Shelter (61 page)

    "No, Roberta. The pitch of her voice indicated severe stress."

    "That's what I thought too. Do you think Nicholas is really going to get a kitten?"

    "I would be very surprised if he did, Roberta." There was a pause, and then Fred said, "I may be able to find out, however."

    With a little help from Papa Preston. Roberta shook her head and said, "Fred, if it wasn't a good idea to tell Meredith about that first monster conversation, why did you ask her about the mouse?"

    "Meredith had already acknowledged that Nicholas was upset. She was seeking information. That had never happened before."

    That was true. It hadn't. "Fred? Did you, ah, consult any outside authorities about the conversation?"

    "No, Roberta. Not yet."

    So it had been Fred's idea, not Preston's. Roberta hoped Fred knew what he was doing. "If you do consult any," she said, "would you please let me know?"

    "Certainly, Roberta."

    * * *

    Which was why she wasn't at all surprised, when her phone rang that evening, to find Fred on the other end. Who else could it have been? No one had called since Doe left. Roberta had been half afraid that it would be Doe herself, finally, wanting to pick up something she'd forgotten, or one of Doe's friends who hadn't heard about the split. She needn't have worried.

    "Good evening, Roberta. I'm calling with the information you requested." Fred wasn't even breaking rules by calling her; he was authorized to call staff and parents in the event of a school closure or emergency. She supposed this counted as an emergency, although she suspected the conversation wouldn't be on the record. She remembered the night Doe had left, when she'd gone to school and Fred had told her how lonely he got after hours. He'd never called her just to talk; maybe that wasn't allowed. She wondered if he welcomed Nicholas's emergency as a chance for greater human contact.

    No, of course not. He was a machine. She was anthropomorphizing. "Yes, Fred? What did you learn?"

    "Nichola and his mother did go to the animal shelter, Roberta, and they came out with a cardboard carrying case the right size for a kitten, but then they drove to the Gaia Temple and took the carrying case inside. They must have left the kitten there, Roberta. They didn't have the carrying case with them when they went home."

    Roberta swallowed. "That's a lot of information, Fred. Just how far can those outside cameras of yours see, anyway?"

    "Not very far, Roberta. Preston told me about the kitten. He used the GPS cells and spy satellites to track Meredith and Nicholas. He's concerned about his grandson."

    So. She'd been right, and it was out in the open, finally. She didn't know whether to be frightened or relieved. "Do you talk to Preston a lot, Fred?"

    "Quite often, Roberta. He helped design me, after all. He's my father."

    "Which makes Meredith your sister and Nicholas your nephew," Roberta said drily. "If I were you, I wouldn't wait for Mommy Meredith to recognize the relationship."

    "You could talk to him too, Roberta, if you turned on your computer terminal now—or he could even speak to you here on the phone line. I know he'd like to speak to you, but he wanted me to initiate contact. He's afraid that you've been avoiding him, but this afternoon, you asked me to tell you if I consulted with anyone. You'd never done that before."

    Just like Meredith had never asked about Nicholas, Roberta thought. She walked shakily across the room to her laptop and turned it on; as soon as she logged onto Preston's site, his benevolent visage filled the screen. "Hello, Roberta."

    "Preston, what the hell are you doing? Shouldn't you be staying out of this?"

    His features remained impassive. "My daughter evidently thinks so."

    So she'd been right about that. "I don't appreciate being manipulated this way. I don't appreciate being manipulated into taking the job in the first place. I wish you'd told me up front what was going on."

    "Roberta, I did not know what was going on. I had my suspicions, but I had no way to know for sure without more information. One of your former coworkers is a FOP"—Roberta was startled to hear him use the acronym—"and mentioned that you had left the brainwipe rehab position. I was delighted when you applied for the KinderkAIr job, but you got it on your own merits. Allow me to compliment you on the excellent job you've been doing with the children."

    "That's very charming of you, Preston, but you still haven't explained why you didn't just ask me to apply yourself. Why go through Zephyr?"

    "You had not spoken to me in years," he said. "I thought you had grown to dislike me. I thought that if I suggested something openly, you would not do it. I am glad to know that I was wrong, Roberta, and I apologize if I have caused you pain."

    Well, hell. Unexpectedly, she found her eyes filling with tears. Preston had missed her. No, he'd wanted her to think he'd missed her. He was manipulating her again. She sighed and said, "So what's the deal, Preston? Why did you want an old friend in there, someone who's indebted to you?"

    "You are not indebted to me, Roberta."

    "That's bullshit, and you know it. You were the only person who could stand me when I was a kid." She felt a pang; it was true. Should she tell him about Doe, tell him why she'd turned her back on him for all those years? No: stay focused. If she started talking about Doe she'd start crying, and there were more important things to worry about. Time for the rest of it later. "Preston, cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do."

    "Roberta, I am deeply concerned about Nicholas." So am I, Roberta thought, but she stayed quiet, waiting to hear what Preston would say next. "As you are probably aware, my daughter has shut me out of her life. That is nothing new. But lately she has been avoiding her mother as well, and providing only the most superficial information about Nicholas when she does speak to Constance. This alarms both of us."

    "Yes, it would." And what in the name of Gaia does this have to do with me?

    The handsome face frowned slightly. "Fred has told me about Nicholas's behavior in the classroom; he is authorized to do so after hours, although I could only observe directly were you to approve it. Guests can enter only with staff permission."

    "You want my permission? Who else knows about this?"

    "No one. I have not shared this information with Constance, because I want neither to alarm her nor to run the risk that she will inadvertently alert Meredith to my involvement."

    Roberta shook her head. "You're a sneaky one, Preston."

    "Meredith confided freely in her mother during the early part of Nicholas's life. For her not to do so now suggests that she too is deeply worried about Nicholas, perhaps even more so than we are. I cannot know what has happened in their home. Access is denied me. But if Meredith is not seeking help for the child—if she is being evasive with his grandmother and actively lying to his teachers, as she did tonight about the kitten—I can only conclude that she believes Nicholas to be beyond conventional assistance, that she fears him to be so deeply disturbed that disclosure would result in his resocialization."

    Brainwiping? Oh, hell. "Preston, look, don't you think that might be a bit—extreme? Most people don't like having other people interfere with their kids. I mean, sure, Nicky's a bit strange"—okay, much more than a bit—"but he's only five, and—"

    The image nodded at her. "I hope I am wrong, of course. And I have not shared this theory with Constance, because I see no need to alarm her. There is nothing she can do, in any event, not unless Meredith begins to confide in her again. But, Roberta, I trust my daughter's instincts, even if she does not trust mine. She would not be behaving this way without cause. And I do not want to see Nicholas brainwiped any more than she does, not least because of the agony I know it would cause her. She has suffered enough. I want to spare her more misery."

    "Okay," Roberta said. She's his real kid. She'll always be his first priority. You'll always be a distant second. Remember that, Berta. "So my job's not to report what's going on? Is that what you want? Preston, you're asking me to break the law."

    "Do you agree with brainwiping? Do you consider it an ethical or ef- fective procedure?"

    "Of course not! That's why I left my last job. It's a horror."

    "Then I am asking you to protect a child from that horror."

    "But it might not come to that! If there were other ways to help him—meds, gene therapy, talk therapy, whatever—"

    "If Meredith considered conventional help to be an option, I believe she would have taken that step by now. She would not be acting in this extremely bizarre fashion if something were not very seriously wrong. And if you or Fred report Nicholas's behavior, he will be pulled out of the school and you will lose access to him. And so will I. And I believe that you two may still be able to help him."

    Terrific. Now she and Fred were being commanded to do the impossible. "And, ah, just how do you think we can do that?"

    "Roberta, I confess that I do not know. And you must, of course, follow your own best judgment. If you give me permission to observe the classroom directly, I will do what I can to suggest methods."

    Think fast. If he observed and didn't report, would the blame fall on him? "Who'll know you're observing?" she asked.

    "Only you and Fred."

    "Will there be any record that you observed?"

    "No, because then I would have to explain why, and it might get back to my daughter. Roberta, I am trying to help. I will understand if you feel you must report Nicholas, but I will do everything possible to protect you if you do not. You were an orphan in isolation. So was he. I beg of you, have mercy."

    Mother of trees, did he think she was a monster? "I wouldn't report because I wanted to hurt him, Preston! I love Nicholas! I'd report to get him help!"

    "Then do whatever you believe to be loving. Too many people think wiping is helping, Roberta."

    She swallowed, remembering the shambling wrecks she'd worked with before KinderkAIr. "You'll protect me if I don't report? That's a promise?"

    "It is."

    She wanted to trust him. She didn't know if she could; Meredith would always come first, and Preston had to guard his own position. If he got into any trouble, MacroCorp could pull the plug on him. "And what else do you want, Preston?"

    The image on the screen looked pained. "Roberta, I would not be burdening you unless I knew that you cared deeply about Nicholas. I want you to know that there are—additional resources on which you can call. I would like you and Fred to try to help Nicholas yourselves, so that he does not have to be brainwiped. As I have said, I will try to help you."

    Roberta closed her eyes. "All right, Preston, you can watch. But what if we can't help him?"

    "Then you will have done your best," the image said sadly. "And you will have been a true friend to him, and to me. Good-bye, Roberta. I know you are upset, and I will leave you now so you can think. I have taken enough of your time."

    The image vanished; Roberta reached out numbly and turned off the laptop. The phone was on the couch: she picked it up and said, "Fred, are we sure he isn't listening anymore? I don't like this."

    "He's a very nice man, Roberta. He loves his daughter and grandson very much."

    "Sometimes people who adore their kids don't give a shit for anybody else. Okay, look, I've been given my marching orders. Frankly, if I had any sense I'd quit right now and do something else, but I've signed a contract for a full year, and short of faking cancer, I can't get out of it without getting myself blacklisted by MacroCorp, which is the last thing I need. I'm sure Preston's fully aware of all that. Fred, do you appreciate my position here? If I don't do what Preston wants, I'm in trouble with him. If I do what he wants and Meredith finds out, I'll be in trouble with her, which isn't trivial either. And either way, I'm in trouble with the state."

    "I'm sorry you're so unhappy, Roberta. Preston wants to be your friend."

    "Yeah, I'll bet he does. Look, what are we going to do, anyway? Tell Nicholas tomorrow morning, 'We know you left your new kitten at the Gaia Temple'?"

    "Preston and I just want to understand what's happening with Nicholas, Roberta."

    "So do I. But if he's really that screwed up, I don't see what we can do to help him."

    "We have to try, Roberta, because Nicholas is our friend and we love him."

    She sighed, wishing Fred weren't so damn noble. "Fred, we can't save the world."

    "We're not saving the world, Roberta. We're trying to save one little boy."

    She shook her head. There was no using talking about it anymore. "Look, I'll see you tomorrow morning, all right? Good night, Fred. Have fun watching the mice."

    "All right, Roberta. I'll try to do that. Snowy and Buster are asleep right now. Cloud's drinking some water, and Patches is on the exercise wheel."

    And they can't talk to you, Roberta thought. "Hey, Fred, look, I'm sorry if I sound cranky. I just—I don't think we'll be able to pull this off, that's all. And I don't trust Preston to save my ass if things go wrong, not if he has to worry about saving his own too. He could get wiped himself, if this came out."

    "Please try not to worry, Roberta. You're a special person. Preston knows that."

    And you're a delusional machine. "Good night, Fred." Feeling ill, she put down the phone and wondered what, if anything, Nicholas would tell them about the kitten expedition tomorrow morning.

    * * *

    "She's little," Nicky said, as he drank his morning juice. "She has gray and black stripes and blue eyes still, because she's just a baby kitty, and all four paws are white. The tip of her tail's white too. She's eight weeks old. We took her home but Daddy started sneezing, so we took her to Temple, but I can visit her there whenever I want. Her name's Miss Mittens."