Time Past

by Maxine McArthur

  “I just thought I’d drop in and see Maria,” said Murdoch. “Nice bread.”

  “It’s from the corner shop,” said Grace. “You gotta support your local businesses, I reckon.”

  And she didn’t have to carry it all the way from the markets.

  “How did you know Maria was here?” Levin asked Murdoch. “I thought she knew nobody in this country?”

  “We met just after she arrived,” said Murdoch smoothly. “She said she was going to Sydney. I asked around when I got here.”

  “What is your line of work?”

  “This and that. I’ve done a bit of security work in my time.” His eyes rested on the other, considering. “How about you, Mr. Levin?” He hesitated just enough to be noticeable on the name, long enough to hint a challenge.

  Cut it out, Bill. I tried to signal him with my eyes.

  “I trade,” said Levin. “In hardware.”

  “I didn’t notice a warehouse,” said Murdoch.

  “Middlemen are necessary in any industry,” said Levin smoothly, and took a long draft of his beer.

  I wiped sweaty hands on my trousers and wished for a small hyperspace tunnel to open between now and the end of the night. Then I wouldn’t have to sit through this.

  “You hungry?” Grace said to Levin.

  He smiled at her, then dropped his gaze to the plate of sausages. A fly had sneaked in and was hovering over them, deterred only by occasional waves of Grace’s hand.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not hungry.”

  Grace shrugged and picked up her beer again.

  Will appeared at her elbow, after playfully punching Murdoch on the way and getting tickled. “C’n I have another sausage?”

  “Yeah, go for it,” said Grace. “Bread’s there.”

  “Don’t want any bread.” He pulled a conspiratorial face of disgust to me, then bore off two sausages to his place in front of the vidscreen. Cartoon voices kept up a constant flow of inanity.

  Levin had ignored Will completely. “Are you staying long, Mr. McGrath?”

  “As long as I need to,” said Murdoch. He was leaning back in his chair again, outwardly relaxed, but not tilting the chair like he’d done before Levin came in. His feet were now firmly on the ground, ready.

  Ready for what, I wasn’t sure. Could Murdoch see something in Levin I’d missed, or was this some kind of male rivalry thing?

  “Hear the news about the airport closing?” Grace said.

  “No,” I said. “Which airport?”

  “Are you planning a trip, then?” Levin’s lip curled.

  The sarcasm reached Grace. She flushed and put her can down with a crunch. “Course not. Just making conversation. No need to get shitty.”

  “Which airport?” I said.

  “It does not affect us directly,” said Levin. “Who cares?”

  “You sure?” Murdoch said slowly. “The newspaper said police suspected some of the guns came from inner-city gangs. Like around here.”

  “What news?” I raised my voice.

  Grace leaned over, as though she was ducking the almost palpable waves of hostility that crossed the table between Levin and Murdoch.

  “They found some guns at the airport, looks like the owners panicked and ran. It’s shut down today while the cops sniff around.”

  All I knew about air travel was its hideous expense due to the cost of fuel and the security involved.

  “When I was a kid,” Grace continued, trying to catch both Levin’s and Murdoch’s eyes, “everyone caught planes here and there. Well, nearly everyone,” she amended. “We only did it once, when Auntie Jen got married in Perth. That was a brilliant wedding. Everyone was pissed for three days. We kids sank Uncle Ray’s ute in the river and nobody noticed till weeks later.” She grinned. “What a year that was.”

  Levin leaned back in his chair and watched the cartoon. His attitude said he’d heard this story before.

  “You ever do anything stupid when you were a kid, Maria?” said Grace. “Not that you think it’s stupid at the time. Just fun.”

  I could remember several ridiculous escapades for which my grandmother made me pay dearly later, but I didn’t feel like sharing them with Grace now.

  “Maria looks like she’s had a bad day,” said Levin, abandoning the televid for more immediate entertainment. “Maybe she hasn’t found what she’s looking for.”

  “What do you mean?” Grace looked from me to Levin.

  “Nothing.” I scowled at the tabletop because I didn’t want to ask Levin for help but knew I’d have to.

  “Whatever.” Grace scowled back and turned to Murdoch. “How’s the work at the school going, Bill?”

  “He’s getting popular,” put in Will.

  “It’s a lot of fun,” said Murdoch. “I haven’t played with kids for a long time.”

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” I said to Murdoch. Grace had begun to explain recent changes in the public school system to him at length, interspersed with an explanation of why Vince had never finished ninth grade.

  Levin met my eyes, and followed me to the back door. “You need my help,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “Yes. I need a laser for my telescope.” “Which one?” “I need something I can program to a repetition rate of between ten and a thousand Hertz, a main wavelength of five thirty-two and a pulse width of about thirty picoseconds.” I slapped at mosquitoes that descended out of nowhere. His face was expressionless and I had no idea if he understood, or even if he was joking with me. “So, how much?”

  “Probably about two hundred.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said flatly. “These things are nearly junk, I could get one for free.”

  “Not easily. And not soon.”

  “How much of that is your commission?”

  He said nothing.

  “I can’t afford two hundred. I can barely afford fifty.”

  “That’s regrettable.”

  “Come off it, Levin. You know how little they pay me.”

  He pretended to study his boot.

  Murdoch came out, stubbing his toe on the brick step as I did every time I visited.

  “Fifty, then,” said Levin. “Are you in a hurry?”

  Yes, I screamed inwardly. I need it by tomorrow.

  “The sooner the better.” I mentally ran through a list of people who might lend me money.

  He turned back inside without further word.

  Murdoch narrowed his eyes. “What’s all that about?” he said as we started walking.

  “He’s going to try to get me the laser for my array. I couldn’t get it again today. Haven’t been able to find one as junk, either.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  I shrugged. “Nor do I, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be useful to us.”

  “What does he do, run drugs?”

  “I don’t think so. But I’m sure he’s got something to do with weapons and the gangs. Don’t know what, though.”

  “Charming bloke to do business with.”

  I felt a rush of irritation with Murdoch. Here I was, doing my best to get us home, and all he could do was quibble about details that I had no control over.

  “I’m not entering into a trade agreement here. He gets me a laser, I pay him, finished.”

  Murdoch’s voice in the dark sounded abstracted. “Yeah, right. But I’d like to know more about him.”

  Eight

  To pay Levin, I scraped the money together with a loan from Florence and the result of a hasty job done for the local electronics retailer. Murdoch didn’t like the borrowing. “You won’t pay it back if the Invidi send us home,” he said.

  I didn’t like it either, but we didn’t have a choice. If we wanted to try to contact the Invidi as quickly and as efficiently as possible, we needed the laser. I could almost feel time on both sides of the jump point sliding away beneath me. We would have only twenty-four days from when the Invidi arrived to get home for the neutrality vote, which would be 29 May 2023 here, a
nd—hopefully—late February 2123 on Jocasta.

  Levin produced the laser on Tuesday. I couldn’t believe he’d been so quick. He woke me up early in the morning. The stubble on his chin was darker than usual, as though he’d been up all night and had not yet shaved. I stood in the doorway of the tent, Murdoch peering over my shoulder.

  Levin took the money, stuffed it carelessly in his pocket, and handed me a small cylinder.

  I checked it carefully, to his unconcealed amusement. The laser fitted all my specs.

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “Just sensible business, making sure of the goods. You’re a businessman. You should understand.”

  “Indeed. My goods are always genuine.”

  “What other sorts of goods can you find?” I rolled the laser in my hand. “Goods that might be more dangerous than this?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “A good businessman—or woman—does not question their source of supply.”

  “A good businesswoman doesn’t deal with someone who could land her in jail,” said Murdoch behind me.

  “There is no danger of that.” Levin scowled. For the first time since I’d known him he seemed to be tired and grumpy like a normal person. “What does it matter to you what else I deal in?”

  “If you deal in weapons,” I said, “it would make me nervous. Seeing how so many weapons get into the hands of children. Like Will and Vince.”

  “If I did, and if I said, oh sorry I’ll stop, ” Levin mimicked my tone, “it wouldn’t matter. They’ll get their weapons somewhere else. They want to die.”

  He caught our astonished gazes. “If they had some hope in life, they wouldn’t need weapons, would they? Or drugs.”

  “So you just see yourself as the supplier?” said Murdoch.

  Levin laughed. “Oh, no, Mr. Policeman. You don’t get a confession from me.”

  “What do you mean, ‘policeman’?” said Murdoch.

  Levin shrugged. “You might not be now, but you have been at some time, McGrath. I’ve known a lot of coppers. I recognize the flat-footed walk and the way you can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

  Murdoch kept his face bland. “I told you I did security work.”

  Levin’s face was also expressionless. “I did think you might be useful to us. We can always use ex-coppers who know the ropes. Like we can use good hackers.” He stared at me. “Interested, Maria?”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” said Murdoch.

  “Not interested,” I said.

  Levin turned away without saying anything further.

  We stood outside the tent and watched him stalk away into the early morning, his black jacket a distinctive blot until he turned the corner.

  “Bloody suspicious, if you ask me,” said Murdoch. “He might not have a warehouse, but his garden shed’s full of fertilizer.”

  “So?” I was thinking of the program alterations I’d have to make to the digital processor.

  “Used for homemade bombs. And he’s got a couple of drums of other stuff, too.”

  I stared at him. “You’ve been snooping around Levin’s shed?”

  He blinked back at me innocently. “No, I helped Grace clean out the spare bedroom. We took some stuff out to the shed, and I happened to have a squizz at what’s in there.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, shut it again. Murdoch’s proximity in the tent doorway was making me almost as hot and breathless as if Henoit had stood there. I cleared my throat and stepped away into the fresh air, shaking off the sensation.

  “Only three ways he could have gotten this laser,” I said when I was breathing normally. “He’s got access to old stocks, or to people who have access to old stocks. And there aren’t many. Or he’s got black-market connections, which is what I thought anyway. Black-market electronics is a huge business. Or...” I wasn’t sure of this last one.

  “Or?”

  “Or he’s got contacts in the official defense industry, because now it’s the only place this type of laser is used. They need it for some of the older weapons.”

  “That might be how he supplies the gangs,” said Murdoch with distaste. “He probably does know people in the industry. Does he really believe you need the laser for a telescope?”

  I stretched. “What else might he think?”

  “He could be worried you’re working for a competitor, making weapons. Homemade stuff.”

  “He might be worried because you’re snooping around.”

  “Good job I did, now we know what he’s like.”

  “The deal with Levin’s finished, stop worrying about it.”

  The pale apricot stillness magnified the sounds of a door banging, voices raised in the neighboring street, the mutter of people roused too early from sleep. In the background, the ever-present hum of the city, the irregular beat of the motorway. The out-town was peaceful at this hour. Tin roofs, wired window frames, crude verandas, all softened by the gentle light.

  “But why is he helping you? Doesn’t make sense.” Murdoch persisted. “He could be setting you up.”

  “For what? The police aren’t going to arrest me because I’ve got a homemade telescope.”

  “No, but they’ll arrest you for being an illegal if Levin informs on you.”

  “I know that. But we’ve only got until Friday. Three more days, counting today. I didn’t have time to look anywhere else.”

  “I suppose it’s safe,” he grumbled. “But I don’t trust him.”

  “Forget Levin. Where did you go yesterday? More snooping?” He’d stayed out until nine or ten P.M. I’d struggled unsuccessfully against worry that he’d been mugged.

  “Talking with Vince.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s not a bad kid. Him and his mates are pretty typical, I reckon. They’re loyal to their small group and damn everyone else. But from another angle, they’re just making themselves a safe place because nobody else will make it for them. Sensible, really.”

  “Most of Vince’s behavior doesn’t strike me as sensible.”

  “Doesn’t mean there’s no logic behind it. You just gotta figure out what it is.”

  “Like an alien species.”

  “Yeah. You might not sympathize, but at least you’ll understand a bit better.”

  “Or like donkeys,” I said absently.

  “Wha-at?” Murdoch gaped at me.

  “It’s an old story.” I wished I hadn’t mentioned it. “My great-grandmother used to tell us this story about donkeys.”

  “Go on.”

  “She said that when a donkey stops in the middle of the road, you give it a whack with a stick, right? But the donkey doesn’t learn not to stop on roads; it learns that by stopping it can make you angry.”

  Murdoch grinned. “A different logic.”

  “Yes. It used to remind me of K’Cher. You have to find out how that logic works or you end up expending a lot of energy for no purpose and both of you get frustrated.”

  It’s strange, the things that remain in your memory from childhood conversations, from details and scenery you never realized you were noticing at the time. These things bridge time and space as successfully as Invidi jump drives.

  I came back to the tent late that night after fitting the laser. I’d have liked to do a test run, but the glue on the fitting had to dry more and I needed to be there in the morning before Florence arrived, to pack it up out of her way and safely away from prying eyes. Now that I’d finally put it all together, we couldn’t risk theft or damage.

  Murdoch was already asleep, sprawled facedown on his mattress, the light on and a newspaper by his trailing hand as though he’d fallen asleep reading it. I’d sent him back to the tent when he came to pick me up at about ten o’clock. He didn’t complain, but he looked tired—perhaps the twenty-first-century viruses were undermining his immune system too.

  I turned off the light, undressed and got into bed, but couldn’t sleep. My thoughts kept scurrying around in familiar circles. When I
shut my eyes I could see the details of the telescope assembly. Every creak of the tent pole, every distant thud or clatter seemed magnified. I found myself listening to Murdoch’s regular breathing. He sounded so comfortable, I was overcome by a callous urge to disturb him. I imagined sitting beside him on the bed, sliding my feet beneath the tattered blanket, putting one hand on the back that rose and fell so peacefully...

  My breathing caught again, not from asthma, but from the feeling I used to get when Henoit, or any H’digh for that matter, walked into a room and the effect of their pheromones hit me. As though the slightest touch of anything upon my skin would be the signal for immeasurable pleasure.

  Imitations of H’digh pheromones were exchanged galaxy-wide as aphrodisiacs, and it was said that humans who experienced sexual acts with them were forever “tainted”— they retained enough of the pheromone to send other humans mad with desire. It was also said that these tainted humans did not live long, as they became quickly insane. I had always dismissed this as space-talk, particularly as I had neither gone mad nor sent other humans crawling up walls.

  Now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I had enough pheromones left in me to activate the pleasure center of the brain. Not that it felt like the brain had much to do with it.

  Images of Henoit kept popping into my mind; Henoit on Jocasta, appearing out of nowhere, arrogant and unrepentant at his terrorist activities. I hadn’t seen that lean, muscled figure for seven years, but he’d looked as young as ever. Henoit when I first met him, an exotic unknown who couldn’t quite explain why he’d chosen me to be his mate; Henoit saying we were destined to bond; Henoit’s eyes meeting mine for the first time on our first night together... but here I stopped.

  Any further and I’d embarrass myself by waking Murdoch, and embarrass myself further by not caring.

  Humans have spent over a century trying to dispel the romantic notion that two people are suited to each other and each other only, drawn together by Fate. Then we find that the H’digh have built a whole society around that same notion. And it works nicely, thank you. For them. Nor death shall us part, ran part of that damn couplet Henoit used to quote at me from a marriage song.