A full crew was left on the ship, though several people headed back down to the planet. If Betsy were to guess, Earth was in more danger than the Ziner.
Thorn had demanded Viera be taken to her house to recover after her collapse. Though Betsy had thought she’d heard some whisper of her friend’s turmoil in her mind before the collapse, Flower Prancer had heard more of it. Their closer working and similar magic types had created a bond that Viera probably wouldn’t be happy to know existed.
Viera’s outburst before she threw up a hand and poured every bit of magic she had out into the vast emptiness of space was enough to let Betsy piece together that she’d seen the explosion in a premonition before it had happened. A baby in the world of magic, even a seasoned warrior would have a hard time affecting that much volume of ship, space, and time. Viera was lucky to have survived the attempt.
Betsy wanted to arrange a meeting with Juk, their wayward youngling of a government official out in New York, to discuss the krottel ship just a bit further out and hiding behind the moon. She hoped that this time the powers-that-be would listen, but she wasn’t holding her breath. As she parked in front of Thorn’s house and headed up to the front door, she also yearned for her friend to be okay. Not only did she want Viera to be awake, she wanted her friend to be feeling better. The chanzii had a higher appreciation for life than the people of Earth, or so it seemed, so she knew Viera had been in good hands. Viera and Juniper had been friends. Betsy wanted Viera to head into this meeting with her, but she wouldn’t push.
The door opened quickly after she knocked. Scout gazed up, his green eyes bright. “Hi, Ms. Doeth. How are Buttercup and Westley?”
He stepped back, letting Betsy enter. “They are doing well, though Wes … Westley, is a scamp. He’s always getting into trouble.”
Scout snickered. “Mom was rather happy when she heard it was those two you were taking.”
From the back of the house, Thorn’s voice echoed, “What was that?”
Scout ran halfway down the hall and yelled, “Nothing, Mom! We’re talking about the ven.”
Thorn’s sigh was loud enough the neighbors could probably hear it. “Send Betsy to my room, dear.”
Scout led the way, though Betsy knew the layout of the house well enough. In Thorn’s room, Viera lay in the bed, eyes shut. Betsy placed a hand on her forehead. She felt fine. “Has she woken up since she passed out yesterday?”
“No. She’s just slept the whole time. Should we get a doctor?” Thorn pulled a chair up and sat, clasping Viera’s hand in hers. She gnawed on her lower lip, obviously worried.
Betsy sat on the side of the bed. She hadn’t done much healing or magical mojo, but she’d studied the theory with her father and some of the other Pillars. Viera was drained, and probably depressed. “Can you get a cup of coffee and something she can eat? If I can wake her up, she’s going to need both.”
Thorn nodded and headed out.
“Okay, Viera, here goes nothing.” Betsy placed one hand on Viera’s chest, the other on her forehead. She closed her eyes and imagined her magic was a river. All I need to do is push a bit of my river over a waterfall into Viera. Not a lot, just enough for her to wake up and start to build up her own reserves.
She imagined a slow trickle of her magic dripping down from her into Viera. Betsy breathed slowly and deliberately, her body trembling with the effort of siphoning the magic away. The process was anathema to everything she’d learned. Her reservoir of magic was vast, she had plenty to give, but the idea was just plain weird.
After what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute or so, Betsy heard a stuttering breath. The muscles under Betsy’s hand tensed then trembled. “Betsy? What are you doing?”
With a sigh, Betsy pulled back and opened her eyes, smiling down at her friend. “Look at you, being awake and stuff. How do you feel?”
“Tired. Weak. Shaky.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You wouldn’t happen to have coffee? Do you?” Her tone was so hopeful, a smile spread across Betsy’s face. “Wait, where am I? And why are you here?”
“She doesn’t, but I do,” Thorn said from the doorway. “You don’t know how thrilled I am that you’re awake.”
Viera tried to sit but failed. Betsy took the items Thorn carried so she could slip in behind Viera, helping her up. Then Betsy gave her the coffee first. Viera groaned in appreciation.
Once Viera had enough in her to sit on her own, she looked around the room. “We’re not on the ship, but my last memories … they aren’t a nightmare, are they?”
Betsy shook her head. “No, they aren’t.”
“Are the damn bugs attacking here, then? Do you need me at top magical ability? I’ll fight, even if it’s just throwing rocks.”
Betsy’s shoulders drooped, though she saw Thorn smile at that comment. At least that wasn’t where they were. “No, but I … we, if you want to join me, have a meeting with the government officials in an hour. Mr. Juk Hopkins himself.”
“Last time it took a few days to get a meeting. How did you get one so quickly this time?” Viera sounded impressed.
“Oh! I haven’t called him yet. Shall I do that now? I wanted to make sure you’d be up for the meeting before I called.”
Viera smiled. “Yeah, let’s see how much time I have to shower. I may want to head up to the ship and take a soak or five.”
Thorn slapped her forehead. “For fuck’s sake, I should’ve done that, shouldn’t I? It would’ve helped, right?”
Betsy shrugged. “Maybe. I’m surprised Flower Prancer didn’t mention it.”
Viera rolled her eyes at the mention of her trainer.
Pulling out her phone, Betsy dialed Juk’s direct phone number. “Hello?” His young voice sounded almost professional. “Juk Hopkins.”
The hesitancy of his voice made Betsy smirk. She didn’t know why his boss assigned such a young pup, except that they must have known it didn’t matter. They were all young pups to her. “Hi, Mr. Hopkins. It’s Betsy Doeth. Viera Kor and I need to come in and speak with you today. We can be there in an hour or two, whichever works better for you.”
The poor boy sputtered for a full minute before he could get words out. “Ms. Doeth, how did you get my direct number? I didn’t even know I had a direct office number.”
“You read my files, Mr. Hopkins. Let’s not back-slide. This is important. One hour or two?” She tried to be succinct, but worried she’d have to go over his head again.
“You don’t understand. I’m busy. I couldn’t meet with you for at least a week.” She could hear papers and typing in the background as he floundered.
“That won’t work. Two choices. One hour or two.” Her voice had hardened. After this event, she was going to go to his boss and get a better point-person. She deserved better than this.
“I just don’t know if that’s possible, Ms. Doeth. Is it a matter of national security?”
She sighed. “Mr. Hopkins. Are you going to give me a time to meet? One hour or two? If not, the decision will be made for you. Remember what happened to your predecessor.”
He laughed … laughed. “Oh, Ms. Doeth, I’m not worried about that. Next time, call by proper channels. I can talk to my aide, and we can find a time next week. Maybe next week Thursday?”
