Continuance (17 page)

“I doubt that,”
she replied. She read the confusion on his face. “Your offer to resign
is…responsible. When I first learned about you, I made up my mind to ask precisely
that. You
are
a liability for us. A big one.” She leaned over her desk, tapping
a key, and another image appeared. “But you’re an asset as well.”

Jason looked at
the new image, an early 3D render of himself, of Patrick. In this one, his hair
was thinner, only a hint of brown interspersed among the gray. Though age had
added lines here and there, his face carried the distinguished look of a man at
the peak of his career. The pocket of his lab coat bore the name of the company
he’d worked for at the time.

“I did some
digging on Patrick Dawes,” she said. “Back in the late ’50s you were a principal
engineer at Hermetica Corporation, a bio-imaging company in LA. You were the
first to apply cold-field harmonics to field imaging techniques at the nano
scale. The same basic concept Chariot is based on.” If Jason hadn’t known
better, he would have described the look she gave him as admiring. “You know
Hermetica’s work was a big part of my decision to build it.” She tilted her
head, studying him. “One might even go as far as to say Chariot wouldn’t exist
without you.”

Jason stared at
the photo – from only few years ago in the continuity of his own reckoning. But
in real time it was over thirty-five years old. Strange that it felt like even
longer than that.

“Chariot is so
much more advanced than anything we worked on,” he said. “Sure, I understand
some of the core principles, but no better than the Wright brothers would have
understood a fighter jet. Besides, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still a
liability here.”

“So am I. I’d
like you to stay on here in the lab.” It was clear she already considered the
matter settled. “You’ve already proven you’re anything but outdated.”

2016

“I love you.”

Michelle said
the words loud enough to be heard over the volume in the room as she gave the
blond-haired little girl a hug. Party music infused an atmosphere of
celebration as guests in tuxedos and formal gowns – friends and family all –
danced, laughed, or just looked on smiling.

Mandy, adorable
in her little white dress and patent leather shoes, looked up from within
Michelle’s encircling arms and gave her a dazzling smile. A smile that never
failed to elicit one in return from her mother.

“Can I hold my
daddy’s arm?” she asked – her term for dancing with a partner.

Glancing across
the room, Michelle located Robert circulating among the guests, smiling as he
alternated handshakes and hugs with people offering their congratulations. Dressed
in a traditional black tux, he was as handsome as she remember – and in his
element.

“Daddy’s busy,
muffin. He’ll dance with you later.”

Seeming
satisfied, Mandy slid down, hugging Michelle’s leg. Then, with a delighted
giggle, she broke free and ran a few steps onto the floor and did her best
imitation of the bigger people around her, pumping her little arms and legs to
the music with abandon.

As she looked
on, Michelle felt a sense of completeness fall into place. Everything was going
to be okay.

“She’s really
having fun, isn’t she? I think she’s pop star material.” Tory, looking like a
magazine cover in her sapphire bridesmaid’s dress, wore a mirthful smile as she
came to stand beside her older sister.

“I’m glad
someone’s recording all this.” Michelle glanced at the videographer as his
camera followed Mandy across the floor. “Who knew a two-year-old could dance
like that? So unlike her mother.”

“I bet she’d
love to dance with you anyway. You should go out there.”

Michelle had
never been one for dancing and was content to simply watch and take it all in. “I’ve
already pressed my luck in this dress tonight. You go. I bet she’d love dancing
with her favorite aunt even more.”

Tory gave her a
skeptical look. “Okay, you stay here looking dignified while I go boogie with
your daughter.” She poked Michelle in the shoulder and winked. “Your loss,
though.” Then she stepped onto the dance floor across from little Mandy,
leaning down to hold hands – arms – with her as they laughed and moved to the
beat of Sister Sledge.

Across the room,
a table full of guests erupted in laughter at something Robert said before he
moved on to the next. In that moment, as she watched him from a distance, Michelle
felt a warm love for him – a love she had never hoped to find. With Evan out of
the picture, she’d found herself suddenly facing the world on her own as a
single mother. With a child in tow, she had limited options and even more
limited romantic prospects. After two years, just when she’d resigned herself
to the idea she might never find someone, Robert had come along. He’d offered a
way out.

As the last
refrains of “We Are Family” began to repeat and fade, the next song swelled to
replace it. Tory and Mandy didn’t miss a beat, twirling across the floor without
a care as the guests around them continued the celebration.

Michelle watched
the moment unfold around her, content.

2027

“I’m heading out,” Rob’s voice
called from the stairs.

Michelle paused the playback as
he came into the living room, freezing Mandy’s image on the TV, arms a blur,
head thrown back in delight.

Rob glanced at the screen as he
grabbed his keys from the end table by the couch. For a moment, the screen
seemed to capture his attention, and Michelle seized the chance to study him. Gray
competed with brown for dominance in his hair now, and small lines had crept into
the hollows beneath his eyes. Overall, an older, slightly harder version of the
man from the video.

“Why are you watching our old
wedding movies?” he asked.

“I was just converting them to
the new format. Pretty soon we won’t have anything to play them back on
anymore. They’re twelve years old.”

“Oh. Good idea. You don’t have to
watch them while you do that, do you?”

With an effort, she suppressed a
sigh. Did she really have to explain? “No, but why not? You should see this,
Rob. Mandy’s so little, and you look so young. Hell, even
I
look young.”

“Some other time, Chelle.” His
head swiveled back and forth, eyes gliding past her as he searched the room.

“You know Mandy wanted to dance
with you that day. She called it ‘holding your arm.’ You were so busy with the
guests I don’t think you ever had a chance. Seems like it’s becoming a habit.” Robert
was supposed to take Mandy to a father/daughter banquet at the school next
week, but had just found out he had to go out of town on business.

“I’m surprised anybody can catch
a breath at their own wedding,” he said. “And you know I can’t just cancel a
business trip for every little thing. Have you seen my wallet? The game started
five minutes ago. The guys are already waiting.”

“On the bar. When will you be
back?” She couldn’t say why she’d asked, since she already knew the response.
Following protocol, perhaps? The same old, tired script?

“I don’t know.”
Don’t try to
pin me down
, his tone said. “Late.”
Don’t wait up for me.

The door closed behind him,
sealing the room in silence. Michelle looked around the empty living room, at
the image frozen on the TV, the joy on Mandy’s face a dissonant counterpoint to
the emptiness around her. With a sigh, she turned off the media center, deciding
to finish the video conversion some other time.

“Looks like another thrilling
night” she told the reflection of herself on the dark screen. As with Rob, time
and parenthood had left their collective signature on her as well. But despite
how she joked about her age, she liked to believe she’d held up fairly well,
considering. Only a few strands of gray mingled with her brown hair – chin-length,
rather than shoulder-length now. She could spot the tiny lines around her eyes
and the handful of pounds stashed here and there because she knew where to look,
but it was nothing the right clothes and makeup couldn’t transform to recreate
a fair approximation of the woman from the video.

Why, then, did she feel so much
older?
Because
for me, time has left its mark on the inside.

Images of the wedding came back
to her. Things had seemed so promising then. So much better. Even when she’d
had to sacrifice her dreams of a career to take care of Mandy, she’d
compensated by pouring herself into building a family, being a good mother. Not
that she regretted Mandy. Never that. She felt closer to her than anyone – in some
ways even defined by her. But at fourteen, Mandy would be gone soon, and the
horizon ahead without her sometimes seemed…unsettling. How would she and Rob
hold together without her? Did she even want them to? And without Rob…what?
Start all over again?

Unbidden, her mind ticked through
the litany of what-ifs that came calling more often of late, with a bitter
familiarity. She’d met Evan, a grad student in New York, not long after things
ended with Patrick. What if Evan had followed through on his promise to be a
father to Mandy? If he hadn’t left almost as soon as the words were out of his
mouth? What if she’d never gotten involved with him to begin with? Would she
have had the courage to make amends with Patrick? Would he have allowed it? What
if she’d been strong enough to stay with him in the first place, to be honest
with him?

Frustrated with herself, she
pushed the thoughts from her mind before they could spiral out of control.
Dwelling on the past accomplished nothing. She should be happy with what she
had with Rob. Things could have been worse.

Pulling herself together, she looked
at the clock. Mandy had gone to the UCE library to meet a couple of classmates
to work on a project. Not long ago, when Mandy had been in grade school, the
libraries had almost died out, almost become extinct like slide rules and
chalkboards had before them. Kids did most of their research at home over the
web, checking out eBooks from virtual libraries, meeting in virtual spaces
online. They still did more often than not, but with the advent of virtual
reality centers – too big and expensive for homes – things had come full circle.
Kids went to library to do research again. She could imagine her daughter and
her friends in one of the VR workspaces, surrounded by floating text and 3D media
files, exploring and synthesizing a myriad of sources into a finished project
like a collective work of art.

Michelle wasn’t supposed to pick her
up for another forty-five minutes, but she grabbed her keys and hopped in her
Nissan anyway. It was only a ten-minute drive, so she could have left later,
but this would be a welcome escape from an empty house. As she pulled into the
campus lot nearest the library, her phone rang. It was Mandy.

“Hey, honey,” Michelle said.

“Hi, Mom.” Michelle still
marveled at how grown-up she sounded now. “Listen, we need some extra time to
finish up. Would it be okay if you picked me up at eight instead of seven? I
wanted to call you before you left.”

Michelle smiled. Sometimes she was
convinced she had the most considerate, intelligent fourteen-year-old in the
world. Mandy could always be counted on to keep her in the loop and check in at
the right times.

“No problem, muffin. Thanks for
calling. See you at eight?”

“See you, Mom. Thanks.”

Michelle gazed at the campus
around her, debating what to do with the extra time. Going back home was out of
the question. Window shopping then? A bookshop? She was about to start the car
and mull it over on the road, but paused with her finger over the ignition
button. Looking out over the familiar buildings and walks, she found herself
unfastening her seatbelt, stepping out of the car. The early evening was nice,
and a walk while she waited seemed suddenly enticing.

She set off aimlessly, wandering
down a winding path leading from the library toward the heart of the campus.
She’d been back at UCE only a handful of times since she’d been a student, and
things had changed some in the intervening years. Noting building and landmarks
as she passed, both familiar and new, she meandered the landscaped grounds with
no particular purpose but to enjoy the peace of the moment and decompress a
little.

Late as it was, few people were
out, just a handful of students or an occasional faculty member here and there.
When she heard the trickling water of a fountain and saw dark flagstones
beneath her feet, she realized she’d angled toward the science buildings. She’d
never seen the massive curving ribbon of glass beyond the courtyard fountain,
but she knew it – from conversations with Patrick long ago. This was the new
science complex he’d been so excited about. If nothing else, it was a beautiful
structure. She took a seat beside the fountain to watch the rich hues of evening
play along the building’s mirrored windows.

On a whim, she pulled a handful
of coins from her pocket, amusing herself tossing pennies and nickels in with
tiny plops. Though it wasn’t warm out, for some reason the clear pool of water
looked cool and inviting.
I suppose I should be making wishes with these.
There were plenty she could have made, but to what end?
If wishes were
horses, beggars would ride.