Tomorrow’s Heritage

by Juanita Coulson

  Dian gathered the towel around herself. She was no prude, but she wasn’t yet exactly on family-circle terms with Pat and obviously was taking this situation carefully.

  Pat dropped his head back, shutting his eyes and basking in the hot Sun for a long minute. Then he took a deep breath, pulled himself up, and walked toward the cabana. “Want to try it again? Best two fails out of three?”

  Todd grimaced. “I just got back from three weeks in orbit. I don’t feel much like playing pushover for you.”

  Pat spread his arms wide, his shirt snapping in the sea breeze. His expression was taunting. “Come on. I’ll take it easy on you.”

  This time Todd gave no warning. He charged head down, carrying them both down the beach. It was almost a genuine test of strength for a bit. They wrestled halfheartedly, neither one landing any real blows. The sand was too hot for such roughhousing. By mutual consent, still grappling and straining for breath, they staggered toward the canopy and collapsed. Dian regarded them scornfully. She reminded Todd of a sleek brown cat contemplating a pair of rowdy puppies. The bodyguards merely looked bored.

  Pat started laughing, holding his belly, lying full length on the mattress. Then he shook off the mood and stood up, kicking out of his sandals and peeling off his shirt. He threw several mock punches at Todd’s biceps, dancing like a fighter in training. “Reef and back. I’ll give you a head start, you poor weakling. Three seconds?”

  “If Dian plays ref.”

  “For what?” Dian asked innocently. Then she called, “Go!”

  Todd’s sandals flew off as he ran. He hoped the med grays would compensate for this energy expenditure. It was much too soon after leaving orbit to be trying such nonsense.

  He was counting, hearing Dian say, “Go!” once more. The sand’s heat made him run at top speed. The water looked cool and inviting. He could hear Pat close behind him, panting, trying to catch up. They splashed out into the waves and dived into the deeper water.

  Todd reached out in long, steady strokes. Here he had an advantage. The water buoyed him, imitating free fall. He sliced through the slow current and swam strongly for the turnpoint they had used as kids, an area of reef topped by a gnarly rock. Smoothly, Todd ducked, somersaulting, feet braced against the surface, shoving himself hard along the return track.

  Plasticrete under his toes, not coral. He remembered why the artificial liner had been put there. Mari was the fastest swimmer of the three of them, and she had overdone it once. Pat had tried desperately to overtake her and had skinned himself thoroughly. Ward had dreamed up the plasticrete sponging to prevent future bloody accidents.

  “. . . you’re mortal, you know. Just because you kids are Saunders, don’t think you can’t be hurt . . .”

  Reaching, the water curling past his arms, body, and legs. Everything in tune. Legs scissoring, cupped hands moving the water, forcing it back. Action, reaction, the first law of getting where he wanted to in space.

  I was learning the trick then. So was Mari. You’re the only one who never made further use of it, Pat . . . How much you’re missing, big brother! There’s absolutely nothing like it on Earth.

  The beach, and Dian, were ahead. The finish line. Todd touched bottom and slogged on his hands and knees, coming erect, climbing out of the water. Noisy splashing and panting at his side. Pat, trying to win. Todd’s heart was thundering, but he extended his stride, overcoming the wrench of gravity and the sudden weight in his limbs. Running across the hot beach, falling into the shade, touching Dian’s outstretched hand, attaining the goal. Beside him, simultaneously, Pat touched her other hand.

  The two of them lay there wheezing and coughing. Dian had slipped into her suit while they had been racing. She looked down at them, still smiling scornfully. Pat finally recovered enough breath to say, “Well?”

  “It was a tie.”

  “What?” Rebellion flared in Pat’s sharp face. There were far darker shadows on his emotions than those cast by the canopy. The potential fury chained up inside him was awesome.

  Todd looked over at him, glad he had won the little Contest, yet knowing Pat’s anger in defeat. It was a defeat. Pat’s standards for himself were higher than anyone else could ever set for him. He had never been satisfied. No praise had ever quite fulfilled him and that demon in his being.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, under control now, sounding rueful.

  “I’m sure. It was a dead heat,” Dian stated.

  “Appropriate phrase for today.” Pat shrugged as if the outcome hadn’t mattered. It shouldn’t have. But it did.

  Todd knew acceptance wouldn’t go down easy. He slapped Pat’s gut playfully. “You’re out of shape. Next time, you’d better not give me as big a handicap. Too much wining and dining on the political trail. Tell you what. Give us both a few days to tune up, and I’ll give you a rematch. Bargain?”

  Self-consciously, Pat sucked in his stomach, even though there was no visible fat there. He smiled. Not his political smile, intended to mesmerize voters. This smile was open, nothing hidden. His family grin, Todd called it. It was Pat at his best, and that was pretty damned good.

  “Bargain! Next time I’ll leave you out there like a beached dolphin.”

  “Not a chance.”

  They flung arms around each other’s shoulders, laughing. Dian’s tiny nose wrinkled with distaste. “I don’t know about beached dolphins, but the two of you sure smell like beached fish.”

  They took the hint, wiping off the grit and sea smells with towels. Pat talked as he cleaned up. “Saw your plane at the hangar. The room monitor said you weren’t in, so I figured you were probably down here. Hope you don’t mind my dropping by to give you a hearty hello.” Dropping by, with bodyguards in tow?

  “Mind? Of course not. Though it might have been a trifle too cozy if you’d come by a half hour ago,” Todd added.

  Dian kicked his ankle, and he pretended agony.

  Pat seemed unabashed. “Three make a very exciting party. But that never was your speed, kid. Guess I timed this right. I had to check in with ‘Rissa first, anyway. Haven’t seen Mari yet. Jael indicated she was kind of edgy.” His face tightened again, but the cause of his anger was a long way off. “I hear you almost got it in a riot at Orleans. That’s exactly the sort of irresponsible sub-national leadership we need to eliminate. LeBras never could keep order in his district. But when it threatens our family . . .”

  “That’s not what’s bugging Mari,” Todd said.

  Careful. Don’t attract the sharks until you know you can fight them off.

  “It’s . . . it’s a lot of things. Just take it slow with her, give her time to adjust. She’s out of touch with the way things are planetside. Please? “You know how she is.”

  Pat listened intently. “I know that guy she’s living with ought to belt her a good one now and then.” Pat’s mocking tone only partially relieved the tension caused by that suggestion. Then he brightened. “I like that big fanatic. Met him at a P.O.E. funding session a couple of years ago when he was on leave. He’s a hardheaded son of a bitch, just as bad as Mari. But there’s no malice in him.”

  “There’s none in Mari, either.” Pat eyed his brother, on guard, expecting a lecture. Instead Todd said, “McKelvey couldn’t make it.”

  “Hmm. Busy being governor now, eh? Little military coup in the making up there? Well, maybe . . . hell, I don’t know. The one thing I don’t want to do this trip is talk politics. If I start, slug me. I sympathize with McKelvey’s problems; I barely managed to get away to Saunderhome myself this week.”

  “Couldn’t miss the anniversary . . .”

  “Nope! And this year we’re all together again. This is going to be the turnaround for us, kid. I just know it.” Pat said, working up his enthusiasm. “We’ve moved apart.”

  “Remember, take it slow with Mari.”

  “I will!” Pat picked up his shirt and started toward the elevator to the house. “I’ll see you kids later. Stay cool. And next time, Todd, I�
��ll beat you!” Silently, the body. guards followed him, shadow people.

  “Do you guys do that sort of thing often?” Dian asked wryly, after he had gone.

  “You mean the roughhousing? We used to—a lot. He got a little carried away there for a bit,” Todd said, frowning.

  “I noticed. I thought I was going to have to yell for help to pull you apart. I’m used to that sort of thing ending up with one guy at the medics’, or dead.”

  Todd winced at the grim reference. “Just horseplay. Pat’s one of those poor inhibited types. Can’t shuck it off with his aides and party workers. He needs a chance to blow off some of the tension. I happened to be handy. Better me than a stranger.”

  Dian stopped his explanations. “Hey, it was sort of crazy to watch. Very exotic. Sibling rivalry and all. Being an only, it all seems unreal.”

  “You and a lot of the world. Three kids? In a time period when onlies were the rule? We took a megaton of flak about overconsuming and wasting resources and how our parents could have done something so obscene as to have three of us. I guess that made us clannish.”

  Dian pulled him down beside her, kissing him. “Don’t apologize. I like the results.” They traded volumes of understanding with their eyes. “Besides, it’s good practice for me, learning to cope with your planetside exotic types—gets me in training for real aliens.” He silenced her with another kiss.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ooooooooo

  Ritual

  THEY remained on the beach till sundown, loath to leave the serenity it offered. The red fire spread across the sky, darkness coming with it, closing in rapidly. It took them half an hour to dispose of their soggy swimsuits and shower. By the time they had dressed, Maniette was waiting for them in the foyer outside the suite. She didn’t forbear to make another crack about the mysterious case Todd was toting.

  “You don’t need to smuggle in a spare supply of gold, sweetie,” Mari said. “You are at home. They’re not going to make us swim back to the mainland—I don’t think. We may starve waiting on the elevator, however. Where is that thing . . .?”

  When it arrived, they rode to Saunderhome’s topmost level, an immense bubble-domed room. Hesitating on the threshold, Dian took in the oval-shaped expanse beyond the elevator doors. Then she saw Jael watching the three of them from across the room. Dian took Todd’s arm firmly.

  Mari led the way, descending the thickly carpeted steps to the sunken activity area. The large dining table was set for six. Saunderhome staffers stood on the sidelines near the service access, a modern electronic version of a dumbwaiter. They hadn’t started relaying orders to the lower kitchens yet. Gold settings and expensive china and linens adorned the mahogany table.

  “More posh,” Dian whispered. Most onlookers might have taken her wide-eyed stare for admiring awe. Todd didn’t.

  “Put that on hold, will you?” he begged. A servant approached and offered to take the case off his hands. Hastily, Todd transferred it to a tighter grip on the other side. “Thanks, no. It’s something I need for later on.”

  “Very well, sir . . .”

  Two butlers tended bar at either end of a broad circle of chairs and couches. Roy Paige was chatting with Jael. He glanced at Todd, Dian, and Mari, then snapped his fingers to keep the servants on their toes. One asked for drink orders and hurried off to fill them. Jael was sitting in her favorite high-backed overstuffed chair. Todd had never been sure how she had managed to drag that thing with them wherever they had gone, repairing it, recovering it, always carting it on to the next in a long line of Saunder havens. It finally found a permanent home here on the island and hadn’t needed reupholstering for some years now. Carissa was seated next to her in a less throne-like sofa chair. Both were intent on Pat and Mari, who met directly in front of them.

  For a fraction of a second, Todd feared another war was going to break out. Pat was standing stiffly. Mari’s hand was out but held in a fist, not an open-fingered greeting. They sparred silently. Then Pat’s politician’s mask dropped away, replaced by tenderness.

  Mari responded instantly, hugging Pat. She laid her head on his shoulder and looked at Todd, her eyes moist. “You knew I couldn’t resist, didn’t you?” She and Pat were both laughing softly.

  “You were right, Jael,” Carissa said. Jael was very smug. A butler brought them a tray, and Carissa picked up a glass goblet. She turned the drink in her pale hands, sipping delicately through a straw. Her green eyes were narrowed. If she had been a cat, she would have purred.

  “Sit over here with us, Dian,” Jael invited, patted the chair opposite Carissa. Dian exchanged a look with Todd which told him she wasn’t delighted with the arrangement. But she complied.

  Pat and Mari had finally moved a little apart. Pat pulled Todd into their space, gripping his forearm. He hadn’t done that in years. They locked hands, aping a fashion they had seen in a book about ancient Rome when they were kids. Pat released Todd’s hand and faked a hammerlock, then let go, an arm dangling heavily over Todd’s shoulder. He drew Mari into the crook o his other arm. Roy Paige began clicking off holo-mode memories of the occasion, asking them to smile for the lenses.

  The mood in the room was wonderful. Todd didn’t even resent being called “kid,” didn’t mind any of the old jokes and teasing epithets. They slipped into reminiscences about a wild party they had thrown in their teens, when they had all ended up swimming fully clothed. Mari claimed to be outraged and argued with their description of her behavior that moonlit night. Then she and Todd ganged up on Pat briefly. They switched sides again and again—none of it serious, all of it making them laugh. No prickly edges at all.

  Behind them, Todd heard Jael, Dian, and Carissa talking.

  “. . . he looks a little sunburned, Dian . . .”

  “Well, you said he looked pale. A little soothe-cream will cure that peeling nose. Besides, I think it’s kind of cute . . .”

  “It’s so nice, Jael—all of us together like this. It’s been simply ages, ages.” Carissa. That husky, tremulous voice was unmistakable. Even when she broke into other people’s conversations, her voice had a whispery vocal fragrance.

  In contrast, Jael’s velvet, low soprano tone never lost its undernote of steely strength. From the corner of his eye, Todd saw Jael gazing at Carissa. There it was again, that peculiar possessive stare he had noticed while Pat was making the truce announcement.

  “Are you sure you should be drinking that, Carissa?” the older woman asked.

  “It’s only milk punch.”

  The photo session and joyous mugging and reminiscing finally tapered off. Pat walked over to Carissa and caught her hands, lifting her effortlessly out of her chair. Her face was pink and pale like a tropical flower. Pat slipped her arm through his and started toward the dining area as Carissa said in a little-girl manner, “I am hungry. How did you know?”

  “Know your every wish is my command, ‘Rissa,” Pat replied gallantly.

  Roy and Todd acted as escorts for the other women. On the surface, Jael was enjoying herself, watching her successful eldest offspring leading his pretty lady to the table. But there was something else in her face. Fear. What was Jael afraid of? Todd couldn’t imagine anything that had been said or done that would cause such an emotion—certainly nothing regarding Pat and Carissa. Puzzled, he let Roy Paige escort Jael to the table and led Mari and Dian himself, teasing about having two women to the other men’s one apiece.

  The truce continued to hold through dinner. Jael had arranged the seating so that Pat and Mari were side by side, tempting fate. But nothing bad came of it. Jael sat next to Mari, opposite Carissa. Todd and Dian were seated together at the other side of the long table. Dian whispered to Todd, wondering why Paige wasn’t joining them. The black man busied himself with numerous projects and supervisory positions running Saunderhome. By his own choice, he was part of the gathering, but wouldn’t spare the time to eat with them. Dian seemed somewhat mollified by the explanation. Every time Roy returned
from some unexplained errand, though, she watched him curiously, apparently identifying with him to some degree.

  Pat and Mari stuck to safe topics, working at it. Occasionally Jael would put in a comment. As often as not, Carissa would add a few timid words. Dian and Todd joined in when it seemed apt. As the meal wore on, Todd became conscious of a pattern, one which confused him. He hadn’t noticed it until now. Had it been there all this year? Or was Mari the catalyst bringing it out? Whatever the cause, there were subtle differences in the dinner-table chitchat.

  “Of course, it’s not like it was when we were building Saunderhome. We couldn’t run away completely from the wars and plagues. They had those in the Caribbean, too. I suppose you can never really escape your problems no matter how far you run. You’ll have to deal with them eventually,” Jael was saying.

  Bad reminder. Todd hoped it wasn’t a prelude to trouble. Things had gone so well through the krill cocktail, the soup and salad and beef entree. They ought to be wallowing in the luxuries and the good feelings. So few people could afford to eat such expensive food, and so few could brag of having an intact family circle.

  Almost intact.

  Mari, in Jael’s view, had run away to Goddard Colony. Carissa tried to cover up the challenge, cooing over a syrup-drenched fruit dish. “These must have been picked today, they’re so fresh!”

  “They probably were, love,” Pat agreed. To Todd’s relief, his brother took up the ball and ran with it, wiping out Jael’s ill-advised jab. “Picked at the peak. Mari, remember how we used to slip the lock on the garden house and sneak in and gobble all the goodies the day before the staff was supposed to harvest them?” Mariette giggled, and Pat wagged a finger at Todd. “It was your fault. You’re the one who deciphered Dad’s lock patent. You said it was a beep tone harmonic, or something. You little genius! Except that Dad knew damned quick it couldn’t be anyone but you who did it. That pointed right back at us, and we all got grounded for a month.”