Starlight's Edge (8 page)

“Starlight's edge?”

“Fleeter talk for risking it all, volunteering for hazard duty. We've tried landing in Pompeii before, but the coordinates go wobbly around there. There are places where time folds back on itself, and Pompeii seems to be one of them. We were trying to land a crew around the year 77, two years before the volcano that destroyed the city. Unfortunately they arrived in the arena of the amphitheater in the middle of a gladiator battle. We lost them all.”

“Then why go at all? Or why not go to a city that's like Pompeii but safer?”

“There was no city like Pompeii. The wealthy, who couldn't bear Rome's heat and clamor, had villas there. They showed off their wealth by commissioning statues and works of art. Their walls were painted with elaborate scenes, and they retained poets and playwrights as members of the household, always ready to entertain their guests with new compositions. There were many things in Pompeii that existed in no other time or place, and new things were being created every day. There are historical records of what happened that night. Those records survived until the meteors, but only partial copies have been found. And who knows how much never survived at all?”

Zee was quiet for a moment. She hoped David would never go on a mission that dangerous.

“You must be very worried. For Paul, I mean.”

“Worried? I'm proud. Paul's brave, and he knows the value of competition.”

Zee felt defensive, as if Mr. Sutton was saying David
didn't
know the value of competition, or was a coward for not trying to snag the assignment for himself.

“But David doesn't want—”

“David doesn't know what he wants right now,” Mr. Sutton said, cutting her off again. He paused and took another sip of his tea. “Our family has a long history of leadership, Zee. One of my ancestors was the fifth prime minister to hold office after the meteors. Another helped establish the Alliance of Democracies. It's taken a long time to amass the power we have, and it cannot be squandered. We always assumed, perhaps naively, that when the time came David would choose someone like Mia. The Aariaks, have you heard of them? Mia's family. Very much like ours. She would have understood that continued success requires teamwork. Coming from a past that included belief in individual happiness and all sorts of other frivolous pursuits, this may not come naturally to you. But believe me, it's what it takes to succeed on New Earth, and we cannot let anything, or anyone, keep David from that success.”

Zee was speechless, which Mr. Sutton didn't even seem to notice. He took a final sip and stood to go. “I'm glad we understand each other.”

Zee felt a chill run up her spine as he let himself out. She thought again about the night of the party, when she and David were almost dematerialized instead of the table. Had she wandered to the spot by accident or had she been standing there all along? Had she been there first or had David? Could Mr. Sutton have been deliberately trying to get rid of her when David wandered into the picture? Or Mia? If Mia loved David, and if something had happened to Zee that night, David's parents would have been happy to write it off as an accident.

Zee hadn't mentioned the visit to David and was determined to move through the dinner as if nothing had happened. When they arrived at the Sutton house, Mr. Sutton greeted her cordially, and Mrs. Sutton had her hair lit for the occasion. Paul's girlfriend Jozi was a pretty blonde whose quick smile and easy conversation made Zee realize how much she'd missed having a friend to talk to.

As Mrs. Sutton set the over-filled dishes in front of them, Zee relaxed into the idea that the meal would be exactly what David had promised, an ordinary family gathering without a special occasion. But midway through dinner, Paul announced that the date had been set for his Pompeii mission. It wasn't the news that was the problem, it was the way he delivered it. Looking directly at David he'd said, “And so, little brother, while you're stuck here putting your research in order, I'll be discovering the glories of the Roman Empire.”

David didn't seem to mind, though. “Somehow, I think I'll keep myself amused,” he shot back, beaming pointedly at Zee.

“Oh, rub it in,” Paul countered. “No matter how far ahead of you I get, you always end up with the best girl in the room.”

Zee glanced swiftly at Jozi, who'd become suddenly interested in her root vegetable puree. Maybe one-upping each other was the way Paul and David had always related to each other, but the indifference to Jozi's feelings bothered Zee.

“What beautiful food,” she said to change the subject. “So much more, um, stylish than food from scratch.”

“Food from scratch?” Mrs. Sutton scoffed. “
No one
eats food from scratch anymore. It's so primitive, and probably poisonous.”

“I had some nonnano food a few days ago,” Zee said matter-of-factly. “It was delicious.” She had their attention now. Mrs. Sutton looked at her as if she'd just announced she'd shared a bowl of tiger chow with Tommy and enjoyed it.

“What did it taste like?” Fiona asked. “Did you get sick?”

“No, I didn't get sick at all.” She thought a moment, trying to figure out how to describe real food to someone who'd never had it before. “With food from scratch, all the flavors are different from each other. Not just a little different, but a lot. And some things are smooth and some are crunchy. Some things you want to eat a lot of, and some things you just want a tiny taste of because they make your mouth feel hot or make your tongue curl up.”

“Then why did you eat them?” Fiona wanted to know.

“It's hard to explain. Somehow, there's something about them that makes you want to taste them again. It's fun.”

“Can we have real food sometime, Mom? I want real food.” Fiona divided the whole world into two categories, things she wanted and things she didn't want, and whatever she wanted became the focus of her entire conversation. Zee was slowly coming to the conclusion that Fiona was a bit of a brat.

“No, Fiona. Nano food is much better for you. It's safe, it's nutritious, it's—”

“It's no fun,” Fiona cut in.

“And I'm sure Zee won't be going back to wherever it was for more.”

“But I will,” Zee said quickly, enjoying the look on Mrs. Sutton's face. She went on to describe the dishes Marc had prepared, emphasizing the time needed to make each one, their luxury, and their costliness. As she did, Mrs. Sutton's expression softened, and a flicker of interest showed in her eyes when Zee explained how expensive and hard to find each of Marc's ingredients was. “Besides,” Zee concluded, “it's a rare treat to be cooked for by someone who once cooked for nobility.”

“
Nobility?
” Mrs. Sutton's head whipped around so fast her hair flickered. “
That
might be a novelty.” She glanced at her husband. “We're hosting a dinner for the Australian delegate next week. They're a bit rough and outbackish anyway. It might be something they'd enjoy.” She turned back to Zee. “You're sure no one got sick? And the food was edible?”

Zee nodded. “I'm not sure if Marc works for hire, though,” she added. “I could ask, if you'd like. But it could be quite expensive.”

“Excellent!” Mrs. Sutton was delighted at the idea of a splashy outlay and doing something her friends would find hard to outdo. What had been unthinkable to her a few minutes ago now seemed exotic and desirable. “Please tell him I will hire him. And pay all the expenses, though he'll have to shop for himself. I have no idea where one would even
find
things like chicken, much less apples from a tree.”

At the end of the meal, when they all shifted into the lounge, Paul vanished without explanation. Zee and David took up Jozi and tried to fill the gap, but Paul's absence became uncomfortably long. Finally, Mrs. Sutton asked Zee to help her set out the desserts. That was the thing about dessert on New Earth, Zee thought as she followed David's mother into the kitchen. You never had to worry about eating too much because it wasn't good enough to go overboard for.

“Which one's the tea?” Zee asked. The kitchen consisted of large gleaming metal wall tiles, each of which had something to do with nano food but none of which Zee had figured out during her stay. “And the cream and sugar?”

“Hmm?” Mrs. Sutton seemed distracted. “Oh, don't worry about that. Could you get Paul and tell him we're serving dessert? I think he's in the back garden.”

“Is he all right?” Zee asked.

Her question seem to offend Mrs. Sutton. “Of
course
he's all right. He just needs to come in for dessert.”

The garden lights were off, so Zee bumped her way through the darkness. At one point, a warm, wet towel slapped against her hand and she realized it was Tommy's tongue. Then she heard a voice and moved toward it.

“Paul?”

Zee saw the faint light of screen glow and realized he was talking to someone. His voice was hypnotically calm, even if his words weren't.

“I know, Lorna. I'm sorry. I can't always check in when I say I will.”

He paused, and Zee strained to hear who he was talking to, but either the volume was too low or the person on the other end was messaging in print. She knew she should back away and leave, but she didn't.

“No, no, I told you. At my parents' house,” Paul continued. “Just them and my sister, my brother and his girlfriend, and the girl I brought. No, no one special. Jozi. Just a girl I met. Nothing like you. You're my only, you know that. I'll be able to get away soon, promise. So go ahead and make the transfer now, and I'll check in later.”

She waited a few minutes, called Paul's name again, and together they walked back to the house.

*   *   *

Zee kept up her end of the conversation during dessert, but her mind was busy trying to absorb what she'd overheard.
You're my only.
There'd been something sad and aching in Paul's voice when he said that. Maybe the love was all one way. Or maybe Lorna was someone he'd fallen in love with on his last mission and hadn't been able to bring back. Zee shuddered to think how easily that could have happened to her and David. When her permission to immigrate had been mistakenly denied, she'd walked around with a deep, persistent ache in her chest, and for the first time understood that
heartsick
was more than just a word. Maybe that was what she'd felt coming from Paul the night of the party. But was he so stricken that he would violate the rules by continuing to communicate with his mystery woman? Would David have done that with her? Or maybe it was something else completely. What did he mean when he said “do the transfer now”? Was Paul in debt? Was he borrowing from a friend—or girlfriend—because he was too intent on being the family's golden boy to admit he needed a loan?

It was hard not to keep looking at Paul and trying to read his thoughts. And it was just as hard being around him because his conversation with Lorna, whoever she was, had only made him more dismissive of Jozi. Zee was relieved when the evening was finally over and the four of them stood outside the gates waiting for cabs. One rolled up quickly, but a second was nowhere in sight.

Paul swung open the door with a gallant flourish. “Why don't you guys ride with us? Jozi lives in your direction, and we can drop you off.”

Zee glanced at the small cab. Clearly, she wasn't going to sense Paul's thoughts or read him in any way, and the idea of being trapped in a cab with him was intolerable.

“No.” Her voice was too loud and quick in the quiet night. “I mean, we have to stop somewhere, and I don't want to hold you up.”

Paul looked at her quizzically, as if he didn't believe her. Where
would
someone have to go at eleven
P.M.
? On New Earth, there was seldom a need to go anywhere. Everything you wanted appeared in front of you. She scrambled for a plausible excuse.

“David and I are looking for a bigger apartment. I noticed a place today and want to show it to him. The concierge said he'd be there until midnight, remember?”

She glanced at David and felt a rush of relief when he said, “Can't wait to see it.”

The second cab pulled up, and Paul waved them a good-bye as he opened the door. At least, she thought, he had enough manners to let Jozi get in first.

Zee climbed into the first cab and punched in their address.

“We're not going apartment hunting, are we?” David asked.

“No.” Zee closed her eyes. “I just want to be home.”

They rode a few minutes in silence, Zee willing her agitation to die down. She felt David's arm slide around her shoulders and leaned into him.

“What's wrong, Zee?”

Now
, she thought. Now was the time to tell him about Paul's conversation with Lorna and the bad feeling she always got from him.

After a long pause she asked, “Is your brother always like that?”

“Like what?”

Her disquiet returned. How could David not see it as clearly as she did?

“Don't you think it was rude to say those things about you always getting the best girl in the room?”

David tensed beside her. “That's just Paul being Paul,” he said. “He's always kind of like that.”

“With Jozi sitting right there? And when he wandered off before dessert and didn't even tell her where he was going?”

“He's got a lot on his mind right now,” David replied, as if the subject was closed.

But the subject wasn't closed, and having brought it up, Zee found she couldn't let it go.

“That isn't an excuse to be rude.”

“He's my brother, Zee.”

And now the subject really
was
closed, because David turned away from her and focused on the darkness beyond the window.