Season of Passage, The (6 page)

Terry had another good answer for why NASA had chosen her, although it was another thing he kept to himself. She was capable - he had no

doubts in that regard - but more important from his cynical point of view, she was attractive and personable. She did more for NASA's public

relations than the rest of the crew combined. At a time when the public was bitching about the expedition's price tag - in the

neighborhood of two hundred bil ion, depending on who you believed - Lauren was worth her weight in gold. Since she had done the talk-show

circuit two months ago, she had been overwhelmed with fan mail. He had read some of it. It was nice to think he had a girl so many guys wanted,

But he was looking forward to the day he got his own fan mail.

Dear Mr Hayes,

I'm a cockroach in Fairfield, Iowa. I live in the wal of a farm house, just outside Des Moines, behind the icebox. I can't tel you how much it meant to

me when Ricky's lover didn't step on him. You've changed my life, Mr Hayes.

'Jenny and I wil be together the whole time, and she'l get by,' he said. 'She's got more going for her than either of us know. How many thirteen-year-

old girls have a boyfriend?'

Lauren smiled faintly. 'Daniel.' It was a brief smile. 'She's a strange girl, Jennifer.'

'That's good,' he said.

'You think so? I don't.'

'You want her to be like everyone else?'

'Yes,' Lauren said. 'Everyone else is fine.'

'So is Jenny. She's just sensitive. Al us geniuses are.'

'She's been having nightmares.'

Terry sat up. 'They've returned?'

'Yes,' Lauren said.

'Are they bad?'

'I don't know. I don't think so.'

'What kind of nightmares are they?'

Lauren shook her head and plucked a white rose from the vase at the center of the table. 'She doesn't talk about

them. I don't think it's a big deal. I don't know why I brought it up.'

Just then, Mr Russo, the owner of the restaurant, walked over. Terry had known him for years. He was a character. He had been born in northern

Italy, but had only come to the United States in his mid-thirties. Since then he had been trying to deny his heritage, although everything about him -

his accent, his mannerisms, even his business -advertised the fact of his Italian origin. Terry would talk to him about something, and he would start

to get al excited and animated, gesturing with his hands, practical y spel ing out mama mia! in the air. Then he would suddenly realize what he was

doing and press his hands to his sides, and lower his voice, and only then continue the conversation. Indeed, he named his restaurant Russo's, and

told everybody that was his name, but he was real y a Giovanni. Terry figured he must be hiding out from a Sicilian godfather. He looked like a

godfather himself. He was big and round. He liked his own cooking.

'Mr Hayes! Always a pleasure to see you.' Mr Russo shook Terry's hand enthusiastical y. 'How was your meal?'

'Great,' Terry said. 'We ate it al and feel... great. Are we keeping you from locking up?'

'Nonsense. The waiters - they have already gone home. So I am here alone, and for me, there is no late hour.' He turned to Lauren, bowing slightly

and taking her hand in his, just like they did in the old country. 'And tonight is, after al , a special occasion. Miss Wagner, my sincerest > wishes for

the success of your long journey, and especial y for your safe return.'

Lauren blushed. Despite being in the national spotlight, she was shy around strangers. 'If only we had your cooking aboard the Nova, Earth would

not seem so far away,' she said.

'You're so kind,' Mr Russo said graciously. He began to remove something from the inside of his coat. 'Miss Wagner, if I may be so bold.'

'Lauren,' she said.

'Lauren, yes, we are al friends. Now I imagine you must be asked this al the time. I hate to ask you myself.'

Lauren smiled. 'For an autograph?'

'Yes. My boy, Michael, he is fourteen years old this summer, and he talks about nothing but space, and rocket ships, and going to Mars. He is a fine

boy, he helps me when he can. I told him you had come in with Mr Hayes, and he begged me for an introduction.'

'I would be happy to meet him,' Lauren said.

Mr Russo started to throw his arms toward the ceiling before he remembered which country he was now living in. Terry chuckled to himself as Mr

Russo folded his arms across his chest.

'You don't know what you would be letting yourself in for,' Mr Russo said. 'My boy, he would talk your head off. He has a bigger mouth than his papa -

his father. But no, he has school tomorrow, and I sent him home early. I didn't want to intrude upon your last night out together. But I promised him I

would ask if you could possibly sign his picture.'

'Sure,' Lauren said.

Mr Russo beamed. From inside his coat he withdrew an undersized rol ed-up poster and gave it to Lauren. She undid the print and laughed. It was

a picture of the Nova, taken from high Earth orbit, looking down on an incredibly blue Pacific.

Personal y, Terry thought the ship was ugly. It was al spheres and rotating hammer-like arms. He would have liked a couple of sleek wings and

several spacious view

windows. He didn't know what idiot had thought up the name. It was so fifties sci-fi. At least they had cal ed the Martian lander something that had

personality - the Hawk.

'I thought you meant a picture of myself,' Lauren said, explaining her laughter. 'Why, that's a fine shot of our ship. I've never seen it before.'

'He keeps it under a plastic cover on the inside of his school notebook,' Mr Russo said. He produced a pen. 'You are so kind.'

'Michael,' Lauren muttered, beginning the note, no doubt a note she had written a thousand times before.

Mr Russo sighed. 'He wil treasure this.'

Lauren paused. 'I feel a bit funny writing him a personal message when I haven't even seen your son. Do you have Michael's picture?'

'Certainly.' Mr Russo pul ed out a wal et that unraveled into a dozen pictures of his son: baby Michaels; birthday Michaels; boring Michaels. He gave

one to Lauren.

She grinned. 'He's cute.'

'Better be careful,' Terry said to Mr Russo, keeping a straight face. 'Lauren might be checking him out for her sister.'

Mr Russo got excited. 'I met her once. A magnificent child. Her eyes - they belong to an angel. Lauren, that picture of my boy, you must keep it for

her.'

Lauren flushed. 'I real y don't know if Jenny is old enough for me to be-'

'Who knows?' Mr Russo interrupted. 'Kids grow up fast. Maybe in a year or two she wil take a fancy to him. What could it hurt? No?'

Lauren nodded. 'You're right, Mr Russo. What could it hurt?' She put the photograph in her purse.

Terry had met Michael several times. He didn't stand a chance next to Daniel. Like his father, he ate too many pizzas, and was pudgy, whereas

Daniel was built like Tarzan.

Lauren finished her note on the back of the poster and handed it to Mr Russo. He read the words aloud.

'"Today, Michael, my generation travels to Mars. Tomorrow, yours wil reach for the stars. Signed: Lauren Wagner, M.D., First American

Expedition." Very inspirational!'

'Thank you,' Lauren said.

Terry thought of the long drive tomorrow, and the day after that, and started to get up. 'It was a fine evening, Mr Russo,' he said. 'But we real y must

be on our way.'

Mr Russo gestured apologetical y. 'I'm as bad as my boy. Talking away.' He helped Lauren with her chair.

Terry reached for his wal et. 'Could I get the bil ?'

Mr Russo looked exasperated. 'How can I charge a famous American hero? No, certainly not. Put your money away. It is no good here.' He took the

white rose that Lauren had left on their table and presented it to her. 'This has been a great honor. Again, my prayers for your safe return.'

Lauren leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Mr Russo's eyes opened. 'Thank you,' she said. 'You're very kind.'

Mr Russo brushed aside her praise. 'When you return, we wil celebrate together. Promise me your first dinner out together wil be here?'

'We promise,' Terry said. They shook hands.

'We wil slaughter the fatted calf,' Mr Russo said. 'Only the finest for America's hero.'

Lauren played with her rose. 'I wil save my appetite. Give my best to your son.'

Terry knew Lauren would want a change of menu. The fatted calf - she never ate red meat.

FIVE

Parking near the cabin, they saw that the light in the front window was stil on.

'Think she's up?' Terry asked.

'She's probably reading,' Lauren said. 'She probably hasn't gone to her own room yet.'

'A pity,' Terry said. He reached over and pul ed her into his arms. They started to kiss, lightly at first, then hard. Lauren tasted the coffee he had

drunk with his meal. She liked coffee. She liked the feel of his hands on her body. Terry had the greatest hands in the world, and not just for

lovemaking. It had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. He had a subtle way of gesturing as he talked that made what

he was saying appear ridiculous, even when he was being serious. He did it on purpose, he said. He didn't want to be taken seriously, because, he

said, al of life was a joke. Of course, he had probably been joking when he made the remark.

He was the craziest guy Lauren had ever met. Once he had come to a meeting of the entire Nova crew, where they talked at length about what they

would do if any number of emergencies struck. Terry had sat there and listened without saying a word until their commander - Colonel Wil iam Brent

- had asked Terry if he felt they were being overly cautious. Terry had looked at him and said seriously, 'What if you get to Mars and you're there for

a couple of days and you start to get bored? What if you get so bored you begin to wonder why you went there in the first place? What are you

going to do then?'

Colonel Brent hadn't smiled. Word had it that he had given up on the habit. 'I hardly see how that would make one bit of difference.'

'Real bored people have been known to have their minds play tricks on them,' Terry had warned. 'You could start seeing things that aren't there. It's

not as though you can come home anytime you want, you know.'

'Do you honestly feel this is a danger?' Colonel Brent had asked.

'Nah,' Terry had said with a laugh. 'I was just hoping maybe I could get you guys to cal the whole thing off.'

He's going to miss me. Boy am I going to miss him.

Lauren's big problem with men, until she met Terry, had been boredom. She'd worried about it. Did she get fed up so quickly with the men she

dated because she was an egotistical feminist bitch who thought she was better than everyone who wore a penis ful time? Being with Terry had

taught her that she simply needed the bizarre to stay excited. She shouldn't have been surprised, he said. Anybody who had dreamed about going

to Mars since they were five years old was pretty bizarre themselves. Terry had helped her to understand that she could be special without being

alone. She had often felt lonely until she met him. Right from the start, though, she had felt that he had always been a part of her life.

Few women would have said Terry was handsome. His sandy hair was thinning and he needed to gain twenty pounds to reach a normal weight. He

also had a habit of

squinting when he was thinking and consequently had more lines around his eyes than a thirty-eight-year-old man who seldom went out in the sun

deserved. But he had style, and not just in the way he gestured. He had a cockiness in his laugh and a twinkle in his eye that made her feel she

could trust him with her nastiest thoughts and deepest hopes at the same time. He also loved to love her for hours on end. He never got bored with

her. It didn't matter what he ate or drank beforehand - he always tasted sweet.

'This is fun,' she said as he kissed her some more.

'It's getting funner,' he agreed.

Lauren shifted her weight and leaned back. Terry fel on top of her. The front seat was terribly cramped, but that was al right. She knew how much

he loved to do it in cars, especial y rented ones. He once told her that the smel of al the other people who had driven the car, especial y the

different perfumes of the women, excited him. He had this fantasy that al those people were actual y there watching them when they did it, which

Lauren thought was pretty kinky.

Terry opened the button on her pants and fiddled with her zipper, which appeared to be stuck. She started to help him, until she remembered her

orders.

'Terry?' she said.

'Hmmm?' He was working on the zipper, and having a hard time. She expected him to use his teeth on it next. Lauren took a deep breath. Her

orders, what were her orders?

'Terry. The Antabolene.'

'Who?' he muttered, uninterested. Final y, he was successful, and zipped down her fly, slipping his hand over her bare hip. His touch was always

gentle, yet firm, too, which she liked. She couldn't remember the last time she

had turned him down, if there had ever been a time. It was a pity it would have to be tonight.

The Antabolene was the drug that would be fed into her system aboard the Nova. It induced a reduced metabolic rate and was the key to

hibernation. As a prelude to the Antabolene's intake, the doctors at NASA had forbidden her to take oral contraceptives. Biochemical variables had

to be kept to a minimum, they said. They didn't know Terry. She realized if she didn't stop him immediately she might end up getting pregnant and