The Sudden Star

by Pamela Sargent

  Juan shook his head. "Who does favors?"

  "I did you one, and don't forget it."

  Ildico wandered over to the window and peered outside. "I wish I could see the look on Lono's face," Aisha said. "He must be wondering how we got so lucky."

  Ildico turned around and faced her. "Didn't they tell you? Lono's dead."

  Aisha stiffened, startled. "Dead?" She giggled, realizing that she didn't care.

  "Meilani's dead, too." The blond girl's words struck Aisha like a blow: Not Meilani.

  "Why?"

  "They brought it on themselves," Ildico answered. "They had a guy set up to take René out, that's what I heard them talking about last night. Somebody must have talked. René's people went over today before the party got started. They asked Lono and Meilani outside, that's what I heard. Then they put them in the truck and shot them. We saw the bodies. They brought them back here to show the old man. Half Lono's head was blown off."

  Aisha shook her head, bewildered. "But Meilani was always so—"

  "Don't be stupid." Ildico crossed the room and stood over her. "Meilani was sending a guy here to kill the old man. Do you think he was supposed to let you live?"

  Ildico was right, Aisha thought. She was being too sentimental about Meilani. "They deserved it," Ildico went on. "They must have thought Ortega was with them. They should have known better."

  "What do we care?" Juan said. "We landed on our feet. I'm taking a bath." He rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom.

  "Ildy," Aisha said softly, "did you tell anybody about what you heard yesterday?"

  "Of course not. Take my word." Ildico unbuckled her knifebelt; a pouch dangled from it. Aisha heard the jingle of coins.

  "I just thought of something," Aisha said. "I left my money at Lono's, under the mattress, almost two hundred credits. And all my books are there."

  Ildico laughed. "Shit, you don't need them now."

  Aisha woke up during the night, sweating. She looked over at the open window. The sweet, rotting smell of the garbage in the alley reached her. She threw off her sheets. She was still hot.

  A reddish glow permeated the room. Feeling dizzy, she closed her eyes. She wanted some water. She moved her dry lips and heard someone crying far away.

  Then Ildico was lifting her up and dragging her to the bed. She closed her eyes. Someone was putting a cloth on her head. She looked up and saw a strange man hovering over her. She tried to cry out but her lips would not move. Another face appeared: Kathleen Ortega's. The yellow eyes stared through her as if she was not there. Aisha thought: Don't let me die, not now. She wanted to run, get as far from the scar-faced woman as she could.

  Aisha closed her eyes, and sank into blackness.

  FOUR

  Juan Jones

  Sometimes, Juan thought, you could get too much of a good thing. He lay in bed, a clean sheet covering his naked body, and stared at the pale blue ceiling. He stretched his arms over his head and sighed. He could lie here for a while waking up, but then he'd have to find something to do. He could take an hour to eat breakfast, which would kill some time.

  Ildico was already up. She was hogging the bathroom as usual, putting on her face. He heard her open the door and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep; he felt too bored even to talk. Her footsteps stopped next to the bed. Then he heard her go into the hall.

  He had to hand it to her. She was making the most of things here. She couldn't read, but she had one of those brains that could learn things by listening to people. She would sit and watch shows on René's screen, and not just dancers and lotteries either. Then she would visit the old man and talk to him about politics and increased crop yields on the farms and how the Tex-Mex War was going. The old guy was really starting to like her. Ildy had it, all right, personality, or something like that. She'd seem so ignorant and then act like she knew what she was doing.

  Sometimes he didn't think Ildy had that many feelings. She had some; she cared about Aisha, and Juan supposed that she was his friend too. But she never seemed to get excited about much. With her looks and her force of mind or whatever it was, she could have done a lot more. Or maybe, he thought, she knew what she was doing and was just waiting for the right break. It was Aisha who had asked the old man to take them in, but Juan knew that Ildico had grabbed things by the nuts and seized the day, or else they might have been at Lono's when Ortega came back and had everybody shot who she thought might have known about what Meilani and Lono were up to, and then he and Ildy might have been under the river or else in some whorehouse in Jersey that serviced sailors, and not even René could have helped them then.

  The old geezer sure liked Ildico. It was a good thing, too, Juan thought. Aisha wasn't up to much, after being sick. She'd been better for almost two weeks now, and she still spent most of her time sulking in her room, and after all the trouble they'd taken. René had even sent his doctor up to get her well. The old man might put up with it for a while, but not forever.

  Juan arched his back and pointed his toes. Then he curled up. So here he was, and after having a little fun, what with being able to watch the screen all day and use a toilet instead of a pisspot and spending time trying on clothes and eating plenty so he didn't have deficiencies or whatever the hell they were, he began to see that he had more opportunities when he was with Lono. It was fucking hard work being a good little boy, which was what the old man wanted and what Ildy told him he'd better be. He wasn't getting a chance to better himself or prove his ability to René.

  He got up and went over to the closet he shared with the two girls. A few shirts fell out as he opened the door. He rummaged through the clothes, spilling a few more at his feet, trying to find something that wasn't wrinkled or dirty. The last time he'd had any real fun was a week ago. He had gone outside in his old jeans and run into a couple of buddies who were members of the Savage Liberators, a gang that controlled turf three blocks down. They had discovered an old guy lying in the gutter and started shooting some stuff into him with a hypo to see what would happen. It had been funny, watching the old guy stumble around crying and then just falling over like a burned-out building, cracking his head on the sidewalk and looking like he was dead, which he probably was by then. René, Juan knew, wouldn't like that if he found out about it. He was sure a strange old guy, always holding himself like he was educated or something, and trying to get them to act like they were roof kids who had never seen shit. He didn't understand the old man. He must have had guts to get as far as he had, but he was getting soft, and if Ortega ever found a way to take over, where would he be then?

  He pulled out a blue shirt and white trousers and put them on, turning to admire himself in the mirror hanging on the door. He added a touch of Ildy's blue eye shadow, checked the brown sandals which still pinched his feet but looked nice, then went through the bathroom to Aisha's room.

  Aisha, wearing a white dress, was sitting in her chair, reading. She looked up as he entered. She actually looked prettier since being sick, he thought. Her boy's body was bonier, her black hair fluffier. The hollows in her cheeks made her eyes look larger and darker. She was as pretty as Ildy, who was the best-looking girl he had ever seen.

  "You eaten yet?" he asked her.

  "Yeah, I got up early. I didn't want to run into Ortega."

  Juan perched on one arm of the chair, draping his arm over its back. "I'm afraid of her. You can't tell what she's thinking," Aisha went on.

  "Screw her. You better start sucking up to René soon, or he'll start wondering."

  "It's pointless," she replied, breathing loudly. "He can't stand up to Ortega forever. I don't even think he knows she wants to take over, and then she'll kill us too."

  "Stop it." He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head toward him.

  "She will."

  Juan pulled her hair as hard as he could. "Stop it." She cuffed him on the side of the head with her book. He released her, grabbing the chair to keep from falling.

  "Don't
you dare hurt me, Juan. You're here because of me."

  "That shows how much you know. He likes Ildy now." He rubbed his head. "And stop thinking about Ortega."

  "I can't. She's trying to get him out and then she'll kill him, and he's not doing anything."

  "Well," he said, getting up, "there's nothing we can do about it. I'm going downstairs."

  He left and hurried through the hallway and down the stairs. The kitchen was empty. He went in and sat at the long table. He poured himself a cup of milk and began to nibble at a pastry. The milk was warm and slightly sour. He heard the door open behind him. He turned and saw Ildico, dressed in a blue shirt and shorts. Her thick hair was piled on her head. He blew her a kiss. She poured some milk and sat down.

  "You better have a talk with Aisha," he said. "She's acting crazy, talking about Ortega like she does."

  Ildico said, "René wants to retire."

  "He just talks about it."

  "He means to now."

  "He can't. Nobody comes that far and gives it up." Nervously, Juan stuffed the rest of the pastry into his mouth.

  "He can. He has friends and they'll watch Ortega, take my word."

  "He won't have any friends if he retires." He thought: Maybe Aisha's right. "And what happens to us?" he asked.

  "What are you worried about?" Ildico reached over and patted his arm. "He'll take care of us. He knows people, so he can set us up in something. And Ortega'll leave us alone then, as long as we don't bother her."

  Ildy, he told himself, was always right. He had to remember that, and trust her. But he couldn't help worrying, especially with all this dead time to worry in; he was getting too used to the comfort and if he kept going like this, it wouldn't be long before he couldn't do much else. He thought about the long day facing him and decided to fortify himself with another pastry.

  Juan sat with Aisha on the floor of her room, squinting at the pages of Lisa's Lusts. She was teaching him from sexy books now. She had tried a book about animals in a forest once, but how could he read that shit with a straight face?

  He put the book down and said, "My eyes are starting to hurt." He couldn't read for long without getting a headache, and he had to hold the book at arm's length to read the pages. People, he thought, weren't made for reading.

  "I guess you did enough for one day," she said. "You better hide that book where René won't see it."

  "What's the use?" he said, remembering what Ildy had told him. He wondered if he should say anything to Aisha. It didn't matter; she'd find out soon enough. "Ildy told me the old guy's retiring."

  "He just talks about it," Aisha said, not sounding as though she believed it.

  "She says he means to this time."

  "He can't!" Aisha wailed. "He just can't."

  Juan slapped her. "Keep it down, will you?" She slapped him back. He seized her shoulders and pinned her to the floor. "Ildy says not to worry." She relaxed and he released her. She sat up and moved away from him, then folded her legs, resting her back against the bed.

  "What's going to happen to us?"

  "How the fuck do I know?" He shrugged. "Ildy said he might set us up somewhere."

  "No, he won't. He'll keep us with him. Don't you know anything? He acts like we're his kids."

  Juan was puzzled. "But we're not." He recalled his own father slamming the door in his face and telling him not to come back. He didn't know what Aisha was talking about.

  "Don't be so stupid," she said. He wanted to hit her again, but decided to wait until she explained. Instead she stood up. "I'd better go downstairs and read to René," she went on. "Why don't you come along? You might learn something."

  René said, "There's something I want to tell you two."

  Juan sat up, trying to look attentive. Aisha put down the book she had just picked up. "You know I want to retire. I'm old and I'm sick."

  Juan took a breath. Here it comes, he thought. "I won't be living here anymore," the old man continued. "I can take you kids with me. I'll still keep an eye on things, and you can have some opportunities, but you have to have the brains to take them. I won't wrap them up and hand them to you."

  Juan waited. Ildy had said René had a place up in Riverdale. "Know anything about farms?" Rend asked. Aisha shook her head. Juan shrugged. "I've got a farm upstate. And I own land on two others near it. That's where a lot of our food comes from, and I get good prices for the rest from my friends on the ration board. A doctor told me a while back I wasn't going to live long here if I didn't rest." René paused to clear his throat. "I think I might be going up there. There's a big house, plenty of trees, even a lake to swim in."

  Juan shuddered. Aisha's eyes were large; her mouth fell open. René lay back on the bed, hands folded, eyes gazing at the ceiling. "Now farm families," he said, "have their own ways. They work hard, but they have horses and machines for a lot of work, and migrants do some. They have food, protection from the army, plenty of room. You kids are the right age to marry into a farm family if you want. You can have a good life."

  Juan was frightened now; he would have to speak. "Uh, can I—" He stopped. His voice was cracking. "If things are so good there, why do they come here?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "People from the farms, they keep coming here."

  "Because there isn't enough room for everybody there," the old man answered. "You have enough people to run the farms. The rest of them have to come here to work. So you have to work out there, but you can have something, at least."

  Juan sighed. He wanted to run away and disappear in the streets, but then he'd have to start all over again, and his chance to make contacts would be gone. He looked down at the floor, feeling trapped. He had to talk to Ildy, ask her what to do. He looked over at Aisha. Her knuckles were almost white as she clutched the book, pulling it to her chest.

  René said, "You can read now."

  Juan was discovering that travel made him sick. He closed his eyes, feeling his ass bump against the seat under him. The truck rumbled as it bounced along the road. Ernie Mathen, the big man driving the truck, had cuffed Juan when he asked him to stop for a minute. Ernie was only nice to him when René was around, and René had been loaded, with a mattress, into the back of the truck.

  The old man had decided to leave the city right after getting papers for all of them. He got the papers fast; Kathleen Ortega had seen to that. Juan tried not to think of Aisha's predictions, because Ildy had told him not to listen. Aisha had said Ortega would settle things in New York and then send someone to kill them all. Ortega had to, Aisha had argued, because René would still control much of their food supply, and the business it involved, with the farm. He had to believe Ildy when she said not to worry, because there was nothing else he could do. He hated her for convincing him. Without Ildy, he would have been in the streets now instead of in a truck, ready to vomit. The ride would kill him before Ortega could.

  They had driven up the West Side of the city, stopping only to have their papers checked. They had been stopped one last time before leaving the Bronx. Ernie had paid the sergeant who stopped them, let him search the trucks, and then they were off, heading toward the Tappan Zee Bridge. A helicopter would have been faster, but René wouldn't set foot in one, so they were traveling in a convoy, three trucks loaded with bodyguards and provisions. Juan decided he hated René too. They had crossed the Hudson, passing several estates the army had confiscated, then had driven north for a while, and then turned west. The roads were filled with potholes, which meant Ernie had to drive carefully.

  They bounced and Juan moaned. He opened his eyes; it was getting dark. He leaned against Ildico. "I feel awful," he whined.

  "Slam it shut," Ernie said. "You get sick in this truck, and I'll be giving you something else to be sick about."

  "Don't worry," Ildico whispered. "We'll have to stop soon, put in more gas, get some rest."

  That didn't make him feel any better. The trees loomed above them on the side of the road; he thought of wild
animals, lions, bears, tearing them apart in the night. He'd rather take his chances with robbers. He held on to Ildy. They bounced again and a sour taste filled his mouth.

  Ernie suddenly turned, driving off the highway onto a bypass, then onto a dirt road. The road climbed a hill overlooking the highway. The truck, groaning and creaking, trundled up the road while Juan hugged his stomach and Ildy stroked his head. I'll never get in a truck again, Juan swore silently.

  The truck stopped in a clearing. Ernie got out. Juan lay against Ildico. "Come on, get out," the blond girl said. "You'll be all right in a minute."

  She lifted him, dragging him out, and dropped him on the grass. He sat there, waiting for everything to come out of his guts. Aisha, he noticed dimly, was climbing out of the second truck; she didn't look too steady. He took a few breaths, then realized he wouldn't be sick.

  He looked around the clearing, seeing now why Ernie had stopped here. They could see the highway and had a clear view of the dirt road, which ended at the clearing. Beneath them, on the other side of the hill, was a wooded area. Someone could hide there, but could not approach the trucks without crossing an open area. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to do that, he thought, gazing at the guards. René had brought twelve guards, two machine guns, and several rifles.

  Aisha wandered over to him on shaky legs and sat down abruptly; her head was hanging between her shoulders. Ildy was stretching. She put her arms over her head, then leaned over to touch her toes. Ernie came around the truck and stopped in front of Juan.

  "Now you kids listen," the big man said. Juan stared at Ernie's black boots. "No lights after dark except if you're inside a truck. No wandering outside this area without you tell somebody where you're going, and no going where you can't see the trucks. You can piss behind that bush over there. Get some sleep because we leave at dawn." The booted feet walked away; Juan saw a hole in the right sole.