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"California Here I Come" - Al Jolson It was morning… early. The purple neon "Sam's Place" sign still turned itself on and off outside the bedroom window like it did every night. Traffic noise, though subdued at this hour, was still there in the background. Yeah, tonight was no different than any other, so why was I laying awake when I should be sleeping? Why was I listening… but not to the sounds of traffic or the measured breathing of the sleeping man beside me? But no… I wasn't listening at all… not with my ears, anyway. There is no good word in the English language to describe what I sensed, but I knew it was the mental energy of another living being. "Stupid," I chided myself, "you hear thoughts all the time." That was true. I heard things in my head - mostly static but sometimes clear things I didn't want to know about. They came through when I relaxed and forgot to block them out. But those everyday thoughts were not like these - not so clear and precise and strong. No Earthman ever thought that way. Sometimes there seemed to be other unusual voices in my mental ears, too. Not strong like this one, but different enough from the background people-hum to stand out. Hearing them was always disturbing. I tried not to notice, or not to think about it when I couldn't help noticing. I used to be able to read thoughts at will, I reminded myself, dredging up dusty memories I hadn't taken out for a while. Maybe I didn't remember how to do it right, but I could still tell that these thoughts were far away from me - more than 1000 miles. The absurdity struck me and I suddenly laughed aloud. A thousand miles? Far away? How could I be thinking something like that when the planet I was born on was more than a thousand light years from the Earth I was on now? I rolled up - set my feet on the floor. There were cigarettes on the nightstand and I chose one, lit it with a match and inhaled for a while. It didn't seem to solve anything. Looking out the window I could see even more neon. They say New York City never sleeps. Watching the runaway rainbow of "Dance!", "Girls!", "Eat!", and other assorted promises, I decided a short nap wouldn't hurt it. "Hey, what's the matter? Can't sleep?" I hadn't heard him turn over. Damn. "I'm okay, Dan. I heard something." Well, sort of, I added to myself. He yawned. "After five years in the Village, I thought you'd be used to the noise." Sleepy or not, he was still in his usual good mood. I turned slightly to face him. "It wasn't just noise. I heard, well… voices." "Yeah? Are those guys from upstairs home already?" I shook my head. I knew I couldn't explain it to him. Hell, I couldn't even explain it to myself. I gave up. "I don't know. Look, I'm sorry if I woke you." I could feel his eyes on me. "You coming back to bed?" "Sure." I stubbed out the forgotten cigarette and lay back on the pillow. For his sake, I could pretend to sleep, anyway. A hand placed itself on my shoulder. "Evan…" His voice had that throaty quality I knew so well. Usually I was in the mood in a heartbeat, but tonight…. "Mmm?" "As long as we're awake…." He raised himself on one elbow. His head bent. Warm lips nibbled the side of my neck and moved down to my shoulder. I turned and reached up to caress the tightly curled black hair capping his head. "You know I love you, Evan." "I know." I kissed him. Dan was snoring softly. I sighed. My body was sated, but my mind was still far from relaxed. I kept remembering that night, almost a month ago now, when I had awakened with the taste of fear sharp on my tongue, knowing I had heard an agonized scream. But there had been no one there… not in the room with me, anyway. That was when I began to really "hear" thoughts again. When I paid attention - like now - I could feel the same sort of signals. They were not of such urgent intensity, but they had the same potential… were obviously from the same person. And this person had the strength that I used to have, back before I did my best to forget everything about it and all my other "differences." Though my mirror said maybe mid-twenties in Earth time, it had been seventy-three years since my birth, which was around the year 1900… ample time for the Federation scientists on Lecurela[1] to have made another attempt at producing a perfect ruler for themselves. And this time, maybe he wouldn't turn out to be a faggot. I let my mouth curve in something that might have resembled a smile. Bet that really shook them up. No queers on our planet! Maybe ten thousand years ago, but not in this enlightened age. No, of course not - except for the one in the royal palace. No wonder they wanted me dead. But if there was another man given the name "Univa[2]," another Federation attempt at Unity, then why was he here on Earth… like me? I had to find out. I think I did sleep awhile, in spite of myself, but dawn came along and poked a bright finger into my eye around the edge of the shade. Dan groaned sleepily as I raised myself from the bed. At last, my mind was made up. I would find the man. In a very short time I was packed, the few things I couldn't wear tossed into a cheap cloth suitcase. Just one last glance at Dan, his brown face childlike in sleep. I hoped he wouldn't be too upset when he read my note. We'd been a couple for five years now, and I loved him…. Well, I cared about him, anyway. The note said:
Not much of a good bye, but - oh, well - it would have to do. What else could I say? The train station was busy, but I didn't really notice the people - my mind was on a map. As though it spread before my eyes, I saw the United States. Was he here, on this continent? Yes, but where exactly? Somehow, my attention was drawn to the far west, the southern coast. Then I knew… Los Angeles. A city almost as big as New York, or so they said. In all my travels, I'd never been there. Okay, LA, here I come. The bored clerk never looked at me when he handed me the one-way ticket, but I didn't care. My thoughts were far away, in California. What would I say to him when we met? The train click-clacked over the ties, a soothing noise, once you got used to it, and more familiar to me than the faster, more expensive airplanes. I lay back in my seat, consciously trying now to pick up his thoughts. It had been so long, so very long. I knew precisely where he was now, but all I could perceive from him was a feeling of well being, almost of… joy. Weird - a month ago he was miserable, and now, joy? I gave up trying to puzzle it out and slept the rest of the way to California - or most of it.
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