The Martian Pendant

by Patrick Taylor

  “Wait one moment,” Diana said, “some of my makeup and other belongings are in that. Surely the U.S. Government wouldn’t classify a lady’s personal items, would they?” Then, under the watchful eye of the FBI man, she opened it and produced her make-up kit and a small bag of toiletries.

  Bobby observed, “With the clothes we have on, I doubt that make-up and toothpaste will make any difference. What we need are dollars!”

  Regarding her son with affection, Diana replied, “When you are older, my boy, you will find that ladies require as much of these things as money. Father wired funds more than sufficient to make it all the way to the West Coast, and to secure an apartment there as well.” She couldn’t tell him then that the vial of fossil mandible drillings was also in the kit.

  As they left the police station, Diana asked where they could find a car rental agency.

  “You’ll find one in the hotel next to the bus station,” the sergeant replied.

  “Mum,” Bobby said, “That’s where that coffee shop is!”

  Diana was not one to worry about how things might have been, but reflected, Had we known, we’d be nearly across Nevada by now. She said out loud, “We need some new clothes, Bobby. We’ll stop at a clothier after securing an auto.”

  Retracing their steps, they found the rental office on the hotel mezzanine. Again more than the usual red tape had to be endured, but by early afternoon, they were on their way, each in new clothes, plus overnight bags with changes.

  The drive across Nevada was uneventful, although they remained alert to the possibility of being followed. Their stay in Las Vegas overnight was enough to alienate them permanently from such glitz and neon, resulting in an early start the next morning. After their desert crossing of Southern California, nearing the Los Angeles basin, they were greeted by the cool marine layer, the low clouds common in the late spring and summer.

  “Look at the mist, pouring over the hills,” she exclaimed. “It looks just like a colossal gray cataract. Isn’t it beautiful, Bobby?”

  But her son was sound asleep, the angelic look on his face bringing again those mixed emotions. Too soon he’ll be a man. Will he then be lost to me? She couldn’t help think then of having lost Bobby’s father in the war over Germany. As her eyes moistened with the recollection, she recalled something her mother had once told her. “A properly raised child is never actually lost by a parent. Only old priorities.”

  How true, she thought. Now, I’m number one, but one day he’ll find the love of his life. To be hoped is that as full as his heart may become, he’ll save some room in it for me. But as those thoughts occurred, she knew her duty to her son was to assure that he ultimately would find his way without her. And she had a duty to herself--and to him. Something she had neglected too long. He needed a father as he grew into manhood, and her needs included such a man. Thinking of Dan brought another smile to her face. She said to herself, Why not? We most certainly love each other, and we hit it off famously from the very beginning. It was just that I wasn’t ready then for another love such as I enjoyed with Bobby’s father during the war. But Danny was like her lost leftenant in so many ways. Would he constantly remind her of that wartime romance, or would their being together spur her love to attain new heights? She resolved then that she would marry him.

  Meeting Bobby’s grandparents for the first time would be bittersweet. She wondered whether she and her son would be at ease with them, as there had never been much correspondence, except for an occasional letter from his grandfather. Quite a reserved man, he had communicated little except that her lost bombardier’s mother had never accepted that her son had been killed in action. At their next stop to fill the tank, she took added time to pretty up. Then, from the pay phone, she called their number.

  If his mother had lived in a state of denial for thirteen years, that changed at the front door. When her eyes alighted on Bobby, she almost fainted. It was as if her son, at an earlier age, had returned. She was too excited to invite them in, calling out, “Phil, come quickly, it’s like a dream!”

  At not quite five feet tall, Dixie didn’t even reach Bobby’s chin, but the ardor she expressed in her bear hug would have physically challenged a grown man. Bobby returned the embrace carefully, as much in self-defense as with affection.

  “Grandmother,” he gasped, pulling away and rubbing his ribs, “It’s good to see you, I think.”

  When Bobby’s grandfather reached the door, he said, “Come in, come in!” Indicating the nearby sofa, he added, “Sit down, you must be tired after your long trip.”

  Neglected until then, Diana introduced herself, gesturing toward Bobby, “And this is your grandson, Philip B. Taylor the Third. He’ll be fourteen in August.” Under her breath she said, let her do the math if she has any doubts.

  His grandmother had none whatsoever. Looking at Bobby, she exclaimed, “Phil! He’s the image of Bobby! Oh, my baby,” she cried, “Come here!” Now in tears, she sobbed, “All these years I’ve deluded myself; can you ever forgive me?”

  “Of course, grandmother, I’ve always yearned for a full set of four grandparents, especially with my father gone, you know.”

  “And you, my dear,” she said, for the first time regarding Diana, “How lovely you are. I can see how our son lost his heart to you!”

  Diana, warming quickly and giving her a hug, replied, motioning toward Bobby, “And here’s proof indeed that I lost my heart to him.”

  Phil brought drinks on a tray, setting glasses down on the coffee table in front of them. To Diana he gave a vodka and tonic, while handing Bobby a Coke.

  “Here’s looking at you,” Phil toasted literally, gazing at Diana and Bobby in admiration. She responded in kind, taking a sip after she added, “Cheers!”

  A glass of ice water in hand, Dixie asked if Bobby lived in London with her parents.

  “Quite so,” Diana replied. “Without a father, he at least has had a man around the house. His grandfather especially has always been helpful in filling in for Bobby’s lost dad.”

  “Lost is the correct word,” Dixie exclaimed. “I just can’t help think he must still be alive somewhere on the Continent. Maybe amnesic. If we only knew for certain. It’s not knowing that’s so bad.”

  “Dear,” Phil reminded her, “the Army was very specific, remember? First it was the telegram telling us he was missing in action, and then the final one, confirmed through the Red Cross, that he had been killed. You do remember the German priest who wrote you about his burial?”

  “Well, I can never accept his death, and that’s that,” she replied, with a finality that closed the subject for her.

  Diana put her hand sympathetically on Dixie's. “I know how you feel. I still dream about his returning from that last mission over the Reich. I was on duty at his Base at the time, you know, and very much involved in the air war, in my capacity as an officer in the Royal Engineers. I’ll never get over the news that he would never return.”

  After the round of drinks, the English guests were given a tour of the home, after an invitation to put them up until suitable permanent accommodations could be arranged. Perched atop the ridge on Mulholland Drive above Hollywood, it had expansive glass windows to view the entire Los Angeles basin as well as the San Fernando Valley, but the house itself was quite small.

  Diana remarked, “Charming! On a clear night, the lights of the city below must be enchanting.” Turning to Phil, she asked, “But how shall you accommodate us with only two bedrooms?”

  “That’s easy, I’ll just move in with Dixie, and you and Bobby may have my bedroom. It has twin beds, and its own bath.”

  “Oh, we couldn’t inconvenience you like that; we’ll just book into a hotel for the night.”

  “Nonsense,” he said with a laugh, “it’s no problem for us at all. In fact, she’s been eager to share her double bed for some time now.”

  The next morning, well-fed and rested, Diana and Bobby thanked their newfound family, drove down to Hollywood, an
d then west to Culver City. She still held her position at the Buell Tool Company as one of their research analysts, and their security had recently been strengthened, she assured Bobby.

  Her young son laughed at that. “Mum, the word ‘Security’ sounds so grim. But in addition, we no longer possess anything of military value that the Soviets or anyone else would want.”

  Diana thought about that. Bobby was almost right. The only things she had were her pendant, the significance of which nobody seemed to grasp, and the drillings from the fossil mandible. Regarding the latter, she had little to fear from the anthropology establishment except, of course, professional jealousy.

  Although she had been away for more than a year, the guard at the gate at Buell recognized her instantly, and waved them through. It was fortunate, she thought, having lost her company ID, in addition to almost everything else, when the American Traveler went down. She was well-received by her old department chief, Arnie Levy, despite the failure of the expedition to please the Oil Cartel, Buell's partners in the GeoSat operation.

  “Diana,” he explained, “changes in the Department have occurred since you left. Your old position is no longer available. However, we’re forming a new division, in conjunction with the nuclear physics department at Caltech. I believe your experience in East Africa will be quite helpful in this new venture. It has to do with the dating of geological formations. As you know, rough measurements are possible by ‘reading the rocks,’ but we’re looking for something that could be accurate to a million years, rather than what we have now. I’ve read your paper about the Martian discovery, and also regarding the failure of present-day techniques to date organic material accurately beyond 50,000 years. Whether the solution will ultimately be in plant or animal deposits, or in mineral formations, will depend on several factors. But the answer will surely lie in the periodic table, and be tied to radioactive decay.

  “Marvelous,” Diana enthused, “I’m certain to love it. That’s the way I’m planning on establishing the age of the Martian landing as well.”

  * * *

  After he was forced to leave Chicago in such haste, Dan had been put to work in the file room at CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia. When his old boss was sacked by the President, he was relieved of the grinding tedium by the new chief of the CIA. Because of his record in Africa, he was again assigned to cover Diana’s activities in California. He leapt at the chance to be near her, in love as he was. Despite her elusiveness, he was convinced he had won her heart. This time, he thought, he would ask her to marry him.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Flames Old And New

  Following the visit to Buell, Diana and Bobby spent the rest of the day house- hunting. They finally settled on a nice two-storey Tudor rental, two blocks from the Pacific Palisades in Santa Monica. Because of its proximity to the ocean, the weather was breezy, sweeping the Los Angeles smog inland. Best of all for Diana was the occasional sea fog that evoked nostalgia of her childhood in London. The plaintive sound of foghorns added much at such times.

  Despite her young son’s company, Diana was lonely. She missed Dan terribly. Although from the time they first met she realized he had romantic feelings toward her, she had become so occupied by her ambitions that, despite being very fond of him, she had at first gently rebuffed his overtures. But since they had first slept together, she began to feel something else, and it was beginning to distract her from her work. She was, at thirty-seven, still a relatively young woman. The years since the death of Bobby’s father had not marred her looks even a little. If anything, time had enhanced them, adding a certain grace and elegance to her beauty.

  In addition to her work and research, she had the responsibility of parenting. As an adolescent, Bobby needed a mother’s--and a father’s--guidance more than ever. Spending time with her son was a delight, but he needed a man in the house, and so did she. Although Danny had no pretension of having a connection to Scotland’s queen, Mary Stuart, beheaded for her vying with Elizabeth I for the crown of Britain, Diana reflected on the irony. The Stuarts and the Howards, supporters of the Tudors, forming a union! She didn’t know that Dan, tasked to keep an eye on her as part of his CIA duty, had again joined Security at Buell, after a chasing her on her wild trip across the country.

  Diana and Bobby had just finished a dinner of his favorite, fish and chips, served up with heaps of coleslaw. While he washed his food down with huge amounts of milk, she sipped cold beer. After first coming to the U.S., it had taken some time to become accustomed to the pilsner style of American brew, taken icy cold. Now she preferred it to British stout. She had just finished her glass of beer when the phone rang. Bobby answered.

  “Mum, it’s Uncle Dan. I think he was taken aback when a man answered.”

  Diana knew that Bobby’s voice was changing. Now, she thought, as her heart pounded in delicious anticipation, there could be two men in her life.

  “Danny! How marvelous you called. I’ve been anticipating seeing you again.”

  From the other end of the line, Dan’s voice sounded dispirited. “It sounds like I’m interrupting something, Diana. Is there another man now?”

  “I indeed hope so,” she laughed.

  “What’s so funny? A man answered the phone, right? Unless I’m mistaken, and that’s your father on a visit.”

  “No, Danny, but he does sound at times just like his grandfather.”

  She could hear his sigh of relief. “You mean that was little Bobby?”

  “Little Bobby! He’s not little any more. He’s almost as tall as you. You know, the adolescent growth spurt? What you heard just now was his deeper voice, not his squeaky one.”

  “Diana, is it too late to come over? There’s a lot that’s happened since we last saw each other in Chicago.”

  She laughed at that. “Wait until I tell you our story. ‘A lot’ falls rather far short of being descriptive of what we experienced en route here.”

  “In that case, I’m coming over immediately! A long story might take all night.”

  That led Diana to consider the possibility of Dan spending the night, but not merely to hear her story. The boy answered the bell, opening the door with a welcoming smile.

  Dan, greeting him, exclaimed, “My gosh, how you’ve grown!”

  Bobby snickered good-naturedly at that. “You said that the time you first laid eyes me. Was it in comparison to that old photograph in the library? When will you come up with something new, Uncle Dan?”

  “What else can anyone say? This time you’ve broken all records, and with your voice changing, you’re due for a new greeting. How about...”

  “Danny!” Diana cut in, giving him an affectionate hug, “Just what did you have in mind, coming over here tonight? To be one of the boys, or to renew acquaintance with an old flame?”

  “My God, woman, what do you think?” Taking her into his arms in a tender embrace, he lingered as he kissed her upturned lips.

  Looking on in interest, Bobby, asked, “Does this mean I can’t call you Uncle Dan any more?”

  Dan reached out his arm to include Bobby in a three-way hug, saying, “That’s the question of the century, lad. Only your mother has the answer.”

  Her face flushing slightly, she smiled up at Dan. Then she said to Bobby, “Weren’t you planning to spend the night with your new friend Freddy next door, young man? We shall discuss Danny’s status another time. Now off you go, and mind your manners there!”

  When her son had gone, Diana put an L.P., a long-play platter, on the record player and turned the lights down. Sitting on the sofa next to Dan, she became almost lost in the music, mostly swing from the Forties. What memories they brought back! And with those memories, she began to feel an erotic stirring. At that moment, Dan put his arm around her, which aroused her further, bringing her out of her reverie.

  “Danny, how about something to drink, while we talk? I’ve some wonderful old port, which I believe you’ll savor.”

  As she stood on tiptoe, reac
hing for the bottle high on the kitchen shelf, having followed her, he put his arms around her waist from behind, kissing her ear. Feeling the thrill of his embrace and his kiss, for a moment she remained passive, immensely enjoying the experience. Then, nimbly turning in his arms and facing him, still on her toes, she kissed him passionately on the mouth. The ardor of her response took him aback temporarily. Taking the bottle from the counter, he read the label. “Oh, it’s a Taylor! Could the reason for your affection be the music bringing back your lost bombardier? But whatever the reason, I’ll take whatever you give me.”

  “Dear, sweet Danny,” she murmured in a husky voice, “don’t you know that you’re the one now?”

  Pouring a glass of the twenty-year-old tawny for each of them, she took his hand and led him back into the living room to the sofa. With her lovely green eyes gazing warmly into his, she raised her glass, toasting, “To us!” Adding, after an appreciative sip, “Now for our nice long talk.”

  For almost an hour, she recounted the harrowing events of the chase since they had parted that day at the airport in Chicago. After listening with amazement, he related his good luck in being reassigned to the case in time to arrest the two GRU agents who had followed them on the train. Sipping her wine, she realized that was the reason for the absence of any further Soviet interference after their departure from that little town in Colorado. “Danny, darling, I think, in fact, you may have saved our lives.”

  “I’ve doubly lucked out, then. I’ve always loved you, Di, from the first moment we met on that dig in Spain. There hasn’t been any woman for me since your spell had its way.”

  “Oh, Danny, don’t you think I knew how you felt? But I just wasn’t ready for a new love at the time. Then the Martian thing became an obsession of mine, during that year when we went through so much together in Tanganyika. Now, almost everything Martian is as remote as when we were in Spain. Since most of that has been taken away, I’ve begun to see past it all. Now, while I won your heart at first sight, your magic over me, in the long run has been just as powerful.”