Mutant Star (15 page)

“You’re asking for trouble,” Skerry said.

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not. But I do understand him, Teenie. Better than you do. Believe me.”

Father and daughter locked eyes. Alanna set her jaw obstinately.

“I’m not asking permission, Dad. I don’t have to. I’m of age.” She tossed her head defiantly. “I’m telling you what I’m planning to do. We’re going to get a place together in the city. Whether you like it or not.”

She paused, waiting for him to erupt.

Skerry stared at her as though thunderstruck. Then he started to laugh.

“If I had any doubts that you’re my daughter—and I don’t—that certainly would have settled them.” He chuckled ruefully. “Well, we raised you to be independent. Maybe we did too good a job.”

“Alanna,” Narlydda said. “We have good reasons for being concerned.”

“Such as?”

Instead of answering her, her mother and father looked at each other. No one spoke.

“There. I knew it,” Alanna said. “You just don’t like him. But give him a chance. If you got to know him, you’d see how kind and gentle he really is. How wounded by being a null. I want to help him, to heal him.” She paused. “You think I don’t see how troubled he is. I do. But I don’t want to run from him. I want to run to him.”

Her mother smiled. “That’s love, as I remember it.”

Skerry said nothing. He reached for his drink.

The phone chimed.

“I’ll get it.” Alanna sped into her old room and activated the screen.

Rick’s image filled the screen.

“Hi,” he said.

“Oh, Rick. You won’t believe …”

“I recorded this for you because I’ve got to catch the shuttle. I’m going out of town for a couple of days. Probably be back next week. So I can’t make it Friday. Sorry. Call you when I get back.” The image faded.

Where was he going? To see whom? Why hadn’t he told her before?

Narlydda appeared in the doorway. “Who was it?”

“Rick. A recorded message. He’s going out of town. He can’t see me this weekend.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No.”

“I see.” Narlydda paused as though searching for words. “Look,” she said finally. “Why don’t you come out to the foundry with me this afternoon?”

“The foundry?” Alanna turned away before her mother could see her tears. “Yeah, okay.” Her control held, held, then failed. “Oh, Mom. What if he doesn’t call me when he gets back?”

“Don’t worry, he will.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Alanna sobbed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Narlydda’s tone was surprisingly gentle. “I can’t deny that I’d prefer it if you were with somebody else. But if Rick is what makes you happy, well, I want you to be happy. More than anything.” She gave Alanna a quick hug. “He’ll call. And if he doesn’t, I’ll hunt him down and skin him with my palette knife. Now hurry up and get ready.”

***

The silver skimmer moved smoothly along the highway. Rick watched the snow-covered landscape whoosh past the window and shivered. He had forgotten about early spring in Colorado. Cold.

“It’s good to see you,” Kelly said. Her dark hair was glossy, her skin smooth aside from the telltale crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. “I admit, I’m surprised.”

“Yeah, well, I needed to get away.” Rick looked out at the snowy mountains and wondered if Denver had been the right place to run to. Although he liked Kelly and Michael, he hadn’t seen them in years. Sitting in their skimmer, he felt a bit awkward now.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No.” He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Can you give me the abridged version? I pick Mari up at hockey practice in ten minutes.”

“Might take longer than that.”

“Let me have a hint, at least?”

“It’s mutant business.”

Kelly frowned. “I remember the trouble your mother had being a null. I’d hoped it would be easier for you.”

“Being a null was easy in my family.” Or so I thought. He paused. “How did Mari learn to control her pyrokinesis?”

“Well, she’s only a demitalent,” Kelly said. “For which we’re all grateful. But we’ve got a state of the art fire-extinguishing system in the house with sprinklers and special ports in every room. I didn’t think we—or the house—would make it through her first two years. I can only imagine what would have happened if she’d been a full mutant.” Kelly shook her head. “As it was, we had to call in the healers when she was an infant, just to keep her from setting her crib on fire.”

“Does she ever lose control?”

Kelly shot a quick, questioning look at him. “No, of course not.”

“But she’s so young.”

“The healers taught her well,” Kelly said. “And talk about irony! I picked up a recessive mutant gene from some ancestor—nobody knows who—and Mari is the lucky recipient of three-fourths mutant power. Otherwise, I imagine she’d have been a null, like you.”

“Maybe not like me.” Rick gazed gloomily at the snow.

“Rick, you sound cryptic as hell.” Kelly frowned. She turned the skimmer onto an exit ramp marked Cherryhurst. “Here’s the gym. We’re early. I don’t think they’re finished with practice yet.”

The arena was large, with five levels of seats encircling the central playing field. On the ice, girls sped back and forth, clutching clear acrylic sticks that looked like elongated boomerangs. Each stick glowed faintly with its own repulsor field.

“There’s Mari.”

A small, dark-haired girl in a red stretch jumpsuit worried a low-g puck down the ice, away from the main pack.

“As usual, she’s not watching where she’s going,” Kelly said. Then she leaned forward. “She’s heading right for that zamboni.”

Rick watched as the large mech bore down on the girl.

“Mari! Mari, watch out!” Kelly called. But her voice was drowned out in the noisy echoes of the other players.

Rick tensed. Should he try a telekinetic blast to push the mech away? Try to levitate Mari? Leap to the ice and grab her?

A shrill whistle split the air and a woman in a green coaching jersey raced toward Mari. The girl looked up, saw the mech, and her eyes grew huge in terror. But the woman seized her by the arm and dragged her out of the machine’s path.

“Whew.” Kelly closed her eyes. “Close.”

“Too close,” Rick said. “Couldn’t she have melted the mech?”

“I don’t think she’s strong enough. Let’s go get her before she has another chance to get hurt.”

***

The Ryton homestead was in the foothills of the mountains ringing Denver. It was far more elaborate than Rick had remembered—four buildings including a guest house and gym. Rick stared at his temporary quarters with envy. Smooth blond wood and plump yellow wallcushions. The wallscreen was new. Michael and Kelly were doing well.

He dropped his satchel on the shelf at the foot of his bed and sat down on the red woven bedcover.

I should have tried to save Mari, he thought. I could have pushed that mech out of the way with telekinesis. But I don’t know if my power is reliable, or even how to aim it, really. So instead, I just sat there, watching. I could have sat there and watched Mari be crushed to death.

He gazed up through the skylight. Heavy gray clouds were massing and the room was growing dark.

Light, he thought.

The room stayed dark.

Hmm. Not as easy as he had thought.

He squinted through the gloom until he located the wall switch. He frowned, imagined pressing it, and the bed lamp came on.

Good. What next? Unpack.

He looked at his satchel. The seals opened with a hiss. Shirts and jeans floated up, arms and legs billowing in midair. Next, Rick looked at the closet. His clothing fell to the floor in a heap.

Shit. Concentrate on putting the clothing in the closet, he thought.

He stared at the closet. The closet doors swung wide and began to pull away out of their hinges.

No. No. Stop. Put it back the way it was before.

The doors shut with a slam. Rick sighed, bent down, and picked up his jeans. He opened the closet door by hand and placed his clothing on the hooks jutting from the center rod. Telekinesis was harder to handle than he had thought.

He sent his shower bag sailing across the room. It crashed into the wall just to the right of the bathroom door.

Better work on aim, too.

I wonder why he came.

The mindspeech was as clear as though it came from the same room. It was Kelly’s voice. But she was a normal. So he was reading her thoughts. Rick shuddered.

Something’s wrong. I can sense it. Why won’t he talk about it?
Does Melanie know? Maybe I’d better call her.

Stop, Rick thought. Please stop it.

He’s always been such a troubled kid
…

Rick grabbed his Jacket. Maybe the cold air would cut off this unwanted clairaudient link. A hard walk in the cold.

The cold air stung his skin. He resealed his blue coat. A path led back and down, around the gym and away from the compound toward a grove of pines.

Rick came around the building to see Mari balanced on a low-g skiboard in the yard behind the gym. He watched her moving gracefully as the board bobbed and skidded over the uneven track. But he ducked out of sight around the building before she could see him.

The trees grew denser and denser, and the path began to slant uphill. He climbed until his lungs hurt, until the path gave out. He was alone in the silence, in the pine-scented air.

He walked on, until the quiet began to make him nervous. All he heard was the sound of the snow crunching underfoot. How far back was the path? He couldn’t see it. He was lost in the woods somewhere outside Denver.

Panicky now, he gave himself a telekinetic boost and leaped into the air. He saw the Ryton compound, downslope and far away, to his left. But his telekinetic power wavered, and he came crashing down before he had seen a clear path. Taking a deep breath, he summoned his newfound mutant skill again and sped upward. But he miscalculated and sent himself rocketing up, up, and over the treetops. He came down near the gymnasium, landing hard.

“Rick!” Mari looked up in astonishment. “What happened?” She dropped her ski poles and hurried to his side. “Were you levitating? I thought you were a null.”

Icy chill crept through Rick’s jacket as he gasped for breath. He lay there, squinting up at the cold white sky, feeling foolish.

“Take it slow,” Mari said. “Breathe slowly.”

Rick pulled himself up to a kneeling position and looked up sheepishly at his cousin. He saw that her blue eyes were overlaid with a pure golden sheen. Not like his. Not like a true mutant. “I’m not a null,” he said slowly. “Not anymore.”

***

“I wish you’d let me buy you a proper lunch,” Ethan Hawkins said. He sat on a bench near the campus bell tower and watched Eva Seguy finish her felafel roll.

“Mmm. Good.” She licked her fingers. “I thought it would be more interesting to munch al fresco. Get some fresh air. Besides, you haven’t told me why you suddenly decided to rescue my research program.”

“Is that why you agreed to have lunch with me?”

“Partially.”

Hawkins gave her his standard answer. “Universities have to keep moving and growing.” He smiled suavely: Don Giovanni talking to Zerlina. “And growth calls for investment. As far as I’m concerned, investment is good business.”

“Bullshit.” Eva Seguy gave him a shrewd look. “You could find a dozen better investments in a minute. Supporting academic programs gives you very little return on your dollar. Oh, I suppose it’s tax deductible. But I don’t think that’s what you’re after.”

Hawkins stared at her, nonplussed.

“And don’t think me ungrateful, Colonel. I’ll be honest. I was desperate for your support. But I’m not clear about why you’re giving it. What is it you want, Colonel?”

“I don’t think I’ve met a woman like you since I was in the Shuttle Corps,” Hawkins said. “You just say what you think.”

“Whenever I can. But if this means you’ll cancel your patronage, I take it all back.”

Hawkins began laughing. “No, don’t take anything back, Eva. It’s my turn to be blunt. I need mutants to help me build my pavilions in space. And I saw this program as one way to reach them.”

“A long shot.”

“Yes. But I have to work around unions, you see.”

“You don’t give a damn about the research, then.”

“I didn’t. Until I took that flare ride. But that changed everything.” Hawkins paused. He could still see the splendor of that pavilion whirling in space. And he could feel the pleasure of holding Eva Seguy in his arms at that gaudy celebration. It would come to pass. He knew it would. “You have a true believer before you. A convert. Those flares can foretell the future. I’d be a fool not to be interested in that.”

“Hold on, Colonel.”

“Ethan.”