Swan Song (Book Three of the Icarus Trilogy) (16 page)

“Well, it’s nice, but....” the Elizabeth said, unable to think of a real reason why she would be drawn to the picture.

“Mhmmm, that was always my impression of it, as well.  I’ve seen you in this shop before, I think.  Might have been a couple of years ago?” the woman asked, a quizzical look on her face.  Elizabeth hesitated before shrugging.

“I .... umm, yes.  I came here sometimes with.... my sister,” she said, drifting off towards the end and grabbing her right elbow with her other hand.  The whole ordeal was becoming uncomfortable.

“Ah.... So that’s why you like that one.  What happened to her?” the woman asked, settling into the purple chair behind her.  Elizabeth looked at the woman in shock and realized that she couldn’t form any words.  The woman raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“Come now, dear.  I’m not especially the prying type, but I’m no stranger to loss.  You weren’t browsing, honey, you were drifting.  Trust me, it’s better to come clean on this type of thing,” she said, her lips giving way to a slight smile.

“I....”

“That a girl,” she said reassuringly.

“She was a doctor on Eris,” Elizabeth said, not entirely sure why she would admit such a thing to a stranger.  She looked up into the gaudy woman’s face and saw understanding and compassion.

“I’m sorry, my dear.  Truly.  I know that pain.  Can I give you some advice?” she asked, doing her best not to assume too much and failing miserably.  Elizabeth nodded, the pain of her loss causing her to disregard her normal behavior.

“Life goes on.  I know you’ve heard that one before.  But truly, it does.  We must find our own way once the ones we love have passed on.  So often we forget that we’re free to live our lives the way we choose, especially when we lose those closest to us.  But we have to remember, dear, that they wouldn’t want us to live in mourning.  They would want us to live in joy and happiness.  It’s there for us to seize and they would feel terrible if they knew they had caused us to withdraw inside our shells.  Do you understand, dear?” the gaudy woman asked, giving a sorrowful, closed smile.

Elizabeth thought about her words and realized that she had been trying to do just the same thing.  To Elizabeth it had been a hollow goal, but now, with the old woman’s words, it seemed more real.  It seemed like there wasn’t another option.

“I know it’s hard, my dear.  Hmm.  Well, here,” the gaudy woman said before extending the green and gold arm and handing the bronze frame over to Elizabeth.  “You take this.  We have to remember our loved ones; it’d be a shame to forget them.  But maybe you can look at this and realize that we need to live on for them, too.  We have to remember to have our happiness,” she said before sitting back into the purple chair.

“How much....” Elizabeth said as she ran her fingers along one of the seashells, but the old woman only shook her head.

“No, my dear.  That’s for you.  This shop has never been about making money.  It’s been about surrounding myself with the things I love.  It’s what makes me happy,” she said with a smile, this one full of teeth.  Elizabeth looked down at the picture again and smiled, remembering the warm days she had with Charlotte and her father running through the local parks.  The young woman looked up from the picture and into the still-smiling face.

“Who were these girls?  Do you know?” she asked, which made the older woman chuckle.

“Well, once upon a time one of them was me.  The other one was my sister Olivia.  She passed a few years back,” she said with an undercurrent of sorrow.  Elizabeth gaped in horror at the transgression and offered the picture back.

“I can’t take this,” she started, but the woman laughed and motioned for the girl to stop.

“My dear, I don’t need it.  I have a lifetime of those stored up here,” she said as she pointed to her head.  “I have plenty to look back on.  I hope that this,” she said as she motioned towards the frame, “can help you.  It would mean quite a bit to me.”

“Ma’am,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head while drawing the picture close to her chest.

“Teresa, my dear.  There’s nothing you need to say.  Now get out of here and make your sister proud,” she said with a big smile before pointing at the door.  Elizabeth looked at the picture and then back at the gaudy woman.

“Thank you, Teresa,” she said before backing towards the doorway and hugged the photo to her chest.

“Goodbye, my dear.  Go enjoy yourself,” she said before smoothing out the frumpy gold and green dress and getting distracted by something on the floor.  Elizabeth walked through the doorway and turned towards the residential district, doing what she could to absorb the lesson she had just been given.

As she walked home she looked at the picture of the two girls; it seemed like the two of them didn’t have a care in the world.  It was a memory, but it seemed like such a strong one.  Elizabeth laughed as she looked forward, realizing that Teresa had been speaking the truth.  Charlotte would have hated for her to live her life in constant grief and mourning.  Her older sister would have kicked Elizabeth out of bed and then dared her to ask out one of the neighborhood boys.

The young woman walked confidently down the street and realized that she could be the strong one.  Trying to find new reasons to wake up was the wrong way to go about it.  Elizabeth would just have to live and enjoy it, finding her reasons as they came.

Elizabeth was almost home before she realized that she was passing the local grocer.  She thought for a moment about her mother’s request for dinner and realized that this lesson wasn’t meant solely for her.  Mrs. Kane was stuck in a rut just like Elizabeth, but she didn’t have Teresa pushing her towards happiness.  Elizabeth would have to fill that role.

After a few minutes of browsing, Elizabeth gathered a few vegetables and paid for them at the register before heading down the street.  The young woman managed to open the front door to their home on Lavender Street and kicked off her shoes after closing the door.

“What, what is this?” Deborah asked as her young daughter walked into the kitchen with her arms filled with heavy brown bags.

“Dinner, mom,” Elizabeth said with a casual smile as she dropped the bags filled with food onto the kitchen island and looked at the older woman, who had left the romance novel on the table.

“I thought we’d order from the Chinese place,” Mrs. Kane said, forgetting her request from earlier, but Elizabeth decided to be patient with her.   The young woman walked over to her mother and jumped up to kiss her on the forehead.

“Well, if you don’t help me and this turns out poorly, I guess we can do that later.  Deal?” Elizabeth asked with another smile.  Her mother, seemingly broken out of her loop, smiled and walked over to the grocery bags.

“Oh, honey.  No, let’s do this right,” she said as she started to lift a head of lettuce out of the bag.  Elizabeth looked at her mother and smiled, remembering the good old days and how they had gathered around the kitchen.  Charles Kane would pick at the food, getting slapped by spatulas from his daughter and wife, but he would always wink at Elizabeth.  It was a wonder they ever had a proper meal.  The young woman laughed at the memory and looked at her mother.

If this was life after loss, maybe she could deal with it.

-

Maxwell Garrison waited anxiously on the luxurious couch surrounded by vintage furniture.  The wood was not imitation and the sense of spent money was very real.  It was the second impression that the puppet master wanted to leave in the mind of his visitors.  The first was the size of Babylon Tower, and the last thing that Jasper Montgomery wanted his guests to know was that their lives meant nothing to him; that he could crush them with a wave of his hand.

And that was why Garrison was so nervous this time around.  The aging bureaucrat had been to this office before, seen the beautiful secretary before, but his previous visits had been those of obligation and humility.  He had seen Montgomery to report on the goings-on in his quadrant on Eris and then departed as quickly as he could.  Garrison had never been comfortable in the tyrant’s company, and this was no time to start.

Especially since his aim was to strive against the leader of the Trade Union.

Garrison had resolved that day on Midgard that he would do everything he could to make up for that mistake.  Maxwell would find a way to avenge his wife and son and all the millions of people that he could have helped.  But to Garrison, petitions and protests meant nothing in the long run, especially with his personal knowledge of Jasper’s habits.  No, for Maxwell, the best way to destroy or limit the Trade Union would be from within.

“He’ll see you now, Mr. Garrison,” the woman said from the receptionist’s desk.  The bureaucrat looked at the woman and expected her to look back down at her terminal, but this time around the woman kept eye contact with Maxwell.  Garrison wondered why that was until he had his hand on the rich, dark wood of the office door.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Garrison,” the woman said with compassion.  The balding bureaucrat looked down at the woman and paused with his hand on the door.  He had difficulty breathing at the unwarranted sympathy, but luckily he was spared from responding.

“It was in your file, Mr. Garrison.  I know that your wife and your son were on Eris when Mr. Montgomery had to gas the planet.  I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes unflinching and full of empathy.

“I.... thank you, miss,” Maxwell said softly and saw the young woman nod briefly.

“I know it must be rough, trying to talk to the man responsible for the death of your loved ones.  I had a brother who worked for the Commission.  I....”she said before regaining her senses and realizing that this was not the place for such idle chatter.  “You should probably get in there,” she finished before turning back to her computer screen and typing away.  Maxwell nodded and touched her shoulder briefly before pushing through the doorway into Jasper Montgomery’s office.

It was just a massive as he remembered, the huge window pane opening up to look out onto the expanse of Babylon.  The bookcases lined the left wall while muted television displays adorned the right.  In between were certain set pieces of furniture, but Garrison ignored them as he walked to the prominent desk placed near the window.  He had no time and no concern for marveling at Montgomery’s office; this was no casual call.  Instead, he walked in a bee line towards the desk and the man waiting in the leather chair watching him over interlaced fingers.  When he arrived at the desk, Garrison was about to take a seat, but he was surprised to see Jasper rise from his position and walk around his desk.

“Maxwell, my friend,” he said as he approached and offered his right arm for a handshake.  Maxwell shook the hand of the man who had killed his family and tried not to jerk it back when Jasper set his wrinkled left hand on the other side.  “I am so very sorry about what happened.  To think what happened was my fault.... I have no words, Maxwell.  I know you loved Constance and Nathaniel dearly.  How are you holding up?” he asked as he withdrew his hands and then sat in the nearby chair, motioning for Garrison to take the other leather seat.  The bureaucrat sat down on the luxurious furniture and then tried not to attack the old man in front of him.  As cathartic as it would have been, it was not what Maxwell was trying to accomplish.

“I’m trying, Mr. Montgomery,” he started, but Jasper tapped Maxwell’s knee and looked at him with sympathy.

“Jasper, my friend.  We can do without formalities,” he said, adopting the tone of a kind grandfather.  Maxwell took a deep breath and then continued.

“Luckily my daughter-”

“Christine.”

“Yes, luckily Christine had already been accepted into Hawking University and I had been there to help her move in.  So I’ve had her help in trying to recover,” Maxwell said, doing his best to keep to the scenario he had planned.

“Yes, in these times it is best that we focus on the people who are still close to us.  Again, Maxwell, I am so sorry,” Jasper said, the ruse almost fooling the vengeful man by his side.

“Well, I’ve been doing what I can, but I’m starting to run out of funds and honestly I believe that work will help me get past this....tragedy,” he said, his words failing him and the emotion over his lost wife and son coming to the surface. 
So be it
, he thought,
it will help sell it home
.

“Maxwell,” Montgomery said, leaning back in his chair and adopting a thoughtful pose.  “I want to help, I do, but I’m not sure that I have much to offer.  If you hadn’t noticed, we are in the middle of a very difficult situation,” he said while looking off towards his revolting city.  Garrison watched him and sighed, trying to find the best words for this next statement.

“Mr. Montgomery,” he started, and then remembered that he needed to be familiar, “I mean, Jasper.  I believe I can offer you something that other people cannot,” he said, which drew the attention of the grey-eyed, wicked tyrant in the leather chair beside him.