Nancy Kress (17 page)

“Oh, no, Mike’s fine,” Madison said, still not looking at her.

Jason said, “He’s still in the showers. He was going in when I was coming out.”

From Sajelle: “You’ll see him in class. Right after breakfast.”

Breakfast? Lillie said, “But… but you were all going into breakfast when I went into the hospital.” A memory tugged at her, something strange and monstrous … it was gone. “Pam, did you cure me that fast?”

Pam laughed. Madison said, “She doesn’t realize! Lillie, you’ve been gone ten days!”

Ten days.

Pam saw her face. “It’s all right, Lillie,” she said reassuringly. “It just took that long to remove every trace of the virus from your body. But you’re fine.”

Madison added, “And Emily’s going to help you catch up on what you missed in class.”

Ten days.

Lillie said slowly, “I’d like a shower, too. Before breakfast.”

Pam laughed again. “Lillie, we returned you perfectly clean!”

“I’d like one anyway. Sajelle, you, too?” She caught and held Sajelle’s eye.

Sajelle understood. “That’s where I was going. I’m grubby as hell.”

“Well, be quick,” Pam said. “Class starts soon. Lillie, we’re so glad to have you back.”

She left, trailed by everyone except Sajelle. It seemed to Lillie that they were all very eager to leave.

She and Sajelle walked to the showers, undressed, stuffed their clothing into the instant-cleaning slot. Lillie turned on the water hard and said quietly to Sajelle, “What’s going on?”

Sajelle said uncomfortably, “Nothing going on.”

“Sajelle, please. I need to know.”

Sajelle scrubbed herself vigorously, her eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. “You been gone ten days, Lillie. Every day Pam and Pete say you doing fine. And you sure look fine now. But while you gone …”

“What?”

“You going to know anyway, I guess,” Sajelle said resignedly. “Mike took up with Sophie. They sleeping together.”

Such a sharp pain went through her that Lillie was astonished. It actually felt like a physical piercing.

Sajelle said, “I’m sorry, baby. He’s just no good.”

Lillie said mechanically, “Yes, he is.” And then, in anguish, “He couldn’t wait for me?”

“Guess not. Aw, Lillie, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” And she wasn’t. She didn’t feel at all close to tears. Just that sharp, breath-stealing pain in her chest.

Sajelle said, with a transparent effort to distract here, “What did you see in the pribir hospital?”

“Nothing.” Only there was a memory, a glimpse of … gone.”

“You out the whole time, then?”

“Yes.”

“We’re glad to have you back, girl.”

“Yes.”

Sajelle shut off the water. “Come on, Lillie. Let’s go. You need to eat. He isn’t worth it, baby. Get dressed.”

Lillie couldn’t eat. She put a few spoonfuls of food into her mouth, but the action was as mechanical as dressing had been. She followed Sajelle to class, let Sajelle seat her at a table with herself, Alex, and Bonnie. They were all self-consciously enthusiastic about her return.

At a far table, Mike held hands with Sophie.

It doesn’t stop,
Lillie marveled. The pain in her chest didn’t lessen or increase, it just went on at the same level, swamping everything else. In class Lillie couldn’t handle any of the equipment. She just sat, hands folded in her lap, while the images Pete was smelling to them formed, unheeded, in her mind. Pam frowned at her in concern.

It went on the same all day. Every once in a while Lillie thought,
I’m still breathing.
It was an abstract thought, without force. Mike didn’t care if she was breathing or not. So neither did she.

After dinner she went to her room instead of to the garden with the others. She sat on the edge of her bed with her hands folded in her lap, staring at nothing. Sajelle and Rebecca came in.

Rebecca said, “Lillie, you have to stop this.”

Sajelle snapped, “You ever had your heart broke, Becky? I don’t think so.”

“But look at her! Lillie, you’re not… you’re barely …”

Yes,
Lillie thought, but said nothing.

Rebecca started to chatter desperately. “Well, at least let me tell you what’s been going on while you were gone, Lillie. You won’t believe it! Jason—you know he tomcats around, in a different bed every night, thinks he’s God’s gift to girls not in couples …” She stopped, looking stricken.

“Rebecca, you’re a fool!” Sajelle said angrily.

Lillie managed, “What about Jason?” It came out a croak.

Rebecca threw Sajelle a look of triumph. “Well! Guess who Jason finally reached in his sex tour? Elizabeth!”

Even Lillie blinked.
“Elizabeth?”

“Yes! Rebecca saw him coming out of her room one morning, real early, and Jason just winked and did a cartwheel in the hall!”

Lillie said slowly, “Is Elizabeth okay?”

“Okay? It was probably the best thing that ever happened to that uptight bitch!”

Lillie thought about that. “No. Not Elizabeth. She thinks it’s wrong.”

“Well, then why did she do it?” Rebecca demanded logically. “And anyway, she doesn’t act like she thinks it was wrong. She just goes about her usual praying and whatever.”

Lillie fumbled toward a thought. Elizabeth couldn’t just be ignoring her sex with Jason … if she’d actually had sex with Jason. Elizabeth had too much rooted in her too deeply. If Elizabeth was acting like nothing happened, it must be because … because …

She couldn’t capture the thought. The pain over Mike’s betrayal washed over her again, stronger than before, and almost she cried out.

Rebecca went on prattling. “And Rafe—you won’t fucking believe what Rafe did. Oh, here’s Emily, she can explain it better than I can, the brain. Em! Tell Lillie what Rafe did!”

Emily entered shyly, smiling at Lillie.
“Rafe.
You know how he’s been fascinated with the lawn-care machine, Lillie. Well, he snuck into the garden at night—the garden door isn’t locked, did you know that? He caught the machine and opened it by force. He says it wasn’t built out of very strong metal at all, just flimsy stuff.”

Sajelle put in shrewdly, “Nobody never expected anyone to try to take it apart.”

“That’s right,” Emily continued. “But Rafe did. And he says there’s no machinery inside, just a mass of living tissue! A blob. He figures that it’s a genetically engineered organism created to exude exactly what the lawn needs, the chemicals for it to grow plus water chemically extracted from the air. Anyway, the machine also exudes other microorganisms that eat the grass down to a certain length before they die themselves. Mowing it, sort of.”

Lillie tried to pay attention to what Emily was saying. It was hard. All she could think of was Mike. Mike with Sophie. Mike with her. He’d said, he’d promised …

“But more than that,” Emily said. “Rafe has a theory. He thinks that nearly everything aboard the
Flyer
may be organic, genetically engineered. Not the walls, maybe — “

A wall opening, where there was no door … the image slipped away.

Mike with Sophie. Mike with her. He’d said, he’d promised …

“—but everything except the walls and some sort of ship’s drive. Rafe thinks our food is just genetically engineered molecules to match our taste buds and nutritional needs, not real veggies or pie or whatever—”

“Sam almost slugged Rafe for that one,” Sajelle said.

“Rafe thinks that our clothes are cleaned by organic molecules, the beds and chairs are living tissue, the gene splicers and other lab equipment all work by DNA computer, the — “

Sajelle said, “What’s that smell?”

“I don’t smell anything,” Emily said. “Rafe also says that genetically engineered molecules in the air might smell to us not only the images in the classroom, but other ideas, too. It’s an interesting theory, I think, given Pam’s constant emphasis on ‘the right way,’ but I’d want to modify it be — “

Lillie wasn’t listening. The pain over Mike was gone.

In fact, it had been really stupid of her to get so upset in the first place. Sajelle was right: Mike wasn’t worth it. She’d thought he was a nice guy, but a really nice guy would have waited ten days for a girl he said he loved, instead of starting to sleep with somebody else. That was an unpleasant truth —in fact, she hated it—but it was a truth nonetheless. She wouldn’t have behaved like that to him. He didn’t deserve her.

“That smell is gone now,” Sajelle said.

Lillie admitted to herself that she still felt bruised. He’d used her. But bruised wasn’t bone-shaking jealousy and unstoppable pain, and what had that been about, anyway? She’d lost her perspective on things. Well, she had it back, now.

“Let’s go to the garden,” she said abruptly, breaking into Emily’s monologue about Rafe’s theories.

Sajelle blinked. Emily said uncertainly, “Well, if you want to, Lillie.”

“I do.” Better to just get it over with.

Mike was dancing with Sophie in the cafe. Lillie, heart pounding but under control, walked past them to a group sitting by the pond. They welcomed her with exaggerated cries, both wary and sympathetic. Jason winked at her.

The wink looked just right to Lillie. He was saying,
Don’t let it get to you,
saying it with humor and style. Lillie winked back.

She tried to pretend to be natural, and the more she did, the more natural she actually felt. Also healthy and energetic. She got them all to the basketball court, where Jason, one of the captains, picked her first for his team.

Three nights later, after his persistent and exaggerated gestures that made her laugh, Lillie went with Jason to his room and had sex with him. She felt relief, and desire, and the knowledge that Jason would only be with her a few days before moving on. Sad knowledge, irrelevant knowledge. What mattered was the sex. In fact, it seemed to Lillie she wanted it more with Jason than she had ever with Mike. It was as if she was driven toward Jason, hungry and eager, and couldn’t help herself. But, then, why would she want to?

“Sajelle! Wake up!” Lillie stood by Sajelle’s bed, barefooted, shivering in a room that shouldn’t have been cold. “Wake up! Now!”

Sajelle stirred sleepily beside Alex, opened her eyes, sat up quickly.

“Something’s happening,” Lillie said. “I don’t know what. Please … come.”

Sajelle climbed over Alex and followed Lillie into the corridor. By the time they closed the door behind them, Sajelle was already frowning. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Lillie said helplessly. “I just woke up knowing something’s … wrong.”

Sajelle said slowly, “Yeah. It is.”

Relief washed over Lillie. She wasn’t the only one with this sense of doom. Not just doom, either. Anger, fear, shame, a flood of nasty emotions that made her feel terrible. What was she doing on the ship so long? God, poor Uncle Keith must think she was dead! And then Jason … and before him Mike … how had she acted like such a slut? She, Lillie! She didn’t behave like that! And she’d been here—they’d all been here—how long? What month was it, anyway? Why had they stayed, learning genetics from aliens, while their families below must not even know what happened to them!

“God,” Sajelle said, “those …
aliens.
What have I been doing here? How long has it been?”

“I don’t know. I lost track.”

“They not even human!”

“Well …” Lillie said, her native fairness asserting itself. But then an image came to her, sharp and horrifying: Pam taking her through the garden wall into the rest of the ship, and flowing toward her a thing, a blob, of living tissue … How had she forgotten that terrible picture? She clutched Sajelle’s arm.

“Don’t you go clinging to me!” Sajelle snapped. Then, “I’m sorry, Lillie. It’s just…”

“I know,” Lillie said. She felt on edge herself, anxious, almost sorry she’d woken Sajelle. “What’s
happening?”

“We ourselves again,” Sajelle said grimly.

Yes. But how, and why? And who had Lillie been before? All of a sudden she wanted to cry, or kick something, or find Pam and Pete and demand explanations, reasons.