Offspring (26 page)

“Gretchen,” Tan growled.

A ‘The High Court made its final ruling today on Bellerophon’s long-standing mining, farming, and tree harvesting restrictions,’ “ Gretchen read aloud. A ‘In a four-to-three vote, the Court ruled to relax all three restrictions, effective immediately.’ “

“All life,” Kendi said.

A ‘Gubernatorial candidate Mitchell Foxglove praised the ruling minutes after it was handed down. “This was the right decision for the right time,” he said in a press conference on the steps of the High Court building. “All the people of Bellerophon will benefit this time, not just the Silent, as it was before the Despair.” ‘ The man’s a walking butt-crack.”

“I assume that last sentence wasn’t part of the quote,” Petrie said in an icy voice.

“Ched-Pirasku?” Tan asked in her raspy voice.

“He’s next. ‘Opposing candidate Ched-Pirasku was more cautious. “I am sure everything will work out for the best,” he said in a prepared statement. “I look forward to seeing the impact on our economy.” ‘ The guy has the personality of a damp sponge. How he survives as a gubernatorial candidate, I’ll never understand.”

“What did they say about Senator Reza?” Petrie demanded.

“That she wasn’t available for comment,” Gretchen said. “She isn’t even—oh, wait. This is coming from a feed owned by Foxglove. They probably didn’t try very hard to reach her.”

“Polls?” Petrie said. Her data pad was open.

Gretchen checked. “Latest one shows Foxglove on the rise to the tune of sixteen percentage points,” she reported. “Salman dropped by eight. Except among the military.”

“No,” Petrie whispered. “God, she’s in last place now. Gretchen, get us back to Treetown. Fast! This is a crisis.”

Her pad chimed and a hologram of Salman’s head popped up. The flitcar took off.

“I heard,” Petrie said, her lips tight. “We’re already on our way.”

“The bastard’s leapfrogged right over me,”
Salman snapped.
“The mining companies are already taking applications, and so are the loggers. Treetown’s going to be empty within a week, Wanda. Be ready for an all-nighter.”

“Not me,” Kendi said. “The ruling sucks rocks and gravel, Grandma, but I’m so bushed I could sleep on a bed of nails. I need a break.”

“Don’t get too comfortable at home, my duck,”
Salman warned.
“We’re going to need you even more if we want to catch up. Thank the wretched skies we have almost ten months before the election or we’d be fucked.”

The hologram vanished and Petrie shut her data pad with a snap. Her face was pale and her lips were drawn tight over her teeth. Her eyes glittered above a sharp nose. “We can’t allow her to lose,” she said, half to herself. “We just can’t.”

Kendi patted her shoulder. “You look more upset than Grandma. Listen, Wanda, it’s just one election. Grandma could always run again in five years if she doesn’t—”

“No!” Petrie spat with so much vehemence that Tan reached for her sidearm. “She has to win
this
election, Kendi. No matter what, Senator Reza has to get the governor’s chair.”

“Hey, I want her to win, too,” Kendi said, “but it’s not life and death.”

“Maybe not to you.” Petrie pecked out every word. “If it weren’t for the Senator, I’d be...I’d be on the street. I had a dead-end job with a...a boss who made me miserable, and I couldn’t afford to quit. Not after the Despair. And then I got sick, and my boss wouldn’t pay the medical expenses. Then he fired me on top of everything.”

“What kind of job did you have?”

But Petrie barreled on. “Senator Reza was speaking at the hospital when they discharged me. I still don’t know where I got the courage, but I marched up to her and asked for a job. It startled her so much she said ‘yes,’ and I ended up in her office pool. I worked sixty and seventy hours a week for her, I was so grateful, and she promoted me closer and closer to her.” Petrie’s eyes took on fire. “I’ve seen her at her best and at her worst. She yells and howls at her staff sometimes, but did you know she donated half a million freemarks to an orphanage run by the Church of Irfan?”

“No,” Kendi said.

“Of course not,” Petrie said. “It’s because she won’t tell anyone. It’s PR gold, but the Senator said she won’t use it because it would be exploiting the kids. She wants what’s best for them, and she wants what’s best for Bellerophon. I won’t let her lose this election, Kendi. Foxglove and Ched-Pirasku will have to dance a waltz on my grave first.”

The heat in her voice made Kendi recoil for a moment. She sounded like a religious fanatic praising a prophet. “With you on her side,” he said with newly-learned diplomacy, “I don’t see how she could lose.”

Petrie spent the rest of the trip pecking at her data pad. Kendi half-dozed in his seat and was jarred into wakefulness only when the flitcar landed next to the drawbridge. Gretchen, Tan, and Kendi got out while Petrie took the controls. She gave a curt farewell and took off.

Down beneath the trees, darkness was already falling. Tan lowered the drawbridge. Kendi caught sight of Grandmother Mee putting away her gardening tools in her house below theirs. He waved at her and she returned the gesture. A pang of guilt touched him. He knew she was Silenced and lonely, but he hadn’t spoken to her since the day the drawbridges had been installed. These days, the campaign ate up most of his time and the rest was given over to Ben and Harenn. Bedj-ka, too, for that matter. Maybe he and Ben could invite Grandmother Mee up for dinner.

“If you two don’t need me tonight,” Gretchen said, “I’ll head home.”

Tan gave assent, and Gretchen trotted off toward the monorail station.

“Don’t know how you do it,” Tan rasped as the drawbridge ahead of her lowered itself.

“Do what?” Kendi said.

“Inspire people that way. Woman made three-quarters of a mil on that game. Between that and her future royalties, she could retire. But she still wants to guard you.”

Kendi’s face grew warm. “I think it keeps her busy. Takes her mind off being Silenced, you know?”

“I do know,” Tan said grimly and stood aside so Kendi could enter the house.

The sound of many voices engaged in conversation met their ears. They encountered Lars sitting alone in the living room. He merely nodded as they passed. In the kitchen they found a lively group gathered around the table. Ben, Bedj-ka, Harenn, Martina, and Keith were playing a card game. Hands of holographic cards hovered in front of each player. Martina flicked one and it fled to the discard pile. Bedj-ka brushed it with his finger and it rose to join his own hand. Lucia was at a counter mixing something in a bowl. Kendi stuck his finger into the mixture out of general principle and Lucia rapped his knuckles with her spoon.

“Wash your hands first,” she said. “How did the speech go?”

Kendi licked his finger. Salty and spicy, with a sour cream base. Had to be some kind of snack dip. “Fine. I’m wiped, though.”

Tan leaned against the door jamb. “The High Court ruled the mining restrictions invalid.”

“We heard,” Harenn said. She had just started her second trimester, and was showing. Ben said she was already fending off guerrilla attacks from total strangers who wanted to rub her stomach. Ben himself was looking more relaxed and happy than Kendi had seen him in a long time. No one had contacted them about the contents of the stolen disk in the past three months, and Ben had finally written it off as a random mugging, just as Kendi had.

“I assume Senator Reza is unhappy,” Harenn added.

“Good guess.” Kendi kissed Ben hello, then impulsively kissed Harenn’s cheek as well. “Mom,” he said. Harenn laughed. Her face was rounder these days.

“Ew!” Bedj-ka said, and discarded.

“Keep the comments to yourself, junior,” Kendi said.

“Less talk, more play,” Keith said. “I’m up ten points.”

Lucia set the bowl of dip on the table along with another bowl filled with deep-fried
ben-yai
leaves. Several hands went at once to the treats and the crunching began. Kendi sat on the counter, surveying all these people in his home. Children would only increase the size of the crowd. But everyone here, with the exception of quiet Lars, was someone Kendi considered family. The idea of his and Ben’s house becoming the hub of an extended family network filled him with a joy he couldn’t describe.

“Did you have dinner?” Lucia asked. “I’ve noticed Petrie isn’t big on keeping you fed.”

“I can call Maureen’s,” Kendi said.

Lucia waved a hand at him. “Sit, mighty Father. We have leftover mickey spike pot roast and gravy. I baked bread this morning, and Ben didn’t eat all the fruit salad, so I’d say you’re good for a hot sandwich with gravy and a fruit cup.”

“Your drippings gravy?” Kendi said. His mouth was watering.

“Of course.”

“We must do something to keep this wondrous woman around,” Kendi remarked to no one in particular. “Maybe we should—”

“n alarm buzzed through the room. The talk fell silent as everyone looked around, trying to locate the source. Abruptly Ben bolted to his feet and ran from the kitchen. Kendi followed. He didn’t recognize the sound, but the expression on Ben’s face left no doubt that it was bad news.

Ben ran into his den and grabbed the star-shaped cryo-unit from his desk. It was buzzing unhappily. Ben tapped at the controls, then glanced up at Kendi, face pale.

“What’s wrong?” Kendi demanded.

“One of the embryos is degrading,” Ben said. “It’s going to die soon.”

“All life,” Kendi whispered. Implications flashed through his mind. The dying one was only a single embryo out of the ten left. Cryo-embryos degraded and died all the time, and it was a small miracle that these had survived so long. But Kendi knew all the embryos were important to Ben, that he wanted to give life to each one. To Ben, losing one of these embryos would be like losing a child.

“Is there anything we can do?” Kendi said.

“How much time is left?” Lucia asked behind him.

Ben checked the reading. He looked ready to cry. “An hour, maybe less.”

“Then we’ll have to hurry,” she said briskly. “Harenn! Can you make the call? We need to run.”

“On it,” Harenn called from the kitchen.

Lucia grabbed Kendi by the arm and towed him toward the front door, gesturing for Ben to follow. “Move!” she said. “Quick!”

“Call who?” Kendi said, bewildered. “Run where?”

“The medical center,” Lucia said. “There’s only one way I know of to save that embryo.”

“Implant it,” Ben said.

Forty-five minutes later, Lucia lay draped in green on a medical table with Ben and Kendi standing beside her. Dr. McCall’s plump fingers worked with quick efficiency, examining Lucia and readying the implantation equipment. The room was eerily quiet. A light on the cryo-unit flashed a frantic warning—Ben had silenced the buzzing alarm. Kendi swallowed. Last time they had visited this room, the atmosphere had been cheerful and optimistic. Now it was grim and filled with worry.

“I think we’re ready,” Dr. McCall said. She opened the cryo-unit with a hiss of escaping steam, plucked a frozen ampule from among the ten still contained inside, and inserted it into the implantation device. “Please relax, Ms. dePaolo. You’ll feel a slight pressure but no pain.”

Kendi, Ben, and Lucia linked hands without speaking. A moment later, Dr. McCall straightened and set the implantation syringe aside.

“Did...did it work?” Ben asked.

“I hope so,” McCall said, in stark contrast to her more usual cheery manner. “Ms. dePaolo’s menstrual cycle isn’t in the ideal stage for embryonic implantation. The implantation itself came off just fine, but keeping it from miscarrying is a whole other matter. Ms. dePaolo, you’ll need to stay here in the hospital for a few days so we can keep an eye on you.”

“I understand, Doctor,” she said. “But Irfan will protect this child. She won’t let anything happen to it.”

“We’ll put you in a room where you can rest,” McCall concluded. “Don’t get out of that bed, not even to go to the bathroom. You just go right where you are and the bed will take care of it.”

“n orderly wheeled Lucia’s bed to a private room a few floors up. Kendi and Ben followed. So did Lewa Tan, who had been waiting in the hallway during the implantation procedure. Kendi tried to hide his nervousness and appear confident for Ben’s sake. Ben’s face had gone all over stony.

Once Lucia was installed in her room and the nurse repeated Dr. McCall’s strict instructions about staying in bed at all costs, Ben sat next the bed and took Lucia’s hand. The nurse had set the bed to recline so Lucia could sit almost upright. Kendi leaned against the dark window glass. No stars were visible outside. Tan was waiting in the hall again.

“Lucia,” Ben said, “I’m glad you’re doing this for us. Even if it’s because of...what you know about me.”

Lucia pushed long black hair off her forehead. The white blankets and sheets on the bed contrasted with the green hospital pajamas she wore. “What I know?”

“About my parents. You and your church venerate my...my mother and—”

“You think this is because I’m a member of the Church of Irfan?” Lucia said. Then she gave a gentle laugh. “Ben, you have it wrong. I do venerate Irfan. She is wise, serene, and powerful and everyone should rise to her example. I do my best, and I often fail. But Ben—I volunteered to be a surrogate mother before I knew the truth. I would be in this hospital if your biological mother had turned out to be a slave trader, understood?”