Flux

9

Errend rolled over onto his other side. It wasn't because he couldn't get comfortable though. Even if the beds in the roomettes were a bit on the small size, especially for his six-foot-eight frame, they were surprisingly comfortable.

The problem was his brain. Why had Aiya's eyes been emanating bright light? He had seen it before, but not here on this planet.

Had the Rakshasa's wormhole brought more than just them? If it was the same one he had travelled through with his team it had been open far too long. Who knew what had found its way through after all these years.

Errend rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling of the train. The smooth metal curved slightly as it travelled towards the outside wall. The rhythm of the wheels of the train sliding down the track should have put him to sleep by now.

He remembered his involuntary smile at Aiya and once again found his mind running through thoughts at the speed of light.

How had it even happened? Closing his eyes tight he pictured Master Choa sitting quietly and calmly in front of his small fire, brewing tea and burning incense.

Errend had been sent to Master Choa at the age of eight. By the time Errend had been twelve emotions were a distant thing. A faint tugging at his mind he could easily ignore.

By the time Errend turned fourteen emotions passed through him but never found root. They never elicited unwanted or unplanned reactions.

He had mastered a perpetual state of awareness of himself, effectively abandoning all his qualities that got in the way of his focus, his purpose. According to his training, that purpose was to be the hand that enforced the will of Vishnu.

So how had his well-ingrained training, which had never faltered in all his thirty years of life, suddenly fail him?

Fuck! Swearing silently he carefully left the roomette he shared with Derek.

Once outside with the door shut quietly he strode towards the dining car. Perhaps he could find somewhere to sit and read.

He kept a small tablet-like device Marvin had gifted him for this purpose. It seemed to have countless books stored inside its tiny processor. He just prayed he had a charge left in his solar battery in case the tablet died.

As Errend walked into the dining car he stopped dead in his tracks. Grayson was sitting at the dining table closest to him, looking at him expectantly like this had been a meeting he'd requested.

Sighing heavily and putting his half charged reader tablet in one of his inside coat pockets he sat down.

This should be interesting if not informative, Errand thought as he quickly took in the man before him.

Grayson's eyes were bloodshot, most likely from not sleeping. However, Errend wouldn't rule out addict of some kind just yet. People handled stress in their own fashion and sometimes it was the people you least expected that had the biggest problems.

Grayson's hair looked a little bedridden, possibly from tossing and turning, his clothes hadn't changed since the day he'd met them at The Sloppy Dish and Errend was willing to bet it had more to do with the man's state of mind than a lack of clothes.

His face showed deep lines around the downturned corners of his mouth and between his brows. He carried dark circles that hung low under each eye. This wasn't the Grayson he'd encountered a few days ago. And definitely not the Grayson from six years ago.

The synopsis of the man was that he was seriously stressed. Unfortunately, Errend had an unsettling feeling he was going to find out why.

"Errend. Glad you're here. There's something I have been meaning to talk to you about."