Season of Passage, The (7 page)

having a baby on Mars. Oh, but she liked how he rubbed her there, right there...

'Terry. Terry, wait a second.'

'Huh?' He glanced up from his four-handed exploration of her body. Lauren took the opportunity to try to pul up her pants, but rol ed off the seat and

fel on the floor, where she ended up straddling the stick shift. Terry peered at her in the moonlight. 'What are you doing down there?' he asked.

'I was talking about the Antabolene. They told me to throw away this month's pil s.'

'And you did what they said?'

'Of course.'

'I read once the odds are no better than a hundred to one. For doing it just once, that is.'

'It depends on the time of the month.'

'I was speaking of averages,' he said.

Lauren crawled onto the seat and playful y shoved him away. 'I've always defied the odds.'

Terry sighed. 'Now I'l never be able to get to sleep.'

'We'l go for a walk and burn off the energy.'

He tugged at her pants. 'That never works. Now a hundred to one, those are pretty good odds.'

Lauren opened the car door and slipped from reach. 'We'l take a long walk,' she said sweetly.

'Damn. Do I get a rain check?'

'In two years I'l give you Master Charge.'

Later they strol ed along the shore of the lake, the same shore she had raced over earlier. The night was cool but pleasant. An idyl ic breeze rustled

the forest. The moon sparkled on the rippling water. They walked slowly, saying little. Lauren derived much contentment from the simple act of

holding his hand. Only when they reached the stream did they pause. Lauren took off her shoes and dipped a toe.

'It's cold,' she said.

'The whole lake is,' Terry said.

'I know.' Lauren let go his hand and rol ed up her pants to her knees. 'This evening I went swimming way out. It was fun. Hey, Terry, let's cross over to

the other side.'

'Don't you remember what happened last time?'

'I promise I won't slip,' she said.

'Sure. I think it's unnatural for a modern man to take off his shoes when he's outside. Go ahead if you want, but I'm staying here.'

Lauren stepped into the icy current, feeling marble-smooth stones beneath her feet. The stream was colder than the lake. Quickly her toes turned

numb. She hurried across and climbed onto a boulder. Terry sat on a big rock across from her.

'How was Houston?' she asked, squeezing her feet in her hands, trying to warm them.

'Not bad. But I hated to leave here when we have such little time together left. Tom's been kind of bugging me lately. He wants me to write an article

about the reporters who cover the astronauts.'

'An article on him?' Lauren asked.

'I think so. What did you do while I was gone?'

'Talked to Jenny. Went for long walks. Waited for you to

come back.' She listened for a moment to the breeze in the trees the lapping of the water on the sand. 'It's so peaceful here,' she whispered.

'Yes. I'm glad they don't launch the shuttle here.'

'Terry? Did you hear what Daniel said? About a girl drowning in the lake last week?'

Terry showed interest. 'No. Who was it?'

'I don't know. Daniel said she was his age. He figured she swam out too far and got cramps.'

'Let that be a warning to you. Was Jenny there when he said this?'

'Yes. Why?'

'I want her to be careful swimming alone when you're gone.'

'She never goes out far,' Lauren said.

'Stil . I wonder who the kid was. It could be the Jeffersons' little girl. Christ, I hope it wasn't her.'

'Maybe the girl's family was just passing through,' Lauren said.

'Al the same, it's a shame.'

'Yeah,' Lauren agreed. On that note their conversation faltered. She stil carried her white rose, and fingered it gently while she looked up at the

moon. Suddenly, for no reason, she began to feel smal and frail. The moon was bright, but the darkness beyond it - it went on forever. And there

she was going.

Where it's always cold. Where there's no fire.

Lauren shook her head. She didn't know why her mind was suddenly infatuated with the thought of fire. She had been thinking about it ever since

her nightmare.

Her toes were stil cold. She stood and threw her white rose in the stream and watched as the lake swal owed it. 'Let's get out of here,' she said.

'Let's go see how Jenny's doing.'

They found Jennifer unconscious on the couch, her face buried beneath her long blond hair.

'She must have been waiting up for us,' Terry said, closing the door careful y.

'The poor dear,' Lauren said. She crossed to the couch and smoothed Jennifer's hair from her face. Her sister didn't stir. Jennifer's breathing was

faint, which Lauren knew from experience to be normal for her. Yet Jennifer frowned as she slept, as if something troubled her in her sleep. Lauren

noticed the red book on the floor beside the couch and picked it up. Then she frowned. She strode to where Terry stood.

'Some love story,' Lauren said sarcastical y, showing him the title of the book.

'Is that what she told you she was reading?'

'Yes. Why would she lie to me?'

'She probably thought you wouldn't approve,' Terry said.

'I don't.'

'What does it matter? It's only a book.'

'I think it's garbage,' Lauren said. She glanced at her sister, bundled up in one of her own sweaters, and felt a stab of guilt at having left her alone.

'Terry? Would it be OK if I slept on the couch with Jenny?'

Terry grinned. 'You don't believe our walk burned off enough energy?'

Lauren leaned over and kissed him. 'I'm sure it improved our odds. But no, I just feel I should be with her.'

He hugged her. 'That's fine.'

'You don't mind?'

'Of course not. When we get married, we'l have to have a daughter like her.'

Lauren hugged him hard. 'If that's possible.'

'She is one of a kind.' He released her slowly. 'So are you. Thanks, Lauren.'

'For what?'

'The last two years.'

She felt tears coming, and was embarrassed, for she wasn't ordinarily a sentimental person. She turned quickly away lest he see her crying.

'Sweet dreams,' he said at her back, a trace of puzzlement, perhaps sadness, in his voice. 'Catch you early.'

She wiped at her eyes. 'Yeah.'

He was only a few minutes in the bathroom, and then disappeared into the bedroom. Lauren brushed her teeth quickly, and fetched an extra blanket

and pil ow from the closet. She was on the verge of lying down beside her sister when she noticed again the red-covered book. Jennifer's eyes

were closed, but behind them Lauren thought she saw another nightmare forming.

I'l tel her it got lost.

Lauren grabbed the book and tossed it in the fireplace. A bottle of lighter fluid stood nearby, and she squirted a generous amount over the book

cover. A touch of her match and the pages went up in flames. She sat patiently until the book was hard to tel from the rest of the ash. Then, final y,

she stirred the whole mess with a black metal prod, satisfied. The author's imaginative universe would not be coming back to haunt her sister.

Lauren took the pil ow and blanket and settled on the couch. She fel asleep with her arms wrapped around Jennifer.

SIX

Professor James Ranoth sat at his desk on the third story of the isolation complex. Outside his locked window, the Florida sky was turning to black

as his last night on Earth began. His room was sparse, furnished mostly with boxes of books that would soon be going into storage, and lit by a

smal lamp that had bad wiring. It flickered when he touched it. The piece of paper lying on his desk was perfectly blank. He was trying to make out

his wil .

James Ranoth had seldom thought of dying. Death had always struck him as the least of life's worries. But he was going to Mars tomorrow, and it

was best to be prepared. The problem confronting him, at present, and the reason his wil was so far blank, was that he had no family. He had been

raised an orphan and had never married. He was fifty-two, and had spent the greater part of his life in exotic countries, at archaeology digs, clawing

in dirt with his bare hands. He felt no woman deserved the life he had led. Occasional y, however, he regretted his decision to remain single,

particularly when he saw children playing in the park, running with their kites flapping in the blue sky. He had always had a special love for

innocence. Perhaps that's why he had such an interest in ancient civilizations. Humanity as a whole had been young once.

Stil , his life had few regrets, and none were painful. He had enjoyed a great deal of success. He'd published several books and won the Nobel

Prize in the recently created category - 'General Science.' People thought he knew what he was talking about. He imagined he had an abundance

of money he could leave some deserving soul in the event he did not return from Mars. There were the continuing royalties from his books, NASA's

salary he never drew upon and of course the Nobel Prize money, which had been a pretty penny. But he had only a vague idea what it al amounted

to. He had little interest in money. His bank paid his bil s automatical y and sent him a monthly al owance to live on.

Jim knew he shouldn't have left his wil to the last moment. In fact, he probably should have set up a living trust. Someone had told him they were

better than wil s. But if he had little interest in wil s, he had none in the law. Plus he had been so busy lately mastering the gadgets aboard Nova that

were his responsibility. If only NASA had granted him a couple of days' vacation, as they had Lauren. They had probably worried he would take off

to the other side of the world. He loved to travel. He'd walked across the Sahara, frozen on Antarctic beaches, and swum above the Great Barrier

Reef. He was thankful he had been given the opportunity to enjoy so much of Earth's beauty. Now, on the eve of his departure, he had but one place

he yearned to visit again. That place in the Himalayas, the massive cavern he had been led to, where he had seen the ruins of a civilization that

went back God only knew how far.

But could I find it again if I had a thousand days' vacation?

Jim didn't think so. He had already tried several times and failed. Sometimes he imagined that the cavern did not want to be found, or that it didn't

even exist; that he had only dreamed he had visited it. Yet he doubted the latter possibility. For he had returned from his subterranean journey with a

souvenir.

Jim pul ed the ring from his pocket. He seldom wore it but always kept it near. To the naked eye, it appeared quite ordinary, a plain silver band. Its

only unusual feature was its perpetual shine. It fit comfortably on his middle finger, although he seldom wore it. He had a private joke with himself

that he was waiting for the right person to give it to. He was the prince with the lost glass slipper searching for Cinderel a.

On the surface, the ring was nothing to look at, but it proved extraordinary under closer examination. It was not silver or white gold, or any other

metal known to modern man. It was too hard. He had once tried to scratch it with a diamond dril , and had ended up blunting the dril . Harsh acids

failed to chemical y bond with the metal, and he had tried them al . More impressive, a ruby laser at the University of Houston that had the power to

start nuclear fusion had failed to melt it.

Then there was the ring's symmetry. He had scrutinized it under an electron microscope and had the results analyzed by a computer. He found it to

be a perfect circle, a circle so perfect that it went beyond the instruments' ability to detect a flaw.

Jim had never al owed other scientists to examine it. He wondered if he was afraid they would discover it wasn't so mysterious, after al . Yet he

doubted that that would happen. He was no fool when it came to operating the equipment he had used on the ring. And there was another reason:

the thought of someone else touching the ring - besides his Cinderel a - fil ed him with distaste.

No, its phenomenal hardness and symmetry were a fact. As was the place where he had found it, at least three miles under the highest mountain

range in the world. Jim knew that the ring had not been fashioned by modern man. Sometimes he thought that it hadn't been made by man at al .

There was a knock at his door. Jim slipped the ring in his shirt pocket. 'Come in, Lauren,' he said.

'You must have X-ray eyes. How did you know it was me?'

Lauren closed the door and walked over and sat on his bed. She wore a blue blouse, and a white skirt that swept an inch below her knees. She

looked tan and healthy, not like an astronaut who had been cooped up in isolation for ten days and fed a diet of raw fruit and vegetables. In

preparation for their long slumber, they had been put on a cleansing fast. Lauren had lost five pounds. Jim had lost only one. He had stashed away

six bags of chocolate chip cookies in his closet. When Lauren had weighed him that morning, she had raised a suspicious eyebrow. He'd only

smiled. He thought the doctors were wrong about sugar being unhealthy. It tasted too good.

'Only you or Gary would visit this late,' he said. 'And Gary never knocks.' Major Gary Wheeler was the pilot of the mission.

'He bolted in on me this morning while I was in the shower,' Lauren said. 'He had nothing on but a towel. I acted as if nothing was the matter. I think

he was insulted. He mumbled something about being out of toothpaste and left.'

'Sounds like our Gary.' Jim knew Lauren had come for a reason. 'Have you heard any word on when the man is supposed to arrive?'

'The man' was the President of the United States.