We taxied out of the hanger and up onto the desert floor. It was blinding bright and brutally hot. The hard sun burned through the front clearplex, making it warm even in the conditioned air of the hov. Susie set the hov to head deeper into the desert. Off in the distance, I could make out the hazy dunes that marked the beginning of the eternal Sahara. Susie made a final course adjustment and locked on the compilot. She turned the chair toward me.
“It'll be twenty minutes before we phase. So, tell me, what was it like?"
“SUSIE!"
“Oh, don't give me that ‘Susie!', Abigail. We're the only ones here.” She waved at the cramped interior of our small hov, then at the vast expanse of the empty desert. “If this is your first crush, or love or whatever, I want to know all about it. Besides, you'll need a confidant to have any hope of surviving. So let's have it. How was it?"
I smiled. “It was wonderful! I couldn't believe I had the nerve to actually kiss him! I'm still not sure I should have.” She laughed.
“If you had seen him after you ran into the hov you wouldn't have any doubts. He walked into the side of the grav skirt, then wandered off toward his quarters. He must have changed direction three times, he was in such a daze."
I looked at my hands, still trembling. It seemed to infect the rest of me, for I started shaking. Tears welled up, and I felt a heavy lump in my stomach. Why? I was feeling so miserably happy. Why couldn't it be simple for once? I looked out into the desert, but found no answers out there.
“Abby?"
I buried my face into my hands and started crying. The morning was suddenly too much, and it overwhelmed me. I leaned over farther, my stomach hurting.
Susie unbuckled and knelt at my side in the narrow space between our seats. She didn't say anything, but put her arm around me, pulling me to her. I had been in her arms like this countless times in the past two years, and probably would be in them countless times in the coming years. And every time was a moment I could step outside my problems and just accept the comfort I required. Floating across the desert, my first love waiting for me back there at my home, I needed her comfort again. And she was, as always, there for me.
I calmed down eventually, though I still felt confused and sick and happy and half a dozen other things. I wiped my tears as Susie returned to her seat.
“Was it like this for you, Susie? You know, the first time you ... you..."
“Kissed a guy? Yes, I'd say so. I was a wreck for about a week. A happy wreck, though."
“But I feel so different! Part of me thinks it's not right, but the other part of me enjoyed it so much!"
“Really? Which parts are those, Abby? Don't say ‘this part’ felt this, ‘that part’ felt that. Learn to listen to yourself. Come now. Close your eyes."
“Huh?"
“Do it. Close your eyes.” I sat back and closed my eyes. “Good. Now picture the moment again. Remember it as intensely as you can."
I thought through the whole thing. Talking to Aaron, not knowing what to say, but hoping I could say something. Then the moment when we finally seemed to be getting the knack, only to arrive at the awkward good-bye. Then that push by Susie and I was suddenly in his arms. They were so wonderful! His scent, his warmth. I tingled all over at the thought. Then his soft, deep voice as he whispered how he would think about me. I was so caught up in him, I just had to kiss him, even though it was only the slightest of kisses, more imagined than felt. I sighed.
“There. Now tell me what part of you didn't revel in."
“You're right,” I said sheepishly. “I loved it. But isn't it wrong? I mean..."
“All right, all right! You were a man once. We've been over this a hundred times, Abigail! But that was six centuries and who knows how many personas ago.” She should have sounded exasperated, but Susie could have an incredible amount of patience where it was warranted. I knew everything she was going to say, and she knew I did. But we both also knew I wanted to hear it again. I started my refrain.
“'But it only seems like two years for me,'” she said, cutting me off by imitating my voice.
“Hey! I don't whine like that!” I protested.
“Yes, you do. When it comes to playing ‘I'm a man in a girl's body', you can be a real whiner, Abigail.” I shot her a dirty look. “Okay, now pipe down.
“Those two years have been about as full as they could be. You've grown into a lovely young woman. Your personality has continued being transformed by the realities of your mind and body. And for much the better, I might add."
“What do you mean?"
“Just look at yourself. I've never seen such a happy, exciting young lady, so completely content with herself, as I've seen in you. Except when you go on these ‘who am I really?’ binges, you really seem to know who you are."
“But Aaron knows who I am, too."
“What? That you were male? Sure, he knows that. But to him that's like knowing the Battle of Hastings was in 1166."
“1066,” I corrected.
“Sorry, 1066. But that's the point. Both are ancient history, and have no emotional impact on the present. His brain has logged it as a dry, dusty, worthless fact. What he sees, lives with, talks to, and is falling in love with, is the vibrant, stimulating young woman you are now".
“Do you really think so?” I asked hopefully. “Then why do I get these pangs of doubt? How come, while I was in his arms, I wanted to run away, too?"
“That's an easy one. How old are you, Abigail?"
“You know. I'm sixteen."
“There's your answer. And it's an answer in two ways. First, you didn't say ‘I'm thirty-three', which is what John would have answered. You answered how old you are, which is sixteen. John has become nearly as much a part of history to you as he has to everyone else. He's more your father now, and you are his daughter. Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong."
I couldn't, because she was right. I had lived now as a female for two years since my rescue, and while I had occasionally thought back to the time when I ... when I was ... him, John had drifted further and further away. The door had never slammed shut. It had just slowly and quietly closed until I had become me, this person. I thought about him now as a different person, and Susie perceived it. It was as though he was my father, and I his daughter. All that I carried forward from that life now seemed like vivid stories he had told me, lessons he had taught me, and actions he had trained into me. I was his legacy, but I wasn't him. The thought made me feel very good.
“And the second way that answer is right is that you are only sixteen, and this is your first love."
“I didn't say I was in love with him."
“No? Does your heart ache? Can you feel the thudding in your chest? Can't you still smell him, feel his arms?” I nodded. “You might be right. It may not be love. But it sure feels like it, doesn't it? Get used to never getting used to it."
“Okay. I'll try,” I nodded. “So did he really look like he was in a daze?"
“I'll say! He probably still can't find the barracks."
“That was a dirty trick, pushing me into him like that!"
“It was neither dirty nor a trick.” She snapped off the compilot and took over the controls. “Phasing in five minutes. You two looked like you needed someone to help you, so I just stepped behind you and shoved you into his arms.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. “You didn't exactly fight him off."
I sighed contentedly. “No, I didn't. Susie, it was so weird, so fantastic! When I fell into him, I was as though his strength sapped all mine. I went weak in the knees and the head. I hate not being in control of myself. With him, it was so ... so ... different. I did lose control, and I loved it! I suddenly couldn't think of anything but him. And then, when he hugged me!” I closed my eyes again and hugged myself as the memory stirred the emotion. “Oh! I fit into his arms like I was made for them! I felt safer with him than with powered armor!"
“I've felt that way, too. Never mind who, I'll tell you more when you
're older. By the way, here's a tip, Abby. Never compare a romantic experience with combat. It cools down the mood mighty fast."
“Oh. Okay. But then when you told me what one little kiss did to him. Oh, Susie! Do you think he really cares for me? Aren't I too young?"
She stared at me. “You mean you've been with us for two years and you don't know what the acceptable age is for marrying?"
I shook my head. “I never really thought about it. I had always assumed I would have to go through life without a husband.” I shook my head for a different reason. “Wow, was I an idiot to think that!"
“Yes, you were an idiot. Don't look at me like that, you offered the comment, and I agreed with your assessment. Anyway, girls start marrying at fifteen in our society. There's really no—"
“Fifteen! That's young! When I was growing up, it was considered young to get married at twenty!"
“Don't interrupt. Times change. Even though the legal age for citizenship is twenty-five, marriage can and does happen early. Probably because our planet could stand a little re-population. One day, it will probably be back to twenty. As I was saying, there's no stigma though for those who marry later, even thirty or forty years later. So I hate to break the news to you kid, but you're already considered eligible. At least by one, kind, loving, and really handsome guy."
She glanced at the marker. “Two minutes to phase. Hitch up and settle down."
I adjusted my harness and pulled the computer interface close.
“I'm going to say hi to Mike. I feel a little bad that I haven't already. I've just been so busy."
“You want my opinion, he deserves to be ignored. He's been pretty abrupt to everybody once we cut off his access to you. Uh, one thing, Abigail.” I looked at her curiously. “Don't tell him about Aaron. I know it sounds odd, but he might get jealous. Find other stuff to talk about, okay?"
I mulled it over and nodded. “You're right, Susie. He's a kind of cyber-brother and pal to me, but he might not take this well. I know I'm having a hard enough time. That's all right, though. We've got lots of other things to do and talk about.” I thought about it another minute, then pushed the monitor away.
“On second thought, I think I'll wait until we're in our safe house. Using the puter during phase isn't personal enough. I want to be standing with him when we talk."
“He'll be pretty sore."
I pulled up the internal navputer and adjusted it for my skills and preferences. “I know. But maybe he'll learn to be more considerate with my friends. If he had acted nicer, you might have had me talk to him sooner. Maybe not even cut off his access to me."
“I'd like to think that. But I don't.” She flipped a power lever and the McDonald phase unit began charging. “Let's see. We'll be making a three-leg trip, to throw off sounder probes. We'll have totals of six hours of ground travel to recharge the unit and another eight hours of phasing. This tub doesn't go near as fast as our combat ones do. It's about 1600 now. Fourteen hours travel makes it 0600. Knock off nine hours time difference and it'll be 2100 when we hit Phoenix. Thirty seconds.” She reached for the covered switch between us and rotated it to armed position.
“Is that 2100 tonight or 2100 tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Who cares? We're on leave!” she laughed.
I left Susie to her piloting and looked out over the desert. It was very beautiful, nearly as beautiful as my own native desert. I wondered if there would come a day when, instead of Susie and I going on leave, it would be Aaron and I going on our—and here my heart made a heavy thud and landed on its back—on our honeymoon. Girls married at fifteen. I was already at the marrying age. Could I? Would I? It didn't seem anywhere near as impossible as it had the day I found out who I was two years ago. It did seem just as scary. But it was the kind of scary that I wanted to face up to, especially if the reward was Aaron.
Susie activated the McDonald phase unit. I felt the air become bone dry and warm. I concentrated on the navigational display, waiting for the sudden dip that told me we were going down into the sands.
I suppose today was starting out all right, after all.
PLEASE ... I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE ROOM...
* * *
Chapter Three
It was night when we hoved into Phoenix. It had been a long day. We jumped up to Europe to get lost in the normal traveling crowd, then ducked over to Chicago, putting an extra twenty miles of rock between us and the New York glasslands when we phased under it. One drawback to phased travel was that you were a great deal more susceptible to radiation poisoning, and that section of North America was going to be hot for another half dozen millennia unless someone came up with a faster way to clean out radiation. Our third phase got us to just outside Phoenix. I was looking forward to seeing the Valley of the Sun again. We had made several raids to the area, but that was before I went into combat duty. So that made my last visit here about 650 years ago, which is a wee bit of time. I somehow doubted I would recognize it, and it seemed a little ludicrous to maintain that I was “from” there. But I was.
We came around the Superstitions and the valley opened up in front of us. I was leaning forward tight against my harness to see better. I could have seen a great deal more by just calling up the holo display, but this was real.
The valley was lit up by millions of stars that dotted the crystal clear night sky of the desert. There was no pollution, and I could make out lights as far away as the White Tanks, over seventy kilometers to the west. What light there was on the ground seemed to have little impact on the night sky.
My first impression verified what I had suspected; I didn't recognize too much. Downtown, located near the center of the valley where the Salt River Bed flowed, was gone. Only inky blackness filled the middle of the valley, accented by occasional small clusters that could have been only several homes at most. Everyone else had moved to the various mountain ranges that surrounded the valley. South Mountain and the Sierra Estrellas had the greatest concentration, though even those groupings were only modest in size.
It was the number of everyone elses that made the biggest change. I had looked up the local history before leaving. When I last visited in 2024, shortly before my “death", Phoenix and its suburbs had just reached two million. The population had peaked at four million just before the hyperidors were perfected. Then emigration became the thing to do, and the population halved. It became a refuge city during the Terran/Mars Wars, getting to three million briefly, but that was it. After the wars, the population again emigrated or moved, and the valley returned to its natural desert state. Today, there were less than one hundred thousand living in the Valley of the Sun.
We skimmed over the glassmac—much of the world used a rock hard surface of glass for organized ground travel—and turned the hov northwest. Our hosts’ home lay near Thunderbird Mountain. As we shot along the road at 200 kph, I tried to take in as much of the scenery as I could. I couldn't get over how magnificent the visibility was. Even in the black of the desert night I could make out cacti, larger outcroppings of rock and the like. When we skimmed over the glass bridge spanning the Salt River, I could see the reflection of the stars off the water beneath us. It was all very exciting, and I was wide awake, despite the bone weariness that came with extended phased travel.
Less than ten minutes later, the homing indicator pinged and the hov slowed down. Susie turned off the main road and nudged the craft across the desert toward a home nestled in the crook of two arms of the smallish Thunderbird Mountain. There was no road, but there was a cleared path that gave us easy clearance. As we approached, a light came on, flooding the immediate area with what looked like bright moonlight. No doubt the home's computer was keeping an eye on us, expecting and offering friendliness, but prepared for a quick defense just in case. Susie pulled us along side two other hovers and powered down. The craft made a gentle grinding sound as its weight settled onto the rocks and sand. Susie began stand down procedures while I asked for, and received, permission to
link up our puter with the house. Inside the adobe home I could make out movement as our hosts prepared to greet us.
Finishing up, Susie lowered the rear door and we stepped out. The heat and smell of the desert washed over me, demanding my immediate attention. I stretched and looked up into the sky. It was so beautiful! I spun around, taking in the beauty and serenity of the land. How I had missed it! The smell of the sagebrush and mesquite, the utter silence, even the occasional puffs of dry, hot air that wandered over the desert, giving the faintest promise of coolness despite the warmth, and telling stories to those who could translate the rich smells and interpret the hushed sounds. The thrill of the sensations washed away—at least for the moment—any sleepiness I had.
Susie handed me my bag which she had pulled out of storage, and we walked up to the doorway of the adobe. A man and a woman waited for us. They were older, perhaps in their sixties, and they were clearly husband and wife. He was tall and had a head of silver hair with traces of black through it. She was about normal height, though still taller than Susie and I who were both shorter than most, and had gray hair. Her smile spread across her face and into her eyes, which had the telltale crows feet of someone who very much knew laughter and desert sun. Both were deeply tanned, and he looked as though he were perhaps from the Apache people.
Susie dropped her bag and offered both of her empty hands, palms up. As the elder visitor, she spoke first and to the man, who was the elder host.
“Greetings. My name is Susan Lendler. You are Thomas Kovin."
He raised both his hands as well. He smiled and returned the greeting, addressing me. “Welcome to our home. I am Thomas Kovin. You are Abigail Wyeth.” I stepped forward, bowing to the woman. Because I was the youngest of all, I bowed deeply, keeping my arms straight at my side.
“I am Abigail Wyeth. You are Rachel Kovin. Thank you for your hospitality."
She bowed to me, then to Susan, speaking to her. “I am Rachel Kovin. You are Susan Lendler. Our home is now yours. Come in, and rest."
Shards [Book Two] Page 5
