Out of Touch (53 page)

Howard shook his head and looked downward rather gravely, “I’ve been trying since yesterday, but James said there weren’t any new zoots on you when he checked.” Howard looked way more disappointed than she felt.

“Is he likely to drop by?” Sarah asked.

“As you wish,” Howard smiled, and James walked through the door.

“What’s all this?” James asked. “Are you all right?”

“Seems you’d know better than I. I hear you’ve projected the genetics of your potential grandchildren.”

“How did you know?”

“Everyone told me.”

“No, that I was your father,” James said softly.

“Oh,” Sarah suddenly calmed down from near mania and realized how crowded the bedroom was. “I guess I heard you tell Lisa. Should I not have said?”

“No, I was just not saying until I spoke to you.” James leaned against the dresser, hands clenching and unclenching along the top edge.

“But you talked about my genetics?”

“Just your kids. Reggie could deduce almost all of it from knowing about himself and that you’re a teek. Did they tell you about mine?”

Sarah shook her head. James’ hands were still now, but his face seemed a little pink. Was he blushing?

“Well, according to Dr. Knockham’s information, I should be a teek too, without the new zoots. Since I don’t have both at the same time the way Howard does, it’s possible there’s another sequence involved. I’ve located one possibility. But not having proper research facilities, and well, for reasons of inter-community trust and security, I’ve decided to rid myself of new zoots, at least temporarily. So, I’ll know tonight, one way or the other.”

“Tonight? It’s not a full moon yet,” Sarah said.

“They’re going to do a special ceremony,” Reggie mumbled, passing her more toast, “They’ve asked if I want to participate too. I was going to discuss it with you, all of it.”

“Do you guys know what’s involved?” Sarah glanced at Oliver, wondering if there were taboos on what could be said, but he was busy stealing a piece of her toast. “About the touch sensitivity and the silent treatment and all that?”

“It was explained,” James said, “But if Howard and I are going to work with these people, letting them read our minds is the easiest way for them to trust us. That part won’t work on Reggie though. Learned resistance to telepathy happens at a cognitive processing level. It doesn’t change with the symbiotes.”

“And I didn’t say I’m doing this, at least not tonight,” Howard said, still propped in the doorway at a curious angle, looking more like he was leaving than standing still. The flowers he’d been holding now lay on the dresser, and Sarah guessed he must have teeked them, because he’d stayed pretty well glued to the door.

Sarah felt as if she was drowning beneath waves of data and change. Where she’d once been separated from the world by secrets she kept, she was now distanced by a rapid flow of information. And the memory of her own silent time in this house tore like an arrow in her side. She didn’t want Reggie opening up to touch when she was so limited, and she didn’t want to be part of any of it here.

“Would it be okay if we continued this later?” Sarah asked.

There were many looks of concern, but the crowd rapidly cleared. When only Reggie remained he asked, “Should I go as well?”

“No, please don’t.” They sat silently together eating breakfast, slightly cold.

“Reggie, I don’t want to be here for their ceremony tonight or while they’re teaching James to guard his thoughts. And if you’re not too eager to lose the new zoots, I’d really rather you waited.”

Reggie leaned toward her eagerly, despite her appearance and limitations. He kissed her tenderly without laying a hand anywhere else on her body. “We could go on a practice honeymoon, maybe scout for a place to stay.”

“I love your practical side,” she said.

As Reggie gripped the metal safety rails and lowered himself upside down to kiss the Blarney stone, Sarah felt her back tighten, teek ready, to catch him if he started to fall. Not that anyone could fall here; it was all made so convenient and safe for tourists. But part of her wondered if there mightn’t have been teeks instead of safety rails at some time in the past.

Full of luck now, Reggie moseyed over to where Sarah stood. “Should we stay longer, or go elsewhere?”

“Lets find some other old stones. Everyone here looks at me with the same pitying sweetness. They think I’m a cancer patient or something.”

“I like your hair. It feels fuzzy.”

As Reggie ran a cool hand over her prickly stubble of hair, it sent shivers down Sarah’s spine. A week after Broadcast Day, Sarah’s telekinesis and sense of touch were back to normal, or back to abnormal, the way they had been before. But the slight fuzz of hair growing in all over her body bothered Sarah on many levels.

“Let’s find someplace to stay for the night and check our messages.”

“For someone who didn’t want me making calls or checking email more than once a day on this ‘practice honeymoon,’ you’re awfully eager for news.”

“James said he’d contact us when they were talking again. He’s probably fascinated by the whole ordeal anyway. But I keep remembering how I felt when I first arrived there. It’s like vicarious torture.”

“I trust our real honeymoon won’t trigger this?”

“I assure you, your first week without new zoots will be an entirely different experience.”

“Worth saving myself for our wedding night?” Reggie asked in falsetto, batting his eyes.

“The way this week is going, you wouldn’t have much to look forward to otherwise.”

“As you were saying, let’s go find a room.”

“But Reggie,” Sarah pulled back, grounding her hands against the cool stone, “Are you sure we want to do this?”

“What? Wander around Europe without a care in the world?”

“I always thought you needed to work. You can’t look at any situation without getting ideas, wanting to help.”

“And you?”

“I know, but what if we get tired of traveling around. What if we want different things? Right now I have an urge to build a house out of stone. What if one of us wanted something like that and the other couldn’t stand staying put? What if the world never makes it safe for us to have a settled home?”

“What if we both tire of traveling at about the same time and find things we want to do in the same place?”

“But Reggie, life doesn’t always work like that.”

He bent forward and kissed her nose. “Yeah. Sometimes your girlfriend turns out to be a teek who has to flee the country and your business partner turns out to be helping Druids change the world. Nothing’s ever certain, but so far—“

Sarah looked at him and shook her head. “You’re right. Let’s get a room.”

The message from James said, “I’m a mover. I can keep quiet. Everyone’s talking again.”

When Oliver found Sarah back in the household, the first thing he said was, “I have a palm lock, but I can’t make it work. Come out and show me?”

So Sarah and Oliver went to sit on the rocks above the sea. The rough jags of stone felt familiar and homey by now, though the tide was low and the sun seemed too strong. The breeze blew salty and fresh. Oliver had a battery operated palm lock, fresh out of the box, not yet hooked up to anything that needed locking. He’d programmed it with his sister’s palm and brought a print she’d made in ink.

“Well, let’s see if it works,” Sarah said.

She looked at the ink print and placed her hand above the lock, teeking the correct dips and ridges. One click, and the lock identified her as Marian.

Oliver threw back his head and made a small growl in his throat.

“Oh, quit that,” Sarah handed him the lock.

Oliver pouted with his whole face but tried again. It didn’t work.

“How did you learn this?”

“I had my mom buy one, but it mostly worked right away. You can do the trick of wrapping someone up now?”

“Haven’t tested it for zoot destruction yet, but it seems right.”

“Can you write words on your arm?”

“With what?”

Sarah held out her arm and forced up, “Hi, Oliver,” overflowing with excitement that she could do all this again.

His mouth gaped, then he held out his arm and said, “Teach me.”

“Just use your teek like suction—“

“Sarah, Oliver.” They both jumped as James came up behind them. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“No, it’s Teek Tricks 101. Join us.” Sarah slid sideways on their boulder to make room, but James stood staring at Oliver’s arm.

“Easy Oliver, you’ll leave a bruise,” Sarah said, then turned back to James, and wrote a new greeting on her arm. “He’s trying to learn this.”

At that point Oliver managed stripes, then leopard spots, then “Got it!”

James sat down shaking his head. “I’ll never be able to do that.”

“But you can direct your thoughts to a certain person,” Oliver said, pretending to sulk as he had about the palm lock.

“That’s a good trick, but I guess you had a lot of practice,” Sarah said, “Or is it genetic? Maybe whatever made your teek not work with teep, lets you direct thoughts without old zoot mind reading.”

“My mom learned to let out directed thoughts when she wants to, and she’s an animal person,” Oliver continued, mouth still in a slight pout.

              “Maybe if James checked your whole family’s genetics—“

“I’d love to. And if you’d like to study genetics yourselves?”

“Too trendy,” Oliver smiled.

James seemed not to hear as he continued, “I think I’ve already found one teek amplifier that helps at least with new zoots. And Sarah has both factors two and three; so I’m looking for people with both. If one of your parents is an animal person then—“

“Teach me directed telepathy, and I’ll get you samples from my whole family,” Oliver offered.

“Samples might show it’s genetic not learned,” James said.

“Wait,” Sarah held up a hand to silence them, cold growing out from her center, “You didn’t know about factors two and three when you studied my genetics.”

“Actually, they were the bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic correlates I pointed out to you.”

“Oh.” Sarah felt her face warm, and she looked down.

“But there is something I should tell you.”

Sarah waited for what seemed a long time before James spoke again. She saw his hands clench together and whiten in his lap. “When you first asked me to delete your genotype, I did. And when Dr. Yu asked me to type you later, I took the sample mostly to keep others away from it. But the first day we met in my office, when I went to clean the sequencer, I realized there was still usable blood on the slide. I knew—I ran the analysis again and hid the data. It actually turned out to be useful when I started exploring Knockham’s work. I’m sorry. I destroyed the file completely before leaving Thailand.”

In the awkward silence that followed, the lock, on which Oliver had refocused his attention, clicked open. He looked up with a stifled grin.

“You did it!” Sarah smiled with tears in her eyes, tangled in emotions of the moment. More slowly she said to James, “I guess I’m glad you told me. And it’s good you figured out more of this. I hadn’t heard anything about amplifiers.”

“I don’t think Knockham looked for them. He’s more interested in the symbiotes and how the system functions. Now that I’m somewhat accepted by this community, I’m going to see if we can pool some of our research.”

“So you’re going to stay a mover and give up the other telepathy?” Oliver asked with tentative approval.

“I think so, even if I’m not a very good mover.”

“Never know ‘til you try.” Oliver passed James the palm lock and ink print.

“That reminds me,” James said, “I have a letter for you, Sarah.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She tore the flap and read:

Dear Sarah,

I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person. Watching what James has endured to be trusted by these people and how limited his new ability seems, I see no point in experimenting without new zoots. Phil has offered me a position with PAD as I am. Whether I’m a token new teep or it’s truly the start of a new order, that’s where I most belong right now. Good luck with your wedding and your new life. Remember I’ll always be here if you need me.

Love, Howard

             
“Was Howard okay when he left?” Sarah asked. She remembered him standing in the bedroom doorway, leaving flowers, and she wondered if he’d had something to say that was lost in the chaos of that morning.

James shrugged and turned his hands palm up.

              Oliver hesitated and said, “He talked with me out in the pottery shed the day before. The whole silence thing, the other mind readers being able to hear James’s thoughts—I think he felt bad, left out.”

             
“I can sympathize with that,” Sarah said.