The Anathema (41 page)

“I need to go back to the Academy,” Eerie said seriously, “tonight.”

“Ah… yes?”

“Yes,” Eerie agreed solemnly.

Adel felt the time stretching out disastrously, his smile growing terser as he panicked behind it. He felt a perverse urge to turn his monitor so that Eerie could see what he had done, to show her how false her expectations were. Then he caught the look in her eyes, the obvious eagerness, and he had to choke back his resentment.

Adel put his hands down firmly on the desk, resolved himself, and did his best to look solicitous.

“Eerie,” he said carefully, “is this something I can help you with? Maybe something you would like to talk about?”

Eerie shook her head.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” He felt as if he were running a fever, sweat dripping down his brow and the small of his back. “Because if I could help you, Eerie, then I would like to.”

“Why?” Eerie asked, sounding more curious than usual, leaning forward so she could see him clearly in the dark room. Adel fought the urge to twitch and fidget.

“Because I like you, Eerie,” he admitted, amazed at his own forwardness, and a little afraid, too. “Because, after last time you interned here, I had hoped we might have a chance to get to know each other better…”

“I’m sorry,” Eerie said gently. “I would like to be friends with you, Adel. But I got a very important email. From an important friend. And I have to go now. Maybe we could talk later?”

“I see,” Adel said, stiffly. “Can I ask who you need to see?”

“Alex,” Eerie said softly. “He was supposed to be gone all break, but he came back early. I want to go see him, Adel. Please.”

“Well, if you really think that you must,” Adel said reluctantly, wondering again with a slightly uneasy twinge what exactly it was he was involving himself in. “The Administration won’t be happy, of course, since you are supposed to be with us until the end of break…”

“That can wait,” Eerie said, shaking her head. “I can be in trouble later.”

“Okay,” Adel said, mentally washing his hands of the matter. “Then go, if you think you have to. I won’t tell anyone, so they probably won’t notice until sometime tomorrow.”

If Eerie hadn’t leapt to her feet, right then, so excited that she barely managed to remember to thank him, he might have warned her. At least that is what he told himself. Instead, he felt a perverse satisfaction in hustling her out the door, as she was so eager to see her boyfriend.

“The bus should be by in twenty minutes,” Adel advised her helpfully. “Oh, and Eerie? Have a good time.”

* * *

“Whoa, Alex,” Renton said, blocking him with his arm. “Charm offensive.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, struggling to peer past Renton and over the brush that separated him from whatever he was looking at.

“Must be,” Timor agreed solemnly.

Alex finally wriggled around Renton to get to the edge of the bluff. The sea stretched out below them, dotted with islands no bigger than their own and a clutch of small, wooden fishing boats, separated by waters that were a color of blue Alex had never seen before. The hillside below them was green with low brush and scrub, and a narrow dirt path wound down through it, to a small, white sand beach at the base, gently lapped at by rolling blue waves. It was one of three beaches on the island; the smallest and least accessible, but apparently it was also Anastasia’s favorite. Svetlana had taken the girls half an hour ago, while Renton had suggested they walk.

Anastasia was sitting on a towel, securely beneath a massive beach umbrella, no part of her white skin exposed to the late afternoon sun. She wore a black sundress that left her skinny legs bare, but covered whatever bathing suit she had chosen to wear. Nearby, but in the sun, Svetlana lay on her side on a towel, wearing sunglasses and a mundane burgundy one piece. Therese sat by herself on the sand, wearing a long t-shirt over her suit and reading a paperback in the sun. Katya was out where the waves broke, swimming a vigorous freestyle. And then there was Emily.

She must have seen them; she had to have known they were watching. She walked along the edge of the beach, her feet in the surf, profile against the sun reflecting brilliantly from the water. Her bikini was blue, and not overly revealing, but as with everything else, Emily knew how to wear it. She never looked at them, not once. She just strolled along, pausing to adjust her sandals, to dip her hands in the water. Nobody said anything for a little while.

“For the first time,” Renton said softly, “I am actually a little bit jealous of you, Alex.”

Alex nodded in agreement. What could he say?

“Can we go down to the beach now?” Timor asked, shifting impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Renton muttered, starting down the path.

Alex was in the back of the group the whole way down, wrestling with himself, his eyes on the ground. He was past the point of making another decision, he knew that, but he was no closer to committing himself to anything. He was just letting things happen to him again, like his life was a movie, something to be observed and perhaps enjoyed, but not directly controlled. He cursed himself for the hundredth time since arriving; for saying those things to Eerie before he left (and probably, he feared, burning that bridge), for agreeing to come here in the first place, for coming here and failing to enjoy it because he was too busy beating himself up for making the decision in the first place.

He actually caught himself muttering under his breath as he descended the slope, but then he hit the beach and it was so stunning that it was impossible to stay upset. It looked like a brochure photo for visiting paradise, an impossibly perfect beach with soft white sand that the resort imported at tremendous expense. That it was located in the heart of genuinely communist nation whose name was synonymous in his mind with war and horror and Agent Orange was difficult to reconcile.

Anastasia flicked her eyes lazily over in their direction as they approached, holding up one hand to shade her eyes from the sun. Alex felt a stab of pity for the girl, who had never looked more like a child than she did in her prim little slip, and he could only hope that the sun behind him prevent her from seeing it in his face.

“Hello, various boys,” Anastasia said neutrally.

“Hello yourself,” Timor said cheerily. “I’m going in the water. You wanna come, Ana?”

Anastasia sighed reluctantly and stood up.

“I suppose,” she said, following along behind him. Renton stood there, his smile frozen, while Svetlana looked up at him hopefully. Alex vacillated for a moment, before deciding that anywhere was better than with those two, pulled his shirt off and hurried after at a discreet distance.

He had some ideas about diving directly in and swimming away from everyone, buying himself a couple of minutes in the surf to compose himself, but that didn’t happen – the water was colder and rougher than the day before, and he had to time the intervals in between the small but abrupt breakers to get into the water. He was only waist deep when Emily caught up to him.

“Hey,” Emily said, wading into the water after him.

“Hey,” Alex said weakly, willing himself to keep his eyes on her face, at least as long as she was looking at him.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Emily asked, waiting for a wave, the water lapping at and channeled between her trim thighs.

“Yeah,” Alex said emphatically. “And you… you look amazing, Emily.”

She seemed genuinely happy. He wasn’t sure, because right about that time, a wave hit and she lost her footing, ending up in water up to her neck and squealing in surprise. She was pulled back by the undertow, and Alex bent and lifted her back to her feet, catching her by her waist and setting her on her feet. That left her standing close to him, and as much as he intended to open his arms and let her go, that didn’t happen.

“Hey, cut that out,” Emily said, smiling as she shrugged out of his arms. “Do you want to swim?”

“Yeah,” Alex said with relief.

Emily was a strong swimmer, much more so than himself, and after the first few minutes she slowed her pace so he could keep up. They made it past where the swells started, out at the edge of the area protected by the cove. Ahead of them, deeper blue waters ran with the current south, away to the China Sea. They stopped at the edge of the cove by unspoken agreement, treading water and looking around. Alex was doubly nervous – he had only started swimming in the ocean a few days ago, and he still wasn’t a confident swimmer. Despite the clarity of the water he couldn’t see all the way to the bottom, and in the shadows there, he wondered if there were sharks and other shark-like things.

She smiled at him, and for once, it didn’t seem to be for his benefit. It could have been that she enjoyed swimming, or because she was happy to be there, on the island. Alex rolled onto his back, floating with his face pointed up at the late-afternoon blue of the skies, bobbing along with the swells. He glanced back in the direction of the shore, and saw Timor forcing his way through the break, pulling Anastasia along behind him. He was surprised to see that she was wearing a black bikini, and that she looked better in it than he could have ever expected. Then he realized what he was staring at, and decided to dive, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He bobbed up thirty seconds later, much closer to Emily than he’d intended. He went to swim away but she caught onto the upper part of his arm.

“You’re stronger now,” she said shyly, treading water with such ease that he felt like a child, splashing about beside her. “When you first came to the Academy you were so skinny.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, suddenly afflicted with cottonmouth. “You seem like you are in a good mood, today.”

“Oh,” she said, looking away and smiling cryptically. “Maybe something good happened.”

“Okay,” Alex said, uncertainly, wondering how long he could tread water before he drowned.

“Can I ask you something?” Emily asked, looking worried.

“Sure,” Alex panted, trying to suggest with his eyes that this was a conversation that they could have on land. Emily wasn’t biting.

“Are you having fun here? At all?”

“Sure!” Alex said, working hard to keep his head above the water. “No, this is awesome. I don’t think I’ve ever left California, you know?”

“That’s good,” Emily said, not looking too happy about it. “Anastasia told me about a path up to the top of the hill, where there is a good view of the stars. I wondered if you felt like going for a walk with me tonight.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that would be great,” Alex said, with obvious strain.

“You don’t sound too happy about it…” Emily pouted.

“No,” Alex protested, “it’s just that I’m kind of starting to drown…”

Emily laughed and Alex tried, but he had already swallowed too much water. He hoped she couldn’t tell how desperate his swim back to shore was, but by the time he made it to the shallows where he could stand, his legs were shaking beneath him. Anastasia glided by, riding along the foam of a dwindling wave, and smirked at him.

“Poor Alex,” she said cheerfully. “Always in over his head.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What a total surprise,” Katya said tiredly. “I am starting to get the impression that the number of things you do understand can be counted on one hand. Now tell Auntie Kat what it is you don’t get.”

“Why are you suddenly acting like you’re older than me?” Alex asked, his arm extended self-consciously in front of him, as if he were a traffic cop gesturing for the foliage in front of him to stop. “Never mind. Why do I have to hold my arm out like this? I feel stupid.”

“You need to learn to gauge distance,” Katya said, reluctantly setting her rice paper-wrapped spring roll down on the table and walking over to where Alex stood. “Depth is the hardest part of aiming a protocol. It’s not like a gun; you don’t aim in two dimensions. Everybody can get the other two axis’s down, but the last one is a bitch. With your arm out – what’s your reach, anyway?”