Peter stared down from his terrace. It’s not that big a drop, he thought. There were guards at the front of the building, but only an hourly patrol around back. As for the motion sensors, they only pointed out-ward into the trees, not toward the residence wing. The power panel was located at the end of the corridor in a utility room he had scoped out after dinner. If he had to, he could disable the sensors. And he had to. He had had it with the rules and regimen and he was sick and tired of being treated like a freak. I’m not a prisoner, he thought. I’m voluntary. Jesus, now he was thinking like a mental patient. In fact, the meeting with Wolfe had left him feeling like a lunatic, his mind buzzing with crazy questions and his body in high agitation, like a newly captured animal before it submits to its cage. It’s not as though I’m going AWOL. All I want to do is run barefoot on the beach. Is that too much to ask? He pictured himself jogging through the water, feeling the sand against the soles of his feet, smelling the salt air, seeing the moon on the bay. Hell, everybody else has celebrated my rebirth-now it’s my turn. He changed into running clothes and climbed over the balcony. For a moment he hung from the railing, feeling the ease of his muscles, knowing that this would have been impossible for him to do just a short time ago. He smiled, then let go, dropping easily to the ground, silent as a cat. A loping run brought him soundlessly to the end of the building. Slipping into the doorway, he opened the panel. found the circuit breaker and tripped it. He listened.
No alarm. No stirring of feet. Hell, the place was in the middle of a Marine base on a tourist island owned by the U.S. military. How worried could they be? He started off through the woods.
Once he was far enough away from the compound, he broke into a run, feeling the muscles in his legs propel him powerfully, effortlessly through the trees. With a growing sense of freedom he watched the moon appear and disappear through the palm fronds, felt the air rush in and out of his lungs, heard the sounds of the night yield to the gentle lapping of the sea. Within ten minutes he was on sand and in another five, he broke out onto the beach. It was a restricted beach, earmarked for the practice of amphibious landings in time of war. The last time it had seen any soldiers was before Desert Storm. Now it was deserted: back to nature, thought Peter. He took off his shoes and started running barefoot: it felt even better than he had imagined.
Elizabeth had almost turned back a dozen times, but each time she stopped she felt some wordless gravity pulling her on and began to walk again, beating her way through dark grasses, palms and mangrove, often losing the glow she had seen earlier and finding her way only by moonlight or by feeling her way like a blind person. She figured she would give it five more minutes, or another hundred yards, all the while thinking, You’re being really stupid, you know that? What if you run into some drunks or dope smugglers or wild animals? She realized she was sounding like her own mother and forced herself to continue on. Then, when it was simply too dark to see anything, she stopped and caught her breath. What the hell was she doing, traipsing around in the middle of nowhere like this? Were there poisonous snakes on this island? Quicksand? Lions and tigers and bears. Oh my!, she thought, and turned back. She had taken no more than three steps when a sudden dip in the terrain sent her pitching forward, a bush caught her foot, and she sprawled forward into pitch-black air. She hit, none too gracefully, and rolled ass over teakettle through a thick stand of brush, then clunked against a dune. Unhurt, breathless and glad she was in one piece. She even laughed at herself. It had been a long time since she had done something like this, just on impulse. Because of the pale green light everywhere around her, she realized she could see perfectly well. Then she saw the bay.
It was hidden from the road and ocean by way of a narrow passage between two steep, jasmine-scented hills, but from here it was spread out before her like a magic carpet of emerald stars. It glowed as though lit from beneath, a dreamy, drifting greenish blue like a million galaxies had been caught and steeped in water. It took her breath away. It looked absolutely familiar.
1 know this place, she thought. But why?
She dimly recalled Ivor Greeley, back at the Casa del Frances, telling Mary Blanchard and her friends about something called Phosphorescent Bay. This must be it, she realized, and she had found it as though from memory. Standing up, she brushed herself off, feeling wonderfully at home. As she approached the bay, the moon disappeared behind some clouds, but there was no diminution of light-the surface of the water was its own light and it shimmered and shifted in hue as she reached the pale strip of beach. Once there, she could see that the glow was radiating not from one central source but from millions of tiny points. Light-emitting organisms, she guessed, without knowing why it didn’t feel like a guess at all. And then she remembered her dream, the one in which Hans was a sea of stars. It was this place-she was certain of it-as certain as she was of her own name. How could she come upon-by some deep and hidden instinct-a place she had seen only in a dream? Fear came rushing back, almost as if she were in the presence of a ghost, and she turned to get the hell out of there. But she never moved beyond that. Someone was running down the beach toward her. As he came closer and closer, it was harder and harder for her to breathe. No, it couldn’t be. In town, in the bars, every third man had looked like him for a nanosecond, until it wasn’t, of course. She waited for her heart to quiet down. But this time it went right on pounding. The main slowed to a trot and then stopped, raking both hands back through his pale blond hair in a gesture she had seen a hundred times. He was staring at her and she was staring at him, neither moving an inch until the moon came out from behind a cloud. And then they actually saw each other: and there was not a shadow of a doubt in either one’s mind any more. Elizabeth saw Hans.
And Peter saw the woman he had been dreaming about since the moment he had occupied this body-the Angel of his dreams, right down to the eyelash, and it scared the living hell out of him. He had never seen her before in the flesh, and yet he knew in the depths of his soul that this was the woman he had loved in his dreams without reservation or boundary night after blissful night. For a moment, neither of them could move or speak. Then Peter saw her take a step closer, and another. Then he moved toward her, hearing her call out. “Hans?”
Hans! His name was Hans! He found himself running toward her. As soon as he did, the woman streaked toward him, laughing. Crashing together, they flung their arms around each other. “It’s you. It’s really you. But how-”
He silenced her with a kiss. “It’s me,” he heard himself say. “I’m so frightened-”
“Don’t be frightened. Shh,” he said, seeing tears spring to her eyes. Without another word they held each other. The night fell away and they sank down together, fumbling at each other’s clothes, breathless with joy. The only thought in Peter’s mind was the complete and terrifying certainty that this woman, with her pale hair and clear gray eyes and exotic cheekbones, this strong, loving creature, this passionate Angel, was the lover of his clone. Then all thought vanished as his physical need for her, a thing so unabashed and physical he barely felt it coming, hit him, canceling all doubt and fear. Waves of light flowed over them; he entered her so swiftly he couldn’t believe it was happening. For the first time in his life, his body had seized utter control of his mind, taking whatever it could find to give love to this woman. She seemed so hungry for him, too, such a miracle of warmth and energy that he climaxed almost immediately. Instead of being disappointed, she seemed delighted, letting out a little yelp of surprise and gratitude, then burrowing into his arms, kissing his neck and crying softly. They lay together until their breathing smoothed and their hearts went from gallop to walk. “Oh God,” was all she could say.