The Space between Atoms 61

 Terah awoke with a scream.  His own.  Or it would’ve been, had any sound emerged.  He was paralyzed on the comfortable bed.  His opened eyes could move, however, and he saw in the dim light, other people.  Small people.  Incongruous in the modern room with Medieval touches.  Although he’d had no interest in the paranormal back in his teaching days, he had no trouble recognizing aliens.  The word “greys” even echoed in his mind.  They were all around the bed, regarding him with their wrap-around eyes.  Their skinny bodies seemed to be covered with tight-fitting clothing and their bulbous heads were enormous.  Their long fingers reached for him and he couldn’t move.

He hadn’t drawn the drapes and milky moonlight spilled over the scene.  He wasn’t levitating.  He wasn’t aboard some spaceship.  He was in a house—a place almost as foreign as a flying saucer these days—but a house with occult appurtenances.  Worse yet, he didn’t even believe in space aliens.

As spindly fingers crept toward his face he tried to jerk his arm up to prevent contact.  Obliquely the thought of the pandemic flitted through his mind.  Terah had no idea what time it was.  He hadn’t slept to a clock in many months.  He hadn’t been without Lindsey for several weeks.  To his horror he discovered an erection to which the aliens seemed to be paying special attention.  Suddenly he sat up.

Daylight.  He was alone in the large, comfortable room.  No sign of aliens or forced entry.  He was still wearing the new underwear Calum had provided.  Sighing deeply, he made his way to his private bathroom only to discover the underwear was on backward.  He had to take it off to pee.  And urinating in a proper toilet.  One that flushed and refilled, was an experience which he’d nearly forgotten.  Since he was undressed he decided to shower.  He found no strange marks on his body, but he chalked it all up to the weirdest wet dream—evidence of which could be found—he’d ever had.

The dresser in his room was gothic in design, but would’ve been at home in any decor that allowed for heavy, dark-stained oak.  He found fresh underclothes in it and reasonable outer clothes in the closet.  This lifestyle was almost as much a dream as had been his nightmare.  He decided to mention it to no one.

Downstairs he found both Lindsey and Calum at the large dining table with breakfast spread on the buffet.  There were eggs but no bacon or ham.  His sense of propriety compelled him to point out that he couldn’t pay for any of this.  He chastely poured a bowl of Cheerios.  “We don’t have much cash left,” he began.

“Nonsense,” Calum said.  “You pay by doing the same for others when you can.”  That hardly seemed likely ever to occur when breakfast cereal felt like a luxury.

“How did you sleep?” Lindsey asked.  She looked well rested.  At home.

“Fine,” he lied.  Well, partially lied.  Up until that dream it had been like anesthesia.

“Nothing unusual?” Calum asked.

“No,” he said, paying close attention to his Cheerios.  “How about you two?”

“I’m used to the strange things at Rothochtaid, and they sure beat the hell out of sleepin’ in a cave with a demon lurkin’ at the door.”

“And how long has this demon been after you?” Calum asked.

“At first I thought he was just a ghost.  Terah here showed up at Honest Oahusha after I’d been there several months.  Have you ever been?”

Calum shook his head.  “I was just reading about it, but I’ve never had the occasion.”

“Well, I’d been livin’ there for quite a while—I’d left Dickinsheet because I needed time alone.  The guys there were great, but it was a community with community obligations.  They taught me how to live on the lam, but I needed more practice with what you’d taught me.  By the way, Dickinsheet has a wood nymph hangin’ around, if you’re lookin’ for something to discover.  Mention that Claresta sent ya, and they’ll let ya poke around.  Anyway, it was after the windquake that I realized Wednesday was a demon.”

“So, it first appeared as a ghost at the asylum?”

“Yeah.  Terah here saw him attackin’ me one night, well, about to attack me, I guess, and I started to wonder back then.  Terah also saw him fuckin’ other spirits and that seemed like a pretty aggressive spiritual activity.”

Calum smiled.  “Sexuality and the paranormal have a long history together.  I see we amuse you Dr. Economy.”

“Please, call me Terah—the ‘doctor’ means nothing anymore.  I just think it’s a bit of a cliche to say sex is spiritual.  It’s just reproduction.”

“Hardly,” Lindsey said with a stare like flint.

“It’s just, well, it’s why guys said at seminary to get women in bed with them.”

“They did that at seminary?” Lindsey asked.

“Seminary means ’seed bed,’ you know,” Terah smirked.  He didn’t often feel that he knew anything she didn’t.  “I always thought it was a theological pick-up line to say sex was a spiritual experience.”

Calum stepped in.  “That’s natural enough.  There have been studies—mostly ignored by mainstream science—that show tremendous and statistically improbable correlations between sexuality and what we might call spiritual activity.  Probably the most obvious example is the poltergeist.  An adolescent, usually a girl, becomes the center of objects moving on their own, generally violently.  Plenty of cases have been documented, safely categorized as hoaxes by scientists, but real enough nevertheless.  And there are any number of less dramatic, but still convincing associations.  Sex is far more than procreation.  But we were hearing about Wednesday.”

“Well, Terah here thought the ghosts were real people.  Livin’ people, I mean,”  Lindsey continued.  “I’d assumed they were stone tapes, you know.  The asylum would’ve been unusual in havin’ a concrete matrix, but stone is stone.”

“And concrete would be like mixing the matrix from several different places.  Your observation stands to reason.”

Terah had no idea what they were talking about.

“Well, then after Terah here moved in Wednesday got aggressive.  Terah insisted we leave.  I think he still thought I was a boy at that point.”

Terah nodded.  “It was always dark in the asylum.  You never gave any indication otherwise.  What’s a stone tape?”

“Ah,” Calum said with a smile.  “It’s time you saw the stones.”