Name: kay_brooke
Story: David/Cleaner
Colors: Mystic Beach Blue #15 (here), Seafoam #9 (worry stone)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas, Seed Beads, Graffiti (Skindiving)
Word Count: 774
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: It's happening.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.


A storm was approaching over the lake, clouds gathering low and angry as if they were grasping for the surface, lightning rattling around and illuminating the inside, the distant growl of thunder that had already sent the temple dogs quivering under the tables in the dining hall.

Sheila was in the midst of helping to light candles--a burden but a necessity after the Corporation cut off their electricity--against the early night when someone arrived at the side door to the temple, the one only the priests knew about.

The whispers had barely trickled through the hallways (Mikal’s back) before Sheila strode straight to her office, because she knew that was the first place he would go.

She was right. “Mikal,” she said softly, closing and locking the door behind her. The candles in her office had already been lit. Thunder rumbled, closer, audible even here in the center of the temple, and Sheila frowned as the rock on her desk trembled. That wasn’t from the thunder. “I take it there’s bad news.”

“They got it working,” said Mikal. His boots and trousers were splattered with mud, and he was still breathing heavily. He must have run all the way from the city. “Least, they got it so they sent people and they came back in one piece.” He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples. “Nothing I could do to stop it.”

“We didn’t expect you to,” said Sheila, sitting across from him, on the other side of her desk. The rock was still trembling, taking up a rattling beat against its steel base. They’re doing it right now, she thought as she removed the rock and placed it into a drawer. “What of the baby?” She didn’t need to ask, but she did. It was good to make Mikal give a report; he seemed seconds away from shock, and he needed something to calm him.

“I couldn’t get him,” said Mikal. His voice and his hands shook. “There was too much security, I’ve never seen that much security in one place, not even around the President’s Tower.”

“This is the pinnacle of the Corporation’s research,” Sheila reminded him. “The reason the Corporation exists in its present form.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no chance,” said Mikal, as if he was still expecting some kind of punishment. And part of Sheila wanted that, wanted to stick him in a very deep, very dark hole for a very long time for his failure, but what would be the point? They’d all known going in it was likely a fool’s quest. Luck would have to have been on their side at every step, and since when was luck ever on their side?

“You did the right thing,” said Sheila. “I would rather you back here safe instead of caught and in the Corporation’s hands.” Not entirely for his sake. Who knew what they would manage to torture out of him before they killed him?

Mikal still wouldn’t meet her gaze. He was running through the scenario in his head, she knew, over and over, trying in retrospect to find some weakness he could have taken advantage of, some disgruntled Corporation employee he could have manipulated, some ruse he could have pulled to get close to the baby. She also knew he would find nothing. The Corporation had made some mistakes to the benefit of the temple, but it knew what it was doing and those mistakes were few.

The rock was rattling harder, tapping now against the inside of her desk drawer, an endless percussion that made Sheila grit her teeth. Mikal wordlessly handed her his dusty scarf, and she took the rock from her drawer to wrap it carefully. It vibrated in her hand. “The machine is causing this?”

Mikal nodded miserably. “The interaction between the machine and the crossing point both holding portals open at the same time. They’re doing it.”

“Maybe they’ll fail.” The timing was critical; a nanosecond off in either direction would result in the deaths of both children. She did not want to cheer the thought of that, but two babies balanced against two worlds? She would take the former every time.

“Maybe,” said Mikal.

Thunder cracked, almost on top of them now, and distantly Sheila could hear the roar of heavy rain on the temple roof. There was nothing for them to do, with the Corporation going through with their plans, and the priests, powerless, sitting in their temple as a storm raged above. “Tonight, perhaps,” she said, “luck will be on our side.”

“When is it ever?” Mikal asked.