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Twenty-Four

 

July 4

Miranda put her bare feet up on a chair and leaned back, snuggling into a long, silk robe, a gift from Matt. Below the hotel balcony, San Francisco Bay glittered in the early morning sun, sounds of the city reaching her only in muted tones.

"Ah, my lady, fresh-brewed coffee, courtesy of the hotel." Matt, in sweatsuit, set two steaming mugs of coffee on the small wooden table. "You look quite elegant in that lovely garment."

"I feel like a queen. What did it set you back?"

"Tush, tush, one does not ask the value of one's gifts. I got it on sale."

Miranda laughed. "How enchanting."

"Part of the reason you look so good, I think, is the rest you've gotten on this break despite yourself. Good ol' Avram. Knows when to call a halt."

"Yes, but there's still some work we need to do before the task force scatters—"

"There you go again, talking like the mother hen." Matt took a drink of coffee, looked at her. "Perhaps you're too close to your subjects."

She sat up. "Nonsense."

"Oh?" He got up from the table, disappeared into the room. When he came back, he carried a good-sized painting, which he placed on the arms of his chair, balancing it with a hand. "Explain this, then. Avram says take a couple weeks off and you spend most of it working feverishly on this portrait. Not too close, you say?"

Marian Athlington gazed out of the portrait, long hair cascading over bare shoulders. Behind her left side, the constellation Orion shone through an open window; behind her right shoulder, a hefty cat sat imperiously on a bookshelf, green eyes mirroring the sharp look in the blue eyes of the main subject.

Miranda looked into the reflection of the sky on the surface of her coffee. "An artist does not have to explain her inspiration."

"In this case, you don't need to." Matt set the painting on the floor, leaned it against the balcony wall. "But I am curious as to why her."

Miranda straightened. "That image is based upon a database I used last December when I finally got curious about who I was studying instead of just why. It was a lifeless image, a collection of number-based pixels, based on those idiotic photos they took last year. It stuck in my mind for a long time. The only way I could deal with it was to do that. I needed to infuse some life into it. The life I know she has in her."

"In my humble opinion, you have succeeded." He stepped back, gazing at it. "Is the cat artistic license?"

"No, Alex Roth had some friends of Marian's in Albuquerque take pictures of her cat and send them to me." She stood up, stepped over to Matt's side. "Why am I getting the third degree here?"

He took her hand. "I'm trying to understand a little more about the woman I love. I assume we're taking this to Rewound Ranch today for more reasons than you just want to show off."

Miranda gently touched the painting edge with a finger.

"It's a gift. I want her and the others to know I believe in them beyond numbers and molecules and alien encounters."

 

* * *

 

[["Could this be the last report about the Rewound Children? Is this the last time we'll mention these people, the last time what they do will make the news? Probably not, but perhaps the nature of the news will change. Instead of reporting about their deaths, we will be able to report about their lives. Marinka?"

"This afternoon, the Rewound Children will be joined by the Holn Effect Task Force at Rewound Ranch—the sanctuary's unofficial name—for a Fourth of July picnic and fireworks bash. As big as the ranch is, it still will be pretty crowded; the entire task force is bringing families to join the group and whatever of those families have come along. Dr. Avram Rolstein says the events are planned as a celebration—of life, of friendship, and of freedom. All of the surviving members of the Rewound Children are now living on site. The MacAlister Foundation has hired several members of family and friends of the group to help run the place. Rolf?"

"For instance, Dr. Virginia Barker has been appointed chairperson of the extension school the University of California is establishing there. Dr. Barker is a particle physicist who lost her job seven years ago and ended up in a homeless shelter in Albuquerque, a shelter that eventually took in Marian Athlington and Aaron Fairfax, two of the rewoundees. Her first official act was to hire Mark Adams, spouse to rewindee Tom Cathen, as a professor of English. Angela Chavez, sister to rewindee Pete Aragon, has been hired as a nutritionist, and Michael Thompson, recently married brother of rewindee Eddie Thompson, will work as a physical trainer. Other hirings are expected soon. Marinka?"

"Two of the rewindees themselves are reemployed. Tom Cathen has been rehired by UC-Berkeley as a professor of humanities. He will complete his studies on the social structure of the mother ship inhabitants that he began before he was transformed. Meanwhile, Golden Gate Associates, the prestigious law firm in San Francisco, has rehired Cheryl Vroman. Spokesmen say she will participate in lawsuits related to the Rewound Children, and have hinted at a possible appearance in court for oral arguments. Rolf?"

"So it stands now—the group is in a safe haven, each member making plans for his or her new life. They have no more idea what will happen now than do any of us in our own futures. As Mr. Fairfax pointed out, they still must grapple with the same questions about life we all do. Only they, as the scientists have pointed out, might be harbingers of a new, but exciting, world.

This is Rolf Treadwell . . ."

" . . . and Marinka Svoboda, CNN, San Francisco."]]

* * *

 

Aaron studied his hand at the end of his arm. Now that he knew for sure all the other cells in his body—not just fingernail cells—were dividing again, promising growth back to what he had been, a weighted shroud had lifted from his mind.

He tried to center himself in the infinite distance where moons orbited planets, planets orbited stars, stars orbited in galaxies, galaxies moved in stately grace in neighborhood groups, the entire structure of the universe moving—where?

He heard bare footsteps come up behind and a body drop down to his left, limber legs joining his in dangling over the pier end.

"Penny for your thoughts," Marian said.

"Show me the penny first."

She spread her hands. "Do I look like I have a penny?"

"No. You look quite fetching, actually." She wore the same he did: a pair of swim trunks.

"Don't get fresh, Mr. Fairfax."

"I wish I could."

She smiled at him from under a thatch of wayward hair. "Just be patient."

"Patient, she says," rolling his eyes. "I'll show patience." He ran a finger up her side.

She twisted sideways and fell against him. "Stop it," she said, looking directly into his eyes, smiling slightly. "I'll have to retaliate."

"Just be gentle," he said, stroking her jawline lightly, then down her neck and across her chest. She reacted as the touch traveled, then pushed herself up, still gazing at him. His hand found hers.

"So," she said with a shake of her long hair, "put the penny on my tab and tell me what you were thinking about so seriously."

"Just my place in the universe."

"Still?"

"And I suppose you've got it all figured out."

She took a deep breath. "No." She pushed a long lock aside. "Those damn Holn. Do this to us and then run away."

"Maybe they aren't running away. Maybe they're just biding their time, waiting for us to grow up. Meanwhile, they're preparing Earthlike quarters on the mother ship—it takes time because, remember, they can't handle an oxygen atmosphere—and when we mature, they'll come back for us."

"That's an interesting thought." She looked at him. "Would you go?"

"Probably. You?"

"I don't know." She turned her gaze across the lake.

"Actually, I'm here for a more prosaic reason," he said. "I need to let the air currents flow around my left auricle in order to boost the cooling effect—"

"What are you talking about?"

He rubbed his ear. "Adrienne called this morning."

Marian arched an eyebrow.

"Just let me have it. Chewed me up one side and down the other. In essence, I'm a dope because I didn't turn to her for help, and when I tried to explain how I couldn't allow my problems to intrude upon her life, she lit into me again about how we are brother and sister and how she would have found a way to help and how worried she was when the FBI told her I was missing and she told me I was obstinate, stubborn, mule-headed, pig-headed, oxen-headed—"

Marian giggled.

"Well, you get the drift." He sighed. "The upshot of all this is that I seriously, seriously misjudged my sister."

"It's too bad you were so wrong, but I'm glad you were."

"You'll be able to judge for yourself. She's bringing the family for a visit later this month."

"Oh, Earl's family will still be here."

"Great. Their kids are about the same age."

They looked out over the swimming pond of clear, treated water over a sandy bottom. The other lake, a real body of water about five times the size, was about a mile away. To their left and on top of a rise stood Holn Row, large and luxurious cabins, each with its own kitchen, parlor, large screened porch, and up to four bedrooms, all furnished right down to the shower soap. Pete Aragon and his sister's family took the one on the far north end closest to the main lodge; Pam Yolbin and her mother in the next; then Eddie Thompson and his brother; Linda and Jerry Rithen with their son's family (wife, boy and "cutest little granddaughter," according to Joanna Yolbin); then Tom Cathen and Mark Adams. Earl and Aaron were sharing the next-to-the-last with Tontine, and Marian, Virginia, and Ken took the southernmost cabin. Cheryl moved in with Pam and Paula stayed with Linda and Jerry.

Tontine used a grant from the MacAlister Foundation to trade in his dying Fairmont for a hybrid utility wagon powered by electricity for the city and compressed natural gas for the highway. He, Virginia, and Ken packed up what few things they had—including Marian's rocking chair—and drove out from Albuquerque, bringing along an extra passenger.

"How's Merlin?"

"He's found a spot on the porch where he can lie in the sun and watch all that's going on."

"He's going to get fat. And lazy."

"Watch how fast he moves when the fireworks go off tonight."

Virginia went through a metamorphosis of her own, getting her hair styled, buying some snappy clothes, and shucking off her dowdy appearance like a butterfly out of a cocoon.

"Don't look so surprised. I am a professor, after all," she had said.

Ken got a haircut and some new clothes, grumbling about it the whole time. His last job was as a campus landscaper, so he was put in charge of the resort grounds.

"Jesus, would you look at the size of these lawns?" was his response.

Virginia and Ken also announced an August wedding.

"How's Tontine?"

"He shaved. Chin as smooth as mine."

"That's worth seeing."

Soon after their arrival, Aaron had found Tontine sitting in a chair in a darkening room, staring off into space.

"What's the matter?" Aaron asked.

"I am useless here."

"You're not responsible anymore."

Tontine leveled his sharp gaze on Aaron. "What do you mean?"

"At Grid Manor, you shouldered everybody's burden, took a personal interest in their safety, set up the structure of the society to make the place run smoothly, to make it an island of calm in an uncaring society. You don't have to do that anymore, Tontine. You can ease back, let most of the burden fall on someone else's shoulders. Now you go on your own personal quest to find what you want, what you are."

He'd kept that piercing gaze on Aaron a long time. "A personal quest, huh?" he finally said. "Sounds . . . interesting."

In the last week, he discovered a well-equipped carpentry shop in one of the maintenance buildings. He'd asked a few questions, touched some of the machinery, fingered lengths of wood. Something seemed to be stirring behind those dark eyes . . . or so they hoped.

"Promise me something," Marian said on the pier.

"What?"

"Promise you'll help me dig out Tontine's secrets. We'll have to be careful, but we have the time, now."

"We'll start with his real name," Aaron said. "Gimme five." He raised his hand and Marian slapped his palm, laughing.

"By the way," he said, "you'll be happy to know I'm not worth two-hundred thousand more than you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I talked to Barbara Carlson last night, my successor. Part of the money was a kickback for inside information Tydings wanted. The SEC is all over Thagg, Morgan, and Edwards and half the staff quit." He shook his head. "I worked so hard to keep the shadow of scandal out of that place. God damn it!"

She bumped his shoulder with hers. "You did what you could. Money corrupts."

He snorted. "I ought to know."

"At least one person we know can handle money. Miguel."

"Yeah. That kid is amazing."

Miguel, it turned out, had saved nearly eight thousand dollars. Unfortunately, his fiance had jilted him, but instead of mooning over it, he bought a house in Albuquerque's South Valley with foundation help. The property included a small guest house, and Betty and Kilkenny moved in.

"Virginia talked to him last night," Marian said. "Betty's already gotten a couple of neighborhood customers, and Kilkenny is going into the lawn-care business."

"That's great."

Ken had been right about most of the people at Grid Manor. Even after Alex and Giles had announced the foundation would offer help in any form to the people who had been in Grid Manor most of the year, only a few had accepted anything, mostly using services to find jobs and better shelter. The group began to drift apart. Indeed, to their sorrow, White King Sam and Black King Leo put the chessmen away, folded up the board and faded away into the night, unobserved by anyone.

Aaron sighed. "'Lately, it occurs to me . . . what a long, strange trip it's been.'"

"Amen."

They were not aware of the footsteps coming up behind them until the last second.

"Look out," Aaron said, ducking.

The figure of Earl hurled over them, curled into a ball and hit the water with a tremendous splash.

"Oh, Earl," Marian muttered as water droplets rained down.

Earl's head broke the surface with a swirl of water.

"What're y'waiting for?" he shouted. "You guys have been sitting there like bumps on a log. Enough talk. Get in here and swim. The water's great. Worry about tomorrow tomorrow."

"Earl the swimming philosopher," Marian said.

"Duck," Aaron said again as more feet pounded down the pier. Eddie shouted as he leaped, followed quickly by Cheryl. Two splashes and more cold drops dotted their skin.

Marian stood up. "I'm getting soaked just sitting here."

"Yeah. Buncha ill-mannered children." Aaron stood up, and they started heading up the pier. Two more shouting figures ran at them, Pam with Pete at her heels, then two more splashes. Aaron and Marian didn't get very far when Jerry thundered by, followed by Linda and Paula.

"Will you look at that," Aaron said. "He's being chased by two females."

"Jealous?"

Splash-splash-splash.

"Not yet."

They both stopped and watched as Tom approached rapidly.

"SorryI'minahurry," he muttered as he dashed on down the pier.

Marian gazed after the figure in bright yellow trunks. "Is that any way for a professor of humanities to act?"

Splash.

"Hey!" Earl hung off the end of the pier. "Last one in is a rotten egg!"

"Don't need it," Aaron shouted back.

"Names will never hurt me," Marian said.

"You're both rotten eggs, then."

"Childish," Aaron muttered as they continued walking. "Of course, you realize it would be a moot point anyway, on who would be the rotten egg, I mean. It certainly wouldn't be me."

"I beg to differ with you, Aaron Lee Fairfax. I don't remember everything about Christmas Eve, but I do remember staying well ahead of you for several blocks."

"Well, sure, you had a half-block head start. If you hadn't pooped out, I would have caught you eventually."

"Pooped out? Pooped out?"

"Yeah. Just ran out of gas."

She turned and faced him, legs apart, hands on hips, hair flowing over arms and chest. "That is an untruth, sir."

"Not so." He faced her. "If I were inclined to do so, I would leave you in my dust. If I were so inclined, you understand."

"If I were so inclined, I don't think so."

"If I were so inclined . . ."

"Yes?"

"If—"

In an instant, both were hurtling down the pier.

"Clear the LZ, here they come!" Earl shouted and disappeared.

Aaron's feet pounded the ersatz wood and air brushed across his body. He leaped at the pier edge and soared weightless over the shining surface, watching as the water rose at him. It stung him as he smacked through. He quickly pushed toward the surface. He broke through to air, cleared the water from his eyes and spotted Marian doing the same three feet away.

"Ha, ha, Marian, the rotten egg."

"Liar! Take that." She smacked water into his face.

"Why you—take that." He splashed her back, then was hit in the side of his head.

"Sneak attack eh? Take that, Linda."

She laughed, returned fire, and was splashed immediately by Earl, who got hit by Paula, who was splashed by Tom, who got it from Cheryl. Soon everyone was splashing everyone else and water flew everywhere.

Sound waves originating in vibrating vocal cords powered by expulsions of air reverberated off the water, bounced off rocks on the shore and shot up over the land to echo off natural and manmade structures.

To any human ear within range, it sounded very much like the laughter of children.

 

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