Damali's gaze met Marlene's. "Yeah. I know. But before we draw straws for who gets the first shift and showers, we need some navigational advice. You said to lock in on the pyramid that's in the center of the Triangle, right?"
"Yes, but draw your lots first," Pearl replied. "Those ladies have to be clean, bathed or showered, so that nothing from the recent battle goes toward the Atlantean crystals within the pyramid. The stone structure will give you a steady compass point, but the Guardians will get back one of the healing rays. I cannot specify what ray any particular individual will receive, but it will sense the child she carries and give her crown chakra vibrations of Divine insight, or second-sight intensity, or charismatic speech from the throat chakra, or a lion's heart, or something from the chakras of gall and indignation over the injustices of the world, hence courage or gut instinct, or significant primal reflexes. Each female will come away from her post with her child's gift amplified, as well as her own."
"Whoa," Carlos murmured. "Pearl, that's some serious mojo."
"Indeed it is." Pearl giggled. "But may I make a suggestion?"
"You are the oracle, sis," Damali said, growing peeved at the way Pearl always flirted so outrageously with Carlos.
"If it's not too much of a hardship, why not allow Marlene and Shabazz, Marjorie and Richard, and Mike and Inez to take the first watch with Mr. Sinclair at the helm. Those are the only couples not expecting, even though the strain on Inez is great. . . but tell her not to worry, her mother and baby are in solid Guardian hands. I would not make this suggestion if it were a time for Inez to grieve."
Inez covered her face with her hands and breathed into them, as Mike rubbed her back and then pulled her into a deep hug, "Those mothers-to-be need to bathe, to wash any possible contagion from them, as do their mates," Pearl said pleasantly.
"Use the additional salons as bedrooms for now . . . pull out the sofas and use them for rest. Everyone should be hydrated and eat while they can, sleep while they can, so they are refreshed in the event of emergency. Marlene and Marjorie and Inez can hold the trinity polarity of the vessel, guiding it past all calamities, while Richard and Shabazz and Mike can learn to pilot it, as well as provide security. Mr. Sinclair can take brief breaks by dozing on the pullout sofa in the pilothouse, if the other gentlemen simply hold his course. Once the night falls, Mr. Sinclair will need to be at the helm as the most experienced captain, and the seven couples can relieve the three. This is my advice, take it or leave it."
Damali was so grateful to her pearl for her advice that once in a cabin alone, she simply kissed her necklace repeatedly until it giggled. Fatigue made her entire body feel as if she were walking through molasses, and after an insane morning, her stomach was growling and her eyelids were so heavy that she could barely keep her head up.
She didn't care who got what room, as long as she could shower and then fall down on a soft mattress. Carlos had ransacked the hotel gift shop back on the island with a straight energy jettison without leaving the yacht, bringing in clothes for everybody, except Big Mike--for him he just pilfered the British Navy's base, and even then, the pickings were slim. But she should have known that her husband would have wrangled the master suite out of the deal. Part of her appreciated that he did, while the other half of her felt slightly guilty.
When she stepped out of the tiny shower, she was surprised to see him leaning against the door with a smile.
"You feel better?" he asked, not going near her.
"Have you been standing there the whole time?" She squeezed her freshly shampooed dreadlocks out, and gave him a half-smile.
"Yeah, I figured I was on those foul-ass cruise ships, no telling what funk splattered me. Didn't wanna sit on the bed with it or touch you to get it on you, so, if you're done, lemme jump in real fast, change, throw our duds overboard, and I'll go get you something to eat."
"How about you go get washed and I'll go get you something while you're in?" she said, loving him for just suggesting that he'd do that. "I wasn't on those ships, and I didn't see half of the gore, or fight it. I'm just glad you guys made it out alive."
"You're gonna make me kiss you and use up our sleep time on something else," he said with a grin. "But, seriously, why don't you just go lie down and I'll go. In fact, I insist, because as it is, I've gotta light blast this door where I've been leaning, just in case."
"You drive a hard bargain," she said, yawning as she sat down heavily on the side of the bed.
He motioned toward the wicker chair in the corner of the room with his chin. "Brought you a cotton sundress . . . thought it might be comfortable to sleep in. Some more jeans and a couple of tanks, some sneakers, flip-flops, undies ... I wasn't sure what all you wanted. Pretty much cleaned out the store for everybody and left that on the top deck for them to sort out--so if you don't like what I picked, there's more stuff up there."
"If you weren't dirty, I'd kiss you," she said with a gentle smile.
"Then lemme go clean up," he said, pushing off the door with a sly grin. "Be back in a flash."
She followed him with her eyes until he closed the door behind him, but the moment he did, she realized just how exhausted she was. The sundress now seemed sooo far away. All she wanted to do was lie down for a few moments, shut her eyes, and curl into a little ball.
He was in and out of the shower like greased lightning, but by the time he opened the door, Damali's peaceful breaths made her chest gently rise and fall. His poor boo was wrapped in a damp towel, hair all over her head, nearly passed out from all the drama, and hadn't even been able to change into her sundress.
Carlos kicked his soiled clothes to the side, walked over to her, and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. How during the extended war of the Armageddon did he keep that serene expression on his wife's face? He couldn't even begin to figure that out. Rather than try, he walked over to the chair and found his sweatpants and a pair of flip-flops. At least while she was asleep, he could find her something decent to eat. The bitch of it was, she was vegan and everything good, like fresh fruit and vegetables, was potentially tainted. So he'd have to concoct a meal for her from frozen stock . . . maybe some kind of stir-fry, who knows.
On a mission, he light cleaned the door, the doorknob, and any surface he'd touched, just for good measure, taking their soiled clothes out with him to fill in a garbage bag and then dump. As he stood at the bow rail alone, holding the plastic over the pristine blue sea, the political incorrectness of just dropping it into the ocean made him jettison it back to the already destroyed marina. "Be kind to the earth," a familiar male voice said. "You'll need her one day, so will your children."
Carlos whirled on the sound, his heart beating hard. "Father Pat," he whispered, emotion catching in his throat.
"We didn't forget about you," Father Pat said quietly, his translucent form moving with the gentle Caribbean breeze. "It has only been three days since D.C. The Neterus will return to your side."
"But, you were the one I missed the most, man. I'll get them back for what they did to you--you know that, right?"
"I do . . . but not at the expense of your family or team. It is glorious here."
Carlos nodded and briefly looked away. "They got your boys, too. The other clerics."
"I know," Father Pat said softly. "Son, I know."