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  Ash was at Headquarters early the next morning, but not early enough to be the first to get to Colonel Rogers. When Corporal Jones came out of the office, saluting on his way past without meeting Ash’s eyes, she knew luck wasn’t on her side after all. There was still a wait before she was called into the office. She could hear someone talking and wondered who else might be there, but the colonel was alone when Ash was finally admitted. She must have been talking on the phone.

  Colonel Rogers, behind the desk in her small office, did meet Ash’s eyes, but with a perceptible effort. “Glad to have you back, Lieutenant Ashton. I’ve had excellent reports of you and Sergeant Brown from the medical team you accompanied. What was your impression of the mission?”

  So they’d get the easy part out of the way first.

  “My impression, Colonel, is that more missions like that would get us a whole lot further than any combat actions. It’s not just the ‘honey catches more flies’ thing, but a way for all sides to see the others as real people not so different from themselves. And in spite of all the tribal restrictions, the women here have significant influence in their own ways. Winning them over would be better than winning a battle.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” The colonel sighed. “As I told you before you left, though, this was a one-shot affair. We can’t get funding for more. There was a trial program like this several years ago, and I was involved, but in spite of being clearly successful, the budget for it was scrapped.” She shook her head in disgust. “Plenty of funds for weapons, almost none for humanitarian purposes. Don’t quote me on that.” She and Ash were on generally friendly terms, but Ash was still surprised that she’d spoken so frankly. Possibly she, too, was uneasy in this formal interview. “Well, write up your report in detail, and we’ll hope that a time comes when we can use it as support for a new program.”

  She stood and moved to look out a window, dusty from the sand outside. Ash could see the tension in her shoulders, and feel it in her own.

  Colonel Rogers turned back. “Enough about that. I hear you had some excitement yesterday on the way back, but Corporal Jones’s account seemed confused. What was all that? Tell me about it.”

  Ash was weirdly relieved to finally get down to it. “Yes, ma’am. It was pretty intense, and I’m hazy about some of it. All that time hiding, cramped up, breathing dust…” Her shiver at this point was entirely genuine. She went on through the part about the disabled jeep. “I think Sergeant Brown said something about a clogged air filter. Anyway, when we saw the motorcyclists in the distance, she knew by the sound of their engines that they were the enemy’s. There were some ruins nearby that seemed too obvious as a hiding place, so we went down into a dry wadi and managed to crawl into a sort of a cave under an overhang. We could hear them stopping by our jeep, and then passing by on foot to search the ruins, but one of them came down into the wadi and nearly found us. We were there, in the cave, for a long, long time, firearms ready if it came to that.”

  The colonel’s brief nod showed that she understood. “So. What then?”

  “They finally left. Sergeant Brown suspected a booby trap or peripheral IEDs, so we approached cautiously, with her in the lead. She’s had a great deal of experience in mine detection.”

  “So I’ve heard. One of her many useful talents.”

  Ash eyed the colonel sharply. Was there an implication of more intimate skills? Did it matter? “While still some distance from the jeep, we saw Corporal Jones coming at a high speed. I signaled him to stay back, in case of IEDs, but he ignored me, so Sergeant Brown ran toward him at risk of her own life to slow him down. I’m not entirely clear about what happened next. All I can tell you is what I think I saw.”

  Did that flicker of the colonel’s eyes mean she sensed an evasion? Ash forged ahead, closing her own eyes to focus on what she had actually seen. “His jeep swerved, and skidded, and looked like it would hit ours. Sergeant Brown ran toward me as though to shield me. Just before a collision, our jeep seemed to leap high up and sideways, then exploded on landing. To my shame, I think I passed out briefly right about then. Sergeant Brown seemed certain that it had been booby-trapped. I think she’s filed a complete report.”

  “Yes. I’ve seen the report. Much like yours, but with speculation as to what new explosive techniques the enemy might have developed.”

  “As I said, I was pretty much in a daze by then, so that’s all I remember.”

  The colonel began pacing slowly back and forth between the window and her desk. “Corporal Jones tried to reach me here last night, as did you, apparently, because he saw you outside. He particularly remembered because a strange thing occurred just then. Did you notice two men carrying steel pipes on their shoulders, one stumbling, and several pipes very nearly falling off?”

  Oh, damn. Here it came. “That was my fault, Colonel. I’d been, well, daydreaming, and was in their way. He tripped trying to get around me.”

  “Did you observe the pipes roll back up onto his shoulder in a way that can’t be explained?

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. It startled me.”

  Colonel Rogers stopped in front of her desk and leaned back against it. “Lieutenant Ashton. ‘Dazed’ and ‘daydreaming’ and being ‘startled’ are not terms that I would associate with you. Your record has been exemplary, especially your cool competence in dangerous situations. The medical personnel on your mission had high praise for how you handled some very tricky confrontations. I have to ask, are you feeling quite well?”

  Ash was in fact feeling suddenly strong, and confident. The colonel’s words were like a switch that connected who she’d always been with exactly who she was now. “Quite well, thank you. Yes, I was shaken by yesterday’s occurrence, but I think I’ve completely recovered.”

  It was true. There was no point in worrying, in questioning. She thought about how much more she could have done on the medical mission, actions in her power now but not then, like moving an injured child into the X-ray van without causing pain. While there was still much to learn, she knew without a doubt that she had people to save, and missions to carry out that were far beyond anything she could do in the Army.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Colonel Rogers sat back down at her desk. “I’m required to report yesterday’s incident to a special unit where they take an interest in things not easily explained, like your jeep leaping high up and away before exploding. That level of weapons technology must be investigated, and, if it exists, used for our side. I expect them to send an operative here to interview you, possibly even this afternoon.” Her expression relaxed. She very nearly smiled. “Take the rest of the day off, Ash.” The informality would have been routine for the Officers’ Club, but was seldom used in the office.

  “Thank you, Colonel.” Ash saluted and began to turn away, but the colonel went on, “Just one more little detail in Corporal Jones’s report that I’ve been curious about. Are you in the habit of raising your arm in front of you when inexplicable things are about to happen?”

  Ash had no power to deflect this kind of missile, but she took it without flinching. “Something reflexive, I guess. Do you suppose there’s such a thing as an instinct for self-defense that kicks in even before a danger is apparent?”

  “Who knows? But if such occasions arise in the future, it might be just as well if that reflex isn’t so obvious to onlookers. In some cultures that might even suggest, say, witchcraft. Just something to consider carefully.”

  Ash nodded, saluted again, and left to find Cleo, mulling over what had been said. Just how many of the colonel’s statements was she meant to consider carefully? “Plenty of funds for weapons?” “Weapons technology put to use by our side?” Was she herself in danger of becoming a human weapon? Get a grip. More likely paranoia had come with whatever that cantankerous goddess idol had injected into her. In any case, Ash had already resolved that she alone would be the one to decide how a
nd when she used this questionable gift, in the Army or out of it.

  Cleo was puttering around outside the motor pool’s repair facility, sitting in a patch of shade and poking at some bit of mechanical gadgetry. She set it down when Ash approached.

  “Hot enough for you?” Ash murmured. Then, a bit louder so that anyone nearby could hear it, “You said they’d finished the enclosed firing range here, Sergeant. How about it? If we’re going to get into any more messes, I’d better do something to sharpen my marksmanship.”

  “Firing range” was another turn-on phrase for them. Places where most people are wearing earplugs are good for private communication if you know how, and if your timing is right, there might not be anybody else there at all.

  “How did your report go over?” Ash asked on the way.

  Cleo was nonchalant. “There’ll be some flak to face, but I can deal. You?”

  “Corporal Jones was coming out as I was going into the colonel’s office. Things are hitting the fan. She asked about the medical mission, and wanted to know about the ‘incident’ yesterday, and how I was feeling, and then said someone from a special unit was flying in to interview me. They want to figure out what the hell kind of technology could have sent that jeep flying.”

  “I’ll just bet they do.”

  “I need to figure it out for myself, but I’d rather leave them out of it. Whether it’s technology or some woo-woo power, whatever it is, it’s mine, and I’ve still got it.” She stared at the canvas flap leading to the firing range twenty feet away and lifted her hand just a little. The flap rose slowly in a series of jerks, then folded itself back to let them in.

  “Can you do that with no hands?”

  “Let’s see.” Ash clenched her fists at her sides and concentrated on the canvas. It twitched upward a couple of feet, but that was all.

  “You just need practice. C’mon. Whatever this thing is, we should take it for a spin and see what it can do. What you can do.” Cleo led Ash into the tent. Nobody else was there.

  “I’ve been doing that already. As far as I can tell, I have to be able to see something to…to affect it. My aim isn’t always good, either, and I can’t lift anything much bigger than a suitcase. Yesterday must have been…I don’t know what. Maybe it will all fade away after a while.”

  “Like some kind of virus? Do you want it to fade away?”

  Did Cleo want that? Ash didn’t dare go there. Did she wonder why the power had come to Ash, but not to her? And why had that goddess figure had it in for Cleo? Maybe she’d been a strictly feminist goddess and was fooled by Cleo’s boyish impression. Ash shook it off. The important question was whether it would change things between them.

  “No, I don’t want to lose it,” she said bluntly. “That whole affair was my fault, wanting to explore those ruins, and I couldn’t stand it if you’d been…hurt. If I’d lost you. Just the same, I don’t want to lose this now that I’ve got it. I want to make it even stronger. There’s no going back. I almost get the sense that she’s still watching to see what I’ll do. It’s like she’s in my blood.” She rubbed her hand where the cut was already mostly healed. “I honestly don’t know what happened with the jeep; maybe it was the motivation. And adrenaline. I couldn’t do it now. But I’m going to learn.”

  She still had her sidearm and began to draw it out, then paused, concentrated, and the gun rose by itself, executed a wobbly flip, and settled in her hand. She gave a rueful laugh. “Not too smooth with the old-time gun slinger tricks yet. I’m hoping working on target shooting will help my focus on more than one front.”

  The best part of target practice was always when Cleo stood behind with her body pressed close, reached her arms around, pressed her cheek against Ash’s hair, breathed in her scent, and guided her stance and aim. It hadn’t yet done much for Ash’s so-so marksmanship, but it did a whole lot for both of them just the same.

  This time, when Cleo backed away and Ash started firing, at first she was missing as much as she ever had. Gradually, though, she learned to focus, not hitting the bull’s eye, but at least nudging the bullets into its neighborhood. Cleo was impressed, but not deceived.

  “Hey, you’re really working it, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, focus is exactly what I need. I could affect the damned bullets better if they didn’t go so fast, but I’m getting the hang of it.”

  “Keep it up, and maybe you’ll be able to launch them just as well without benefit of the gun at all.” Cleo’s tone was joking—or maybe not.

  “That’d look suspicious, wouldn’t it?” Ash turned, grinned, and held out the gun. “Here, you take over and see if you can beat my score.”

  Cleo returned the grin, clearly glad that the cocky lieutenant she loved was back. Ash knew there was still a hint of brittleness to her own mood, but what the heck, they’d both been through some severe trauma. Not that Cleo would cut her any slack when it came to marksmanship. She’d always beaten Ash’s scores right into the ground. She’d know what that challenge was really about.

  Cleo’s first three shots centered or edged the bull’s eye. The next one barely clipped it. When she missed by an inch, first to the right and then to the left, she stopped and set down the gun.

  “Impressive,” she said. “The real challenge is whether you can divert a bullet coming right at you. Better yet, stop it in midair. But we’re sure as hell not going to test that notion.”

  “Maybe with a Kevlar vest? But I’d need to be able to see the bullet, and that wouldn’t be possible.”

  Cleo ignored her. “You couldn’t actually see our bullets in flight just now, but you knew their trajectory well enough to divert them. Maybe you don’t have to literally see a thing.”

  Ash thought about that. “Maybe it just has to be in my line of sight.”

  “How about if you know exactly where something is, even if it isn’t entirely in your line of sight?”

  “Hmm. Let’s just see about that.” Ash drew back a few feet. Her mouth twitched into a little smile and there was a subtle movement in Cleo’s right pants pocket where she kept her key ring, attached by a chain to her belt. For a moment, it felt exactly like when she’d slid her hand deeply into that snug space and teased Cleo’s all-too-sensitive thigh while they’d strolled through a Parisian evening, but now Ash was standing four feet away with both hands in her own pockets.

  Cleo, startled, drew a sharp breath. Ash’s smile widened. She extended her hand with the key ring dangling from one finger. Cleo grabbed reflexively at the chain, still attached to her belt. Very slowly the key ring drifted through the air between them until it almost reached her, then blinked suddenly out of sight, secured once again to the chain.

  “Show off!” Cleo blurted, and then, “What does it feel like, doing what you do?”

  Ash considered. “At first, in the wadi, it was like pulling strings, or pushing buttons. I felt something like a vibration, and things would move the way I wanted them to. The jeep thing was so sudden I didn’t think at all, an explosion in my head before the actual explosion. I may have been thinking when I threw you out of the way, but I’m not even sure of that.”

  “What about the target shooting? Can you really move the bullets the way you want them to go? That’s some major voodoo!”

  She shrugged. “Focus. Bearing down, sort of boring a hole through space and sending orders through it. I worked on focus this morning when I was sure nobody was looking, opening and closing things, making pencils float around. Just moving things through the air feels different from making them disappear and appear somewhere else, but I don’t know exactly what the difference is.”

  “How about taking the keys out of my pocket?”

  Cleo had looked like she’d felt something more than just the keys moving. Ash was sure of it. Was it only because she wanted to be sure of it?

  “That was…” Ash paused. “What did it fee
l like to you?”

  “It felt like your hand, your actual hand, in my pocket, feeling me up. The way you did in Paris.”

  “I felt it, too. Like real touching. Nothing else I’ve moved felt like real touching.”

  How far could that go? Ash guessed Cleo was wondering that, too. She focused again on the hand deep in her own pocket, and imagined it reaching out invisibly to stroke down Cleo’s back and over her tight butt. By the way Cleo twitched, that butt must be tingling. Ash’s actual hands moving in her pockets made her own flesh tingle, too.

  “Ash! How far can we take this?”

  Ash smiled. Cleo’s keys began to move again—and then the canvas flap lifted. Someone peered in.

  They stood immobile, still four feet apart, but clearly not shooting at the targets. The intruder backed out without a word.

  Ash sighed. “I’m being followed. They’ll want to know where to find me when that specialist arrives.”

  Cleo got her breathing under control. “So maybe playing hide-the-keys isn’t our best strategy right now.”

  “It was your idea,” Ash said reasonably. “You challenged me to move something out of my line of sight. And you said we should take this power thing for a spin. Why not have some fun?” Her tone changed. “There’s so much to learn, so much I don’t know. And I don’t dare let anybody but you know too much.”

  “There was this movie a while back,” Cleo said carefully. “Something like Men Who Stare at Goats, about trying to use people with psychic powers in the military. Stupid damned movie, but I just wondered whether that specialist flying in to interview you might be involved with something like that, instead of regular technology.”

  “Of course he is! Probably some character who thinks he can read minds. But there’s no way I’ll let them use this…this thing, for destruction, no matter how noble they think their motives are.” Saying it to Cleo strengthened Ash’s resolve. “I have to use it, not let it go to waste. It’s going to be me deciding what’s worth doing. I’ve given the Army everything they asked of me up to now, willingly, but this is different.”