Chapter 33

 

Jared

 

 

The seven arches not yet studied under the Zeilmar lenses in Weston's projections all had the symbol, just like the first three. Of the ten arches, four repeated the symbol more than once; the arch designated Nine had five, one at the top and two on each side. Patterson, who Weston had called on his way to the Institute, agreed with Dr. Louise that the symbols were identical and probably not hand-carved, and Dr. Ned, having studied the images very closely, said in his opinion Dr. Ramirez was entirely right; the damned things were stamped into the solid stone by whatever machine was used and he had no idea what that meant.

Louise and Cara were going through the readers Cara had brought from home, looking at the black and white illustrations from the pre-holo days, the same sort of symbol carved into stone door frames and lintels in the land of the early Celts on Earth. Jared was familiar with some of the ancient legends but he hadn't any in-depth knowledge of the civilization that inspired them.

And he hesitated to say definitively that it was essential. The symbol appeared, in some variation or other, in many Earthian cultures. It was not strictly a good-luck charm, as he had once told the McIntosh children; that was a simplification. It symbolized the interweaving of wisdom and compassion, or the flowing of time and movement in eternity, or the link between the past and the future; infinite wisdom without beginning or end; the flow of the spiritual path to enlightenment It had appeared independently in far-flung Earthian cultures and might, he imagined, just as well have appeared independently in other parts of the galaxy.

It appeared around the necks of tall slender pale people who haunted their neighborhood and followed members of their group around town for reasons they didn't bother to disclose. One, at least, claimed to be the father of three of them. One, he was beginning to believe, had once lain in his arms.

He did not think he needed to talk about any of this with the Drs. Wood, but he should talk with Cara a little – omitting Maud – and he certainly should discuss it with Issio and Sofi, which meant with Gina also. This he felt guilty about; at thirteen, balancing on the very edge of womanhood, she had enough to think about without adding his problems, and his problems, centered around Maud as they were, weren't precisely appropriate for a very young girl.

Not that Gina was an ordinary very young girl. He was still bothered by what he had glimpsed in her mind years ago; he was still amazed by what educated, reasonably intelligent parents could allow to happen to their children. But she had escaped without, he thought, lasting damage, and at least no one had molested her – which, in that milieu, was a piece of good luck.

She said the strange man – all of them had trouble referring to him as her father, although Jared thought he might actually be an improvement over Eugene McIntosh – had told her he would see her again, implying soon, but he hadn't been around yet. Of course, with finals coming up and the huge adjustment to Secondary to look forward to, she had other things on her mind right now.

Jared thought it might be nice if he could corner the man himself; he had a few questions of his own to ask.

 

Jared and Cara and the Drs. Wood kept the shop talk to a minimum at Kingsley's that night. Ned and Louise wanted to know how Jared and Cara had met, and Cara told them about Ann and the journal article and said only that they had liked each other very much at the first meeting. She didn't talk about the other events of the evening. Louise seemed to consider their meeting romantic, and gave them a long account of how she and Ned had just missed meeting each other at a conference on terraforming techniques thirty years ago, and how they could have missed each other for a lifetime if they had not happened to come together at a Microbio tech conference the following month, due to a mix-up in assigned seats and programs.

"And your mother was the principle speaker," said Louise, "which is how I got to know her. Ned knew her all his life, of course."

"Went to school together," said Ned, lifting the carafe of wine and offering Jared a refill; Jared shook his head with a smile and lifted his half-full glass for a sip, to get it out of range. "Knew the whole family," said Ned, filling his own glass. "Margo. Her father. Her mother."

"Granny," said Cara. "Cookies and lullabys," she said to Jared, who nodded; that was Gram, too. "This was hers," she said, touching her pendant. "I found it with her things."

"And isn't it remarkable that you both have the same pendant," said Louise, leaning to look at Jared's. "Did yours come from your family, Jared?" That was another improvement this weekend had brought about; they were on first-name terms now, a situation Jared liked much better than formality.

"No, a friend, years ago," said Jared. "It's an odd coincidence. And unsettling," he admitted, "seeing it last night and today, pressed into the arches. We should," he mused, "try to find out more about it, where the symbol appeared, what it meant."

"Huge big library in Tuania," said Dr. Ned. "We'll look when we get back there."

"By the way, Cara, dear," said Dr. Louise, changing the subject, "have you heard from Saizy lately?" That, Jared noted, would be Dr. p'Anotta, whose holo hung beside the holo of Cara's mother at the Institute, Cara's almost-godmother.

"No, I sent her a note on the screen but she hasn't answered. You know her," said Cara, "headfirst into her book, no time for anything else. She probably hasn't looked at her mail in months."

Dr. Ned and Dr. Louise left Sunday from the Institute, a last peek at the projections, carrying the data chips containing the virtual constructions and the close-up images, and a pile of print-outs from Cara's mythology readers, with a good many notations.

Cara and Jared drove them to catch the supertrain in Jared's car, luggage piled in back. They had packed just the basic necessities for their brief trip, Dr. Louise said, and Jared and Dr. Ned were only trying to keep track of two suitcases, two briefcases, a small make-up case, three portable screens packed in separate carrying bags, and an insulated box containing their lunch and dinner, because Dr. Ned said that the dining car food gave him gas.

"We'll call you," said Dr. Louise, one arm around Cara and the other around Jared, "and you call us. It doesn't even have to be big news – just call and chat." She let go of Cara and hugged Jared, and he hugged her back. "Did I tell you how pleased I am for you both?" she said.

"Glad to have you here," said Ned, patting his shoulder. "You look after our girl, now."

"Oh, I will," said Jared, and holding hands, he and Cara watched them climb onto the train and waited as the train, clearing the station buildings, picked up speed on its way to the elevated powered tracks.

 

"You could take her this," said Cara, handing over a folded napkin containing a wedge of tomato with a dollop of white dressing. "She used to like tomatoes." She was a little embarrassed about this, producing a salad for a fly, making any kind of offering to her mother, but she felt impelled, a mixture of guilt and dutiful concern, Jared thought. He took the napkin as if it could not be a more normal thing.

"I'll tell her you sent it," he said.

"Sounds pretty dumb, doesn't it," said Cara.

"Sounds pretty normal," he said. He had no affection for the fly and less for what he knew of Margo Lindstrom, but he respected Cara's feelings, and regretted she would get so little in return. He kissed her, leaning over the breakfast bar, and carried the napkin and the tomato out the door.

Gina was just leaving Mimi's house, waving over her shoulder, and he paused to let her catch up with him. She had been a little shy since Cara arrived, not wanting, he saw, to bother him, with the result that Cara actually saw more of her than he did. Cara, sometimes with Ann, visited with Sofi and Ollie and Evvie, and Gina was frequently with them. So Gina was growing comfortable with Cara, although she was not a child who adjusted to changes quickly; she approached them with great caution, in fact. But it wasn't unusual to come home to find Sofi with Gina and Cara, two blonds almost identical in coloring, chatting in one living room or the other, so he thought they were doing pretty well. He found that he, himself, missed Gina's presence, and the touches of her mind now and then.

"What is that?" she asked, eyeing the tomato in the napkin.

"Cara sent it for the fly," he explained. She nodded; she, too, had indifferent parents and understood how it worked.

And this was another topic of concern. Have you seen the man in the woods? he asked her, projecting a fast glimpse of him as he had been that night in the back yard with Terry. She shook her head, and he caught that image again, the pale man and Maud, standing in the woods behind his house. The woman who might be Maud, he corrected himself; he had talked with Trudy, but there were other things he could do, investigate that death certificate, for one thing, and any hospital records he could reach, always assuming he actually wanted to know.

"So Maud never really died," said Gina, and he realized he had not noticed her presence in his mind.

He wasn't going to push her out, but here she was again, seeing more than he really wanted her to see, and if he couldn't keep her out of his thoughts, at least he could make an effort to explain them to her. "I know you and Sofi think so," he said. "I don't understand why she would do it. But I'm beginning to see how it could be done. And I should find out, one way or the other."

Gina was a little vague on the legal forms required in dealing with death, but she had read a lot and watched vids and she remembered, he saw, that he had spoken of a death certificate. "Does a doctor have to sign the death certificate?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said. "Carter called the ambulance, and they took her to the hospital where the emergency room doctor saw her and issued the certificate. This is what he said. Someone did," he added, "because I saw it, the original, and I still have a copy. And I was able to handle her business, her will, on the basis of the certificate. It was presumed to be legal, obviously."

He felt her mind weighing and figuring and guessing. "The doctor could have known about it," she said. "A friend or something. If she wasn't really dead. It would have to be signed by someone who was in on it." In on the plot, he thought, remembering various mystery stories that had passed through the neighborhood, through Gina's hands, too.

"But I still don't see the point," he said.

"He said," she reminded him, "the, uh, the man, that she had to do it. That she didn't have a choice. So maybe she was forced somehow, enemies or something – " Only she would have told him, she would have found a way to tell the man she loved; the thought occurred Gina before she read it in his head. Seeing it there was just a confirmation for her.

And it was all getting too complex, far beyond a thirteen-year-old girl, far beyond an adult man, in fact. "Gina, honey, this isn't something you need to worry about," he said.

"It's just for grownups?" said Gina, and he stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her, and she stopped and looked back, and he saw that she was going to be stubborn about it; she wanted to be included.

"It's not something you should have to deal with at your age," he said.

"I'm thirteen," she reminded him.

"And that makes you all grown up?" he said, and she gave him an indignant and impatient look.

"I would trust Gina more than many adults," said Sofi, on their porch; Jared hadn't realized that he and Gina and their Voices had gotten loud enough to attract her attention.

"It's not a matter of trusting her," said Jared, "which I do. Which you know," he said to Gina. "It's that I seem to be dragging her into matters she shouldn't have to cope with yet."

"When you were thirteen," said Gina, catching something, although she couldn't see it clearly, and he shook his head.

"Bad example," he said. "You are, thank heaven, living an entirely different life. And I want to see it stay that way."

"Too late," said Sofi. "She seems already to be involved in these matters you do not want her to cope with. She will have to learn how, that is all. You do," she added, "intend to let us be involved also, do you not? So we will all cope together; we will help one another. You cannot protect her entirely." She glanced at the tomato on the napkin. "You have brought lunch for the fly?" she said.

"Cara sent it."

Sofi twitched her tail, but she only said, "More than is deserved," and opened the door for them.

Usually Jared and Issio visited the fly together, but today Issio was out doing the shopping, to make sure Sofi didn't overextend herself. And that worked for Jared, who had something in mind. Issio and Sofi were both a little critical of how he took his Ears for granted, how he didn't bother to train, as Issio and Sofi had both done in their youth, as Gina was doing now. They were right that he failed to take his Ears seriously. They worked and he used them, or they didn't work and he went on without them, and he didn't think much about them. But most of the time they worked when he wanted them, except, perhaps, on Cara – and he had never been able to read Maud either, which was another matter, one he did not want to explore at the moment. And he had never tried them on an animal.

He had certainly never tried them on an insect.

And he wasn't sure that he could, and he didn't want any witnesses if he failed, which he thought he was very likely to do. So this was a good chance, when he and the fly had a bit of privacy, assuming he could talk Sofi and Gina out of coming downstairs with him. They weren't thrilled at being left out, but Sofi was concerned about Gina, as he was, and Gina was worried about the baby.

So alone, he sat at his ease on the stool with an elbow propped up on the Cycle Finished chute of the laundry appliance. "I've had a nice visit with the Drs. Wood," he said, and the fly settled on a twig Cara had contributed by way of furnishing for her jar and eyed him.

What's a whore like you doing with Ned Wood? He's a married man, you know. Why is he taking up with a hired boy?

"Not what you seem to be thinking," he said, amused. "Get your mind out of the gutter, lady."

That's where you live, lover boy. She sounded quite cheerful.

"I understand Dr. Lindstrom knew Dr. Ned from childhood. Dr. Louise said she met him at one of Dr. Lindstrom's lectures."

Probably wasn't Ned you were interested in. Probably Louise. She always did have a taste for a pretty young man.

"Dr. Lindstrom worked with them on Azuri/zai for many years."

Your mother was a stinking whore, just like you. Must run in your family.

"Did Louise steal your boyfriend away from you?" inquired Jared. "She must have been pretty when she was young, pretty enough to get Ned's attention, pretty enough to keep it, and all you could offer were your brains. Tough on you."

Filth! she snarled, temper awakening, and she hit the side of the jar hard, as if she would have liked to come out after him, and in that moment when she was in less than full control of herself, he reached into her mind.

He hit a barrier almost at once. He visualized the barrier between himself and Cara, himself and Maud, as a hard white smooth surface, his mind sliding off, unable to gain purchase; this barrier was different. He visualized it as grim black branches twined tightly together, studded with thorns to threaten anyone entering. There were spaces between the branches; he could see the area beyond, which was green and grassy and filled with incredible golden light, almost too bright to look upon, dazzling so that he couldn't see clearly and the spaces were so small he couldn't get a good view anyway. He grabbed the nearest branch – the sensation was just that solid, that physical; the branch was dry but tough, resisting his attempt to sway it, bend it.

Fucking meddler! she shrieked. And he was thrust out of her mind without ceremony; he found himself sitting on the stool again, as if he had been flung by force into his body, while the fly screamed at him in the purest fury at being so violated.

The basement door opened and Sofi, eyes wide, came down two steps and Jared got up quickly, went to the stairs with a hand out to prevent her from coming any further. "I made her mad," Jared told Sofi, and she looked at him dubiously and, past him, at the jar. She had a good idea, he saw, what he had been doing. He took Sofi's hand and brought her upstairs with him, closing the door behind him, muffling the voice of the fly. Gina was sitting at the breakfast bar with a glass of soda, looking at them with wide eyes.

"So," said Sofi, getting down to it. "You could not enter her mind."

"No," said Jared. "I couldn't. There was – a barricade." He thought of it, dark threatening tangled branches; he thought of fairy tales, of sleeping princesses in castles guarded by thorns. He had no sense that these brambles protected a princess. He thought it was more likely a witch, although a bright golden witch, which wasn't what he had expected. He felt Sofi and Gina both brush at his mind and he let them in to see; Sofi studied what she found with attention.

"You are stronger than I knew, even untrained," she said. "She protects herself; she knows she needs to do that. She knows something of us. And I am interested in the form of the protection, also what you could see beyond the barrier. I wonder if Issio and I should try."

That was a thought that Jared found actually frightening. "Not you," he said. He sat down where he could see her face: she flipped her tail with amused irritation. "You shouldn't have even gone down into the basement," he said, "and I hope we don't have to lock the door to make sure of it, but you have to stay out of there. I am more and more convinced she is dangerous. And you too," he said to Gina.

"I was alarmed at the screaming," said Sofi. "But – you need not tell Issio; I do not mind if he worries." Her green eyes had a mischievous glint. "But you must not think I would otherwise go near her. I do not believe she can harm me. Still, I do not care to expose my child to her." She put her hand protectively over her abdomen, which now showed just the least sign of roundness; Evvie said Sofi was well into the fourth month of the Zamuaon nine-month gestation period. "She will not understand the language," said Sofi, "but she does feel the anger, also the violence. It agitates her."

"Her?" Sofi gave him a look of shy happiness and nodded, and he smiled at her, pleased at the picture of his friends and their little daughter. They were hopeful; Clena and Evvie were hopeful. Sofi had not proceeded so far in her past two pregnancies. "Can you tell how well she's doing?" he asked.

"She is very young," said Sofi, "but very healthy. I think it goes well."

"I’m glad," said Jared, relieved, "and now if you and your daughter will just stay out of the basement – and that goes for you, too, honey; I don't care how old you are."

Gina was contemplating the image of the thorny barricade. "I don't understand that," she said.

"Nor do I. But I shall not do anything to upset the creature," said Sofi. "I will get us coffee," she said, and when he moved to go get it for her, she waved a claw at him. "I am not helpless," she said. "Sit!" So he sat, not being foolhardy.