for the Resistance in the tunnel. If he didn't find it before Da'an did, he would at least see what it was and be able to keep track of whose hands it would eventually fall into.

Two birds with one stone... but that didn't mean he liked going into the tunnel and allowing Da'an to put himself in danger.

"Good. I'm coming with you."

Da'an wasn't surprised by his words, instead a small amused smile appeared on his lips, telling him that he'd already known what Boone's decision would be.

°°O°°

Just as he had expected, Da'an had no problem convincing O'Reilly to allow them to go into the tunnel, provided, of course, that he accompanied them. He and four volunteers whose volunteerism could be disputed. None of them seemed particularly enthusiastic about going into the unsecured tunnel, but they followed their leader.

Everyone was given an electric torch, that is, except Da'an, who refused it, which made sense. Taelons didn't have sight in the conventional sense, and even if they did, Da'an wouldn't have needed a flashlight anyway, because once they entered total darkness, his body appeared to glow faintly blue in the darkness. It wasn't enough to really light his way, but it was more than enough for Boone.

The worm of apprehension that gnawed at his stomach was eased a little by the thought that even in total darkness he would always know where Da'an was, giving him more time to keep an eye on his surroundings.

After they passed the last of the wooden struts, the tunnel began to narrow rapidly, as if whoever was digging it had stopped trying to pretend that the subway would one day pass through. Eventually, it shrank in width so that two people could walk side by side if they really liked each other, and at most two meters in height. This meant that Bonne could easily reach up to the damp ceiling from which water dripped now and then.

One of the drops, landed on his skrill, which immediately commented on it with a wave of annoyance that flashed somewhere in the back of Boone's mind, but also with a twitch of his tail and an irritated hiss. In general, the cramped, dark and damp space made the Condor nervous, sending him vague images of sunshine and open space.

"Calm. Hopefully we'll reach the end soon," he whispered towards his weapon, as was his habit at times. While Skrill couldn't understand the words, he could understand the emotions attached to them and seemed to enjoy Boone's voice.

"Skrills come from a planet that is ninety-seven percent covered by water. They live on small rock islands covered in plants. I imagine they find this environment... unpleasant," Da'an commented on his actions, raising his hand towards the Skrill, who only responded with another disgruntled hiss. Da'an withdrew his hand again and averted his gaze to the ceiling. "I don't feel comfortable here either. I also hope the end of our journey is not far off."

As if summoned by Taelon, O'Railly's torch illuminated what looked like the end of the tunnel ahead, or rather the entrance to the larger space beyond the tunnel.

"There's a cave," O'Railly called back down the tunnel as he peered out through the entrance into the space beyond the end of the tunnel.

Boone pushed past one of the workers who had accompanied them, leaned his hand against the sharply hewn rock, and leaned forward into the cave, flashlight extended. First he ran the light over the ground to check if there was any there at all. The floor of the chamber was made of the same roughly hewn rock, partially covered with gravel and rocks, but more or less level except for a pedestal in the center of the room. He walked down its rough-hewn surface, upwards, to what looked at first glance like a rusted metal box. On the second, it turned out to be an old safe from the forties or so.

"What the hell is that?" asked O'Railly casually into space.

Before he could answer, Da'an appeared at his side, waiting for nothing and, after one quick glance, about to enter the cave.

He quickly blocked his way.

"No, I'll go first," he said in a firm voice that brooked no objection.

Da'an merely bowed his head in agreement.

Boone checked the floor of the chamber just beyond the entrance again before slowly entering, immediately raising his torch up to the ceiling. It too was rough hewn and unsecured. It rose to a height of about two and a half feet just above the entrance, and in the center of the room, above a pedestal with a safe about a foot high, it rose to a height of ten and a half feet. Because of the jagged carving and lack of light, even his CVI couldn't give him a more accurate reading. Anyway, after running the torch light over both the ceiling and all the walls, he found it relatively safe and motioned for Da'an to enter.

Taelon didn't hesitate for a moment, and of course his steps immediately led to nowhere else but the safe.

He followed, as did O'Reilly, but while they remained standing in front of one side, Boone slowly walked around the pedestal until he found the side where the safe had a door.

"What's that?" asked Da'an, tilting his head from side to side, both hands raised to shoulder level, fingers moving as he tried with all his senses-whatever they were-to determine what he was looking at.

"Safe," he replied, to which Da'an only commented with a questioning look. "The safe. That's... a device where one stores things one doesn't want to lose. Mostly money, jewelry, gold, but also important documents. It's usually made of metal and has some sort of complicated locking mechanism on the door. Here is an old numerical mechanical lock," he pointed to the door he was standing by.

Da'an walked around the pedestal to look at the lock as well. He raised his hand to it and lightly felt the rusted circle of numbers that had once been movable.

"Open it?" he asked as he looked up at Boone.

"Not without the combination," he shook his head. "Besides, the lock is rusted. I doubt it will still work.

"But it's an old safe. I'd say a diamond grinder will cut the hinges in no time," O'Reilly joined them.

"Do you have such a device available?" Da'an asked.

"We do." O'Reilly nodded. "But it needs electricity, and we can't run cables all the way up here. We'll have to take the safe with us."

"It's anchored in the pedestal and fused." Bonne ran his fingers along the bottom edge of the safe, which was indeed set into the very stone of the pedestal and clad all around with iron that, though rusted on the surface, was probably still strong enough that the safe wouldn't just be removed from the pedestal.

"Your Skrill will easily destroy the pedestal."

"I don't think it's a good idea to shoot here," he argued.

"It's the quickest and most efficient way to get the safe to the surface," Da'an replied, not allowing further discussion, stepping back to give him room and motioning with his hand to the pedestal. "Destroy the pedestal, Commander."

Boone clenched his jaw.

Da'an must have known it was too dangerous to fire the Skrill in this small, confined space, when the stability of the entire structure was even more questionable. Still, he had given an order that he could not disobey, for if he did so in front of witnesses, it might reach Sandoval, and thus Zo'or, and they might suspect that Boone's Motive Imperative was not working as it should. Da'an must have done that, too. 

know, in fact it was obvious he was counting on it.

"As you wish, Da'an," he replied, suppressing with all his might the biting tone that crept into his words, and prepared to stand a suitable distance from the pedestal, his hand raised with Skrill. "You'd better back up to the wall."

Out of the corner of his eye, he checked that Da'an, O'Reilly but also the workers, had obeyed him, then sent a thought to Skrill to make the shot as accurate as possible and only weak. Just enough to shatter the stone at the top of the pedestal.

He caught a twinge of disapproval from Condor about the shooting itself, but Skrill had no choice but to obey. The shot was exactly as requested, short and powerful just enough to blast off about two-thirds of the top of the pedestal. Enough that the safe, along with the metal that was attached to it, could be removed.

Despite their best efforts, the sound of the gunshot and the falling remains of the pedestal resonated through the room, causing dust, gravel and dirt to pour from the walls, and even a small tremor to be felt underfoot.

Everyone in the room froze at that moment and looked around, two of the four workers instinctively backing almost to the exit.

Eventually, though, the dust thankfully settled and the echo of the gunshot, which had been almost deafening, became just a ringing in his ears. Then O'Reilly whistled softly.

"Wow... my old shotgun isn't up to this. Where can I get one?"

"The Skrill is one of the Companions' gifts, and it can't be bought or used without a CVI," the Obedient Implant replied, because that was often the best way to avoid intrusive questions. No one wanted to talk at length with Jehovah's Witnesses; the Companions' supporters were often worse.

"Okay," O'Reilly boomed, not caring further about Skrill, and turned to his workers. "Get that safe, boys, and get back here quick. Get us out of here as soon as possible."

Although the safe was not large and therefore not heavy, it took four men to extricate it from the remains of the stone base. It was difficult, partly because of the noise that echoed off the walls and several times caused more gravel to fall, literally stopping the workers in mid-motion and causing them to look up at the ceiling in alarm. 

Boone himself and O'Reilly were just as nervous about it, not to mention Condor, the only one. keeping his cool was Da'an. That is, except for the moment when the workers finally managed to break the safe out, but because they had put a lot of force into getting it out, it slipped out of their hands through inertia and hit the floor with a deafening thud. Then even Da'an flinched at the sudden sound and another shower of gravel, this time both from the ceiling and ejected from the ground, and a quick flash of blue crossed his face.

Everyone froze in horror at that moment, but... nothing happened.

The last fragments of stone rolled away and the dust settled.

This time, only two workers bent down to pick up the safe between them. 

Since it was Boone's duty to protect Da'an in particular, he stood in their way and motioned for Taelon to head for the tunnel entrance first. Da'an thanked him with a nod, walked around him, and side by side with O'Reilly, who was shining a light on them, started back toward the tunnel.

He let the workers with the vault go next, as transporting what was inside was also part of his duty. He let the other two go as well, just in case. It was safest to keep everyone under surveillance so he could be sure they left the cave safely.

They were just about halfway between the pedestal and the gaping tunnel opening when the Condor suddenly laughed violently, wagged his tail and made a squeaking sound along with sending a wave of fear through Boone's mind. For a mere moment he was confused, for the next he heard the crack of breaking stone.

He still managed to look up, where he saw a chunk of the ceiling breaking off in a huge slab.

"Away! Away!" He shouted as he threw himself sideways, instinctively grabbing the nearest worker by the sleeve as he did so and pulling him with him.

A huge chunk of the ceiling fell. Followed by more spilling stones. Dozens of sharp pieces of gravel scattered in all directions. Dust was everywhere. It filled Boone's lungs, stinging his eyes and obscuring the flickering lights of fallen and discarded flashlights.

The noise caused by the fallen ceiling was so great it made his ears whistle, but even through the whistling he could hear curses, screams, moans, and prayers from all the fear. Unknowingly, and of course only with the help of CVI's accelerated reasoning, he counted five human voices, five live ones, before his mind turned to what he was really interested in.

Da'an.

She had to be here somewhere. He had to find her. Right now.

He tried to get up, but such overwhelming pain shot through his right forearm, accompanied by an equally intense pain coming from Skrill, that he almost fell to the ground again. His arm must have been broken. Maybe Condor was hurt too. He didn't know. And he had no way of knowing now, because his flashlight was nowhere in range, and even if it was, there was still so much dust in the air... and in his eyes... that he couldn't see anything anyway.

It didn't matter anyway.

He had to find Da'an, that was all that mattered at the moment. He couldn't lose her. Not again. This time he was here and he could have prevented it.

He used his other hand to pull himself up and look around.

He spotted a worker who had his leg wedged under several rocks, moaning loudly as the other two freed him. One was holding a flashlight and supporting the wounded man's armpit, the other was removing the stones from his leg. A third worker lay against the wall. The unbroken torch lay beside him at such a good angle that Bonne could see his shallowly heaving chest; he was only unconscious.

O'Reilly was nowhere to be seen, but he caught coughing, wheezing, and shuffling footsteps about two and a half yards to his right. It had to be O'Reilly. Da'an didn't need to breathe.

He let O'Reilly out of his sight and continued to search the darkness all around. He saw nothing. Just darkness and another discarded flashlight, which by the dim light must have lost its glass. Da'an was nowhere to be seen. That was impossible. He was glowing in the darkness, faintly, but he was glowing. Unless, of course, she was... 

The possibility sent a waterfall of icy water down his back and his stomach hit his boxing glove.

No! He refused to accept that Da'an could be dead. Besides, it didn't even make sense. Taelons were immune to any physical attack, starting with a fist bump that only ended up injuring the attacker. To being hit with something heavy like a pipe or bat, to being hit by a bullet that even just flew through their body. At one point, Da'an told him casually that he could probably survive being hit by a truck unscathed.

A falling half ton of rock couldn't be more dangerous than a truck.

He scrambled to his feet and, with his right hand pressed to his chest to relieve as much pain as possible, began shuffling through the darkness in the direction he suspected the tunnel would go. Da'an went first. She had to be closest to the exit.

"Da'an! Da'an!" He called, before being interrupted by a coughing fit as the dust got deeper into his throat. He cleared his throat thoroughly and then called out again despite the scratchy pain in his throat: "Da'an! Come in! Da'an!"

The room wasn't so large that he couldn't search it all, but without light it would be difficult. He turned to reach for a dropped lantern when he heard the sound of gravel spilling behind him. It didn't sound like the harbinger of another cave-in, though. No, this was more the sound of a body moving on the gravel path.

"Da'an!" With a shout, he turned at the sound and took off after it. "Coming, Da'an."

It was slow going, as he couldn't see all the rocks tumbling to the ground in the darkness, but he was greatly encouraged when he saw a faint bluish glow ahead of him.

Two more steps. He fell to the ground. And he groped for the glow.

It was Da'an's hand. And it was moving! What's more, when he touched the hand, it turned in his palm. Their fingers intertwined. The familiar tingle of energy caressed his skin. It was as intense as ever, and it brought Boone a sense of relief.

"I'll get you out."

He let go of Da'an's hand, but didn't relinquish contact. His palm traveled up the faintly glowing forearm to the elbow that was already wedged under the first stone. After quickly gauging its size by touch, he grasped it and rolled it aside. This revealed not only the elbow, but even the shoulder, part of the cheek, and the other hand and wrist. On top of all of this, Da'an's heavy piece of stone lay, yet when he looked into his face, his eyes were open and as bright blue as ever. There wasn't even the slightest scratch on the perfectly regular features illuminated by his inner light.

"I'll pull you up."

He offered his palm. Da'an took it with both hands.

The Taelon itself was as light as a feather, but the weight of the rocks on top of it was too much for Boone to just pull it out from underneath. More rocks needed to be removed, but that was nearly impossible with one hand if he wanted to do it quickly. And he definitely had to. The first landslide could be quickly followed by another.

"O'Reilly! I need help here!" He called over his shoulder to the cluster of flashlights that even illuminated the tunnel entrance.

"I'll be right there!" O'Reilly replied.

Then there was another ominous crack of breaking rock.

And that was the last Boone heard.

°°O°°

"Boone. Commander Boone..."

He opened his eyes heavily, and the first thing he saw was a pale blue glowing silhouette bending over him. He blinked. It didn't help much. His vision was still blurry and uncomfortably dark, which fortunately could have been because the area around them was poorly lit by two flashlights.

He groped for the one on his left... its metal surface was dull in his hand. He gripped it and lifted it up enough for the cone of light to illuminate the luminous silhouette above him. 

It was Da'an.

"Da'an..." he gasped, trying to rise. 

At that moment, pain erupted from several places on his body.

He could feel his broken arm, along with the Condor's pleading cries. He realized he had to bruise his right hip and hip as well, though the pain there wasn't as bad. The absolute worst was the one that had exploded in his head.

With a groan, he pressed his hand with the flashlight to his forehead. He immediately realized that the warm, sticky wetness that was there would be blood. The fact that he glanced at his hand afterwards was just for reassurance.

"What happened?" He asked, looking up at Da'an.

"The first landslide was followed by another. You lost consciousness after being hit by one falling rock," Da'an replied, placing pleasantly cool, slightly electrifying fingertips on his temple. "I'm afraid the impact may have caused damage to your brain and probably your CVI as well. Also, your wrist is apparently broken and your Skrill is also damaged."

He leaned back into the cool touch and closed his eyes. Even lying down, he could feel everything spinning around with him, and when his eyes were open, even in the complete darkness, he could see flashing points of light that definitely couldn't be real. Having his eyes closed was far more comfortable, and when Da'an's fingers began tracing tiny circles, he could only manage a sigh of relief. He could have easily let this go on all day. Da'an's fingers caressing his temples while he would just sleep on his - 

He opened his eyes abruptly.

He suddenly realized that not only was he hundreds of feet underground in a cave, but also that his head was resting on Da'an's knees. A beautiful dream or fantasy, certainly nothing he wanted... or dared to want to experience in reality.

It wasn't so much fear that brought him up to a sitting position dangerously quickly, but rather a sense of shame at his own reaction. Either way, he regretted the abrupt movement as soon as a wave of pain spilled from his forehead to the back of his head and back again to settle behind his eyes and try to push them out of their sockets.

Another groan trapped behind pursed lips.

"Yeah, you're right... oh... I think I have a concussion. I think... I feel a lot like I did when I had it," he proceded between clenched teeth as a very clear image of Da'an wedged under the stones suddenly flashed through his mind, bringing with it a terrible pain. He couldn't help groaning this time.

Like a butterfly a light hand dropped on his back.

"You must remain calm -"

"No!" Da'an interrupted, a little more abruptly than he intended, clasping the hand she had folded in her lap, perhaps as an apology, before looking into her bright blue, luminous eyes. "I'm fine. How are you? I saw..."

"I am unharmed," Da'an assured him reassuringly, his hand raised in a conciliatory gesture.

It wasn't that he didn't believe his words, but he still checked with his flashlight that Da'an was indeed fine. Aside from the torn sleeve of his jumpsuit and the fact that he was covered in dust and dirt, he looked as nervous and as calm as ever, except perhaps for the eyes that were fixed on him with an unprecedented intensity that looked like concern and worry.

He turned away to deal with the problem they obviously had, not only because it was necessary, but also because he didn't want to deal with the strange feeling... the faint hope of... something... that he had when Da'an looked at him like that. Getting out was definitely a matter of importance.

"Since I'm still here, I suppose..."

"... the second landslide blocked the entrance to the tunnel," Da'an finished for him.

"I'll try calling for help," he decided, reaching into his pocket, only it was empty.

"I already did," Da'an informed him, placing the Global on the ground in front of Boon. "Unfortunately," he ran his hand over the air above the device, "its signal isn't strong enough to get through the rocks that separate us from the surface. However, I'm sure Agent Sandoval will contact us immediately once he reaches the cave-in. If not sooner."

"So there's nothing to do but wait," he assessed their situation grimly and wearily. He felt incredibly exhausted, so much so, in fact, that the pain in his arm as well as the pain in his injured Skrill and even his throbbing head seemed to have diminished. They seemed to have receded into the background.

"Very well," Da'an agreed. "And I would suggest you get some rest."

He shook his head.

"I must not fall asleep," he refused; Da'an gave him a questioning tilt of his head. "People with concussions... shouldn't sleep. It's a way to prevent seizures... neurological ones."

"I understand," Taelon nodded, "but you should still keep your physical and mental activity to a minimum. If your CVI is damaged, which seems likely to me, it can regenerate, but it needs rest and time to do so. If spontaneous regeneration fails and your CVI is permanently damaged..." he let the words ring out into the void, but at the same time he placed his palm on Boone's forearm again and squeezed urgently.

He looked into his eyes.

"Reimplantation would be necessary."

"Yes."

That one word was enough for mutual understanding.

The CVI implantation without the Motivational Imperative had succeeded the first time only because Da'an, who trusted Dr. Belman completely, had supervised it. Likewise, it remained a secret only because of Da'an. But if it had to be re-implanted, Zo'or would surely have arranged for another doctor to implant it and supervise the implantation himself. The new CVI would have had a fully functional Motivational Imperative that would have forced Boone to tell everything about the Resistance; the secret bases, the list of members, past and future activities... just everything, plus the fact that Da'an had known all along about the dysfunction of the Motivational Imperative and possibly his involvement with the Resistance and had done nothing.

He didn't know which of those he was more threatened by, but even one of the reasons was enough to give Da'an's recommendation.

"I'll stay... here somewhere and be at peace," he agreed even aloud, rather unconsciously relaxing enough to threaten to fall backwards if something solid wasn't behind his back.

He pulled away in surprise and turned the flashlight behind him to see what he was leaning against. It was the wall of the chamber. Da'an had not only somehow managed to get out from under the pile of rocks, but had also dragged Boone to the wall where there was a few percent less risk of another section of the ceiling collapsing on them. He was grateful for that. He really was.

With a sigh, he leaned back against the cold stone, closing his eyes for just a brief moment so he wouldn't have to look at the shifting colored lights.

°°O°°

Entering the kitchen, he tightened his tie and straightened his collar. It was just seven-fifteen and Kate was scooping the bacon-scented meat from the pan onto plates.

"Two things I like best in the morning," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Kate's waist and pulled her close so he could feel her warmth in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair inhaling the scent of chamomile shampoo. 

"Let me guess... the two things are me and fried bacon," she replied with a laugh.

"Didn't I marry the smartest woman in the world?" He whispered in her ear while showering her neck with tiny kisses he knew would make her start laughing and squirming.

"Stop it!" she admonished, nudging him a little with her elbow. "Better pour us some coffee and get the cutlery out."

"Aye aye, ma'am!" He said with military firmness and let her go.

The coffee pot was already full, as usual, and it was enough to take out two cups, add two spoonfuls of sugar to one, and then carry them and the cutlery for both of them to the counter, where Katey had already placed the breakfast plates. Toast fried to golden brown, crispy bacon, eggs, and a bowl of cherry tomatoes, which had miraculously grown in the chests on the roof under Katey's hands.

"You didn't get back until after midnight last night," she grumbled as he set the coffee mug down in front of her.

He just sighed, knowing where she was going.

"I was hoping now that you're captain you'd have more time."

"So did I. You know I do, but there's so much paperwork. Besides, I can't just go home while my men are serving overtime..."

"You don't have to defend me, Will," she stopped him in the middle of the litany he was about to spout. "I fell in love with a soldier, planned my life with him, and then married a cop. I knew what that entailed. I care about you and, more importantly, your health. You know what Dr. Rogers and I talked about."

Boone's gaze wandered to the television screen sitting on the refrigerator in the corner. It was on, but with the sound off, as Kate usually did. She just listened to the weather reports and then turned the TV down until they'd had breakfast and needed to turn the sound back on to listen to the traffic reports.

That's why he didn't know what was happening on the screen, but he was intrigued. 

There was the White House with an incredibly realistic alien spaceship hovering over it. If he was to believe the perspective, it was actually about the size of a container ship. Huge, but appropriately so, to make it look believable. A good job was done on the look itself as well. While people had imagined shuttles and spaceships to be very solid, made of painted metal and often with large windows, this one was made up of what looked like purple tendrils with a rainbow-effect foil stretched between them. And the overall shape of the ship was sort of... organic. A bit like a squid when it's swimming fast.

It could quite possibly be described as a masterpiece of set design, but it was completely cheapened by the shaky camera that was probably meant to represent a TV newscast. But what kind of film was this? He knew a lot of sci-fi movies because he was a bit of a fan, but he didn't recognize this one. Besides, why would they have it on so early in the morning, and even if they did, why would Katy let it run.

Suddenly, the old familiar field anchor of their usual channel appeared on the screen, holding a microphone and gesturing towards the spaceship with an expression of a mixture of disbelief, shock, fear and excitement.

Boone frowned, reached for the remote that lay next to the napkin stand, and turned on the sound.

"... I repeat! This is not a joke! We're broadcasting live from the White House! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, what you are seeing is happening right now... at this very moment! They're here! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! They're really here!" the reporter shouted into the microphone, waving his hand wildly.

"What's that? Some kind of movie?" Kate asked, who had also already turned to the giantess and was frowning at her.

"They say it's real..." he let it trail off. He didn't believe it himself. It wasn't possible, but...

"When we got the invitation to President Thompson's emergency press conference in the newsroom this morning none of us thought it might be... I have to say it! That this could be the first ever alien visit to our planet. But it is!" the reporter kept shouting, but at least now he was holding the microphone with both hands. "It really is! It's happening everywhere in the world, not just in the United States. I have reports from Paris, Moscow, Prague, Hong Kong and many, many other major cities!"

The crowd of journalists, but mainly of people in which the reporter was standing, suddenly rose in a wave of astonished roar, which naturally attracted the reporter's attention.

He turned and looked toward the ship, probably at something that had just detached from the hull and was beginning its slow descent down toward... Boonne only now noticed that the crowd wasn't just standing outside the White House gates, it was gathered under a podium that included President Thompson, the Secretary of State, the Secretary of Defense, and a number of high-ranking military brass.

"That's a smaller ship... probably a shuttle... get a quick close-up, Bobb!" the reporter instructed the cameraman, who immediately complied.

The camera focused on the descending object, which indeed must have been a shuttle.

Like the big ship above the White House, it was made up of purple tendrils, its shape somewhat resembling the fuselage of a cargo plane without wings or tail, except that instead of a nose it had a transparent dome behind which figures could be seen. At first glance, they looked like people. Two arms, two legs, a body and a head. Not much more was discernible because of the poor image, but even that was enough to make Boone doubt. After all, it could have just been some big prank.

But his doubts were crushed to dust in one of the few genuine, unadulterated shocks of his life when the dome disappeared, revealing the pilot and passenger in all their... inhumanity. 

"My God. Those are real aliens," gasped an equally shocked Kate.

He didn't know how to react to that, just stared blankly - as he realized later - at the alien passenger, who stepped out of the shuttle and walked slowly, with a strange swaying, undulating gait, towards the lectern.

It had... no, it had... or it had... Bonne wasn't sure what gender the alien was, so he resorted in his mind to calling it 'it'.

It had arms, legs, torso and head like a human, it was even tall like a human. It was also wearing a jumpsuit made of a strange shiny material, but it looked quite human. What didn't look so human was the head. Although it had a face on it with a mouth, nose and eyes, the face was strangely expressionless, almost as if it had no proper features. No wrinkles. No extra skin. In fact, it didn't even have a beard or eyelashes or eyebrows, but it did have incredibly bright blue eyes that shone out of the face, also because there was no hair on the head. Besides, the alien's head was a little bigger. Not by much, but compared to the President standing next to it, it was easy to see.

It's skin was a strange grey and white, a bit pearly, which contrasted with the dark purple jumpsuit encircling the aforementioned human body... but which at the same time wasn't all that human. The alien may not have had a tail or anything similarly noticeable, but its posture was odd. On the one hand, his back was unnaturally straight, but on the other hand, he gave the impression of being so flexible that he could slump to the ground like a large puddle in the next few moments.

And the way he moved... he was rather gliding towards the lectern, as if he didn't even have bones, and he added to the impression with his arms raised above his waist and his fingers moving restlessly. The movement of those fingers hadn't stopped the entire time, at least not until the alien placed his hands on the lectern.

At that moment, too, the raucous crowd was almost silent.

The alien slowly turned his head to one side and then the other as he surveyed the crowd, then closed his eyes for what was apparently a long moment and, when he opened them, finally spoke:

"Earthlings. My name is Da'an. I am an emissary of the Taelons, and know that we come in peace."

The voice that poured from the screen was soft and supple, like flowing butter, and was unmistakably female.

°°O°°

Boone blinked in confusion.

He wasn't sure if he'd momentarily lost consciousness or just fallen asleep or if it was one of the detailed memories the CVI was bringing back. Maybe more things all together. Either way, it was so incredibly vivid, more vivid even than the CVI memories that conveyed everything from the smell, to details he wasn't even aware of at the time, to the feel of the warm sun on his skin. With those, he'd always been aware that they were the memories, but this... this was like being transported back in time to that day and then back again.

He felt like it had only been a few seconds since he'd held Kate in his arms, sipped her insanely strong coffee and just been with her. Happy, in love, and most of all, loved. Her chamomile scent, the warmth of her ass against his groin, her laughter and...

And the sense of wonder, fascination and fear of the unknown that he had at the sight of Da'a and with it all... something like the attraction of two magnets. He didn't realize it at the time, and probably didn't want to, but he could feel the connection between them even then. Not the longing he'd felt of the day, a different kind of connection. An unnameable one.

"You knew the moment you first saw her that you would meet and share a destiny," Kate said.

"His," he corrected her.

"His. Her. What does it matter? Taelons don't care about that," Kate smiled.

"He doesn't, but he wants me to refer to him as a man, and that's what I do."

"You do, but not in your head," Kate countered in a knowing voice; sometimes it was as if she could read his mind, for which he loved her as much as he hated her. "That's where you call him 'she' more and more, because it makes it easier for you to deal with how you're starting to feel about Da'an."

"Commander Boone?" Da'an addressed him.

He must have looked up to him, because he was standing off to the side, at the very edge of the cone of light the flashlight was casting. Between that and the bluish light Taelon was surrounded by, he could see his head tilted questioningly, confusion written across his face. His arms were raised above his waist, palms up, and the fingers on both of them flicked rapidly together. 

"Who are you talking to?" Da'an asked as they locked eyes.

"To Kate, of course," he said, as if it were perhaps not obvious. 

Still, Da'an looked around, whereupon she stepped forward and held her hands up, palms up in a clearly clueless gesture.

"There is no being here other than the two of us."

He frowned. That made no sense.

"But she's right here," he pointed to his wife, who was leaning against the wall beside him.

She sat at his side as comfortably as possible on the hard, cold stone floor. She was wearing his favorite floral dress. Yes the one that was maybe too short, but he loved it because he could admire her legs and ass every time she moved away from him after he dropped her off at work. And she had that small, kind smile on her face that she most often gave him in the mornings when he woke up next to her.

"She's right, Will. I'm not really here," she said to his initial confusion, which quickly turned to understanding.

His CVI was indeed damaged and probably just collapsed. That meant he was facing certain death in a few hours, but before that, insanity, loss of control, and the feeling that your brain was melting alive, which it was.

"My CVI... is collapsing," he uttered without looking away from his wife, who continued to watch him with that small smile. 

"It's possible," Da'an agreed, stepping closer. "However, aren't visions one of the possible signs of a brain injury?" He asked, to which Boone nodded, his gaze still not leaving Katy. "Then it's still possible that the primary source of your hallucinations is just your brain, and the CVI just adds precision and vividness to them. We have to hold out hope that reimplantation won't be necessary."

It was only when he said the last sentence that Boone turned to him.

"We?" He repeated faintly.

"Yes. We. I would not wish to see you shackled by the Motivational Imperative," Da'an replied, admitting for the first time quite openly that he knew.

Boone drew a long breath. It hurt a little, as his ribs were probably bruised, but the pain was nothing compared to the strange feeling that came over him when Da'an not only admitted that he knew about the absence of the Imperative, but was actually comfortable with it and wished to change nothing about it. That realization only reinforced the confidence he had in Da'an, and he also felt flattered by it, which he found a little ridiculous.

But he didn't find the mere fact that he was flattered when a woman took an interest in his well-being as ridiculous as the extent to which Da'an cared about that interest.

A self-ironic chuckle escaped him.

Da'an cocked her head to one side and blinked in confusion.

"It's nothing..." he shook his head, only to cause himself further dizziness and pain. He rubbed his eyes with his good hand, then looked back up at Da'an, whereupon the question occurred to him, "Where did you go?"

Unperturbed by the complete change of subject, Taelon turned slightly so he could motion to the pile of rubble.

"I noticed a vault in a crevice between the stones. I have already succeeded in partially extricating it. Looks like the falling rocks damaged it enough for us to open it and look inside."

He looked in the direction Da'an pointed, but unfortunately all he could see in the remnants of the diffused light from the torch cone was the outline of stones stacked on top of each other. If there was a vault somewhere, the only way he could find it was if he got up and went to look with the light.

"Let me help you."

"I can do it myself," Da'an retorted with a raised hand before he could even begin to rise. "You wouldn't be of much use to me in your condition anyway," he added, but the slight tilt of the corner of his lips said he meant it as a good-natured tease.

With a sigh, but also a smile, he leaned back against the wall again. Da'an acknowledged this with a satisfied nod before turning away, his blue shimmering silhouette joining the dark silhouettes of the pile of stones. Boone had no choice but to watch this shadowplay.

"He's got a dry sense of humor," Kate remarked.

"Yeah, and a bit of a biter, too," he agreed with a grin. 

"You like that."

"Yes," he admitted with a laugh.

"And what else do you like about him?" Kate asked, leaning against his side as she used to do when they sat on the couch together in the evenings, watching TV or talking.

He turned to her.

He could feel her touch and smell the chamomile shampoo even the warmth of her body against his side. She didn't look like a hallucination at all, but like his Kate, and her question was all the more unsettling. She would never ask him what he liked in another woman let alone a man - it didn't matter that Da'an was neither. Yes, she would tease him occasionally with declarations that the movie they were about to watch would feature his favorite actress and maybe even a half-naked one. Only that was different. She always said it with a laugh, not the light yet serious tone she used to inquire about their plans for the weekend together.

"I'm not sure... if I should talk to you," he admitted.

"I'm just hallucinating. Talking to your own hallucination isn't any worse than cursing to yourself... and as far as I can remember you do that every time you have to get your ass off the couch and put on something decent instead of sweatpants," she replied with a laugh, patting his stomach, and though he felt her touch, it didn't hurt, though his stomach and chest must have been all bruises. 

"I don't think it's so bad with me..." he growled in would-be offense.

"No, it could be worse. You could just wear shorts instead of sweatpants." Kate continued to tease, causing him to smile again. "So?" She asked.

He turned to her. 

"Will you finally tell me what you like about Da'an?"

He took a breath to answer, but then let it out again and looked in the direction where Da'an was systematically taking down one stone after another. He was holding a chunk of rock that Boone could hardly lift himself, but Taelon easily set it aside as if it were just a piece of polystyrene.

"Her strength," he replied thoughtfully. "I don't mean that she can somehow... lift heavy rocks, I mean... she's probably the only Taelon who doesn't see humans as simple creatures... sees us as equals. It must be hard... to have that attitude and be the only one." He frowned, watching as Da'an dropped to his knees and began to shovel away the mixture of gravel and dirt in which the vault hung. Soon Boone realized that his bluish glow was probably stronger, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to see what Da'an was doing so clearly.

"And next?" Kate prompted him.

"Next?" He turned to her in surprise, having almost forgotten she was there. "Further? Further... her wisdom. We don't agree on everything... and not everything that applies to Taelons can apply to humans... but it makes me think when we talk. Also the way she looks at all living things... and children," he chuckled softly. "You should see her... she reminds me a lot of you in that way."

"You didn't say anything about the way she looks," Kate pointed out. "About her beauty, her pretty legs and piercing blue eyes. Don't you think she's attractive?"

"No... yes... she... he is beautiful," he admitted with a strange mixture of embarrassment crossing over to shame and fear. "In a way... in a very un-human way. She has beautiful hands... I like her smile... but..."

"She's a Taelon. And it scares you that you might be attracted to someone who is not only not a woman, not even human," Kate finished for him.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment, deciding how he should respond. If he should admit that he did, she was right. He was worried about the way he had come to view Da'an, and not just because it was a risk because of the role he held as a Resistance agent (being attached to Da'an could easily discredit him in Doors' eyes). It was mostly about the inherent contradiction between what he felt and what he considered... normal. Or at least normal to him. If it was someone else, maybe even a friend... he didn't deny that it would surprise him, but just as he didn't care if Lili, for example, decided to spend the rest of her life with a woman he wouldn't be opposed to her choosing Taelon either. Okay, in her case specifically, there was just as much of a problem with the resistance as there was with Boone himself, but... the point remained the same.

If it was someone else, he wouldn't have a problem, but this was about him. He'd never been attracted to anyone but women in his life. Feminine-looking, feminine-dressing, feminine-acting women. Yes, he liked women who knew how to follow through and speak up when there was a problem, so he couldn't be with a woman who was always waiting for his permission, guidance, and who would devote all her time and energy to taking care of him - he knew several of those. But equally, he didn't like women who were too... masculine. Even Lili was already too sharp in that she wanted to solve all problems with a fist or a gun. Perhaps that was why he saw her more as a sister, even though she was a truly beautiful woman.

Da'an... Da'an didn't fall into any category, male or female. On the one hand, he possessed the qualities Boone attributed mostly to women, such as compassion and empathy, but on the other hand, he possessed the purely masculine ones, such as cold logic sliding to ruthlessness, where he was willing to sacrifice lives for the greater good. He was sometimes childishly naive, but at the same time possessed knowledge of immeasurable breadth and wisdom. He was just too... different to tell if he was his type.

Type... He smiled bitterly inwardly. Speaking of type, he couldn't overlook Da'an's physical appearance. Despite how often he attributed femininity to him in his thoughts, Da'an looked neither female nor male.

The jumpsuit didn't hide much, so yes... god yes, he could tell that he had really nice long legs, a firm round ass that literally invited to be fondled and kissed. Also nice hips exquisite considering her perhaps a little too slim waist, but that wouldn't be a problem. No, that only came into view the moment he slid his gaze higher to the flat chest without the slightest hint of breasts. That was always an ice shower. And the same thing happened when he first focused on Da'an's face. His lips were indeed sensuously shaped, though they were almost white in color and seemed to be dusted with pearl. They blended in beautifully with his regular features, where oddly enough it wasn't so distracting that he had no hair and no ears. Nor did it bother him that Da'an had a sharp slope to his shoulders and long, very slender arms that lacked the curves he liked in a woman's arms. Perhaps that was made up for by elegant hands with slender, dexterous fingers that he knew were more important to Taelons than humans.

It was all fine and he wouldn't hesitate to call Da'an beautiful because of it, but he just…

It was as if he had a wall in his mind that he always ran into. Men had flat chests. Breasts meant femininity, and he was attracted to women. It was that simple. Except he not only had feelings for Da'an, he was attracted to him too. And that scared him. After all, he was a heterosexual male, how could he be attracted to an androgynous alien?

"Commander Boone?" Da'an interrupted his thoughts.

He jerked and looked up at him sharply.

Taelon stood over him, his hand holding the safe as if it weighed nothing and for the last time it didn't need to be carried by two strong men.

"I managed to free the safe," he announced the obvious, whereupon he dropped to his knees without much difficulty and placed the safe next to Boone's thigh.

The safe was crumpled on all sides from the stones that had fallen on it, but it held together remarkably well in spite of its age and condition. Except for the top left corner above the door, which was bent just enough to reveal a hole large enough to hook a finger or crowbar into. Then maybe, just maybe, the door could be pried open, but it would take a lot of strength and a good deal of luck.

"If we had a crowbar here, we could try..." the words died on his lips as Da'an hooked the fingers of both hands into the hole and pulled.

If it were a human, he would have told him he was attempting the impossible, but in Taelon's case, he just watched in a bit of surprise as a bluish glow swept across his face, the energy trails rising to the surface for a moment before the blue glow focused into his hands, which literally ripped the vault door off with newfound inhuman strength and a loud crack.

"You could have opened the safe all along," he couldn't help the annoyance, though it was partly caused by seeing Da'an's power, but the fact that he could easily open the safe only occurred to him now that he had seen it with his own eyes.

"Yes."

A simple answer that made him a little more irritated.

"Then why didn't you?" He asked pointedly. "You made me use the skrill instead. If I hadn't had to shoot... we wouldn't be in this mess."

Da'an closed his eyes for a moment, a bluish glow crossing his face, then opened them again.

"It's true that we can greatly increase our physical strength for a limited time, but it's not free." He raised a finger emphatically. "It costs me energy, and energy, though people think otherwise, is not unlimited. If I use too much of it, the structural integrity of my shell will collapse and my consciousness will go to the next level... or cease to exist. It depends on how much energy I would have left."

He wasn't sure exactly what the difference was for Taelon between ceasing to exist and going to the next level. Or better yet, if they really were able to completely leave their shells and live as pure, unrestricted energy. In either case, it meant Da'an's passing. Death, one might say.

"I'm sorry. I should have realized... just..." He rubbed his forehead with a sigh.

"We'd better see if the contents of the vault were worth the trouble we went to in obtaining it," Da'an changed the subject, for which Boone was grateful.

Then Taelon reached into the open vault before he could shine a light in there and with utter infallibility pulled out the orb. It was so large that it fit comfortably in Da'an's palm, formed of dull purple metal and surrounded by Taelon's markings.

He shone his light on them and focused despite his headache.

It loosely read something like 'Preserved for the Future', which might have sounded prophetic in English, but in reality the words had no deeper meaning. He'd seen quite a few signs like that in the embassy. They were austere designations of corridors and rooms, control terminals and basically any kind of apparatus. So it seemed that whatever the orb was in Da'an's hands, it was a standard inventory of Ma'el's ship.

"What is it?"

"A device designed for long-term storage of information. This particular one is modified for extremely inhospitable conditions. Ma'el's ship was equipped with just such."

"Is it still functional after all these centuries?"

"Yes," Da'an nodded, turning to him. "But to read it, you need to hook it up to the computer at the embassy."

"So he won't help us find a way out," he stated with a bitter smile, letting the flashlight drop into his lap. The cone of its light fell briefly into the safe as it did so, revealing that there was an envelope at the bottom of it.

Da'an saw it too, as he placed the Taelon orb in his lap and reached for the envelope. Since he had left it low in the torchlight after pulling it out, Boone could clearly see that it was yellowed with age and bearing a wax seal. Something like that hadn't been used for a good seventy years or as decoration on some papers. The only time he'd seen the seal on a letter was in his grandfather's desk, where he kept his World War I letters. It was no wonder then that Da'an turned the letter over in his hands with a puzzled expression.

"The seal needs to be broken," he advised, but the answer was only a questioning look. "Give it to me. I'll do it," he offered, moving his injured hand carefully as he did so. Not only did his broken bone protest, but more importantly, Condor sent his pain not only through their mental connection, but made it known aloud by making an unhappy sound similar to the screeching of fingernails on a chalkboard.

He had to grit his teeth at the pain and the screech, but he accepted the envelope from Da'an and broke the seal with his other hand. He took the letter that was inside between the fingers of his good hand and let the envelope fall to the floor. As carefully as his limited momentum allowed, he unfolded the letter and tilted it towards the light so that Da'an could bend over it as well.

"November ninth, nineteen thirty-one," he began to read aloud. "I write this letter in the hope that my dreams are what my mother claimed and you, human and electric angel, will read it somewhere in the future."

They looked at each other. There was no doubt that whoever wrote this message was talking about the two of them. 

"I am the last of a long line of guardians of the Vessel of Knowledge (I think it's actually a complex miniature computer), and I will remain the last, for I have only a few months to live on this world, and there is also another great war on the horizon. So I have to hide the Vessel so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. But I feel that the knowledge contained in it is important to its rightful owners - the electric angel and his protector.

I think that's why I have this dream. A dream about a strange man and a returning angel. They are the rightful owners. To them I must hand over the Vessel of Knowledge. I must fulfill the dream of them, or I will have no peace.

If you are reading this, I have kept my resolution and my soul can rest in peace.

Signed... Jonathan Frakes."

"There can be no doubt. Ma'el's records were hidden here by a descendant of one of those he gifted," Da'an stated.

"A descendant who saw the two of us... pfft... seventy years ago maybe even earlier? Is that even possible?"

Da'an turned his gaze to him, his head tilting a little to the side while nodding gravely.

"Time is one of many overlapping dimensions. It is not linear as people believe, much more like... the ocean." He lightly indicated the vast expanse of water with his hand. "It is full of currents running in different directions and at different speeds. If one's mind is sufficiently in tune with the being, one can travel through some of the currents both backwards," he motioned his hand towards himself, "and forwards." This time he waved her away from him.

He couldn't say that he fully understood, but he could at least get some idea of it thanks to Da'an's description. Still, it did them no good. They were still facing the same problem. That some, probably partially insane, and certainly rich (who but a rich man would have the means to build a subway station just for fun) guy from the thirties had done everything he could to get them Ma'el's records, which could only be read on the embassy computers (who knew if Augur could get into them), and they were stuck here because of him.

"If he knew we were going to be stuck here, he could have made sure that didn't happen, or at least given us directions on how to get out."

"He may not have known or thought there was a reason for our being trapped," Da'an replied calmly, even sounding a bit like he was lecturing him. "Or, on the other hand, he did something to prevent an even greater catastrophe, and that resulted in what happened to us. The currents of time are too complicated even for the Taelons. That is why we agreed several thousand years ago that we would not interfere with them in any way." He lowered his gaze to the letter that lay on Boone's thigh. "To the human mind, time must be uncontainable. So I suppose he merely built the subway station from what he saw in his dreams. The paradox is that if he had never built it he could not have seen it in his dreams. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy," he added thoughtfully.

"I hate to say it... Ma'el's records, like clairvoyance and self-fulfilling prophecies, are... fascinating, but it won't get us out."

"I'm afraid not."

He leaned back again with a sigh. His hand was starting to hurt like hell... no, wait, it wasn't his hand, it was Condor's. While his broken arm hurt too, the main pain was coming from Skrill.

He carefully moved his broken arm into the torchlight to get a better look at his Skrill. The poor Condor's tail was in an unnatural position, obviously broken, and the site of the break had a swelling that was now bursting and yellow colored fluid was starting to ooze out. This did not look good at all.

"Can I take a look?" Da'an asked, raising his hands so that he was almost touching Boone and yet not.

He just nodded and placed his hand in his palm.

He expected his wrist to explode in pain, but strangely enough, it didn't. The pain was there, but no new pain came. The touch was gentle, almost imperceptible, as if a butterfly had landed on his arm, and at the same time pleasantly cool and electric.  Pleasant... unfortunately only for him. The condor was of the exact opposite opinion. He downright disliked the Taelons, and that included Da'an, and despite the fact that he was in a bad way, he didn't hesitate to make his opinion known, both by hissing and by the wave of venomous disgust he sent Boone. Thus completely ruining his experience of such rare and pleasant touches with Da'an.

Taelon must have sensed the Skrill's hostility, because he flinched violently with one hand, the one that was almost touching him, and withdrew the other. He should have followed that up by putting his hands completely away, but strangely he didn't. He just moved them lower, so that he held Boone's palm and fingers between his palms.

He stared at their joined hands and wondered unconsciously if his hands were that big or if Da'an's were that small and small. Because he needed both of them, so he could hide Boone's between them, and not quite yet.

"Skrill, I'm afraid, is seriously damaged. It will probably need to be replaced," Da'an interrupted his reverie.

"I'd hate to do that. I've grown accustomed to the Condor," he responded a little absently, but quickly composed himself and looked into Da'an's curiously glowing eyes.

"Did you give it a name?" A voice brimming with interest inquired. 

"No... not me. Dr. Clark did. But I call him that. I think he's heard of it."

"He's not an intelligent being," Da'an pointed out.

That was something he would have argued with him over under different circumstances. Maybe Skrill wasn't as intelligent as humans or Taelons, but he certainly had the perception of a dog. And that was justification enough for him to call Skrill by name.

"He's not intelligent like humans... and certainly not like Taeloni... but he is... sort of like my pet, like a dog. People give names to dogs, too, and they hear them."

He felt a shiver through their touch. It was not only a tingling of risen energy seeping through Da'an's skin, but something else as well. It was... emotion. It was recognition, which Taelon also showed by lowering his head and closing his eyes briefly.

"Then I will hope that his replacement will not be necessary," Da'an said softly, then tilted his head questioningly. "What about your injuries, Commander?" He asked, raising his hand and gently touching the dried blood on Boone's head. It was on the side, right down to his hair, causing a terrible headache as well as a feeling of faintness and a sparkle before his eyes. Strangely though, not when Da'an touched it. As with the broken arm, his touch was gentle and cooling.

"It hasn't gotten worse."

"And you still see your wife?"

He hadn't thought to follow her until now, he just kept seeing her in the corner of his eye, but now that he thought about it... she was gone, and had been for some time. At least since Da'an had returned to him with the safe. 

"I think," he looked around, "that she's been gone since we started talking."

"That's a good sign," Da'an smiled pleased. "It may be that talking to me is enough of a stimulus for your brain to no longer feel the need to form ideas. Perhaps we should keep talking..." he let it sound like an offer.

"Perhaps," he agreed, but the fact was he didn't know what to talk about. His mind was blank at the moment, except perhaps for the thought that he'd like to get out of here as quickly as possible. He wasn't even focused on the Taelon orb lying on Da'an's knees. Of course he would have liked to retrieve it for the Resistance, but under the circumstances they were in... and with his injuries... the sensible thing to do was to keep his eye on where it was and try to retrieve it when they weren't trapped a hundred meters underground.

No, such rational thoughts were set aside in favor of the desire to get out and... Da'an.

An electric angel, ran through his mind. That was an exact match. She looked like a statue of a kneeling angel, for she was slender, her eyes shining, her face had that strange deep expression, and the flickering blue glow lent her a seeming halo. At this point, he was not surprised that there were those who considered the Taelons to be messengers of something higher, if not God. He didn't believe it himself, he knew where the truth lay, yet even he sometimes found it strange that a being like Da'an... intelligent, with knowledge beyond most humans and not only thinking, but perhaps existing on more levels than a human could... would willingly spend his time talking to him of all people. While he never considered himself stupid or inferior, he didn't kid himself that he didn't also have people around him who were much smarter than him. The CVI had helped him in many ways; it had sharpened his senses, improved his memory, raised his IQ, helped him understand things that hadn't come so easily to him before, but Augur, for example, was still much smarter than he was.

And Da'an...

"Why did you choose me to be the Protector?" He asked out of a sudden urge to know what Da'an saw in him.

Taelon blinked in surprise.

"You have proven yourself to be very capable."

That might have been true. After all, the attack on Da'an, which had only served as a cover for the faked death of Doors, had been the first attack against the Companions in America. But it wasn't the only one in the world. While there was never a shooting, or indeed the attack itself, because it was always foiled in the preparation phase, there were always people involved in the foiling. Either the Protectors or the public defense forces. The Taelons, after all, were non-violent and did not even make much effort to protect even their own lives.

And on top of all that...

"I wasn't the first non-Protector to help save a Taelon. Nor was I the first to refuse your offer to become a Protector," he said, emphasizing that he was referring specifically to the offer of Da'an, not Taelon as such. "But only my wife fell victim to Sandoval's efforts to accommodate you. He's a maniac, but not that big of one. He must have thought you really wanted me as your Protector. More than anyone else."

A shudder ran through Da'an's entire body, accompanied by a characteristic wave of blue light running across his skin, a somewhat unnatural movement of his head, and a closing of his eyes. Normally he would have looked Boone in the eye again after such a 'blush', but not this time.

This time he kept his gaze fixed on the ground, and the grip of his hands around Boone's weakened considerably. So he held on for several long moments before looking up again.

The expression on her face at that moment was a picture of regret, and one so clear that even Da'an would not have expected it. Taelons, though they had emotions, were not good at showing them in their faces or their voices. Da'an was different in that regard. She had learned to express the feeling or emotion she wanted to show on her face and in her voice.

"I'm afraid you're right, Commander," she admitted, letting go of his hands completely, whereupon his hands wandered to her lap. "I was probably overzealous in expressing my desire to have you as my Protector, and so I bear as much of an indirect part in your wife's death as Agent Sandoval. We are not the ones who ended her existence on this plane, but we are to blame."

He shook his head vigorously.

"I don't blame you or Sandoval," he said with complete truth.

As long as he thought Da'an was the one who had ordered Kate's execution, he not only blamed her, he even felt anger and perhaps even hatred. When he came to the conclusion that Da'an was not guilty and that Sandoval himself had planned everything, he briefly hated him. But only until he realized that even he could not be held fully responsible for his actions. The Motivational Imperative warped his judgment, much like a serious mental illness or a severe addiction, or perhaps even more so, for both could be fought, treated, but the Imperative was insurmountable.

He had given up his hatred and vengeance for a higher purpose within the ranks of the Resistance, and later... after he had come to know Da'an more and began to trust him, even feel more than that for him... he could no longer blame him for even this indirect involvement. Maybe a year ago, maybe two or three months ago, but not today.

"But I want to know, why me?"

Da'an blinked once before turning his gaze somewhere in the distance. He raised one hand to chest level as he did so, and his fingers began to slowly curl, a sign that he was thinking or remembering. It took several more of Boone's strained breaths before Taelon slowly turned to him again.

"I had no reason that I could put into words. Just a feeling... a connection between the two of us."

His breath hitched against the lump in his throat and his stomach did a somersault. He'd been thinking the exact same thing just a few minutes ago.

Nervously, he licked his dry lips, tasting ironily of blood and the dirt that had settled on them.

"I... feel the same way," he admitted, his voice noticeably quieter and admittedly, also uncertain. It wouldn't be the first time he'd confessed his interest in a woman, and he'd learned to handle rejection and breakups. At his age, he just wasn't a clumsy boy anymore, but this was so different. He didn't know what to expect.

And he wasn't at all sure what to make of Da'an's reaction.

The tension completely gone from his slight body, he closed his eyes as if in relief, bowing his head and resting his palm on his chest. This time, the moments that followed were literally agonizing. What was to come? Mockery no, because Da'an was incapable of that. An explanation that whatever she was feeling wasn't the same as what Taelon might be feeling, and then a lecture on how undeveloped the human mind was? Unlikely, but he hoped it wouldn't happen.

Da'an finally opened his eyes.

Without a word or even a blink, he leaned forward and placed his palm on Boone's chest. It was that familiar light touch, but it wasn't cold. No. It was warm, almost... almost like a human hand. To Taelon, it was like a glow.

Partly instinctively, he covered his hand with hers.

He was rewarded with one of those small, tender smiles he dared to believe were meant for him alone. At least he'd never seen her smile like that at anyone or anything else. She was so beautiful in that moment.

He leaned closer to her...

Pi pi pi pi!

The sharp sound of the Global made them both pull back. While Da'an handled it with a grace all his own and without much haste, Boone jerked backwards, surprised he didn't hit his head again. He cursed silently inwardly as he fumbled clumsily in his jacket pocket, not only at nearly hitting himself again and giving himself another concussion, but also at the unseemly interruption. It was ridiculous, he knew, after all, the call meant rescue, but it could have come five minutes later or sooner... any of which would have suited him better.

Opening it, he activated the Global, and of course Sandoval was waiting for him on the screen.

"Commander Boone, it's good to see you alive. How is Da'an?" He asked, and as expected, his interest in Taelon was obvious, while that of Boone was lackluster.

"I'm here and unharmed." He leaned closer so Da'an could show himself to Sandoval.

The relief on the agent's face was clearly evident.

"I am relieved that you are safe Da'an."

"I am fine, but Commander Boone has several injuries and his Skrill will need treatment as well. The sooner he gets proper medical attention the better."

"We're doing what we can, Da'an, but there's twelve meters of flooded tunnel between you and us that's too small to use heavy equipment. Without it, it will take us a while to reach you."

"I recommend we use the anti-gravity modules."

"With permission, I've already sent for them," Sandoval said, which sounded hopeful, since the antigravity modules were capable of 'reducing' the weight of objects by up to a tenth; a ton was suddenly not that much of a problem. "Of course, even with them, the job will take an estimated eight hours."

Without CVI, it would have been a promising number for him, but with him, it's exactly the opposite. In the blink of an eye he made an estimate of the size of the cave and then a quick calculation that didn't work out well for him.

"That's not good enough," Da'an said sternly, who must surely have come to the same result. "By my calculations, the air here will become unbreathable in less than six hours."

Sandoval gave Boone a brief look, then turned to Da'an again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Taelons don't need to breathe. Is that correct?" Sandoval asked, and it was clear where he was going.

"No, they don't need to," Da'an had to admit, but the reluctance to say so was quite obvious. 

"Then I don't see the problem," the agent said, but still looked at Boone and continued less pointedly, "We'll do everything we can to get to you as quickly as possible. But surely you understand that Da'an's life is my priority. I will not allow anything to be done that could cause another cave-in and put Da'an in danger."

He swallowed the comment that another cave-in would only kill him, probably not Da'an. He did it mostly because he didn't want to put his life in unnecessary danger either, but surely the irony was there anyway.

"Understood, Agent," he nodded gravely. "I'll hope you get here in time. Boone out." With a snap, he ended the call. "And thank you for nothing," he added into the void. 

"Your situation is very unfortunate and I see no solution," Da'an pointed out in an unusually quiet voice.

To describe his situation as unfortunate was a severe understatement. He was literally screwed, and unless some literally magical solution came up, like a tunnel just appearing out of nowhere... It must have been his CVI, because suddenly he seemed to be back in a strange subway station. He was standing in the middle of the platform again, looking around at all the meticulously crafted intarsia that must have taken an incredible amount of time and occupied many hands, considering they were literally everywhere. Absolutely, absolutely everywhere, all over the ceiling stretching to either side of the ladder opening they had come in through. The ladder that Da'an had to help climb down, because it was obvious at a glance that she had never done anything like this in her long life.

A ladder! Of course!

"It's time to get out of here," he decided firmly, and set about getting up.

"There's no way out," Da'an pointed out, but at the same time he willingly helped him to his feet.

"Just as there was no way in," he replied, carefully taking the torch in his injured hand and slowly stepping along the wall, feeling its rough, cold surface. He felt a questioning look in his back as he did so. He glanced over his shoulder, only to find that yes, Da'an stood motionless, illuminated by the second torch, his head tilted curiously to one side, his fingers moving gently in interest.

"Do you remember how we got here?" He asked.

"Of course," Da'an nodded. "We descended the ladder through the vault... oh! I understand now!" He realized what Boone was referring to. "Since the fake subway station had no entrance, it stands to reason that our assumption that the tunnel led from the station to here was wrong. In fact, it's the other way around. The tunnel led from this chamber to the station, so..."

"... there must be another tunnel leading here to get us out," he finished for him. 

"A reasonable assumption," Da'an agreed, picking up a second flashlight from the ground and following him. "But since we didn't see any tunnel when we came in here, isn't it likely that it's flooded as well?"

"It's possible," he conceded, because he was thinking about it too, but it didn't stop him from moving slowly forward, running his hand over the side in an attempt to find the tunnel even if it was hidden. "But I don't think it is. If there was a cave-in, we would have seen it, besides, surely whoever built this place wouldn't have caved in the tunnel on purpose. This cave was never very stable. He'd risk the whole thing collapsing. Far more likely the tunnel would just stop the rocks and we could break through."

"In that case; what should I look for?"

"Anything that doesn't look like continuous rock." 

Taelon didn't answer that again, just turned and started in the opposite direction, mimicking Boone as he did so. That way he could get around the entire cave faster, or at least the part that wasn't obstructed by the cave-in. Of course, the entrance to the next tunnel could have been just beyond the cave-in, but Boone hoped that it would be more likely to be on the other side or just somewhere else. It would have been more logical, but then again, with his bad luck today…

"I have something, Commander," Da'an spoke up, interrupting his gloomy thoughts.

He turned quickly.

Taelon was standing by a wall that looked like all the others and there was nothing unusual about it, even when Boone shone his light on it, so it was illuminated by two torches at once. That was strange, but he doubted Da'an was mistaken.

As quickly as his injuries, the lack of light, and the fallen rocks allowed, he reached Da'an. Even standing at his side, he could see nothing, at least nothing that looked like a tunnel. So he placed his palm next to Da'en's softly luminous hand and only then did he feel it. It was clearly a frayed edge, though it was impossible to see.

He transferred the torch to his good hand and aimed it at an angle along the wall.

Oh sure, an optical illusion.

The tunnel was indeed there, but it was narrow and carved at such an angle that a cursory inspection of the wall made it virtually impossible to see.

"Long live Jareth," he muttered to himself.

"I don't understand. Who or what is Jareth?" Da'an echoed.

"Oh... well... he's a character from my sister's favorite movie," he attempted an explanation that of course couldn't make anything clearer to Taelon, which was why he wasn't surprised by the curious gleam in his blue eyes. "Jareth is the king of a non-existent magical kingdom. He has a castle, and at the foot of it is a great labyrinth of bushes through which the heroine must pass. At first glance, it looks like there is only one way in the labyrinth, until one looks at the walls at the right angle and so discovers other passageways. An optical illusion."

"Interesting."

That was undoubtedly one of the words that could be used... unless you'd seen the Labyrinth thirty times, as Boone had been forced to do.

"I'll go first."

He stuck his hand into the tunnel a little to illuminate it, and had to find, grumpily, that as far as he could see it was as narrow as the entrance just beyond. Normally he'd be uncomfortably cramped in it while stretching, with his injured arm it would be better to go sideways.

He stepped inside when Da'an stopped him:

"Wait," he said, touching Boone's shoulder lightly, drawing his attention. "You should take this." He held up the Taelon orb they'd found in the vault.

"But... aren't you and the Synod interested in the knowledge Ma'el has stored in it?"

"I do not believe the Synod needs to know of the existence of this recording device at all," Da'an replied, holding up the orb again. "Ma'el entrusted it to the care of his followers, and Jonathan Frakes saw the two of us in his vision. If anywhere the device will be safe, it is with you."

"Without Taelon technology, I have no way to read it, and if I plug it into the embassy, someone could find out."

His protests, which were only partially genuine, brought a small, amused smile to Da'an's face.

"I'm sure you can handle it."

He couldn't help but nod in response, taking the orb from Da'an and shoving it into his jacket pocket. Then he turned again to the mouth of the tunnel and strode towards the darkness that awaited them there.

°°O°°

As they advanced, the tunnel began to widen again. Eventually it was wide enough that they could walk side by side, which was convenient... well, if Da'an was human. For one of their torches had failed and the other was barely holding on, the light weak and occasionally flickering.

If the second one had also failed, all they would have been left with was Da'an's faint glow, which was certainly not strong enough to provide Boone with enough light. And then there was only the certainty that the tunnel floor was fairly passable; no large rocks or depressions.

However, neither the workable path nor the one fortunately still alive flashlight gave Boone much joy.

The tunnel stretched on literally forever, and although it climbed upwards gently, so perhaps it had an exit somewhere above ground, the climb was not fast enough. They had been walking in the heavy, hard to breathe air for nearly two hours now - it was a good thing he had his own mechanical watch, because the Global had lost signal again and almost stopped working without constant contact with one of the Taelon computer nodes.

One could only hope that the exit was near. It had to be.

He sensed that something was wrong before he realized that Da'an was not at his side.

He turned quickly.

Da'an was a good four steps behind him. He was leaning sideways against the wall, head bowed and knees sagging. It looked like he was just a short distance from slumping to the ground. Even his blue aura was faint, flickering. To say the least, he didn't look good at all.

Within moments, he was at his side, helping him straighten up. The eyes that looked up to him were still blue, but they were no longer a phosphorescent glow, nor was the handsome face brimming with energy. In the torchlight, it seemed... transparent, and pulsing trails of energy could be seen through that transparent skin.

Worry twisted Boone's insides.

He didn't look well at all. If he could compare it to anything, it was a man who had lost a lot of blood. He didn't know why that was, he just had that impression. Except that it was impossible because the Taelons didn't have any blood. So perhaps something underground was affecting him.

"Da'an... what's wrong?"

"It's okay," she refused his help, as well as pushing away the hand he used to support her.

"It isn't. I can see that something is wrong with you."

"I'll be fine... when we get out of here," she assured him, much less dismissively than before, even adding a small smile that surely should have been comforting, only it wasn't.

"Is there something underground here that's doing you harm? Radiation? Electromagnetism? Something?" he questioned further. Maybe something could be done to at least make Da'an feel better. He worried that if her condition got too bad, he would have to carry her. She didn't weigh more than two pounds, so that wouldn't be a problem, but he needed two arms to carry her decently more than a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

"It's more like the absence of something," she replied a little evasively as he continued to watch her intently, letting him know she wasn't going to be satisfied with that answer, she continued with a sigh: "We are made of energy, and we need energy to survive. The energy showers we rest under have an optimal mix of different types of radiation, but we can also receive many other types, including the full spectrum of your sun, your electricity, even your radiation. Here... there's almost nothing. Just a small amount of radiation."

"Do you need to... recharge?" He chose the last word carefully, which brought a soft but amused smile to Da'an's face.

"Yes, you could say that," she agreed with a nod. "I have used up too much of my supplies in the last four hours. First I had to repair the damage done to my cache by the cave-in, and then I had to get the vault out from under the rocks," he paused. "I had no idea the lack of power would hit me so soon."

"We have a flashlight," he suggested, holding it up in front of Da'an. He suspected it wouldn't be enough, but that was all they had here.

She shook her head.

"You need light to travel safely. Besides, the battery contains only a negligible amount of power."

"The only other source of power is my Skrill." The idea of letting Da'an recharge from the Condor wasn't a comforting one, and Skrill didn't like it either, but if he had to choose between the Condor and Da'an, there was nothing to consider.

"It can't. Skrill is connected to your own life energy. I might inadvertently touch that as well. Parasitizing the energy of another intelligent being is the worst crime among the Taelon."

The solution offered itself, and for Boone there was nothing to hesitate over.

"And if I let you?"

"No!" Da'an exclaimed with unusual emotion, his eyes suddenly wide and even going so far as to retreat more to the wall, as if he were afraid of even being touched. But it didn't take long for him to calm down again, and he continued in a noticeably more even tone, "I do not wish for sharing just between the two of us to be forced by circumstance. I can handle it to the surface... though I would appreciate a little help." With those words, he touched Boone's shoulder.

"Okay, but the offer is still there," he didn't let himself stress. "Here, grab a flashlight and shine it on my way." 

He handed Da'an the flashlight so he could wind his good arm around his back. There was nothing difficult about it, since, even with his full weight against it, it was like holding a child in his arms. Less than that. It was like holding a statue made of blown glass.

Thanks to the CVI, he could recall in vivid detail the only other occasion when Da'an had led like this. On the one hand, it seemed a long time ago, since it had been over six months, but on the other, his memories were so clear and detailed that it might as well have been hours ago. He remembered not only every step out of his cell, every cool touch of his hands seeking support, and the way his hip brushed against his thigh... he remembered mostly the feelings he had at that moment. 

The fear for Da'an and the determination to get him to safety at any cost. But there was still that extra something that was now pressing uncomfortably against his throat. That would come in time. It grew, drop by drop, and lately it had just been strong enough that he couldn't ignore it anymore.

He glanced at Da'an out of the corner of his eye.

Because he was so much taller than Taelon, the top of his head was at chin level. So close that all he had to do was turn his head a little and he could press a kiss to that smooth, pearl-blue colored skin, with the neatly arranged white streams of energy underneath. They pulsed in a regular rhythm, but they were not as pronounced as Da'an's occasional flush of blue. It was obvious they had lost much of their power.

It made him want to kiss them even more. He had to control himself from doing it, but he couldn't help thinking about it. And he certainly couldn't not think about the fact that Da'an's energy was slowly draining away and yet he refused his help because... how exactly did he put it? I don't wish sharing just between the two of us to be forced by circumstances. That's literally what he said. It wasn't the first time Da'an had offered. Thoughts of what would happen if he accepted there on the terrace had haunted him for a month, until today. Even now.

"Attention, Commander," Da'an interrupted his train of thought.

He tore his gaze away and found that Taelon had warned him of the root hanging from the ceiling of the tunnel just enough to hit his head on it if he didn't stop.

"A root," he commented, dodging it.

"That should mean the surface is close," Da'an pointed out.

Jen nodded in agreement. 

The roots could go very deep, especially in the city they could be covered in debris, dirt, and even buildings could be built over them. But the truth was that it was more hopeful than wandering through rock. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to focus on something other than his thoughts on sharing with Da'an... whatever that meant.

He began to watch the walls.

With every two meters he walked, the number of roots sticking out of the walls multiplied. This was no longer a coincidence, it was a pattern. They were finally nearing the surface. He was sure of it, and he even had an inkling of where they might emerge. There was only one place in New York City where one could find a secluded corner to dig and still find dense foliage: Central Park. It was also a logical place to go east because, even in the 1930s, it was a fixed point in the city in size and location that was not expected to be swallowed up by development in the decades to come.

Air for him and sunshine for Da'an was at hand.

He fell into step, hoping to get out as soon as possible, and Da'an, driven probably by the same desire, matched his pace. But then came the icy shower as the torchlight hit the blind end of the tunnel.

They both stopped.

"The journey ends here," Da'an commented the obvious.

"Damn!" He cursed angrily. "We should have seen this coming. Shit! If the tunnel hadn't been filled in, someone would have found it by now."

He was angry with himself, but he needed to take it out on something, and since he didn't want it to inadvertently be Da'an, he preferred to let it go, taking that last step toward the dirt wall and digging his hand into it.

"A reasonable assumption. But what now?" A voice echoed behind him. "It's doubtful we'll both survive the trip back in good health, and even if we do, the air accumulated in this tunnel won't keep you alive until rescue."

He had nothing to say to that. Da'an was right, of course. The air in the tunnel was even thinner than that in the cave, and since there was no flow, he would soon suffocate anyway from the build-up of his own carbon dioxide. And being in motion all the time was out of the question. It still took a lot of strength to get him here. Too much. So he wasn't going to give up, especially when there was no other way but forward.

He'd missed the cave-in. The dirt was stiff and dense, but it wasn't dry, and a number of roots let him know they couldn't be more than a meter, maybe a meter and a half, from the surface. 

"Let's dig our way out. We just need to get the right angle," he decided, and immediately began digging with his good hand.

Without a word of disbelief, Da'an appeared at his side and began digging with him. Her thin fingers were better for breaking up the hardened dirt, for they were like a four-pronged rake. Boone had only one good hand, but it was the size of a small shovel, which he used to shove the dug-up dirt aside. It was slow going, though, and with all the exertion and the thin air, his breath was fast becoming short and his strength waning.

Da'an was indefatigable, however, at least to the extent that he managed to dig until he came upon a goose tangle of roots which, when he tried to tear up, he utterly failed. He was going to try again, recharging his inner reserves of energy, much like he had when he'd pried open the vault door.

"Wait," Boone stopped him, not wanting him to lose any more energy. "I'll try."

Da'an slid down the earthen mound to make room for him.

It was difficult to squeeze into the tunnel the slender Taelon had left behind and, more importantly, he had to, willingly or not, lean on his injured arm, which sent a shudder of excruciating pain up his shoulder that only served to remind him of the condition his arm was in.

He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up you know. Then he grabbed a tangle of roots and yanked. Once, twice, and a third time he put all his strength into it. In a single crunch of flesh, the dirt held by the roots loosened and began to spill around him. He managed to close his eyes just in time to keep the full load from ending up in them, but the dirt still got up his nose, into his mouth and throat, as well as into his ears, digging into his collar. It was uncomfortable because it was cold and wet, but along with it came... air!

A fresh breeze that smelled of autumn.

And the daylight that fed it to his dust-filled eyes, which had grown accustomed to the tunnel's gloom over the past few hours. But it was damn fine light! As was the fresh air, which he swallowed at the top of his lungs, even as the dirt and dust and sand and pebbles continued to rush past him and down his throat.

"We're outside!" He shouted more or less downwards. "Are you all right?" He added when he didn't get the enthusiastic response he was expecting, and turned over his shoulder to check on Da'an. 

Thankfully, Taelon was fine, just dirty from the dirt that had caved in on him, and the only reason he didn't answer was because he was standing in the thin beam of sunlight that had broken through the opening and was greedily setting his face.

"I am," Boone was finally answered, and with it the look of phosphorescent eyes.

It took so little, just a few tiny rays... 

He had to get Da'an out as soon as possible.

He caught his fingers on the edge of the hole and then used his other, broken arm, and much of the rest of his strength to pull himself to the surface. He found himself on the grass at the base of a group of some bushes. There were no markers anywhere in sight, not even a path. Let alone people. It was a remote corner. Thank goodness for that, because they would have had a hard time explaining why the North American Companion and his Protector, all dirty and bruised, were digging themselves out of the hole. The newspapers would get a kick out of it, and Da'an wouldn't like that, he thought with a grin as he turned to look through the opening.

"Give me a hand." He reached down.

Da'an took the offered hand.

Then it was easy. He needed almost no force to pull him out, especially when Da'an himself actively grabbed the edge of the pit and swung himself up. Still, fatigue made Boone unable to do more than pull himself up into a sitting position, while Da'an...

He remained kneeling at the foot of the pit. A slender body set to the rays of the sinking sun, arching backwards in a way and at an angle that just couldn't be human, but was graceful and elegant nonetheless. His arms were outstretched, palms facing upwards towards the sky, and his fingers, so uncharacteristically for him, were completely still, spreading apart like a fan. His head was thrown back, setting his face to the sun with his eyes closed. His face... God, his face was the embodiment of a palpable pleasure Boone hadn't imagined in him until now, but now he doubted he'd ever forget it. Not because he had CVI, but because it was the most amazing and exciting thing he'd ever seen.

It was so amazing.

Here and now... even covered in dust... she was beautiful. The golden and white rays of the sun didn't just reflect off her pearly skin. Oh no. They soaked right into her body, and the glow that surrounded her flowed straight from within her. It ran under her skin, flowing through energy pathways that took on the color of sunlight for a moment, but then slowly... as the glow faded, it took on a familiar purple and blue hue. Until they disappeared completely beneath her fair skin.

Only then, did he let his arms drop, and it was with a sigh of pleasure that rippled through her body with another brief blueing. She tilted her head from one side of the ox, then the other, stretching her fingers and arms, whereupon she slowly turned to face him.

Though her face was still gray with dust and dirt,, a soft smile graced her face, and her blue glowing eyes asked the unspoken question if she was alright. Even if his other arm was broken, looking at her, he wouldn't care at the moment. She was so...

"You're so beautiful," he said before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

Three words he shouldn't have spoken and perhaps he could blame them on fatigue, a long lack of oxygen, and the shock of his injury. But what would have been rude to make such a lame excuse was what he did the very next moment.

He gently placed his hand on Da'an's cheek, lighting up the surprise and confusion in her eyes, and then leaned in for a small kiss. Just a touch of lips that could have become something more if Da'an had responded. Only he didn't move. He remained completely still under Boone's touch, lips pressed together.

In a single, ice-cold moment that froze his insides, it dawned on him what a mistake he had made. He'd crossed a line in a way that couldn't be undone.

He pulled back sharply, ready to face indignation, anger, or just rejection from Da'an, but all that awaited him was a look of deep confusion that said one thing; whatever the fusion between the Taelons meant, there was nothing physical about it, for only one who did not understand the physical world could be so palpably confused by a kiss.

Damn it, what have I done?!

The hum of the lander was a welcome relief.

°°O°°

He leaned back with a sigh.

He'd just ended a call with Augur, who had angrily informed him that no, they hadn't managed to retrieve the contents of Ma'el's recording sphere yet, and that if he wanted it faster, he could go try it himself. And just a few minutes earlier, he'd had a conversation with Dr. Brown - the new head of Skrill development - about Condor and his medical condition.

While they had used the Taelon regenerator on his wrist after the bone comparison, which had reduced the healing time from five weeks to one, it had had almost no effect on Condor and his broken tail. Therefore, it was decided that he would wear a cast of Taelon material for just five weeks and if Condor had not healed on his own by then, he would need to be replaced. Boone only agreed to this because he knew that his Skrill was still in pain... he could feel it in the back of his mind... and if it did not subside, the only correct, albeit difficult, decision was to help him from his suffering by putting him to sleep.

He washed his face.

He just hadn't had a good week, and worst of all, he hadn't had a chance to talk to Da'an since the unfortunate kiss. He hadn't even seen him. By the time they finally got back to the embassy, the ambulance took him in and despite his protests that he wasn't so bad that he couldn't sit up, they strapped him to a bed and didn't let him out of it for defacto two days. Most of those two days were spent in the hands of Dr. Belman, who subjected him and especially his CVI to complete testing until she could say for sure that if it was ever damaged, it had restored itself. And most importantly, that his Motivational Imperative was still just as dysfunctional.

During that time, his only contact with Da'an was through Sandoval's mouth, which conveyed his hope for a speedy recovery. 

That was wrong. That was too damn bad.

Not only had he risked the friendship and mutual trust they had built up between them over the past year by his stupidity, he had probably also lost the privileged position of his personal Protector, and thus access to information useful to the Resistance. He had screwed it all up royally. Just good work.

"May I come in, Commander Boone?" Da'an's voice echoed behind him, literally lifting him out of his chair.

Taelon stood exactly an inch beyond the open glass door of Boone's office, as if held in the corridor by an invisible force field. He had one arm along his body and the other raised to chest level. Its fingers gracefully worked their way through the air, showing a certain alertness and curiosity, but also, something that could be called need. The usual ripples were there when Da'an clamored for some information and it was not provided quickly enough.

So he was impatient to enter, perhaps even impatient to find out how Boone was doing, but he didn't look angry by any means. He recognized an angry Da'an as well. The features of his face stiffened like a cast of marble at such a moment, and his every movement became jerky, almost mechanical, as if he was having trouble containing all the energy. Probably it really was.

So he knew with certainty that an angry Da'an was not standing before him.

"Yes. Of course," he agreed, beckoning with his hand. "After all, this office... the entire building, in fact... was donated to the Taelons. It actually belongs to you."

Da'an blinked slowly.

"Technically, yes," he agreed, crossing the invisible boundary between the corridor and the office in one long step. "But surely you can imagine that beings who are still in a mental link greatly value consent to enter both another's mind and... their private space," he continued as he glided towards Boone without making a sound, as only the Taelons could. "I've come to inquire about your health," he finished, looking down at Boone's arm in the cast.

He followed his gaze and raised his right hand to look at it himself. He hadn't really studied the Taelon splint much, he had other, more important things on his mind, and since it was light as a plate at best, he forgot about it very easily. Now that he was looking at it, he was fully aware that it was a deep green-blue color, and it stretched down part of his forearm and around Skrill like a web of thin tendrils. It was probably made of the same or similar material as the Taelon buildings. After all, they had let it grow on his arm.

"My bones will need another week to set, but the cast will last longer. Taelon regenerators don't work as well on Condor as they do on humans. It will take some time for his tail to heal," he replied, thinking positively, not even mentioning the possibility that Skrill might not heal at all.

"I am very pleased to hear that," Da'an replied in a soft tone that betrayed genuine pleasure, a small smile playing on his lips as he shook his head in satisfaction.

"How about you?"

"A few hours in the energy shower has fully restored my strength."

"That's good to hear," he replied somewhat awkwardly, though he was really glad to see Da'an was well again. For he didn't know how else to show how glad he was that Da'an had come to him and was treating him as if the unfortunate incident had never happened. He honestly would have liked it to stay that way, but he knew it was a childish wish. Things like this were always left hanging like a giant flypaper between people, with more and more little incidents piling on top of it, and finally ending in a big explosion.

"I think we should, as you people say, have a serious talk," Da'an broke the silence between them. As always, it seemed as if he was reading Boone's mind.

"Yes, we should," he agreed with a sigh, on the one hand glad that Da'an had put an end to their mutual pretence that everything was as it had been. And on the other hand, fearful of what was to follow. "I should apologize for what I said and did. It was inappropriate and... stupid of me. I could blame it on the concussion, but I don't want to make excuses. It was unprofessional of me to do such a thing and I assure you it will not happen again. And all I can add is that I hope you haven't lost faith in me."

He blurted out everything he wanted and expected to say. Mostly he even spoke the truth, except perhaps for his regret at having done it. Yes, he regretted being so stupid, but he didn't regret the kiss itself. Even if it wasn't reciprocated, it was firmly etched in his memory regardless of the CVI. He would remember it anyway, because it made him feel so special... satisfied and satiated, like when he'd kissed Kate. Angry and stupid, too, but still... still that strange cool texture of Da'an's lips, smooth as the surface of stone, yet soft... remained something he would keep in his mind and heart, as something beautiful and precious.

Da'an blinked a few times in response to his words and then tilted his head to the side, a look of confusion on his face.

"I seem to have misunderstood something fundamental of human culture and customs," he uttered something that seemed to have nothing to do with Boone's apology, causing him to frown in confusion. "I thought calling someone beautiful was a compliment. And a kiss, that constitutes a physical form of affection. To my knowledge, neither is grounds for an apology. Am I wrong?" 

"You're not wrong in that both are... usually something positive, but not when it's part of an unwelcome interest," he explained as rationally as he could, even as a chill crept up his back. He was prepared for Da'an to not accept his apology and assign him to some insignificant research facility where he would have no access to either the Taelons or their plans. He was also preparing himself for the possibility that she would accept his apology and everything would return to normal, and he would only stifle the disturbing emotions more thoroughly. But he hadn't expected Da'an to be so terribly misunderstanding of the situation. In retrospect, though, it made sense. After all, he was almost as confused about the kiss as a small child. What else to expect but incomprehension?

Da'an squinted his eyes, his head slowly tilting to the other side, and raised his hand towards him, his fingers running through his aura.

"And who said your interest was unwelcome?" Boone shocked with his question, uttered with that small hint of a smile in his voice and a glint in his eyes that was decidedly mischievous.

At that moment he was at a loss for words.

The only option he hadn't prepared for, or blamed himself for not preparing for, was if Da'an reciprocated his interest. That simply wasn't an option, and yet here she stood before him, suggesting... no, he was reluctant to believe it.

"On the contrary, it is my understanding," Da'an spoke again, for Boone had been silent for too long, taking a slow step towards the window as he continued speaking, "that I have made it clear several times in recent weeks that I reciprocate your desire to share." He turned his gaze to him. 

This was making a lot more sense now. They were running into a cultural difference based on their biological differences. Unfortunately, it was up to him to explain, even if it was a task he didn't like.

"Look Da'an," he began, his voice thick with the way he forced the words through his constricted throat; he really didn't want to talk about it. "I don't know exactly what the Taelons mean by sharing, but I'm afraid it's not what one would imagine. I also think..." he took a long breath and let it out, "that you, again, don't understand exactly what humans mean by... sharing."

"I agree with you on that," Da'an said without hesitation, adding a serious nod as well. "There are many differences between humans and Taelons that we must explain to each other and try to understand. I do not see it as a hindrance, on the contrary I see it as an enrichment of myself. Please... I am ready and willing to learn what people mean by 'sharing'."

His words were soaring, but they also sounded like a clinical description. Added to all the unpleasant emotions was irritation at the disrespectful way Taelon approached human relationships. But he was Da'an. He, unlike Zo'or, did not despise seemingly primitive human things, and when he expressed himself disrespectfully, it was not out of malice.

So he vented his nascent anger with just another sigh and a pardoning face.

"It doesn't work that way, Da'an," he uttered urgently. "We're talking about human relationships here... and feelings. The Taelons may consider them primitive, but to us they are important and we consider them something very complex... something to be cherished and built... not just some... experiment." 

"I am not completely ignorant of human relationships, so I know they are often taken lightly," Da'an argued.

This time, the anger stemming from the irritation, as well as two days of frustration, had found its way out, hardening Boone's features.

"If you think human relationships mean so little, go see one of the other Implants. Their Motivational Imperative won't allow them to reject you," he uttered, his voice hard and icy cold. The idea of something like that disgusted him, but he said it out loud, because if all Taelons had such a low opinion of the importance of interpersonal relationships, then it wasn't impossible that one of them would try something like that.

The tone he used had the desired effect. Da'an recoiled a little under his words, but this retreat did not last long. He quickly regained his lost composure and slowly moved so close to Boone that he had to duck his head so they could look into each other's eyes. He was even close enough that he could feel the vibrations of energy seeping through his thin material shell. 

"I'm afraid you're right," he said gently. "The Motivational Imperative drives the Implants to cater to the wants and needs of any of the Taelons. If that wish was the sharing of mind and energy, and the need was the desire to know... the physical aspects of sharing and being, then none could refuse. But I can assure you," he held up a finger in emphasis, "that no such orders have ever been given by any of us. For no Taelon has ever felt the desire to connect mentally... and physically with a human. Until now," he added, one corner of his lips lifted with a smile, and placed his palm on Boon's chest as he had done in the tunnel.

And just like then, this time he felt an almost human warmth emanating from it instead of cold, and it slowly began to spread over his skin and seep between his ribs and into his anger-clenched insides. There, the warmth spread out, slowly extinguishing his anger, only to give opportunity for emotions like his deep concern for Da'an, his longing for her, to break through to the surface. That and the confusing need for him to trap her in his arms, to kiss her until she lost her breath, regardless of the fact that he wasn't even breathing. The lust where he longed to pin her to the bed with his body, to feel her cool hands on his naked skin and... and that's where his fantasies began to crumble, filled with fear of the unknown.

At the very moment he became aware of this fear, Da'an's eyes opened wide in surprise.

Then, as if burned, he jerked his hand violently and took a quick long step backwards. Suddenly his electrifying aura, like the heat, was gone, leaving Boone confused.

"I must apologize now, Commander. I misinterpreted your behavior. Have a good evening," he said politely, turning on his heel.

Boone blinked in confusion at the sudden formality. One moment she was offering him a confession and the next... Reflexive felt for Da'an's forearm, pulled it back and turned him to face her. Blue eyes looked up at him in a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Wait... What happened?" He asked, stupidly he knew, but what else was he supposed to say? He could hardly admit that only moments ago he had been one step away from hugging and kissing her. After all, it had been an indiscreet kiss that had started all this.

"I can feel your fear. Fear of me. One I never wished to evoke in you," Da'an answered him with the matter-of-factness and openness of all Taelons.

He realized she was shaking her head vigorously.

"I have no fear... I mean I do... but not of you," he refuted her assumption firmly, because it was true; he had never feared Da'an. "I do have it from... what I'm beginning to feel for you. It confuses me... I..." his words sounded lost. It was hard to find a new one, so he preferred to grasp her below the elbow with his right hand - the most dexterous due to the wound and the cast, but fortunately still strong enough to keep her from leaving - and take her face in the other.

"As far back as I can remember, I have only been attracted to women. Then you came into my life and... you're so beautiful... and amazing. But..." his voice wavered again, but this time, this time he had to finish, "but you're a Taelon and I don't know if that could work..."

By this point, the panicked look on her face had vanished like a wave of a wand, replaced by an indulgent smile. In a very human gesture, Da'an hooked her slender fingers into his hand and removed it from her face, not to reject him, but merely to clasp his hand.

"This is all new and unfamiliar to me as well, and I admit I have my fears, but as I said, I firmly believe our minds and natures are compatible. It is enough if you allow me to show you," she added, moving her hand so that their palms touched.

He shook his head in despair.

"I can't imagine what such a connection would entail, because... humans are physical beings. And I'm... a man," he added more weakly, the moment he let go of her forearm and broke all physical contact with her, even taking half a step away from her. "That's my problem."

Da'an blinked again several times.

"Your concern about our compatibility stems only from my lack of feminine physical attributes?" Da'an asked with a hint of confusion in his voice, to which he could only nod in agreement. "That's a problem I can easily solve!" He added with the obvious enthusiasm he had observed in the man when he had found a solution to the long drawn out diplomatic dispute. 

But this solution made no sense to Boone.

"What do you mean?"

"Taelon's physical shell is held together by sheer force of his will, and in theory he can change it at will as long as the optimal mass-to-energy ratio is maintained. I can easily provide you with what you desire, William."

Before he could respond, or even process the idea that Taelons could take any shape, Da'an closed his eyes and his skin glowed blue. It wasn't the same as when he had shown a hint of his true form in moments of mental strain, it was far more like the lingering glow he used to illuminate the darkness of the tunnel, only more intense. So intense that it seemed to blur his shape... no! It wasn't the light, his form was really starting to slowly change. His otherwise narrow hips took on a rounder shape, his facial features became even softer, and his jumpsuit rose at the hint of a chest.

He was literally changing before Boone's eyes into a form that was definitely closer to femininity than the one he was used to. The one he had come to love as a shell for Da'an's unaltered intellect, his inquisitive mind, his kindness for all things defenseless, his dry sense of humor...

He suddenly knew that despite his insecurities, he didn't want this.

"Enough!" He raised his voice in emphasis and grabbed Da'an by the shoulders again.

This managed to break his concentration, causing the light to fade, and with it all the half-assed changes he had managed to make to himself to disappear. Thank goodness for that. He didn't like the new form, which was not only not female, it was more importantly not Da'an, and that, he had just realized, was far more important than the most beautiful breasts in the world.

While the realization added to his confidence, it only put Da'an into further confusion.

"Not this. I don't want you to change the way you look just for me. Then you wouldn't be you anymore."

"I assure you that I would still remain myself, regardless of the form of my physical shell," Da'an said with that indulgent smile again. "It serves to be inhabited by our energy so that we can control our technology. Its appearance is of little importance to us."

"And yet I don't want you to change her just for me," he stated firmly. "I wouldn't want it even if you were human. If I'm attracted to any woman, it's because everything positive... and beautiful... physical and mental... outweighs her flaws - real or perceived. I would never want you to want to remove your flaws just to make me like her more. Then she wouldn't be herself anymore. She wouldn't be the one I fell in love with."

"But then... if the biggest obstacle to our merging is my appearance, and you still refuse my offer to change it, then there's still a problem." He crossed his arms in a clueless gesture. "And I have no other solution. Perhaps you should tell me what you want, William?" She raised a questioning gaze to him, the epitome of patience and willingness he doubted he'd get from anyone else; woman or man.

"I don't know what I want... not when it comes to the future," he admitted, completely clueless on this one and not used to it. In his life he had always been able to set goals, go for them and achieve what he set out to do. And it wasn't just about work, but often about his private life as well. For example, when he looked at Kate one pleasant evening together, he just knew that he wanted to marry her and start a family, and from that moment on he did everything he could to make her his wife.

But now he was confused. As far as Da'an was concerned he had no plan for the future, he had only one thought and desire, but that was only a matter of minutes away. He had no choice but to go with her.

"But I know what I want right now," he said, taking her face in his hands again. "I'd like to kiss you, if you'll let me."

Da'an closed her eyes for a few moments and nodded only slightly before opening them again.

"If you're just waiting for my permission, you have it."

He couldn't help an amused chuckle at the lofty phrasing. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a simple little kiss, as he had last. It was intoxicating to feel the strangely cool and smooth texture again, but also partially unsatisfying, because even this time Da'an did no more than bear his touch without moving. No hint that she wanted to... or perhaps knew how to return the kiss.

He pulled away.

"Something tells me Taelons don't kiss," he pointed out with a hint of humor in his voice, mostly to get rid of his own discomfort at the fact that she hadn't responded in any way.

"And you're not wrong, William," she replied, holding up her hand in invitation to what she hoped was the Taelon version of kisses, "but I'm more than willing to learn."

He looked down at the offered palm, and as he had the first and second time, he felt uncertainty at the sight of what was being offered. But this time curiosity, and perhaps the long bubbling desire within him to connect with Da'an, took over. Human and perhaps even Taelonian. He let that guide him as he raised his hand and linked their palms.

The warmth so familiar and welcome ran through every artery and every nerve of his hand. It soared upward. It grew stronger, carrying with it a tingle that vibrated every cell of his body. It was unfamiliar. Amazing. And just when he thought it couldn't get any better, his mind became a galaxy of indescribable beauty in a single Big Bang. Even in the strangest of dreams... the dreams you remembered in the morning but couldn't describe... he couldn't imagine what was happening behind his eyelids, which he didn't even know when he closed. It was like gliding through a universe full of colors and stars. Darkness and light. Overlapping worlds, images and something that had no name in human language.

It was everything that made Da'an what he was and much, much more.

He opened his eyes in a daze.

He could still see it all, but he could also see the real world and Da'an, illuminated by an inner light and with an expression on his face that could only be compared to deep satisfaction. It was such a beauty that there was only one thing he could do.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her into his arms and kissed her again, and they were connected on both a mental and physical level.

Just him and Da'an in this unique moment.

END