by Ahern, Jerry
“Hewas always on the edge, I suppose,” Paul Rubenstein went on. “He looked beneath the surface, and he saw things most people would have refused to see, that some people even refused to see after the war had come.
“Itwas a much larger world then, more people, or course, so many nations most people-myself included-couldn’t have told you how many, and everything was ordered and neat on the surface and boiling away beneath the surface. People chose never to look below the surface.”
“Istill do not-“
PaulRubenstein shrugged his shoulders. “We were so concerned with getting to work on time, with taxes - remember I mentioned the concept?”
“Yes.”
“Work,taxes, who said what to whom, trying to make a buck-make money. Anyway, all the little things that had nothing at all to do with really living, took up so much time there was no time for living. The more you value life, the more you try to preserve it. People were too busy to know what life was, many of them, maybe most of them, and so the thought of preserving it, if it ever entered their heads at all, was something to be shunted off to the police or the military or to anybody else but themselves.
Thecity I lived in was called New York,” Paul related, realizing he was deviating from answering the boy’s question, but doing it anyway. “In New York, there were more people than there are on the
entireearth today. And people would put bars up, like a prison-a place for confining airninals-might have, just to keep people from breaking into their homes and businesses and hurting them. And people wouldn’t go to Central Park, not at night, because there were gangs that would attack people for no reason at all, except to steal from them, or maybe just to get some pleasure out of hurting them. And if somebody tried to safeguard his own life or the life of a loved one with a weapon of any kind, he was violating the law usually.
“Lifewas upside down, with foreign dictators stealing from their countries and torturing and killing their own people, the cost of everything-the number of dollars needed-going up and up and some people working harder and harder just to stay even, while other people refused to work ami expected the government to pay for their food and everyihing else, and raised their children to be the same way.
Therewere people who hated other people because of the color of their skin, or the way they worshipped God or because they didn’t believe in God or because they did. Women might do the same work as men, but often rimes they were paid less. The world was a lot less concerned about right and wrong than about profit and loss. There were even people who laughed at the concept of personal honor, of honesty.
“Butthe majority-of the people, like people everywhere, were basically good, but basically uninvolved, too busy living what passed for life, to realize life was passing them by and that even what passed for life, might slip through their fingers.”
Ttsounds hke hell.”
Itwasn’t. But men like Doctor John Rourke were few and far between, and didn’t come along every day. And, when they did, people were too busy to listen, let alone do something.
Thecoming of the War was easy,” Paul Rubenstein concluded.
TheRussians must have been terrible people.”
“No.The Russians were just people, not terrible or otherwise. The problem wasn’t a problem between freedom and totalitarianism, good and evil, anything that simplistic. The problem was that people were too busy to care, or too beaten down to do anything, if they did care. The world was slipping away and we were all too busy to notice.”
Theyreached the end of the path.
Whatfive centuries ago would have been a city block away, lay the small house he and Annie occupied. There were still only two of them. Annie’s menstrual cycle had just begun. But some day they would have a baby, both of them fertile, just not lucky yet. “I have to leave you here, Stig. Try that book I suggested from Mid-Wake I suggested. There are some copies at the library. If the library is out, call me and make arrangements to borrow mine. The author, as I told you, who survived the War, was an American submarine commander. He was closer to the situation than good historical scholarship allows, but the account is the best youll find.”
“Thankyou, Sir. Very much, Sir.” And young Stig offered his hand.
PaulRubenstein took it, then turned off the path and along the row of small private houses, toward his. As he halved the distance, he saw Annie emerge onto the porch. She raised her right arm and waved at him. Paul waved back, quickening his step.
Shewas beautiful, as always, like a pretty gift wrapped in lace and ribbons, always his.
Thetrappings of life, as he’d suggested to young Stig, were tempting.
Ashe walked, Paul Rubenstein thought of his wife’s father, John Rourke.
If/when-washope embodied in a word?-John awakened in some future time, his friend would be totally alone in a world that was totally changed.
PaulRubenstein stopped at the base of the porch steps, looking up at Annie in her ankle length floral print dress and white pinafore-style apron. She looked as delicate as a flower, more beautiful than any flower could have been.
Sheloved the everyday things of life, this house, the prospect of a child, the classes she taught, the classes he taught, the normalcy of waiting for him on the front porch every night while dinner cooked on the kitchen stove and the hot bread or a cake or a pie that was in die oven.
Hefelt his waistline. He kept fit, and the ‘good life’ wasn’t showing on him, or at least not yet. “I was flunking about your Dad,” Paul said to her. “I was thinking about him, too, today.” “I was wondering if maybe we should, uhh-maybe-“
Sheopened her arms and he walked up the steps, stopping a few treads below her, folding her into his arms, leaning his head against her breast, smelling the perfume of her, her woman smell, the sensual odors of what she had been cooking, just holding her and feeling her warmth through her clothes against his hands, against his face.
“Doyou want me to say it, Paul?”
Hedidn’t move his head, just hugged her. “Reading me?”
“Ididn’t mean to. honest.”
Helaughed, held her more tightly. “Well, to my unasked question, then?”
“He’dbe so alone, especially if Mom-“
PauiRubenstein nodded, touched his lips to her hand as her fingers caressed his cheek.
Heloved the normalcy, too; but, perhaps, there really was fate, or destiny, and theirs was so inextricably tied to John Rourke’s, that the bonds could not be broken if they tried.
Three
Thespring would be very short, of course, because the summer was very short and the autumn was even shorter.
Butthewinter endured, witrunthelastfewdaysonly, itseemedrelin-quishing its grip in Gaul, surrounding Strasbourg; the days a Litde warmer, green sprouting where the snow was melting.
Buthere, in the distance, it was always winter because the icesheet, the glacier, had not retreated more than an inch or so each summer for more than three centuries according to the records.
LydveldidIsland was not called the “land of ice” without reason.
“Holdmy hand.”
MichaelRourke turned in the pilot’s seat and looked at Natalia. He needed only one hand for the controls of the J7-V at the moment and Natalia, a better pilot than he was, knew that. He took her hand in his. “Relax. There’s nothing to worry about. Weren’t they happy for us?”
“Yes,“Natalia murmured, nodding her head. “When you told them, though, I think I was more frightened than Tve ever been in my life.”
“Why?“The ocean slipped away beneath them, the rocky beach and icefield beyond replacing it. The German base outside Hekla would not be coming up on his headsup display for another two minutes, at their present airspeed.
“Russiansare very strange people, Michael. We feel guilty for everything. Thafs why there was always so much alcoholism in the Soviet Union, I think. Depression.”
“Hmm”he nodded, reLinqwshing her hand for an instant to manually check his landing gear controls
. He retook her hand. “I guess Fm a Lttfle uptight, too. When I was a kid, I watched you in your chamber, always beautiful, never stirring. Despite the feet my childhood wasn’t quite normal, youll have to admit, I still remembered the stories Mom or Dad would read to me when I was litde. I couldn’t look at you with
fM&rrik^d Sleeping Beauty Butyou hadn’t eaten something that poisoned you and as much as I would have loved to awaken you with a kiss like in the story, I knew-I thought I knew-that somehow Dad had a wife waiting for me when I grew up enough.”
Helet go ofher hand, the headsup showing the outer boundary beacon for the base. He started running a pre-landing computer check. “1 figured,” he went on, “that Dad had it all figured out wrong, though. Just picture yourself as a guy in his teens” he told her.
“Icant* Natalia laughed.
Hesqueezed her hand for an instant. “No, I mean, well, there’s this imaging goddess waiting for you to grow up and be old enough to-well, old enough. And you know thaf s what your Dad had planned all along, but you figure stll never happen. So, I told myself it wouldn’t.”
“KJohn-youf&rher-if-“
MichaelRourke looked at Natalia Tiemerovna. He nodded, saying, 1 hope to God I would have, and you would have.” He picked up the microphone-he hated headsets-and started to call the German-base …
Thektchen table was typical Annie, Michael Rourke thought.
Littlesah and pepper shakers, pretty cloth napkins that matched the table doth, fresh flowers not just in a vase but arranged with obvious care.
Paulbrought mm a drink and sat down opposite him. To-whatever,* Paul suggested.
“Goodtoast,* Michael nodded, clinking glasses, then sipping at his wine.
Michaelseyes drifted toward the opposite end of the long, narrow kitchen, where Natalia helped Annie. Annie was in a long dress and an apron, looking like a nineteenth century doll-he’d seen them in books - and Natalia looking considerably less formal and slightly perplexed.
“Youtook good for yourself, Michael. Natalia does, too. You seem to agree with each other.”
MichaelRourke looked at his brother-in-law and friend. “I could say the same for you guys. Annie looks happier than Tve ever seen her.”
“Istill cant figure out what she sees in me,” Paul grinned, taking another sip of bis wine. “She even cooks Kosher better than my mother
did,God love her. I’m not implying the opposite, biit you dontknk tike
you’restarving.” “Hell eat anything!” Natalia called out, laughing. This woman does not he,” Michael said equally loudly. Paul laughed.
“Seriously,she’s aterrificcook. I asked her once, youknow, to make something Russian. She said she never learned how to cook Russian food.”
“WhenI was on that job with-with Vladmir,” Natalia said, looking towardthem, the oven door half open. “Where we had to pretend to be Americans? I needed to know how to cook, so the KGB sent me to a cooking school. All they taught was American and Continental cuisine, so I never learned how to cook like a Russian.”
“Ihad an aunt who was Russian,” Paul said, laughing. Trust me, if she was any indicator of Russian cooking-“
“No,“Natalia responded, her potholdered hands clasped to a pie. “Russian cooking can be wonderful. I just never learned it.”
Michaellit his rare cigarette, almost hating to do so because the kitchen smells were so good. He looked at the lighter in his hand, then set it down on the table and pushed it toward Paul.
Paulpicked up the battered Zippo and turned it over in his hand. ” ‘J.T. R.’-wow.” He put the lighter down.
Tellhim, Paul,” Annie called over her shoulder.
Michaellooked at Paul. Tell me what?”
Paul’seyebrows shrugged. “I figured to talk about it later; may as well talk aboutit now. Annieandlhave been giving this alot of thought. Uhh, careful consideration. We, uhh-“
“You’regoing to join them,” Michael said.
Paullooked at Annie, then back at Michael. “Yeah. I checked it all out. Yeah. We decided. Him, anyway. Someday, hell come out of the coma he’s in. Sarah, they still say, weLl, they still say ifll take a medical breakthrough-they can’t even foresee to give her even a chance. But, someday, hell come out of it. The monitoring system shows that with his brain wave patterns. I was talking to Doctor Munchen. They’ve done some experiments and they’re certain. There shouldn’t be any trouble telling when his alpha rhythms get into the normal range. Your Dad’dbe,uhh-“
“Alone,“Michael supplied.
“Yeah,“Paul nodded. “So, well, you and Natalia have each other
now. He wouMhave wanted that. We cantell him all about you guys and everything.”
“WhenI radioed, I saki we had something ^
Teah,I, uhh -1 figured maybe you guys were preg - Getting married, maybe, or-“
Michadinhaledonhis cigarette, justlookingathisfriend. “We were going to teQ you the same thing, Paul. Natalia and I talked about it a lot. And we cameup with a lot of reasons. I don’t know how good any of them are, bulk’ssomething we want to do. I haven’t checked with Doctor Munchen or arrything, buthe wasnextonmy list. We figured-Natalia and I - we figuredthat we wantedto tell Dad ourselves, be there when he wakesup. maybe find a way that doesn’t exist yet to help Mom.”
Aglass broke, but Michaeldidn’t look.
Hewatched his friend’s face, instead.
Then Pad extended hishand, saying, The Family.”
Michael Rourke nodded,saying nothing, but taking Paul’s hand.
And Annie andNatalia, as if they had rehearsed it (and with women Michael Rourke realizeda man could never be quite sure) called out, The Family r
Four
Hismother-only her left temple was bandaged-looked beautiful, at peace and timeless forever.
MichaelRourke looked at Paul, then at Annie, his sister.
Theywere already asleep, the blue-white gas suffused totally throughout their chambers.
Consciousnessof bis nakedness only a fleeting thought, he walked toward where Natalia sat, naked as well, but covered from her breasts downward with a sheet. She smiled, saying to him, “When you went into The Sleep, I gave you and Annie the injections. How things have changedbutrernainedthe same. You were the most beautiful little boy, and now-“
MichaelRourke leaned close to her, touching his lips to her mouth. “Lovers. When we awaken, Til love you then as I love you now.”
AndNatalia put her head against his chest, her hps torching at his flesh, her arms clutched around him.
Shetrembled slightiy.
Aftera moment that was not long enough, he helped her into her chamber, helping her with the light sheet which would cover her.
DoctorMunchen approached.
“Areyou ready, Natalia?”
Shelooked at Michael.
MichaelRourke said, “She’s ready.”
Nataliasmiled, then closed her eyes.
DoctorMunchen sprayed her arm with the antiseptic, then touched the needle to her skin.
MichaelRourke held her hand for a while longer, then looked at Munchen. Michael nodded.
Thecryogenic chamber closed and Michael stepped away, going to his own.
Hesat on the edge.
Whenhelooked to his right, above hisown chamber, he could see his father, when the gas swirled for an instant quite clearly.
“So,Michael. I will never see you again. But, do a loudness for me?”
MichaelRourke looked at Munchen’s eyes. “Of course.”
“Good”Munchen nodded Tell someone about me, that is all. That way, long after I am dead, I will know that I am remembered.”
““Yes* Michael extended his hand to Munchen.
Munchensmikd. took his hand. “So, shall we?”
MichaelRourke turned around, bringing up his legs, then stretching out in the chamber.
TheGerman models were more spacious, better designed to guard against blood ctotting, suspending the sleeper. After a few seconds, Michae
l felt comfortable enough.
Thespray was cool against his arm.
Helooked a Munchen, then at Natalia, the gas already all but obscuring her.
Then.Mkhael Rourke closed his eyes. Til remember you as a friend,” he said.
Kurinamiwas in power in Eden, Dodd and Zimmer were dead. The new work! was a place of promise, the future bright.
Theneedle touched his skin, pricked his flesh.
MkhaelRourke remembered that one dreamed in The Sleep, dreamed endtessh. So be focused his mind on Natalia and the love they shared, in the hope mat his dreams would be good ones.
Part Five
The Legend
One
The hem of the pretty girl’s sleeveless white mini-dress stopped well above the midpoint between hipand thigh. She wore a soft white cap with a bill on it over her past shoulder length straight blonde hair and, over textured white stockings, knee-high white plastic boots with large; industrial-sized zippers, like the one at the front of her dress, running up the sides. “Now, everyone aboard the bus, please! And rnind your step!” And she looked over the rims of her big round sunglasses and smiled as she added, “Remember, Citizens of Eden and any foreign visitors, Retreat Tours, its employees and subsidiaries, cannot be responsible for any lost articles. So, keep your belongings with you in hand at all times!”
He had no possessions in hand, stepped aside to allow a woman with a small child in tow to board ahead of him, then climbed aboard himself.
The bus was jointed at the center and, after a hurried guesstimate, he judged it would carry one hundred people.
He took a seat near the center exit door and beside a window on the driver’s side. The center rows were filling up fast, and most of the window seats were taken.
A girl, dressed and coiffed similarly to the tour guide, but with a different color scheme-brown hair and a blue dress and blue boots-sat down beside him. She wore round-framed glasses, too, but not for sua, and had pretty green eyes behind them. “You can have the window seat if you like,” he offered.
No, I like to be able to move around. But, thanks, anyway. Taken the tour to Rourke’s Retreat before?”
