Dream thief

18

… YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE to trust somebody." Ari's voice was firm. "You can't go it alone."

They were sitting in her father's reading room. A plate of sandwiches sat untouched on the low table in front of them. Spence stared at the walled ranks of books as if he might find a title among them that would tell him what to say next.

"I need time to sort this out," he said at length. "There are too many pieces missing."

"I don't like it, Spence-this running away. It isn't safe."

He swung around to peer at her with a puzzled look. "It'll be all right," he said lamely. "I need to get away from here for a while, that's all."

"What makes you think that if someone is tampering with your experiment they would stop there? They could hurt you, Spence. For whatever reason, you could get hurt very badly."

He had no answer for that. The same thing had crossed his mind many times in the last few hours. "Ari, all I know is that if I stay I will be hurt. I've got to go someplace out of reach to figure this thing out."

There was a finality in his tone that did not invite further discussion. Ari sat with her hands in her lap, legs drawn up beneath her. She studied her clasped hands and said, "I'll miss you."

He smiled. "I'll miss you, too. Believe me, if I thought there was another way, I'd take it." He drew a deep breath. "I won't be gone long; you'll see. I'll be back in no time at all."

"I don't call three-and-a-half months no time at all." She colored slightly and admitted, "I was just getting used to having you around. "

"We'll pick up right where we left off, I promise." He looked at her steadily and said, "If I stayed, you wouldn't want me around. It would be more of the same. Worse maybe."

"You're probably right. Perhaps it is better this way." She turned her head away quickly. He moved closer and touched her shoulder tentatively.

"Are you crying?"

"No!" she sniffed. "I'm allergic to good-byes."

Spence put his hand to her chin and turned her face toward him. A moist trail glistened on her cheek where a tear had fallen. He wiped away the spot and bent his head and kissed her very gently.

"That's for missing me," he said shyly.

Ari smiled and sniffed, rubbing the heel of her hand across her eyes. "The secret's out now, isn't it?" She looked at him again and he felt his insides turning to warm jelly. "Be very careful, Spencer. Don't let anything happen to you."

"I won't…," he managed to croak.

"Spence, I will pray for you every day." She folded her hands unconsciously. "I have been praying for you ever since we met."

He felt as if he had just stepped into a warm shower. His skin tingled with a strange excitement and his heart tugged within him. He wished that he could say that he would pray for her, too. But he knew that such a statement would ring false. It would cheapen her sincere belief. And though Spence himself had no such beliefs, he did not see any good reason to trample on hers.

"Thank you, Ari," he said at last. "No one has ever said that to me before."

They sat for a long time in silence. Finally, he rose uneasily to his feet and said, "I guess I'd better go. I've a lot to do if I'm going to leave tomorrow night."

"Am I going to see you before you go?"

"I hope so. I'll come by here before I head down to the docking bay. Now you're sure-"

"Yes, you're cleared. And no one outside of Captain Kalnikov knows you're going."

"Good."

"But Spence, shouldn't you tell somebody? Someone should know."

"You know. Everyone else will find out after I'm gone."

Ari sighed. "All right, if that's the way you want it."

They moved to the portal and Spence pressed the access plate. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, ducking quickly outside.

"Good night, Spencer." Ari waved. He waved back and the closing panel broke the spell between them.

He hurried back to his quarters feeling like a cat burglar returning., after a night's work. A thousand details had to be attended to before he climbed aboard the transport headed for Mars; between now and then he had precious little time to spare. He would need to work through the night. …

HE HAD JUST CLOSED the door to the vidphone booth at ComCen when the call came through. He sat down and leaned into the camera slightly, resting his elbows on the shelf before him. The flat, square screen flickered to life in quick bursts of blue light. He smiled when the red light above the screen came on.

"Spence, it's Kate. Are you surprised to see me?"

He had not expected to see his sister, and for a few seconds could only stare at the image on the screen. In fact, he had imagined so many emergencies which might have provoked the call that he was a little disappointed to see her.

"Your sister, Kate-remember?" She smiled nervously. "Kate, are you all right? Is everything all right?"

"I know I should have given you more warning. Yes, every thing's fine. No emergencies. You sound angry."

"It's just that it's in the middle of the night here-"

"I'm sorry. I forgot. It's three o'clock in the afternoon down here."

Spence forced himself to smile in answer to her anxious look. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind. I wasn't sleeping anyway. When ComCen said I had a call coming through, I assumed something terrible had happened to Dad or one of the boys… you know."

"Everyone's fine, Spence. I just wanted to talk to you-I hope I'm not interrupting one of your experiments…" "No, no; I'm not working tonight."

"Well, I feel so awkward. I mean, just think, you're a million miles out in space and here I am talking to you like you were across town or something."

"Wait 'til you get the bill. You won't think I was all that close then." He paused, studying her face on the screen. Though only two years older then he was, Kate had always been the wise, benevolent elder sister. He saw her now, a mother of two growing boys, looking more than ever like a matron. She bore little resemblance to the picture of her he carried around in his head.

"You look tired, Spence. Are you feeling all right?" she was saying.

"I'm fine. I've been working a little too hard, that's all."

"Dad said you'd had an accident."

"It was nothing. I bumped my head."

The conversation seemed to dry up at that point. Kate licked her lips. She was trying to bridge the gap of all those miles by staring very hard into the vidphone screen. Spence realized. it was not a separation of miles but of life that she was trying to cross. She was trying to imagine his life in that place. Clearly, it was beyond her.

"Why did you call, Kate?" he asked softly.

"Are you angry? Don't be angry, Spence. You'll think it's silly-"

"I won't think it's silly, and I'm not angry. Believe me. Now go ahead and tell me."

She appeared as if she were about to confess a scarlet sin. "Spence, Tuesday's Dad's birthday."

A pang of guilt arrowed through him. He did not feel guilty for forgetting his father's birthday; he had done that often over the years. He felt guilty because the event meant nothing to him. He did not care, and Kate's reminder made him face the fact that other sons did remember; they did care.

"I'm sorry," he said flatly. "I forgot."

"That's not why I called. Not to remind you. Well, yes it is, but not how you think. Dad says that you told him you're going on some research trip."

"I told him that, yes. I remember."

"Anyway, he's got it in his head that he's never going to see you again. You know how he gets sometimes. No amount of talking will convince him. He says he's sure something terrible is going to happen to you on that trip-he doesn't even know where you're going-and that he'll never see you again."

Spence could see his father sitting in his faded red chair mumbling and fretting over his son's imagined demise. It was one of the stock images of Spence's childhood and he hated it.

"What do you want me to do, Kate?" he asked, wishing that his mother was still alive. At least she had been able to soothe his father's irrational fears; she had been the cooling balm poured out upon the fevered brow of her husband.

She answered hesitantly. "It would be nice if you would call him and wish him happy birthday. That way he could see you and hear your voice. It might convince him that you're still okay, and that you're thinking about him."

"I'd love to do that, Kate, but I can't. I'll be on my way to Mars by then. I'm leaving tomorrow night and I won't be back for some time." He did not feel like rehearsing the details of his trip with her.

"Mars! Really, Spencer? That's fantastic. Wait until I tell the boys-they'll be so thrilled." Her enthusiasm died almost at once. "But what about Dad?"

"I'm sorry. He'll just have to understand."

"But isn't there something you could do, Spence? Anything?"

"I could record a call and have it sent then. I could also send a souvenir of the station-he might like that."

"Would you? It would make him so happy. I'm sure whatever you could send would be fine. It isn't the gift, it's the thought that counts,"

But it was Kate's thought-and that was the whole point. "I'll get something on the next shuttle."

"Just send it to me. We're having a little family party for him on Tuesday night. I'll take care of everything."

"Fine. You'll be notified about the call. I'll make sure they give you plenty of time to get to the base."

There was a strained pause. "Well, Spence, I'd better go. Take care of yourself, now. And call when you get back. I know two boys who will want to hear their Uncle Spence tell 'em all about it."

"I'll do that, Kate. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Spence."

The screen went dark. He sat for a moment gazing into the flat gray square. Then he stood stiffly and left the booth, feeling very hollow and alone, as if every liquid gram of compassion had been wrung out of him in the pitiful effort of conversation with one of his family members.

He wandered back to his quarters, gray-faced and eyes burning from the exhaustion of his long day. He stopped briefly at the Visitor's Center to browse among various souvenirs and memorabilia offered as mementos of a trip to Gotham. He selected a small, cast aluminum replica of the space station which was mounted on a grayish stone-part of an asteroid or a moon rock-and designed undoubtedly to be used as a paperweight.

He paid for his purchase, rattling off his account number to a bored clerk who dutifully punched in the data.

"You want it wrapped?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"No thanks, I'll eat it here," he said, and stuffed the object into a zippered pocket and shambled off to his night's rest.