The Life of the World to Come (10 page)

Read The Life of the World to Come Online

Authors: Kage Baker

Tags: #Adult, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Fantasy, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat, #Travel

BOOK: The Life of the World to Come
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“Can we play that I’m your little boy really?”
Derek and Lulu had exchanged glances over his head.
“Okay,” said Derek at last, and Lulu coughed. So they played that game for a while, on the outings, and Alec would call them Mummy and Daddy and they’d call him Son. It had seemed as though it would be a great game, having parents who were young and in love, but gradually Alec realized that he was making them uncomfortable, so he let it drop.
He really was doing his very best to be good and happy, but he felt as though he were a beach float with a pinprick hole in it somewhere: you couldn’t see where it was, but bit by bit the air was going out of him, and he was sinking down, and soon he’d be a very flat little boy.
Lewin took a hand and ordered more holoes for Alec, including one of a twelve-part history series called
Legends of the Seven Seas
. It was delivered by parcel courier one day when Lewin was out, and the butler arrived home to find the opened package on the front hall table. Sorting through it, he saw that the only ring missing was the episode about the Golden Age of Piracy. He smiled, realizing that Alec must have run upstairs with it at once.
His smile faded, though, as he examined the chapter summaries on the remaining rings and realized that the series was intended for adults, not children. Irritated, he pulled out his buke and consulted the catalogue from which he’d ordered; not a word about adult content!
When Lewin got to the top of the landing outside Alec’s room, he could hear an unholy commotion coming from within. He opened the door and beheld in midair a bloodstained deck, littered with wounded and dying pirates, though one was still on his feet and fighting like a demon. He was an immense man, with wild hair and beard. Blood poured from a dozen wounds in his body, but he kept battling, advancing with drawn cutlass on a Royal Navy lieutenant. Blood, smoke, sparks striking from steel blades, and musket fire echoing back over the pearl-gray water of Okracoke Inlet … and little Alec taking it all in with wide eyes, and fists clenched tight.
“Here now!” Lewin rushed to the holoplayer, shut it down. The image froze in midair and faded, with a second officer’s sword stopped in the act of slicing toward the pirate’s head.
“No!” Alec jumped to his feet in anguish. “Bring him back! You have to bring him back!”
“That’s not the sort of thing little boys should see,” explained Lewin, pulling the ring from the machine.
“But he was the best pirate ever!” wailed Alec, beginning to cry.
“No, he wasn’t,” said Lewin desperately. “He was a bad man, son, understand?”
“No, he wasn’t, he was brave! They shooted him and he just laughed,” Alec protested.
“No, no, son—”
“Yes he was!” screamed Alec, and ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Now then, Alec, be a good boy and come out,” said Lewin, pulling at the handle. No good; Alec had locked the door, and stood on the other side sobbing in fury.
“Here, I’ll tell you what,” said Lewin, crouching unsteadily. “I’ll tell you a story about a
real
sea hero, shall I? You want to hear about, er, Admiral Nelson? He was the bravest man who ever sailed.”
Silence on the other side of the door for a moment, but for Alec’s gasped breath.
“Was he a pirate?” said Alec at last.
“Well, no, but—but he was a sort of a rogue,” said Lewin, trying to remember the details of a holo he had once seen on the subject of Lady Hamilton. “But nobody minded, because he saved England. See, there was this evil guy named Napoleon, one time. And he wanted to rule all of Europe and, er, make everybody do everything just the same. And he had secret police and all that.”
“What?” Alec asked muffledly.
“You know, telltales that spied on everybody for Napoleon. And England was the only place that was still free. So there was this place called Trafalgar, see, and Napoleon sent all his ships out—and Nelson commanded the English fleet, and blew the bad guys right out of the water.”
“With cannons?”
“Oh, yeah, hundreds of ‘em. Even though he only had one arm and, er, I think his eye was gone, too. He gave ’em in service to his country. He always did his duty, see. And Napoleon’s cowards shot him on the deck of his own ship, so he died, which was dreadful sad, and all the people in England were sorry, but he’d won such a famous victory that Englishmen never ever were slaves. So everybody loved brave Lord Nelson.”
Lewin heard Alec unlocking the door. It was pulled back. The little boy looked up at him, solemn.
“Does he have a museum and we can go talk to him?”
Lewin blinked in puzzlement a moment, and then remembered Shakespeare’s hologram. “Er—no, son, he doesn’t. But there’s a nice museum in Greenwich we can visit next Sunday. Lots of Nelson stuff there.”
So Alec emerged from the bathroom and went down to tea like a good boy. He was still frightened and strangely exhilarated by what he’d seen. Blackbeard and Horatio Nelson had become intermingled in his mind; he dreamed that night of immense bearded unstoppable heroes, blood, smoke, and flame.
One morning at the breakfast table when Lewin had said, in his jolliest old-granddad voice, “And what would you like to do today, Alec?” Alec said:
“Please, can we go down to the river and look at the ships?”
“Of course you can! Want Derek and Lulu to take you?”
“No,” said Alec. “Just you.”
Lewin was very pleased at that, and as soon as breakfast was done they put on their coats and called for the car. In minutes they had been whisked down to the Thames where all the pleasure craft were moored. Their driver switched off the agmotor, the car settled gently to the ground, and Alec and Lewin got out and walked along.
“Oh, now look at that one,” Lewin said. “She’s a beauty, eh? Three masts! Do you know, back in the old days a ship like that would have had to have carried a great big crew just to manage her sails. They’d have slept packed into her hold like dominoes in a box, there had to be that many. And when a storm was coming and the captain wanted to strike sails, you know what he’d have to do? He’d order his sailors to climb up into the rigging and cling there, like monkeys in trees, and reef every one of those sails themselves with their own hands, clinging on as tight as they could whilst they did it! Sometimes men would fall off, but the ships just sailed on.”
“Wow,” said Alec. He’d never seen Reggie or Bob or Cat do much more than load cargo or mix drinks. Suddenly his face brightened with comprehension. “So that’s why the squire has to have all those guys on the
Hispaniola
, even if they’re really pirates!”
Lewin stared a moment before he realized what Alec meant. “
Treasure Island
, right,” he said. “That was why. No robot guidance to do it all. No computer tracking the wind and weather, and deciding when to shorten sail or clap it on. You had to have people doing it. Nobody would let you build ships like this anymore, if that was how they worked.”
“Cool,” said Alec. They walked on, past the rows of pleasure craft where they sat at moorings, and Lewin pointed out this or that kind of rigging or latest luxury feature available to people who could afford such things. He pointed out the sort of ship he’d own himself if he had the money, and pointed out the sort of ship Alec ought to own when he grew up and became the seventh earl of Finsbury.
They walked for what seemed like miles, and Alec began to lag behind; not because he was tired, for he was an extraordinarily strong child with a lot of stamina, but because he was fighting the need to cry.
He had been playing a game inside himself, imagining that the next ship they’d see would be the
Foxy Lady
, and his daddy would be on board, having just dropped anchor for a surprise visit. Of course, he knew his daddy was somewhere in the Caribbean, he knew the
Lady
wouldn’t really be there. But what if she were? And of course she never was, but maybe the next ship would be. Or the next. Or the next.
But Alec wasn’t very good at lying to himself.
“Alec?” Lewin turned around to see where Alec had got to. “What’s wrong?”
He walked close swiftly and saw the tears standing in Alec’s pale blue eyes, and understood at once. “You poor little sod,” he muttered in compassion, and reached for a tissue and held it out to the child. Alec misunderstood his gesture and buried his face in Lewin’s coat, wrapping his arms around him.
“Hell,” Lewin gasped, and looking around wildly he attempted to pry Alec loose. “Alec, let go! For God’s sake, let go! Do you want me to get arrested?”
Alec fell back from him, bewildered.
“Is it against the law to hug in London?” he asked.
“It is against the law for any unlicensed adult to embrace a
child,” Lewin told him soberly. “If there’d been a public health monitor looking our way I’d be in trouble right now.”
“But Sarah used to hug me all the time. And Mrs. Lewin does.”
“Sarah was a professional child care specialist, Alec. She’d passed all sorts of scans and screening to get her license. Same as mummies and daddies have to do, before they’re allowed to have children. And the missus—well, she only hugs you at home, where nobody can see.”
Alec gulped, wiping away tears. He understood now. It must be a law like no booze or bare tits, that you mustn’t be a telltale about. “I’m sorry,” he said shakily. “I didn’t think it would get anybody in trouble.”
“I know, old man.” Lewin crouched down to Alec’s eye level, keeping a good meter between them. “It’s a good law, though, see. You have to understand that it was passed because people used to do terrible, horrible things to little kids, back in the old days.”
“Like the two little boys in the Tower,” said Alec, rubbing his coat sleeve across his eyes.
“Yeah. Sort of.” Lewin glanced downriver in the direction of Tower Marina. He decided that Alec had had quite enough sad memories for the day. Pulling out his communicator, he called for the car to come and take them home.
That night, Lewin sat down at the household console. Thin-lipped with anger, he sent a message to Roger Checkerfield, advising him that it might be a good idea to talk to Alec once in a while. The bright letters shimmered on the screen a moment before vanishing, speeding through the ether to the bridge of the
Foxy Lady
. Lewin sat up all night waiting for a reply, but none ever came.
“Alec?”
Alec turned his face from contemplation of the painting on his wall. It seemed to him that if he could just pay close enough attention to it, long enough, he would be able to go into the picture, hear the steady crash of the sea under the ship’s prow, hear the wind singing in her lines, smell the salt
breeze. He could open the little cabin door and slip inside or, better yet, take the wheel and sail away forever from sad London. Blue water!
But Lewin and Mrs. Lewin looked so hopeful, so pleased with themselves, that he smiled politely and stood up.
“Come see, sweetheart,” said Mrs. Lewin. “Someone’s sent you a present!”
So he took her hand and they went up to the fourth floor of the house, into what was going to be his schoolroom next year. It had been freshly painted and papered. The workmen had built the cabinetry for the big screen and console that would link him to his school, but nothing had been installed yet.
In one corner, though, there was a cozy little Alec-sized table and chair, and on the table was an enormous bright yellow flower, bigger than Alec’s head. It was all folded up, the way flowers are in the early morning, so you couldn’t tell what sort of flower it was. Protruding from the top was a little card with letters inscribed on it: A-L-E-C.
“Now, who d’you suppose that’s from, eh?” wondered Lewin, though in fact he had purchased it for Alec himself, without consulting Roger.
Alec was speechless.
“Think your daddy sent it, eh?” Where was the harm in a kind lie?
“Go on, dear, take the card.” Mrs. Lewin prodded him gently. “It’s for you, after all.”
Alec walked forward and pulled the card loose. There was nothing written on it except his name, but at the moment he took it the flower began to open, slowly, just like a real flower. The big bright petals unfolded and spread out to reveal what had been hidden in its heart.
It looked like a silver egg, or perhaps a very fat little rocket. Its gleaming surface looked so smooth Alec felt compelled to put out his hand and stroke it.
The moment he did so, a pleasant bell tone sounded.
“Good morning,” said an even more pleasant voice. “Pembroke Technologies extends its congratulations to the thoughtful parent who has selected this Pembroke Playfriend for his or her small child. Our Playfriend is designed to encourage creativity and socialization as well as provide hours
of entertainment, but will also stimulate cerebrocortical development during these critical first years of the child’s life. If needed, the Playfriend is also qualified to serve as an individual tutor in all standard educational systems. Customizing for specialized educational systems is available.

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