Continuance (21 page)

Ivory leaned close again, but
Jason stopped her with a hand. He needed answers. “How long have you known?”

“Old car? Old music? Even old
quarterbacks.” She traced an idle pattern on his chest with a fingernail. “Not
to mention the way you solved that beam coherence problem in the lab. Stuart
told me all about that. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The Arkive data?” She
made it sound so matter of fact. “Don’t worry, speediac. Your secret’s safe
with me.”

That last came as a whisper in
his ear. The whisper turned to a nibble, and before he could think, she was kissing
him again. He knew he should stop her. But he hesitated. Here was someone who
knew what he was, someone he wouldn’t have to pretend with. And she certainly didn’t
seem to mind the idea he might be decades her senior.

No.
Stuart would never
forgive him for this. He brought his hands to her shoulders, intending to push
her away again. But when he felt her smooth skin beneath his hands, he found
himself pulling her closer instead, his body responding.

“Let me help you,”
she murmured against his lips.

Lost now, Jason
barely heard the words as he pushed her back against the sofa, pressing close.
His lips moved to her ear, down the side of her neck.

“You need
someone on the outside.” Her voice was a breathless whisper. “To help you get
the data out.” He slipped his hands beneath her top, feeling the smooth skin of
her hips and waist.

Suddenly, she
was pushing him away, hands surprisingly deft as she squirmed to free herself.
“Stop.” Pain showed on her face. “Stop!”

Dazed, Jason let
his hands fall, ready to accuse her of being the one to
start
. But then
he understood. “You love him. Don’t you.”

The way she
avoided his eyes was all the confirmation he needed.

“If you care
about Stuart, what the hell do you want from me?” His voice was sharper than he
intended, and she jumped.

“It doesn’t
matter.” She rose, straightening her shirt, smoothing tousled hair. “I’ll find
another way.”

“Another way for
what? I need to know what’s going on here. All it takes is one screw-up in that
lab and I’m dead.”

“You’re
continued, Jason. Death shouldn’t really bother you.”

It wasn’t an
answer, and Jason was about to press her for more, but a cool breeze drifted
into the room, whipping his head around. Stuart stood in the doorway, stock-still.
He set the bag he’d brought on an end table, closing the door to come stand
beside them. An amused expression painted his face, but the tightness in his
eyes masked something deeper. Anger? Betrayal? He studied Jason for a long
moment.

“A retread, huh? Guess I can’t
say it’s a huge surprise. Sure as hell explains a lot.” A dark expression
flashed across his face. “You could have said something, though.”

“No he couldn’t,” Ivory said.
“And neither can you.” Her voice was half pleading, half commanding. Stuart
seemed to ignore her, keeping his eyes on Jason.

Part of him marveled at feeling relieved.
Stuart had only heard enough to know he was continued, not what he’d been doing
with Ivory. Still, the world seemed to be unraveling from every direction.

“Said something?” Jason muttered,
standing. The two were close in height, making it easy for Jason to lock eyes
with him. “Sure, Stuart. And while I’m at it, maybe I should just post it on my
SocialNet profile. Name – Jason Day. Age – 20. Or 45. Depends on when you start
counting. Hobbies – science, racing cars, old music. Oh, and illegally coming
back from the dead.”

Jason knew he was letting
frustration get the best of him, but he couldn’t stop. “Don’t you get it? You
think I like keeping this a secret from anyone? From my friends? But every
person I tell, every person who knows, is a risk. And not just to me. You know
as well as I do it’s against the law to harbor a retread.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,”
Ivory broke in. “We’re not telling anyone.” She turned a pointed stare at Stuart.
“Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah. Sure.” But the look he
gave Jason was doubtful. Stuart shook his head, a mix of disbelief and denial,
then left the room.

Jason exchanged an uneasy glance
with Ivory, but words had fled them both. She lowered her eyes and slipped out
the door.

2028

“Michelle.”

Time warped in a disorienting
blend of past and future as Patrick’s voice reached from across the fountain
plaza. It had been years since she heard it last. Hearing it now gave the
strange sensation of the vast space between
then
and
now
evaporating,
letting the two exist side-by-side for an instant. She glanced at the coins
she’d tossed into the fountain earlier, then back at him, seeing recognition on
his face.

His brown hair was cut short,
receding a little even, but it was him. He came back down the steps beside the
fountain, tilting his head to get a closer look. He wore no tie, leaving the
white shirt beneath his slate jacket open at the collar.

“I don’t believe it,” she said. “I
was sure I was imagining things.” Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She hadn’t
given her appearance much attention before heading out. Her drape-sleeve top
and blue jeans were among the last things she’d have chosen for a chance
reunion with an old flame.

“No, it’s me. What are you doing
here? You’re not stalking me, are you?” There was that half smile she
remembered – the one he always wore when he gave her a hard time. “Because that
would be the best thing to happen to me all day.”

She stifled a laugh, trying to
look reproachful. “I was just killing time while I waited to pick up Mandy.
She’s here studying with some friends.” She inclined her head in the direction
of the library.

He strolled up beside her, hands
in his pockets. “Little Mandy? How is she? I remember the last time you brought
her by when I was in treatment. She wanted me to get out of bed and hold her
arm. She was so cute.”

Michelle felt her throat tighten
at the memory. That had been the last time she’d visited him.

“So what is she, in middle school
now?” he asked.

“High school. She’s a freshman
this year. Top GPA in her class.” Michelle never hesitated to brag about Mandy
to anyone who’d listen. And Patrick wasn’t just anyone.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
“What’s she studying?”

“She’s here working on a project.
On the ethics of bio-stasis, if you can believe that. At
fourteen
.”

He raised an impressed eyebrow. “I’d
love to hear her conclusions,” he said. “I signed up myself a few years back.”

Michelle nodded. “You always did
seem to put stock in the supremacy of science.”

“Better than the alternative,” he
said. Patrick reached into the fountain, grabbing a handful of coins. He took
one and skipped it across the water. “By the way, Hermetica’s doing some
cutting edge imaging stuff. We’re working on a digital version of the stasis
protocol. No more frozen bodies. If you think she’d be interested, I could
arrange for Mandy’s class to tour the labs.”

“She’d love that.” Mandy
would
love it, but it would also give Michelle an excuse to keep in touch with him.
“It’ll probably cheer her up a little, too. Robert was supposed to work with
her on the paper – presentation and polish more than substance. But he’s going
out of town on business, so she’ll welcome the help from a different angle.”

“Great. I’ll get you in touch
with the right people then.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “So. I take it you’re
not a fan of the stasis protocol, yourself? The tech’s improving. More and more
people signing up.”

She shook her head. “Frozen solid
inside some tin can? No thanks. Besides, I think one lifetime is just about all
I can handle.” She shrugged, less interested in chatting about the philosophy
of speculative science than simply chatting. “It seems like a lifetime since
I’ve seen
you
.”

 “Technically, it’s only been…”
He used his fingers to mentally tick back. “…twelve years?” He shook his head
again. “Has it really been that long?”

“So what are you doing here?” she
asked. “Last I heard, you were working out of some big high-rise in LA.”

“I am, but I’m also an adjunct
here in the science department. I guess I must have missed the old place. Just one
night a week, though.”

“I guess you were lucky to catch
me here then.”

He laughed. “Guess so. Look at
you. You look great.”

The words might as well have been
a fog the way they clouded her mind, sapping it of clarity. Why was her heart
beating so fast? This was dangerous.

He seemed to decide he’d said too
much, and an awkward silence crept in, both of them seeming to search for what
to say next. He skipped another coin across the water.

“Well, it was great running into
you,” he said, at the same time she blurted, “Do you have time for a quick
walk?” She knew full well she should make a bee line in the opposite direction,
but she wasn’t willing to let the meeting end without catching up a little.

“Sure.” His voice sounded equal
parts relief and enthusiasm. As they made their way out of the plaza, he fell
in beside her. “So you’re still together with…what was his name? Robert?”

She smiled to herself, catching
the stilted, too-casual way he searched for the name he obviously knew – and
just as obviously knew he shouldn’t.             She told him she was, had been
for twelve years now. He followed up with the typical questions, as she did in
turn. Back and forth as they walked, filling in a dozen years’ worth of gaps in
random fragments and pieces. After a while, Michelle mustered the courage she
realized she’d been trying to gather from the moment she saw him. “I’m glad
you’re still here. Healthy.”

“Still alive you mean?” His smile
was at once kind and sad.

She nodded. “I heard the news
about your cancer going into remission. I should have called.”

“It’s probably better you didn’t.”
He was lying, she could tell. He’d always been easier to read than Robert. “Would
it have changed anything?”

“No.”
I don’t know. Maybe.

She’d grown so focused on the
conversation she was surprised when Patrick came to a stop, standing on the
sidewalk. At first she thought she’d upset him with her answer, but then she
followed his eyes. The violinist statue lay just a head, the one by the old
music department.

“This is where it all started,
remember?” His expression seemed say, “
Isn’t this funny
?” But the trace
of pain she caught in his eyes said the opposite.

So the wounds were still there,
just beneath the surface. She knew she’d feel them too, if she let herself,
knew they waited to boil over if she eased her grip on them in the slightest.

“I remember,” she said, taking a
seat on the circular bench.

Patrick sat beside her, elbows on
his knees. He looked a little bit older as he studied his feet over clasped
hands. “Things were so different then, weren’t they? Simpler, but with more
possibilities.” He lifted his gaze to hers, and his eyes brightened. “Better. Of
course, I never realized that at the time. Not really.”

“Who ever does?” she asked. A bird,
black with yellow markings on its face and breast, landed on the concrete in
front of them. It pecked at the seams in the sidewalk for a couple of seconds
before disappearing in a flutter of feathers.

Patrick seemed to consider her
words. “I guess it all goes back to what you said that day we met. About the
butterflies, about change. Nothing stays the same forever.”

Butterflies.
On impulse,
Michelle fingered the delicate chain around her neck. “Wanna see something?” She
slid the chain out, letting the monarch dangle, spinning back and forth as it
caught the light.

“You still have it.” He caught it
in a hand, studying the colored glass. “After all this time.”

And I always
will.
More dangerous thoughts. Definitely time to take evasive action.
Not yet.
Just a few more minutes.

His faced turned serious. She
sensed he was about to say something, and her body tensed as if in anticipation
of a blow. He held her with his gaze for a moment before he spoke.

“I knew why you couldn’t stay
before. It would have been too much to ask. Going through the same thing you
had to with your dad. A
fter I beat
it
, I t
hought about
track
ing
you down.
I could have. But I was either too
proud or too stubborn. Probably both.” He infused the last words with derision.
“But that’s something I didn’t figure out for a long time.”

Her grip on those emotions – the
ones just beneath the surface – slipped as they rebelled against their
years-long confinement. She forced them down again, a task well-practiced. Patrick
had been kind not to mention the fact she’d given him other reasons to be proud
and stubborn. Not at first, but later – after things had already started to
come off the rails. Getting involved with Evan was easy to admit, something he
already knew. But there were other things she wouldn’t admit to him. Couldn’t
admit, even now.