― Richard B. Spence
Solar Storm
I went in search of answers and found questions. Was I the wiser for tracking down Tom Faraday and surrendering half my expanse account only to be left with more questions?
I consoled myself with the knowledge I was headed in the right direction. As I left, I inveigled a promise from Tom to be available in case I needed him but wasn't sure if he was sincere or just after the rest of my Visa balance.
And I had no idea how to verify Tom's account of a secret cabal withholding the results of Otto Baumann's research on solar flares. If it were true the there had to be something big coming that would take advantage of the disruption but I hadn't a clue what that could be.
As I drove home, policemen were directing traffic at major intersections which meant the power was off again. I began to feel my anxiety rising as I contemplated what nine months of this might bring.
When I got inside my door I saw a voicemail had been left on my landline—it was from Angelica Sara asking if we could meet.
I phoned back and invited her over for dinner figuring baked potatoes and steak on the BBQ was a safe bet considering the power outage.
I spent the rest of the afternoon rounding up emergency equipment—battery operated lanterns, an emergency radio and an inverter which could use my car's motor to supply DC power to the freezer and fridge.
Rain was threatening, so I put on the BBQ and started baking the potatoes, and of course, a pot of water so we could have coffee. I was beginning to get inventive and figure out work-arounds to make the best of our primitive conditions.
An hour later Angelica showed up just as the steaks were ready and the baked potatoes resting on the kitchen counter.
"I brought wine,"she announced, Paul Bouchard Medoc—See? I remembered."
"I'm impressed," I smiled ruefully, inwardly bemoaning my youthful bad taste in wine, but she redeemed the moment by adding, "and I also brought Yellow Tail Cab Sav—my favourite. Which should we open first?"
"We'll go with your choice," I laughed, "My juvenile views on wine should not be allowed to spoil our dinner—but I am impressed you remembered."
She stared at me, eyes huge and dark, "It's not so much I remembered—more the case, I never forgot."
The room went silent but her words like carillons echoed through me, making the most beautiful music within me.
"We should eat," she laughed, breaking the spell that entranced me.
"I only hope my cooking does justice to your wine."
"Our being together is a feast."
She was incredible—beautiful and gracious, with always the right words to say.
It was a happy complication—having two lovely women to choose between and for the moment I was content to simply vacillate and enjoy both of them.
Whether the Fate that hung suspended above our lives would allow that I had no way of knowing.
But I could sense the Beast that tormented my sleep growing impatient—I could hear him bristling in the gloom, gnashing outside my windows.