Mutant Star (24 page)

“Yes. They said it’s necessary. I asked to be the one to tell him myself.”

“But you haven’t told him yet, have you?”

Melanie pressed against the pendant again and closed her eyes. “Not yet. I haven’t even told Julian.”

“What are you waiting for?”

She opened her eyes, met his gaze. “I wanted you to know about it first.”

Yosh had grown accustomed to her eyes, to the mutant sheen of gold, so different from the blue contact lenses she had worn when first they’d met. Back then, she had been eager to hide her mutancy. There had been no thought of children, of artificial insemination. The world had been smaller, somehow, and brighter. He was so tired now. Had he ever been tired then?

“I’m glad you waited,” he said, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

“But you’re upset.”

“Of course I am,” Yosh said. “It’s much easier to have the sperm donor be some abstract, anonymous figure. This complicates so many things, so many lives. Must we tell Narlydda and Skerry?”

“I’m afraid so. Skerry has to be tested to make sure there’s not an error in the records. After all, they have to know if he really is the father. They’ve never seen anything like Rick before. Skerry’s genes are crucial to their investigations. And if I don’t tell him, Rita Saiken will. Besides, there’s another angle involved in this.” She paused, and her eyes glistened with tears. “Rick and Alanna. They’re living together on Hawkins’s Pavilion. Yosh, they’re brother and sister. What choice do we have? Skerry has to be told. And the kids.” She shook her head. “Poor Rick.”

“How do you think he’ll take it?”

“I don’t know; I don’t want to know.” Her voice broke, and she rested her head in her hands. So much for talismans.

Yosh moved around the ring seat until he was next to her. Gently he took her into his arms and cradled her against his shoulder as she sobbed. “Shhh,” he said, half humming to himself. “It’ll be all right.”

“How can we tell them?”

“We’ll find a way,” Josh said, putting confidence into his voice that he didn’t feel. “We’ll find a way. But let’s call Julian first.”

***

Julian was tired of dust. Tired of sifting through earthquake debris for any sign of survivors. His parents had begged him to come home but he had shrugged off their pleas and signed on with the Berkeley rescue squads, thinking that his telepathic powers would be useful in locating trapped survivors. Now, a week later, he was tired, demoralized, and lonely. He had helped carry too many lifeless bodies. Seen too many lives and homes destroyed. Although strong, the quake had “bounced,” sparing much of the surrounding communities while shock waves dissipated into the sea. San Francisco had suffered a few broken windows and water mains. Minor damage. But Berkeley and Oakland had not been as lucky. Slowly the cities were regrouping. Work crews were already rewiring, replastering, planning to rebuild. But it would all take time.

The message light on Julian’s homescreen blinked weakly: its auxiliary power source was almost depleted. Julian flicked on the screen, boosting the volume. There was no picture, but he heard Eva’s voice faintly. “Julian, I’ve gone out of town. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Look, I’m sorry to do this. But I’ve just got to get away. I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

Eva had abandoned the lab? Abandoned him? How could she do that? Where had she gone? And when she got back, what would become of them? Anger and dismay welled up inside him until he wanted to put his fist through the screen.

Get out of here, he thought. Go to the lab. Clean up. Do something.

In fifteen minutes he was standing in the doorway of what had been the Flare Project lab. Inside, Hugh Dalheim, the psychology department head, was talking to a workman as a crew of mechs repaired the electrical system. Overhead lamps flared on and off like old-fashioned theatrical lightning.

Dalheim bustled over. He wore a University Quake Squad armband and headgear. “Julian. Eva here?”

“No.”

“When will she return?”

“I don’t know.”

Dalheim squinted at him, fishlike, through the domes of his safety goggles. “You mean she left you here to pick up the pieces?”

“No, not really. She’ll be back soon.”

“Good. Tell her I’m reassigning this space to Henderson’s chimps. Once it’s repaired, of course.”

“But that will destroy the Flare Project. And my dissertation—”

Dalheim’s expression was pitying. “Son, I’m sorry. But you can see that the lab’s no use to Eva as is. We can’t afford to replace her equipment. Henderson is much more cost-efficient.” He paused. “Look, I’ll tell you what. Come see me in a month or so and I’ll put in a good word for you with Ron Henderson. I know he’ll be looking for bright grad students.” A shower of dust and plaster particles rained down, accumulating on Julian’s head and shoulders. “And get some safety gear if you intend to hang around here.” Dalheim moved on out the door.

“Thanks.” Julian brushed the dust from his shirt. Dully, he watched the mechs at work in the lab—Henderson’s lab. There was nothing left for him to do here.

He walked slowly back to his apartment, head down. The electricity had been restored. Maybe he had overlooked something to eat in the pantry.

A message blinked, red against yellow, on his screen.

Come home. URGENT.

No arguing with that. And Julian didn’t want to argue. He felt as though he had stayed in Berkeley too long already.

He packed quickly and hurried down to the bullet train station. Three hours later he walked into his parents’ house in Westwood.

His mother was sitting by the atrium window in the kitchen, staring out blindly at the pink and yellow hibiscus blossoms. Her eyes were red, puffy. She gave him a watery smile.

“Sit down, Julian.” His father leaned against the counter, arms folded.”

“What’s wrong?”

An impenetrable look passed between his parents.

“It’s Rick, isn’t it?” Julian said.

“No,” Yosh said. “As far as we know, your brother is fine.”

“Then what?”

“It’s your father …” Yosh said.

Julian gazed at him, baffled. “You’re my father.”

“Not really. You know that.”

“You mean—”

Melanie sat up, jaw set. “Quite unexpectedly we’ve learned who your biological father is. Do you want to know?”

“My biological father?” Curiosity surged through him. “Yes, of course. Tell me!”

His mother hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?” Julian said. “Is he Jack the Ripper?”

Yosh nearly smiled. “Not quite.”

“It’s Skerry,” Melanie said. “Skerry is your father.”

Julian chuckled. “Very funny. Now who is it, really?” Then he stopped chuckling. Yosh was pacing the length of the kitchen, head down. Melanie was staring at Julian, her lips were trembling.

“It can’t be Skerry,” he said.

“We have proof.”

“Proof? What proof?” He leaped to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Blood analyses. Genetic markers.”

“I thought those records were all destroyed in a fire, years ago.”

“They were. But a healer took a tissue sample from your brother on Hawkins’s Pavilion and ran a full battery of tests, then used the Mutant Council Genetic Net to come up with the match.”

“A healer took a sample from Rick? Why?”

“He was overextending his talents and collapsed.”

“Now I’m really confused.” Julian felt suddenly lightheaded. He sat down next to his mother.

“You’re not alone,” Melanie said. “And it seems that your brother really has become operant. He’s a multitalent.”

“My God.” Everything was happening too fast. Rick a multi? Was that what all those strange flare visions were about, Rick’s change from null to multi? It made sense, in a way. But how could Skerry be his and Rick’s father? Julian gazed around the familiar room as though he’d never seen it before. Yosh was his father. Yosh had taught him how to skip and play notes on the claviflute. He’d taken him to school, to the doctor. Had provided comfort and discipline. Humor. Love. That was more important than any blood analysis, wasn’t it? Julian drew a deep breath.

Then he thought of Alanna.

“Have you told Skerry or Narlydda?” he asked.

“We thought you should know first,” Melanie said. “How do you feel?”

“Weird. I never had much to do with Skerry. He always seemed kind of crazy to me. Still does.” Julian shook his head. “I guess it’ll take a while to sink in.”

Melanie smiled weakly. “Maybe later you’ll want to get to know him.”

“Maybe.”

“Mel, you’ve got to try to call Rick again,” Yosh said. “I think he’ll have more trouble with this than Julian.”

“I know,” Melanie said. “I’ve sent a message. No response, so far.”

“I’ll go.”

“No, Julian. It’s not your place …”

“Why not?”

“There’s your doctorate.”

“My doctorate’s on hold.” And so is the rest of my life. “Maybe Ethan Hawkins has a use for me, too.”

“Don’t make a joke out of this.”

He took his mother’s hand. “Mom, I know you want to crucify yourself, but I’m not going to let you do it. I think I should tell Rick. At least let me try.”

Yosh started to slip out of the room.

“Dad, where are you going?”

“I thought maybe you and your mother should discuss this …”

“This concerns the entire family. And we are family. You are my father. I don’t give a damn what genetic contribution somebody else made twenty-five years ago. I love you.”

Yosh’s face softened into a smile.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

“And it’s settled. I’ll get a flight up to Hawkins’s Pavilion and break the news to Rick.”

“What about Alanna?” Melanie said.

“What about her?”

“We think Alanna is with Rick. And she’ll have to be told as well.”

“Oh. Of course.” Julian began to regret his hasty offer. But there was no going back now. “Okay. Two birds with one rock.”

Yosh nodded. “Yes. So be very careful how you throw it.”

“And wish us luck,” Melanie said.

“Sure, Mom. Why?”

“We’re the ones who have to tell Narlydda and Skerry.”

***

Alanna fluttered around Rick, fluffing his pillow. “Want a glass of juice? How do you feel? Can I get you anything?” It was her fifth offer in fifteen minutes.

“Will you knock it off!” he said. “Stop treating me like I’m some invalid.”

Her glance was reproachful. “Colonel Hawkins asked me to take care of you. You were really sick. I thought you’d die. Oh, Rick, it was so frightening.”

“Come here.” He patted the bed beside him. “Come on.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she slid into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Really.” He kissed her. “See?”

“But you were unconscious for so long.”

“Well, I’m conscious now. And since I am …” He unsealed her red tunic and began to kiss her gently. Then less gently.

She sighed happily beneath him. And vanished. The rest of the room went with her.

Rick was staring into the black depths of space again. But I have no pressure suit on, he thought. I’ll suffocate. Freeze.

“Why are you breathing like that?”

Alanna sat up in bed and stared at him suspiciously.

“It’s nothing.” He nearly gasped with relief. But it wouldn’t do to tell Alanna that he’d just popped away for a quick vision. Not yet. She might be frightened.

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I knew you didn’t feel well.”

“Then make me feel better.”

He drew her back down beside him and concentrated on pure physical pleasure, fighting off marauding visions. Eventually Alanna fell into an exhausted sleep.

He stroked her dark hair and watched her for a moment.

I love you, he thought. I want to give you everything you desire. And more.

And as he lay there with her in his arms, Rick understood what the visions meant. He knew, suddenly, that he could make the future happen just as he wanted. In fact, he would be foolish not to use his new talents to benefit himself. And her.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he whispered. “I’ll take good care of all of us.”

He crawled out of bed, pulled on gray leggings and an electric green shirt, and took the tube down to the observation deck. The Earth was visible through the window wall. It looked like a blue and white cell under a giant microscope. And upon the surface of that cell moved people walking in sunlight or night’s shadow. He began to long for a blue sky above and terra firma below.

The more Rick thought of Earth, the more nostalgic he became. To be walking along the shore near Santa Cruz on a warm day when the wind was soft, scattering sand in random patterns before him, would be delightful.