“Okay. Slot Renstrow in for tomorrow afternoon, early. We try to keep all members of the Fourth Estate happy.” He gave her a penetrating look. “Something else bothering you?”
“Stephen, I spent all night going over our budget figures, looking for a possible problem. Do you realize we have spent three times as much as Jacobsen did by this same time last year?”
Jeffers shrugged. “The staff has expanded, Andie. You know that. Jacobsen wasn’t on a major Senate subcommittee. She didn’t have our needs. So our expenses are greater.”
“What if this is what Renstrow’s after? Maybe she’s looking to expose profligate mutant senators. She was very interested in your business background.”
Jeffers grinned. “Let her dig.”
“Stephen, I’m serious.”
“I can see you are. And I’m trying to lighten you up. Believe me, I can handle Renstrow’s probe attempts. My affairs are in order. And stop worrying about the budget. That’s not your department anyhow.”
“Sorry to have troubled you,” Andie said. She set her jaw defiantly, closed her lapscreen with a snap, and stood up to leave.
His voice stopped her at the door.
“Andie, wait. Come back and sit down. Please?”
She halted, turned, looked toward him.
“I don’t mean to make light of your work,” Jeffers said. “Your concern is commendable. I just hate the thought of you losing a night’s sleep over this. You work hard enough as it is.”
“I’m not looking for gratitude, Stephen. I just don’t like being told that this is none of my business.”
He leaned over and covered her hands with his. “Andie, you’re incredibly important to me. I couldn’t function without you. And I know you’re disappointed with your current responsibilities, but have patience. That will change.”
“Forget it, Stephen.”
He didn’t release her hand. “I think we need to talk. Can I see you tonight?”
“Not tonight, Stephen. I have plans.”
“Break them.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Tomorrow, then?” He smiled disarmingly.
“Ask me tomorrow.” She stood up and walked out of his office.
The building housing Ryton, Greene, and Davis Engineering was low and graceful, built from a blue-gray epoxied granite that Michael’s father had requested specifically for its soothing psychic resonances. Windows of blue Plexiglas glinted like jewels, set deeply in the building’s walls.
Michael pulled his parka collar up and hurried into the building, his breath leaving clouds of condensation in his wake. A cold morning. He could feel mutant season in the air. Halden had called the council meeting for the third week in December. Early, this year.
“Michael Ryton, call on line two,” the mech announced as he walked through the door. He hung up his orange parka, hurried to his desk, keyed on the screen. Andrea Greenberg stared at him somberly.
“Michael, is your father around?”
“He’s in a meeting.”
“Well, then, I guess I’ll have to give you the news.” She smiled slightly. “Don’t shoot the bearer of ill tidings, please.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve got some information on your sister.”
“Melanie! What’s happened to her? Is she alive?”
“As far as I know.”
“What do you mean?” Michael stared at the screen.
“I have no idea where she is now.”
“Well, where was she?”
“In Maryland,” Andie said. “Living with a man.”
“Mel?” Michael sat down with a thud.
Andie nodded. “Apparently, she met him at the club where she worked as an exotic dancer.”
“A what?”
Michael fought back the urge to laugh. His shy sister dancing almost naked in front of strangers? It was impossible. Ludicrous.
“You know. A stripper.” Andie’s tone grew impatient. “Anyway, it looks as though they had a fight, and she ran off, taking his skimmer.”
“Slow down. She stole his skimmer?”
“Michael, I know this is hard for you to believe—”
“Does she still have it?”
“No. It was recovered the next day.”
“And where is she now?”
Michael leaned back in his chair.
“I can’t believe any of this,” he said. “An exotic dancer. Living with some guy and taking off with his skimmer.” He shook his head in wonder. “At least she’s still alive.”
Andie nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t know much else.”
“What’s the name of the man who filed the complaint?”
“Benjamin Cariddi.”
“Nonmutant?”
“So it appears.” She watched him for a moment. “What are you going to tell your parents?”
“The truth, I guess.” He rubbed his eyelids. “Now give me some good news, Andie. Make it up, if you have to.”
She smiled gently. “Senator Jeffers is working on the repeal of the Fairness Doctrine.”
“About time.”
“How’s it going with that normal girlfriend of yours?”
Michael brightened. “Great! Kelly’s wonderful.”
“Sounds serious.”
“I hope so. I’d like to get married next year. But she’s been talking about going away to school.”
“Can’t she do both?”
“I suppose,” he said. “She might not think so.”
“Well, I hope it works out the way you want it, Michael. Mixed marriages can be challenging.”
He shrugged. “What kind of marriage isn’t?”
“I wouldn’t know. Yet.” Andie laughed. “Good luck. And send me an invitation to the wedding.” She winked and was gone.
Michael sat watching the flickering blue screen for a long time.
18
AT FIVE MINUTES to three, Andie walked into Jeffers’s office, notescreen in hand. She nodded with satisfaction at the slim green folder on his desk. He had produced files, figures, and depositions that proved his accounting was completely in order. Andie couldn’t wait to see Jacqui Renstrow’s face when she realized that her little fishing expedition hadn’t worked.
Jeffers looked at his watch.
“She’s late.”
“That seems to be a hobby of hers,” Andie said, settling onto the brown sofa. “Give it five more minutes.”
“That’s about all I can spare,” Jeffers said. There was irritation in his voice. “The Mutant Union will be here soon and that will tie up the rest of the afternoon.”
“Well, it’s her loss. I’ll get your notes together for the meeting while we’re waiting.”
At 3:25, there was still no sign of Jacqui Renstrow. Andie was furious.
“I knew she was just trying to catch us off guard and cause trouble.” She drummed her fingers on the desk.
“Forget it, Andie.” Jeffers’s brow was smooth, his voice relieved. “She probably found bigger fish to fry. Besides, this works in our favor. I’ll have a little more time to prepare for the Mutant Union now.”
“At least she could have called.”
“Never mind,” he said. “Do you have those notes ready? And remember, I want to tape this meeting so we can edit it for distribution later.”
“Right. And excerpts for your faxletter, too.” Andie clipped her notes into his deskscreen. She’d reserved the Madison Conference Room, a double screen and recorder.
At 4:05, every seat in the room was filled with mutants. Andie lingered in the back, feeling suddenly conspicuous among so many golden eyes.
Jeffers stood before them, boldly outlined by pink and white spotlights.
“Friends, I wanted to share our latest advances with you,” he said. “As you may know, I’ve introduced a bill intended to repeal the so-called Fairness Doctrine.”
The audience began clapping loudly,
whistling and shouting approval. Jeffers waited for the din to end.
“It’s going to be a tough fight. Let’s not fool ourselves. The normals are frightened of the mutants. Frightened by our gifts.” He paused. “I hardly have to remind you that they killed some of us when we first emerged in the nineties. And this year, they killed one of us again, in this very building. But nothing will stop us from regaining our rights. We are citizens. We must be treated as such. And they will have to kill all of us before we will stop demanding our rights.”
Again, applause and cheering washed over Jeffers. The Mutant Union members jumped to their feet, chanting: “Rights now! Rights now!”
At their throats, on their sleeves and lapels, golden unity buttons twinkled. Jeffers nodded in cadence with their incantation. Finally he raised his hands for silence.
“It’s time for us to move ahead, into the central arena of public life. Rather than being barred or ignored, we must demand that rules be rewritten, recognition be given. We are not just going to go away.”
His audience erupted into applause yet again. Andie wondered uneasily what Eleanor Jacobsen would have thought of her successor’s speech. Jeffers wasn’t talking about cooperation. A hundred pairs of golden eyes watched him greedily.
“And once we’ve achieved this goal, we will move on. We’ll repeal academic restrictions. And those preventing us from attaining security clearance for sensitive jobs of authority. And we will go on until every door is open to us. Until society cannot shun us, and we have assumed our rightful roles as leaders of society, and as heirs to tomorrow.”
His audience was on its feet, a blur of blue and green, red and yellow. Andie prayed that nobody else had heard these comments. Heirs to tomorrow? What was he talking about? She’d have to edit that tape carefully. But listen to them applaud. He must know what he’s doing.
After fifteen minutes of questions from the audience, Andie tried to catch Jeffers’s eye. It was time to wrap things up. He didn’t seem to see her, so she walked toward the front of the room.
“A normal!” an angry voice hissed.
“What’s she doing here?” someone else called. “Jeffers, what is this?”
Jeffers stepped forward, smiling, and put his arm around Andie’s shoulders in a tight grip.
“My friends, this is Andrea Greenberg, a trusted ally who shares our goals, and you must welcome her as you would welcome me.”
He turned to Andie and said, sotto voce, “Smile.”
She grinned in a frozen rictus. Her heart pounded. This didn’t feel like a senator meeting with members of his constituency. It reminded her of a revival meeting. Or a mutiny. In a controlled voice, Andie thanked everybody for coming, promised them tapes of the meeting, and reminded Jeffers of his next appointment. Then she fled, feeling pursued by two hundred angry golden eyes.
Michael, are you busy?
The mental inquiry was a whisper in his ear, the voice his mother’s voice. Even as he looked around, Michael knew he’d find the room empty. Sue Li was downstairs in the living room.
“No.” He put the screen on pause and waited for her to continue.
I just don’t think it would be a good time to share what we know about your sister with your father.
“Why not?”
He still hasn’t recovered well from Jacobsen’s murder. And the flares weaken him. Until we get additional information about Melanie, let’s keep this just between us.
“Whatever you want, Mother.”
Who is this Andrea Greenberg?
“She worked for Senator Jacobsen. Works for Jeffers now.”
She’s called your father before.
Was there the slightest green tinge of suspicion clinging to that comment?
“Mom, she’s done us some favors, that’s all.”
Why would a normal do mutants favors?
“Why would a normal work for a mutant to begin with? Don’t be silly. She’s our friend.”
If you say so.
Michael felt the mental link fade. It was rare that telepaths could receive as well as send, but his mother’s gift was strong. Especially when she was determined to protect her husband. If she chose to bury this clue to Melanie’s location, he couldn’t stop her.
He told the screen to dial Kelly’s number. She answered on the fourth ring.
“Michael?” She smiled, but there were dark circles under her eyes.
“Sweet-face, you look sleepy.”
“I was up late last night helping Cindy work on a report for school. When am I going to see you?”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“What time?”
“Eight?”
“Great.” She paused, looking uncomfortable.
“Anything wrong?”
“Michael, I heard from the Air Force Academy. They want me.”
He felt his stomach drop. “They’re not the only ones,” he said.
Kelly smiled. “Get serious. I might be able to start as early as June.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I don’t know. I want to talk to you about it.”
“I’ll bet your old man is excited.”
“He’s already decided what squadron I’ll be in.”
“Well, listen, don’t make any more plans for the future for at least twenty-four hours, okay?”
“Not even if Hollywood calls?” She looked at him archly.
“Put them on hold and wait until I get there. I’ve got a lot of things I want to talk about with you.” Michael blew her a kiss and signed off.
He was almost late for a buzzball game with his cousin Seyn. Michael grabbed his parka, and opened the door to his room, colliding with his younger brother, Jimmy.
“There you are,” Jimmy said.
“What’s up? I’m in a hurry.” Michael headed for the stairs.
“Mike, do you think we’ll see Mel again?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she’s alive?”
“Of course.”
Jimmy frowned, looking like a smaller version of their father.
“Well, do you think Mom and Dad would let me move into her room anyway?”
“Is that all you’re worried about?” Michael’s voice grated. He took a deep breath and levitated Jimmy, upside down, toward the ceiling, shaking him. “You little wavehead. You don’t give a damn about your sister! Or anybody else!”
“Ow! Michael, stop it!”
An antique jug, one of Sue Li’s favorites, flew off its perch by the staircase toward Michael’s head. He ducked and it smashed into green and blue shards against the far wall of the hallway. Michael stared at it in horror.
“Knock it off or I’ll hang you upside down in the basement,” he said.
“I’ll tell Mom and Dad—”
“Right after you explain how the pitcher got broken.”
“I’ll fix it. Just put me down.”
With a thump, Michael deposited the squirming boy on the rug. As he watched, the shattered ceramic fragments rose up from the floor in a shining spiral which came to rest atop the hall shelf as the pitcher, its former shape resumed. All signs of breakage had been fused and erased.
“Nice job.” Michael had to admit it. Even he couldn’t have done as well. Jimmy’s telekinetic powers were beginning to outstrip his own. He turned to make peace with his younger brother, but the hallway was empty. He heard the door to Jimmy’s room slam.
The next day, Andie met Jeffers coming out of the elevator.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning yourself.” She fell into step beside him. “Stephen, what was going on at that Mutant Union meeting yesterday? I’ve never heard you talk like that before. Do you want to terrify everybody?”
Jeffers chuckled. “You’re taking this way too seriously, Andie. I can see I shook you up. Well, aren’t you the one constantly telling me to give the people what they want?”
He buzzed open the door and waited for her to ent
er.
“Yes,” she said. “But not to the extent that it sounds like a Nazi pep rally.” She strode into his private suite and flung herself into the blue chair by his desk.
Jeffers stood above her. “You’re stretching this way out of shape,” he said soothingly. “Since the Mutant Union got established, it’s demanded strong talk. So when the Mutant Union comes to see me, that’s exactly what I give it. I tell the members what they want to hear without making any real commitments.”
“What about all those restrictions you promised to repeal?”
He shrugged. “They know I’m not a miracle worker. I didn’t give them any timetable. And besides, those restrictions really are unfair.”
“What was that bit about ‘heirs to tomorrow’?” she said.
“Just razzle-dazzle to get them on their feet.”
“And what do you tell your normal constituency?”
“That I’ll look out for their best interests and keep their taxes low. That integration of mutants and non will continue in an orderly fashion that benefits the best interests of all involved.”
Andie sighed. “You have answers for everybody.”
“Two answers in every house, and two votes.” Jeffers grinned wolfishly.
His deskscreen buzzer sounded.
“Senator Jeffers. Mr. Canay to see you.”
“Send him in.”
A dark-haired, dark-eyed man with olive skin, wearing an expensive suit, entered the room. He nodded at Jeffers, then looked at Andie uncertainly.
“Ben. Good to see you.” Jeffers shook his hand. “Meet Andie Greenberg, my principal aide and press secretary.”
Canay nodded. “A pleasure.” His smile was a bit crooked, but charming.
“Hello.” Andie’s tone was just the slightest bit cool. Why had Jeffers called her his press secretary?
“Andie, Ben worked with me in Betajef, my import company. I’ve decided to bring him on staff to help coordinate the election campaign in ’18 and to work with me on special projects.”
“I see.”
“I want Ben to put together that caucus we’ve been talking about; the one on mutant-nonmutant interests.”
Andie’s eyes widened in surprise. She had expected to head up that project herself.
“Ben agrees that we need a forum that will bring us all closer together,” Jeffers said. He seemed oblivious to her reaction.