“I was just cross ‘cause that MTI what’s his name—”
“Flanders—”
“Ripped me up and down, that’s all,” he says, shrugging.
“Yeah but you didn’t sign up for this,” I say. he’s a project 10, so he’s required to serve, which I always thought was pretty rotten, but more so now that I know him.
“No, well---I don’t know,” he says, shrugging, “You make the best of it. I’m glad you’re here. and Major Tom is great I’m really glad she’s not---”
“Major Card?” I ask, dryly.
“Oh my god, going on the simulators with him about killed me, and we were on the ground,” he says, “I don’t know how I’d feel up in space.”
“I’m not looking forward to it,” I admit, “I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about the flying I didn’t like and then I realized---he’s so calculated with everything and that, it feels so random, so sudden, every move like that of a lunatic---except he’s doing that intentionally. That’s why they can’t shoot him down, because they can’t anticipate his next move.”
“Good, then you won’t get shot down either,” he says, looking back down at his tablet.
“No, come on, we’ve gotten off topic----you have seemed depressed lately---and you’ve been spending so much time trying to keep me---”
“Sane?”
“I was going to say cheerful---”
“You’re never cheerful I just go for ‘less morose’ with you---”
“Fair enough---sane what with trying to keep up with Major Card, that I feel like I’ve been neglecting making sure you’re okay,” I say, “I wanted to become a Spaceman, you’re just---fulfilling it.”
“You only wanted to become a Spaceman to get away,” he says.
“Yeah, well,” I sigh, looking around. This place is beautiful still to me. To Terrance it is the cruel institution that bred him, to me, a poor boy from a poor family, used to living in one room flats without heat in the winter, cold cans of food we were lucky to have, out on the street if I didn’t like that or if we didn’t pay the rent which we never did, this place was heaven. I was actually loved, got several square meals a day, and had my fill of videos and books. Terrance had grown up with as much. I didn’t blame him for wanting more. “That’s true but---I see how you must be tired of this.”
“Yeah, well, I’m used to it, and we get to be together, imagine if we’d had different SFSC’s,” he points out.
“Come on, tell me how you are, really,” I say, leaning across the table to him.
“Okay it’s just---it doesn’t make sense when I say it---”
“Doesn’t matter, I’m crazy remember?” I ask, smiling.
“Okay it’s just---I’m sick of all of our free time being this, counseling each other, to be okay with the world around us, not being I don’t know---”
“Amazing?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head, “I don’t know. How do you do it?”
“Do what?” I ask.
“Live and go on, like, before you got here before you got commissioned,” he says.
“Lots of people aren’t here,” I say, confused.
“Lots of people aren’t you---you’re brilliant, ridiculously cleverer than absolutely everybody else, and you’re just a kid like me and you’re twice as clever as everybody above you. how on earth do you stay this okay?” he asks. “I’m stupid and regular and it takes me hours and hours to get over the stupidity and the monotony of it so----and I know it’s not easy for you but it must be even worse since you’re so much more than everyone, so—tell me how you do it.”
“I don’t know,” I say, “I’d sooner think of a way to cheer you up than think about how to explain my brain.”
“I want to know though,” he says.
“Fair enough, I’ll think about it, still, I’m going to think of something to brighten your days,” I say.
“You brighten my days,” he says, squeezing my hand quickly before pulling his hand back. I smile at him. I’m used to hiding my sexuality for the fear of being harassed; he has been harassed. His own mother said she wouldn’t speak to him if he brought it up again so she hadn’t. He flippantly said he wondered what she’d say when he kept bringing me around but we didn’t talk about it. And I knew he was hurt. The benefit of not having anybody responsible for me is that I can’t be disowned. I still don’t want Major Card knowing, on principle. I have examined if it was because he was a father figure to me, and I truly wish that was true. More the truth was he would ask rude/annoying/graphic questions and in general bother me about it when I really don’t like talking to people other than Terrance to begin with.
Chapter 11
“W
hen you said ‘get a look at her’, I thought you were being figurative,” I moan, I’m sitting on a rooftop with my head in my hands, next to my-----lunatic?----ex? Friend? Person I unfortunately know? Yeah, kind of that last one.
“I’m rarely figurative---what you didn’t expect me to go and meet this person without doing research?” the person I unfortunately know asks; he’s still looking through his night vision goggles at the street below. I’m sure of it.
“No, I expected you to research, by yourself, on your tablet,” I moan, “Not stalk her.”
“I’m not stalking her---”
“Standing on a rooftop dressed in black looking through binoculars is literally the definition of stalking---”
“It’s not stalking, we have a child together,” he reasons.
“That is what makes it that much creepier,” I sigh. I knew it. I knew better than agreeing to do something with him however ostensibly nice and decent.
“It is for Tess’s own good, I’m making sure that this person is decent enough for her to meet,” he says.
“Well, what have you found out?” I ask.
“I thought you weren’t interested.”
“I’ll want to know our trip was productive when the police are questioning us and this poor woman is pressing charges,” I say.
“Nothing poor about her, she has a functioning IQ of 280,” he says.
“Oh, is that good?” I ask. I genuinely don’t know I don’t care about those things if I need somebody fantastically clever I just go to Titus.
“Good? It’s off the charts,” he says, disgustedly, “They match prospective parents by IQ scores, she was the only female in the program with a score matching mine.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll get along, so why don’t we meet her instead of stalking her?” I ask.
“Because I want to make sure it isn’t some sort of mistake in the test,” he says, “Which it certainly looks like---”
“First off: would you really not let Tess meet her if she wasn’t as clever as you---”
“Yes.”
“Okay that’s really wrong, so---secondly: how do you plan on finding out if she isn’t clever by staring at her from a rooftop?” I growl, finally taking my head out of my hands to argue with him properly.
“Because she is going on a date with a high-functioning sociopath who I’m 78 percent sure is a cannibal,” he says, calmly.
“Okay that isn’t very smart---wait how on Kepler can you possibly tell---from way up here, she is dating a sociopathic cannibal?” I ask.
“Oh that’s easy, he’s my older brother,” he says.
“What!?” I ask, “I thought your brothers were blithering idiots or dead or something.”
“They are the former, the latter-----I wish,” he sighs.
“I recognize you would know he’s sociopathic but what makes you think he’s a cannibal?” I ask.
“I tried to brain wash him into becoming one----don’t look at me like that Major Tom I was six, that sort of thing sounds like a good idea when you’re six----I don’t know if it worked,” he says, looking away from the binoculars to see me glaring at him.
“No, that sort of thing does not sound like a good idea when you’re six or ever,” I cry.
“Didn’t it occur to you they might try to eat you?” I ask.
“No, I told them I didn’t taste good---well I was only six,” he says, defensively.
“That’s horrible, Titus, what is wrong with you?” I ask, shoving his arm to make him look at me again.
“One has to make this life livable, Major Tom,” he says, looking at me.
“Yes, one does,” I say, kissing him before standing up.
“Where are you going?” he asks, closing his mouth like he’s savoring the taste of me. I know I am of him.
“To make this life livable,” I call.
“Tess, how do you feel losing your friend?” my dad calls the psychiatrist ‘the quack’, everyone really does. I don’t think he lacks education or moral stamina. I also don’t think he’ll help me. because I don’t need help.
“I don’t care,” I say.
“Do you think about him?” he asks.
“No,” I say, “Not now that he’s gone. Why would I? he isn’t here.”
“He used to be.”
“But now he’s not. so it doesn’t matter,” I say, cocking my head. It doesn’t make sense to me. Why I would think about Aiden when there isn’t an Aiden anymore?
“Okay,” the quack sighs, “Do you think you’d miss your dad if he were to die?”
“He’s not going to die he always comes back,” I say.
“Supposing he did.”
“Supposing he did I wouldn’t think about him. because he’d be gone,” I say.
“Okay, we’re not getting anywhere.”
“No, you’re right. We’re not.”
“Close your eyes,” I whisper, holding my hands over Terrance’s’ eyes because I don’t trust him.
“What’re you doing?” he laughs.
“You asked me, last night, how I do it, what I do with my mind when I’m not busy---to keep me from going mad---and I realized I didn’t have the words to explain it,” I say, standing behind him, my hands still over his eyes, “So, I decided to show you.”
“What---what is it?” he asks, as I take my hands off of his eyes. he looks around the room, to see spinning images of dozens of pictures, all emanating from a small projector I set in the middle of the floor of our dorm room. he smiles, walking up to the wall, the images reflecting on the back of his head as he stares, reaching out to touch the wall.
“It’s what’s inside my head, when I close my eyes,” I say.
He laughs, spinning around. He’s smiling. That’s what I wanted.
“What---everything?” he asks. There are pictures of space ships and trees and houses and him and children laughing and pet lizards and the stars and books and mountains and---everything.
“Yes, everything I want to see or do in the universe. Somehow, I’ll figure out how to do it, and I’m home,” I say, “When I was a boy, dreaming of somehow getting away, becoming something else, something greater, I would lie in bed, squeezing my eyes shut, imagining over and over how I’d make it happen.”
“Thank you,” he says, turning around to me.
“For what?” I ask.
“For letting me into your world,” he says, putting his arms around me.
I slump down on the roof. It won’t do any good to keep looking I know what I need to about her and---and I don’t bloody care. The only woman I care about just walked away from me. This doesn’t matter. Being here doesn’t matter. It won’t bring her back. you’re cleverer than anyone else alive. and all you want is for her to come back and kiss you again. so go figure it out, you bloody genius, Titus. Figure out how to make her happy with you again.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, moving my curls out of my face. I can’t stand my hair down but I know I look better with it.
“Sorry,” Jacob says, averting his eyes, a smile on his face.
“No—what is it? I want to know what you’re thinking,” I say, moving to walk backwards in front of him.
“I was enjoying being surprised you agreed to come with me tonight,” he admits, shrugging a little.
“Still?” I ask, laughing.
“Yes, still. It doesn’t happen very often to me,” he says, holding his hands up, innocently.
“Okay,” I say. It doesn’t happen very often to me either. Going out with someone just because I want to. But I plan on enjoying it while it lasts.
“They aren’t so nervous,” he nods ahead to his step daughter and her boyfriend, who are giggling and holding hands happily.
“No, it was easy back then, wasn’t it?” I ask.
“I suppose----no that’s a lie not really,” he says, making me laugh.
“Why, what were you doing back then?” I ask.
“Living at home, trying to help my mum support me and my brothers and sister because our dead beat father left after my youngest brother was born,” I say, with a sigh. Coming home every morning exhausted from working the night shift at the hospital, falling into bed as the younger ones were getting out. Only to discover my bed had been sabotaged in an insidious prank by the five year old who I swear to god was trying to brainwash me as I slept.
“That’s rotten of him,” she says.
“Yeah, well, if you’d met my youngest brother you wouldn’t blame him. none of us did really,” I say, shrugging, “What about you?”
“Oh, going to medical school, that was fun, and that was before my mum got sick, so we worried less about money than we did after she got sick,” I say. those blissful days before I had my daughter. Before every waking minute I was reminded of how I should be with her. when I was young and I thought I’d fall in love and get married and have this wonderful house and gorgeous husband and six healthy little children and we would go to our sweet little enriching jobs and make love every night once the kids were in bed. Stupid the way life is.
“Yeah, med school was fun---I was working as a nurse since I only had a scholarship through trade school, so I wound up sleeping four hours a day in the library before classes, then to work, then sleep and back to classes, I told my mum I’d rented a flat so she wouldn’t expect me home,” he says, smiling dryly, “I appreciate these days, coming home, cooking dinner for about three hours, sipping wine and reading for another hour while Bridget does her homework. Going for a quiet walk in the evenings.”
“Yeah,” I say. I do not. I try to. but all I can think of is how my daughter should be here. in my decent flat with my decent food. I sigh. But this evening is fun. I won’t do anything for her now I know that. Just talk to him. enjoy tonight. “You had a big family, do you still see much of them?”
“Lord no. They’re mostly gone,” he says, with relief.
“Gone?” I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Well all my brothers are in prison but one, my sister was murdered when she was close to Bridget’s age, and I’ve not spoken to my mum in years,” he says.
“What happened to the one who isn’t in prison?” I ask, “Are you two close?”
“No, he joined Space Forces, did quite well last I heard, very good at shooting aliens or something. I haven’t spoken to him since he enlisted, but I heard he got captured,” he explains.
“That’s terrible---he survived?” I ask. Only once or twice, I think, I’ve ever heard of them escaping from the aliens.
“Oh yes, the Isylgyns didn’t want him either, apparently---that makes complete sense if you ever meet him which I hope you never have the misfortune of doing,” he says, laughing a little.
“Okay,” I say.
“What about you? Any family?” he asks.
“No, my mum died six years ago, it was only ever just us,” I say, shaking my head.
“How sad, and decently normal, I hated my family,” he says.
“That’s too bad,” I say, “You said you don’t talk to your mother?”
“No, mostly because s
he’s directly responsible for my youngest brother being alive,” he says, shrugging.
“That’s awful,” I say, trying not to laugh.
“Yes, I suppose, I’m much better off,” he says, tentatively walking closer to me as though to take my hand. “I’ve got my family now, that one up there, and the life I want. Not many people can say the same.”
“No, they can’t,” I say. I know I can’t.
Chapter 12
“H
i,” I say, stupidly.
“Hi,” Ziggy says, standing in the doorway.
“I just----I really don’t know I’m sorry, I’m just going to go,” I say, stepping back and turning to go.
“No—don’t. I’m glad you came. I was sort of upset our talk in the woods got interrupted,” he says, smiling a little.
“Me too, that’s why I came-- then I---”
“Felt like you shouldn’t be here?” he asks.
“Yeah------But I should let you go---and---sleep and---throw up or---whatever you were going to do tonight I really don’t want to impose,” I say, stepping back again.
“No it’s fine---it’s just fine I’ve thrown up it’s good---I wasn’t doing anything,” he says.
“But, we do have to get up early,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah we do,” he says.
“And I’ve got the cadets to watch and---I should keep an eye on them. Titus is really mean to them,” I say.
“Yeah and that would follow.”
“So I should go.”
“Yeah.”
We both stand there looking at each other. Then he leans forward and kisses me.
“I’m sorry I---” he says, “I didn’t mean---”
“No really the only reason I came was so you could do that,” I say.
“Okay, good that was why I was hoping you’d come.”
“Yeah okay.”
“Okay,” he says, smiling.
“Goodnight,” I say, backing away, for good this time.
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