The Mutant Season, Page 24

  Please don’t be home, he thought.

  She answered on the third ring.

  “Michael! You’re back early,” she said. Her face glowed with pleasure. “I thought you’d be away through New Year’s. How’d it go?”

  “I want to see you, Kelly.”

  Her smile dimmed. “Is anything wrong?”

  “I have to talk to you. Can you meet me at the aqueduct in fifteen minutes?”

  “Tonight?” She looked startled. “Of course. Michael, are you all right?”

  “I’ll explain everything when I see you.” Hands shaking, he closed the connection.

  A five-minute ride and he was at the aqueduct. The pavement was crazed with lines, like the glaze on one of Michael’s mother’s favorite old ceramic pots. An abandoned Christmas tree lay forlornly on its side in a snowbank, the glitter leaching slowly from its ribbons of tinsel.

  Sunk in gloom, Michael kicked at loose pieces of ancient gray asphalt rimmed with tar and burrowed into his gray parka. The sun was going down and another winter storm was brewing.

  I wish I were in Canada, he thought. In South America. Anywhere else, doing anything else.

  The old aqueduct was a favorite gathering place for high-school kids who wanted to hypo or do joysticks. Luckily, the place was deserted now.

  Hurry up, Kelly, he pleaded silently.

  A deep-blue skimmer pulled up. Kelly grinned brightly at him from behind the wheel, cut the batteries and jumped out. She wore a red parka, black leggings, silver boots. She looked wonderful.

  “Gods, I’ve missed you! I thought you’d never get back from that meeting.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her gently. The back of his throat felt like sandpaper. Then he pulled out of her embrace.

  “Let’s walk.” His voice grated.

  A furrow formed between Kelly’s brows.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  He sighed. All his half-formulated lies fell away.

  “Everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He turned to face her.

  “I can’t see you anymore.”

  Her eyes were huge.

  “Can’t or don’t want to?”

  “Can’t. Don’t look at me that way, Kelly. It’s so hard to explain.” He clenched his fists. She covered them with her hands.

  “Try.”

  “It has to do with mutant business. I have to get married.”

  Kelly stopped walking.

  “Have to get married? What do you mean?”

  “There’s a mutant girl. She’s pregnant.…”

  “By you?” Kelly’s voice cracked.

  “Yes.”

  He watched as she struggled to maintain control.

  “Can’t she get an abortion?” Kelly asked.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not allowed in the clan.”

  “What do you mean, not allowed? What kind of clan is this? A police clan?”

  “It’s not like that at all. Dammit, I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  She sat down on a jutting piece of concrete.

  “Do you love her?”

  “No.”

  He kneeled beside her. She took his face in her hands.

  “Do you love me?” she whispered, after a very long time.

  “Yes.” Michael looked away, fighting tears. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t marry you, Kelly. Not now. Even if I wanted to.”

  He stood up.

  “Why not?” she demanded. “What would they do?”

  “I’d be outcast. It’s never happened before. My family would be shamed. If I didn’t honor my responsibilities to the clan, my folks would be shunned. I can’t do that to them.”

  “So instead, you’re going to commit yourself to a woman you don’t love and destroy your own life? For them?” Kelly’s voice rose. “For those mutants? What are you doing to yourself?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re damned right I don’t. Michael, how can you throw yourself away like this? How can you throw us away?”

  She started to walk toward the skimmer. Michael reached for her and caught her by the shoulders.

  “I knew I should have lied to you,” he said bitterly.

  Kelly shook her head, dark hair flying wildly.

  “I’d never have believed you. Listen to me, Michael.” She grabbed his hands. “We can run away. Tonight. We can get married in Delaware. Then they won’t be able to do anything.”

  He took a deep breath. Tears stung his eyes, and the back of his throat. “I wish I could. Oh, Kelly, if only you knew how much I wish I could do it. But it’s not as easy as you make it sound.”

  Her eyes flashed. “It’s only difficult if you want to make it difficult.”

  He thought of Mel, gone now for half a year. Of Skerry, who’d asked him to come to Canada. He was glad Skerry wasn’t around to see the mess he was in now. He could imagine the sour grin on his cousin’s face as he said, “They’ve caught you, kiddo. Should’ve run when you had the chance.”

  “I don’t want it to be difficult!”

  He turned from her, angry now. Why couldn’t she understand and let him go? She was just making it harder.

  “There’s nothing I can do. It’s the mutant way, Kelly. I’m sorry. I love you and I’d hoped to marry you, but now everything’s changed. It’s out of my hands.”

  She stepped back. Her expression was cold.

  “I can see you believe it. And I guess that’s all that matters, then. Good luck, Michael.” She hurried away. Michael heard the door slam, then the roar of the accelerator. Bleakly, he stared after the skimmer, watching his future disappear in the dust of its wake.

  22

  ANDIE SAT IN jeffers’s office, facing him across the desk. She scrolled quickly through her daily agenda. It was three weeks since their return from Santorini, three weeks into the new year. Already, the trip was no more than a pleasant, fading memory swallowed up by the usual controlled frenzy of interviews, position statements, speeches, and press releases.

  “Don’t forget your speech to The Fold on the morning of the twentieth,” Andie told Jeffers. “We’ll get good coverage of that. And it’s not too early to start thinking about getting Akins’s endorsement for the Senate race this fall.”

  “Halden assured me we’d have it.” Jeffers leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Which reminds me, Andie. What’s this about attending a wedding after the fund-raiser in New York?”

  She looked up from the deskscreen. “Michael Ryton’s wedding. God, it’s the Saturday after next. I almost forgot. You remember the Rytons, don’t you? The mutant father and son who lobbied Jacobsen about government restrictions on space engineering?”

  “Those two? And the son is getting married?”

  “Yes. He told me he was pretty serious about some girl. I’m surprised the clan is making such a fuss.”

  “Why? Most mutant weddings are fancy affairs.”

  “Well, the bride’s not mutant.”

  Jeffers raised his eyebrows skeptically.

  “What?”

  “The girl Michael wants to marry is a normal. I think it’s terrific that the clan has rallied behind him. To tell you the truth, I’m flattered to be invited,” Andie said.

  “I doubt the clan is supporting intermarriage,” Jeffers said. There was an odd tone to his voice.

  Andie shrugged. “Maybe times are changing. The clan may be more progressive than you think.”

  “Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced.

  “What’s a traditional gift for a mutant wedding?”

  “Credit chips.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” he said.

  “It’s nice to know that, in some ways, we’re not so different after all.”

  The door chimed its familiar minor key triad. Michael moved toward it, but his mother was quicker. Sue Li, dressed in the trad
itional gold of the groom’s family, hurried to open the door and greet their wedding guests.

  “Halden, Zenora. A joy to see you.”

  Michael’s aunt and uncle entered, elegant in their glittering finery. Zenora’s graying hair was aglow with purple cryolights, which matched her floor-length tunic. Halden wore a flowing gray suit that almost disguised his portliness.

  Zenora hugged Michael briefly. Halden slapped him on the back with such heartiness that Michael nearly fell over.

  “Ready for the big show?” Halden asked, his deep voice booming.

  Michael stared at the floor. “I guess.”

  “Nothing to it. You’ll see.”

  “Come downstairs,” Sue Li said, taking them each by the arm. “We’re still waiting for a few guests before we begin.”

  Halden winked before he disappeared around the corner. Michael sighed with relief and eased the collar of his formal golden suit. He felt as though the neckpiece was slowly strangling him.

  The three-note chord sounded again. Michael opened the door and stared in amazement. Senator Jeffers and Andrea Greenberg stood outside, both dressed in subdued business suits. Snowflakes danced around them.

  “And here’s the groom,” Jeffers said with a grin. “Congratulations, Michael. Good to see you again.”

  Dazed, Michael shook his outstretched hand.

  “Senator Jeffers! Andie. Uh, come in.”

  “Michael, you look wonderful,” Andie said. “Where’s the bride?”

  “Upstairs getting dressed.”

  “This is what you’ve been hoping for, isn’t it? I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Michael’s voice was hoarse.

  Andie looked at him strangely. Jeffers put his arm around her.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s leave him to his last moments of freedom and see the clan.”

  They moved off. Michael was alone in the hallway. He started toward the bar to get a joystick.

  A deep croon wafted up the stairway toward him.

  Damn, he thought. The chant’s starting already?

  Michael turned, took a deep breath, and walked downstairs. His father, clad in gold robes, met him at the doorway. Together they walked toward the improvised altar against the fireplace where Halden stood waiting. Great masses of yellow flowers festooned the walls.

  The room was filled. Michael saw Zenora looming in her seat near the center, on the left. To her right sat Chavez and Tela. The entire clan was here. Even a contingent of mutants from the West Coast, the ones with oddly greenish skin, was seated in the back. In the front row, his mother nodded to the chants as she watched Michael approach. A wreath of red carnations crowned her dark head. Senator Jeffers sat with Andie in the front row as well. Andie winked at Michael as he took his place by Halden.

  With a nod, Michael’s father sat down. The chants shifted in tonality, soprano tones gaining ascendance over baritone and bass.

  Jena walked into the room, holding her mother’s arm. She strode down the aisle wearing a gown of silken ivory petals shimmering with delicate metallic threads. Her hair had been gathered into an intricate spiral in back, interwoven with lavender orchids and silver ribbon. Her face was alight, golden eyes glittering. All her attention was on Michael. He could feel her joy.

  How lovely she looks, Michael thought. How happy.

  As if in a dream, he took her arm and turned toward Halden.

  “This is an occasion for rejoicing. For thanksgiving,” the big man intoned. “As we increase in number, so we increase in strength.”

  Halden placed a hand on Michael’s head, another on Jena’s. The folds from his robe enclosed them like dark wings.

  “Share with me, and share with one another as you will do each day, for the rest of your lives.”

  Michael’s head throbbed. A strange sensation rippled through him with an electric, almost erotic force. Beside him, Jena gasped.

  Halden smiled a quiet smile. His eyes sought out each of them, in turn. Then he lowered his hands.

  “It’s done. Michael James Ryton, take the hand of your spouse, Jena Thornton Ryton.”

  The linkage vibrated down Michael’s spine as he turned toward the golden woman at his side.

  Michael? Do you feel it? Can you hear me?

  Yes.

  Isn’t it wonderful? Will it last? Oh, I love you so much.…

  Hush. Halden isn’t finished yet.

  The mental speech came easily. Michael felt too giddy to do more than wonder at it.

  “The rings?” Halden asked, raising one eyebrow.

  Michael searched his pockets. Empty. But he’d put the ring box in there just an hour ago!

  He turned around and looked at his mother. She closed her eyes. With a desperate wrench, his brother Jimmy jumped out of his seat beside her, face red. He pulled the missing gray velvet box from his jacket pocket.

  “Here. Ow, Ma! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

  Michael smothered a smile and took the box from his brother. Jimmy hurried back to his seat as the clan chuckled.

  Halden nodded. Michael opened the box and slipped the smaller golden circlet upon Jena’s ring finger. She took its mate and placed it on his finger. Cool opalescent fires danced upon the surface of the rings.

  Jena smiled up at him, mind open to him.

  Michael, I love you. I’ll make you happy. You’ll see.

  He kissed her lightly as Halden led the ritual chanting. Then the ceremony was over, and Michael turned toward the sea of faces with his wife.

  Andie watched the ceremony with fascination and confusion. Michael looked dreamy, almost hypnotized. His bride was certainly beautiful. She gazed at Michael with obvious adoration. But when the couple turned to face the crowd, Andie saw that Jena had golden eyes. A mutant! What had happened to Michael’s plans to marry his nonmutant sweetheart? No wonder he’d looked at her strangely when she’d congratulated him.

  Andie took Jeffers’s arm and followed the wedding party into the light-filled dining room. Chairs lined the walls, and the large table in the center was covered with plates of delicacies and exotic flowers. Halden’s wife, Zenora, the large woman in purple, had prepared the feast. Andie remembered how Zenora had protested her presence at that other mutant meeting, after Jacobsen’s death. Wait until she discovered that Andie had been at the wedding.

  Self-consciously, she straightened the jacket of her dark business suit. The mutants were arrayed in glittering, colorful tunics. The women’s flower-bedecked headdresses winked with cryolights. Andie felt like a wren in the midst of an exotic flock of jungle birds.

  Jeffers had explained to her that a mutant wedding was a time of high celebration. The continuation of the clan, and the expected additions as the marriage bore fruit, were traditionally considered reasons to celebrate. And Andie was a stranger at the feast. She stayed close to Jeffers as he congratulated the newlyweds, greeted old friends, and worked the room. Halden came lumbering up in shirtsleeves and pants. He’d shed his official robes after the ceremony.

  “So, Senator. I suppose you’re already planning for the election in November?”

  “Of course. And with your help, Halden, I believe we’ll make it.”

  The Book Keeper squeezed Jeffers’s shoulder. “You’ve given us new hope, Stephen. Provided balm in a season of pain.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Zenora walked up. “Senator Jeffers, we’re proud of you. What’s this I hear about you sponsoring the repeal of the Fairness Doctrine?”

  Jeffers smiled at her. “We’re definitely going after it. Once the election is over.” He turned and put his arm around Andie. “This is Andrea Greenberg. You may remember her from Eleanor Jacobsen’s tenure.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember her,” Zenora said. She nodded coldly. “Welcome.”

  Halden gave Andie a warmer greeting, patting her hand genially. “Good to see you again, Ms. Greenberg.”

  “Please call me Andie.”

  “Of course.”

&nb
sp; “I’m surprised that you’re not with Skerry,” Zenora remarked, her tone acid.

  “Skerry?” Jeffers looked confused.

  “Excuse us, please,” Halden said. “Delighted to see you, Andie. I hope we’ll get a chance to talk later.” He took his wife firmly by the arm and led her away, out of earshot.

  “What was that all about?” Jeffers asked.

  Andie shrugged. “Who knows?” She held up her empty glass. “Think I’ll get a refill.”

  “Fine. I want to have a few words with the young bridegroom.” Jeffers moved off.

  Andie was halfway to the bar when a shimmering glass flute of champagne floated toward her.

  Don’t just stand there, toots. Go ahead. Take it.

  Startled, Andie nearly dropped the glass she was carrying. She grasped the narrow stem of the levitating goblet carefully.

  Let me get rid of your empty.

  The other glass was whisked out of her hand and deposited on the bar.

  Andie surveyed the room, trying to locate the source of the mindspeaker.

  “What’s new?” a light tenor voice asked from behind her.

  “Skerry!” Andie whirled around, sloshing champagne.

  “At your service.” He bowed deeply. His blue suit was shot through with silver lightning bolts.

  Andie smiled. But the bearded face that greeted her was grim.

  “I didn’t think you were here,” she said.

  “Let’s talk.”

  Andie followed him through the main room to a small library. Skerry closed the door and settled heavily into a floatchair. Andie found a bench and sat down, grateful to ease her aching feet.

  “So you’re working for the magnificent senator?” Skerry asked.

  “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

  “If I thought you’d listen, I might actually try to tell you.” He sniffed the green carnation in the ribbon lapel of his jacket.

  Andie slammed her glass down on the table.

  “I have really had enough of your mysterious hints and oblique references,” she said. You dumped that memorypak on me in Brazil. Then you left me holding the bag at the Mutant Council meeting. Why should I listen to you now?”

  “Because I know some things you don’t. And I’ll tell you straight out. You’re making a big mistake.”

  “And I think you’re jealous of Stephen,” she retorted. “You objected to his appointment—God knows why. But you’re right about one thing. I won’t listen to you. He’s a fine man. A hero. He’s brought hope to all of us who thought it had died with Jacobsen.”