Текст книги "Accidental Creatures"

Автор книги: Anne Harris

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Chango shrugged, "There were complications." She handed him the swiper containing the codes she’d scanned the day before.

Hyper’s dark brown eyes widened, "Complications? But you weren't arrested."

"No, not those kinds of complications. At least not yet. I scanned this woman, I thought she was armed," Chango laughed weakly. "When I tried to give her back her card, she bolted. I followed her, and she got jumped in an alley. Turns out she's a sport. She was hurt pretty bad, so I took her to Mavi's."

"You got pretty involved with a failed mark, didn't you?" Hyper said softly, his gaze upon the circuit map only he could see.

"Hyper, she was really hurt. One of her assailants had a knife. What was I supposed to do, leave her to die?"

"Why did you follow her in the first place?"

Chango shrugged, searching for an answer. "When I bumped her, and then tried to give her card back, she freaked. She ran, scared! I was... curious."

"You said she was packin'. She shoot any of those guys?"

"No she wasn't. I thought she had a shotgun, but it wasn't – it was one of her arms. She's got four." Hyper whistled, "Functional?"

"Yeah! Fully developed, fully functional."

"Wow, impressive."

"See? I couldn't let the sister die."

"Yeah, I guess I can see that. You give her card back, then, or what?"

"No, I didn't," Chango reached into her pocket and pulled out the plastic square. "But get this," she handed it to Hyper, "it isn’t even a cash card. It’s data." Hyper glanced at it. "What's its encryption signature?"

"I don't know, It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before."

"Hmm." He flipped it between his fingers thoughtfully and held it up to the light. A faint pattern glimmered on its surface, and then, as he tilted it just right, bloomed into a hologram. Spiraling curves of burning, electric green wrapping around one another, just discernible as an S enfolded within a stylized G. GeneSys.

Hyper glanced at her, one eyebrow cocked. “Mind if I keep this and look at it later, when I’m done with Robo-Mime?” he asked.

“I don’t know, what if she wants it back?”

“Then I’ll give it back.”

Chango shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

oOo

Chango nudged Mavi’s screen door open with one toe and slid through, dumping the hemp fiber grocery bags on the kitchen table.

Mavi was at the stove, whispering over a simmering saucepan. The roiling steam perfumed the kitchen with sage and goldenseal. Her words faded, and she looked over to see Chango. “You bought groceries.”

“Yep.” Chango reached inside one of the sacks and drew out a package of spaghetti. “‘Pasta a la me’,”

she said with a flourish of the box. She drew out three eggs and juggled them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, she cooks, she climbs, she produces groceries out of thin air, she’s Changini the miraculous.” Mavi pawed through the bags, “how did you get all this stuff?”

Chango took a bowl down from the shelf over the sink and cracked the eggs into it. “Through the idleness of fools.”

“So that’s what you were doing in Greektown last night,” said Mavi returning to her mixture on the stove.

“What else?”

“Oh, I don’t know, show girls, maybe?”

Chango snorted, stirring the eggs with a fork. “What would give you that idea?”

“Your friend.”

She laughed, “Oh no. No. A dancing girl afraid to show her body? I think not. Mavi, you’ve got to get out more.”

“Then how did you happen upon her?”

Chango shrugged uncomfortably and began beating the eggs with a fork. “Actually, I’d been following her.”

“Following her? But she’s not a show girl.”

“Would you stop? Jeez, I can’t perform an act of good samaritanism without you trying to turn it into some tawdry little scenario.”

“I know you, Chango. Why were you following her?”

“When I tapped her for her cash card, she freaked out and ran. I was curious. There was something about the way she looked. She was terrified. Now I know why. She told me she hasn’t let anyone but her father see what she is for the past ten years.”

“Oh my goddess, that's... that’s weird.”

“Yeah. If she goes out, she wears the raincoat. I guess I brushed against her arm when I tapped her, she felt it. She thought I knew.”

“Does she know you followed her?”

“No, apparently not.”

“Then I take it you haven’t returned her cash card,” said Mavi, pouring her tincture into a jar.

“Well, that’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?” Chango put the dripping fork in the sink. “‘Oh yes, I’m glad I could help you, and by the way, here’s something I stole from you.’ No, besides, it isn’t a cash card. It’s data, from GeneSys.”

Amber tinted liquid spilled on the stove. Mavi set the pan down and looked at her. “GeneSys?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s hers.”

oOo

That night Chango brought her spaghetti in bed. Helix sat up, bolstered by pillows. She kept her lower hands under the afghan, balancing her plate in them and wielding a spoon and fork in her upper hands. Chango sat cross-legged at the other end of the bed, holding her plate in her lap.

“So, do you live here?” asked Helix around a mouthful of food.

“Not really,” Chango shrugged. “Sort of. I stay here a lot, and sometimes I sleep in my car, or at another friend’s house.”

“Oh,” Helix nodded, trying to think of something else to say. “So how did you find me?” she asked. Chango stopped chewing and stared at her. “I followed you.”

“Followed me?”

“Yeah, you’re going to find out about it soon enough anyway. No one around here can keep their mouth shut. I followed you from the casino because I’d been-I’d been trying to scan you.”

“Scan me?”

“Yeah, you know, rip off the code for your cash card. Brokers pay good money for those codes.”

“Oh. But I don’t have a cash card.”

“Yeah, I know now, but I didn’t then. When I tried to flush you for your uh, wallet, I brushed one of your arms, one of the lower ones, remember?”

Helix remembered going inside the casino to get out of the rain, and then being overwhelmed by the crowd. She remembered the touch against her arm that had frightened her, and then that sharp little face, saying something to her as she fled.

“It was you,” she said. “You’re the one who touched me.”

“Yeah, and you freaked out. It made me curious, so I followed you.” Chango was watching her anxiously, as if she feared her reaction to this news.

“So I owe my life to the fact that you tried to rip me off, huh?” Helix smiled. “Thanks.”

Chango laughed with relief. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”

Helix shrugged. “It’s not like you knew me or anything.”

Chango pursed her lips. “Do you play cards?”

“What?”

“This kind.” Chango brandished a deck of playing cards. “Gin, hearts, poker? No?”

Helix shook her head.

“Then you’re going to have to learn. You can’t be laid up in bed for days on end without at least learning gin rummy.”

About halfway through their third hand, Helix brought her lower hands out from under the afghan and started holding her cards in them.

It felt like something that was wrapped very tightly around her heart was starting to unwind. She couldn’t help it, she kept staring at Chango’s eyes, one blue, one green. They were the visible proof. She wasn’t alone.

She liked Hector, she’d been grateful to him, but she’d never felt this comfortable with him. There’d always been some unbreachable distance between them. Each knew the other was different, and somehow she’d always felt he was watching her from the other side of a polyglass window. Chango discarded the eight of clubs. Helix picked it up with her upper right hand, and lay down the rest of the set with her upper left. She looked to see Chango looking, and their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.

“You’ve got five hands,” said Chango. Helix looked down at the cards she held and laughed, which made her wince.

Chango stepped out into the cool night air, her ancient jean jacket clammy against the gooseflesh on her arms. Helix had gone to sleep, and she was restless. She left the Chevy where it was, parked by the curb in front of the house, and walked to Josa’s.

Hyper and Magoo and Pele were hanging around outside the bar. “Hey, what’s going on?” she said, joining them.

“Not much,” said Hyper, “same old, same old.”

“Hey, I heard you’ve got a houseguest over at Mavi’s,” said Pele.

“Yeah,” Chango glared at Hyper, who shot Pele a look.

“She’s got four arms,” continued Pele, oblivious or more likely, unconcerned. “Is she cute?”

“Yeah,” Chango admitted, “she’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t pure altruism, eh?” said Magoo.

“I saw her, she needed help, I helped. Why is everyone trying to twist this around into some sort of bizarre pickup scenario?” she protested.

“Well, you did follow her,” said Hyper.

“Oh, oh thanks a lot, buddy.”

“You followed her?” said Magoo. “I didn’t know that. It doesn’t look good for you, Chango.”

“Screw you, pink boy.”

“Not lately,” he said loftily.

“Oh, girl,” Pele told him.

“Anyway, you guys have to meet her. You know, she’s never met any other sports before.”

“Really?” said Pele.

“Well, think about it, she was in this orphanage, where she was the only sport there, and then she got adopted,” she looked at Hyper, “by this guy that works for GeneSys. She hasn’t been out of the Fisher Building for ten years.”

“Ouch, maybe getting knifed in an alley was a good thing for her,” said Magoo.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but at least now she’ll get to know some of her own people.”

It was only ten, but Josa’s was already crowded with divers off shift for their weekend. The four of them snaked their way through the crowd to the bar. It was still Josa back there, pouring and polishing as she had for the past twenty years.

Chango leaned over the bar with a mylar bill rolled up in her hand. “Josa, a round for me and my friends here, draft.”

Josa cast one jaundiced eye in her direction, took the bill and grunted when she unrolled it. “Four drafts,”

she said briskly, and went off to pour them.

“Oh look,” said Pele, “There’s Monkey with Oli, I heard he took Jan’s mother’s china with him when he left.”

“Yeah but that was after Jan threw his couch out of the window of their third floor apartment.”

Hyper laughed, “Coral told me she saw it go down. Jan had been screaming all morning about throwing that couch out of the window, so by the time it finally happened, there was a little crowd outside, waiting. Can you imagine? That lime green velour atrocity tumbling through the air and then splat, like a huge upholstered bug.”

“That’s entertainment,” said Magoo.

Chango spotted a lean figure with short dark hair and sideburns come in the door. “Hey, Benny!” she shouted, waving him over.

“Hey, what’s going on?” said Benny slapping her on the shoulder, “I heard you have a houseguest,” he said.

“She’s from GeneSys,” offered Pele.

His eyebrows went up, “GeneSys?”

“She is not, Pele,” said Chango, and then to Benny, “she’s not.”

“Well you said her father worked for them,” Pele noted.

“That’s not the same thing is it? Besides, I was speculating.” She looked at Benny again, “She’s a sport.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I heard.”

“What did you do, Hyper,” Chango turned on him, “broadcast it?”

“No,” he protested, “I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I mean, what’s the big deal?” said Pele.

“I guess,” she said warily, “It’s just that she’s understandably timid around people, Benny, and when she finally comes out of Mavi’s house, I don’t want people staring and talking about her.”

“C’mon, Chango,” Benny said, “This is Vattown, everyone stares, and everyone talks about everyone else.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that.”

“Then she’ll have a chance to find out.”

“C’mon Benny, at least let her get her bearings. Be cool when I bring her around. No sport jokes, okay?

And see if you can’t get Vonda and Coral to be a little less their usual selves.”

“Oh, you don’t ask for much.”

“You know you can influence them, if you want to.”

Benny raked his hands through his thick hair. “But at what cost?” he cried, looking beseachingly at the ceiling.

“Benny,” a young woman with straight brown hair falling to her shoulders walked up to him. Her eyes darted over to Chango for an instant, and then flickered away with a dismissive toss of her head.

“Orielle’s coming later tonight, want to go in on a liter?”

“Sure, Vonda,” he said, “Mind if I pay you Monday?”

“Yeah, I can cover it until then. Hey, did you see next month’s production run? They had it posted this afternoon. They must be crazy if they think we’re gonna get all that fiber grown with just the people we have now.”

“Overtime,” said Benny.

Vonda made a face, “How much overtime do they expect us to work?”

“Hey, it’s time and a half.”

“Yeah, it’s also prolonged exposure.” During the course of the conversation, she had slowly turned so that her back was to Chango, who still sat there, staring at her. “Hey, there’s Val, c’mon, he’ll buy us drafts,” she took Benny by the arm and they drifted away. Chango watched them disappear into the crowd and then she turned around, resting her elbows on the bar.

“Shit,” said Hyper, “I can’t believe you guys still aren’t talking, after all this time.”

“What do we have to talk about?” asked Chango, and she drank her beer.

“You used to be best friends.”

“Yeah, well, things change, don’t they?”

“You don’t still seriously believe she falsified Ada’s tests, do you?”

Chango shrugged and shook her head, “Not really. I don’t know. I know Ada didn’t dive blasted, that’s all.” She drank her glass empty, set it back down on the bar, and left. oOo

For three days Helix sat in “the pink room”, as Mavi and Chango called it. She would have been bored out of her mind if it weren’t for Chango, who remained at her bedside most of the time, playing cards with her and regaling her with stories of the comings and goings of Vattown.

“I saw Hugo today,” Chango said, shuffling the cards. “He lives with Benny, an old friend of my sister’s. She and Benny and Hugo were in a dive team together years ago. Now Hugo has vatsickness. He’s been off work for months. Benny and Hugo are lovers, or at least they were. I don’t think Hugo is up for much but lying in bed nowadays. Mavi sent me over there with some morphine for him. That’s about all he consumes now, morphine and water, maybe a little soup. But today he was having a good day. He was sitting up, and we watched soap operas on the holonet, the interactive ones. I asked him if he’d like to play a character, but he just wanted to watch.”

Helix looked up at the mention of soaps. “Did you see ‘We Are the World?’”

Chango wrinkled her brow. “Is that the one where the two power bitches are fighting it out over this woman whose husband died?”

“That’s it. My character – I mean Natasha, that’s the one I like to play – she’s going on trial for murdering the husband. Did you see her? What happened? Have they set the date for the trial yet?”

Chango shook her head. “Wow, you’re really a freak for that show, aren’t you? We only caught the end of it. Something about a couple stranded on an island in the South Pacific.”

“Carmen and Peter. They’re boring.”

Hugo likes Tears of Joy.”

Helix made a face.

“Hey, I think they’re all stupid. I mean they may have all those fancy settings and stuff, but as far as pure drama goes, they can’t hold a candle to what goes on around here. Why just last week Coral found out that her boyfriend Val was sleeping with her best friend Yolanda. She caught them at it when she went to Yolanda’s house to drop off some blast for her. She was mad at first – she kept the blast – but now they’re thinking of making it a threesome.”

Helix raised her eyebrows. “I guess you have a point.”

“You bet. Don’t worry, pretty soon Mavi will let you out of bed, and you can meet some of these people. It must be really boring for you, stuck in here all day and night.”

“Yes.” Helix admitted. “But maybe its just as well. I’m not sure I want to meet anyone.”

“Oh come on. You can’t stay in here forever.”

That was true. She hadn’t really thought about what would happen when Mavi let her out of here. She thought of Night Hag, who had said almost the same thing to her the day she left Hector’s. “Do you think you could borrow a transceiver from somebody? I have a friend on the holonet. I’d like to contact her.”

“Oh,” Chango said, surprised. “Well, the only people I know who have a transceiver are Benny and Hyper. Benny would lend you his, but Hugo uses it, and I wouldn’t want to ask. Hyper... well he uses his constantly, but I’ll make a strong case for you. Maybe if it’s just for an hour or so.”

“She always takes my calls. It wouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll try.”

oOo

The following afternoon, Chango came into the pink room with a self-satisfied smile and something hidden behind her back. “Catch,” she said, tossing a headset transceiver at her. It landed on the bed, and Helix picked it up. “Thanks. Did you have trouble getting it?”

“No, but he made me promise that when you get out of bed, he’d be the first person to meet you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll like Hyper. He’s a sport, like us, and he makes a lot of cool things.” Chango handed her the wrist keypad that went with the headset and stood with her arms at her sides, seemingly at a loss. “I guess I’d better leave you alone, so you can call your friend.”

“Thanks.”

“I promised Hyper I’d have it back to him tonight.”

“That’s okay.”

Chango left, and Helix placed the transceiver on her head, pulled the imaging lens down over her right eye and dialed Night Hag’s number.

“Helix! Where have you been? You haven’t been answering my messages,” said Night Hag, still using the construct she’d had the last time they talked. Hyper had the transceiver set to visuals, and in her haste, Helix had forgotten to check it. She was sitting up in bed, and had made no attempt to cover up her arms. It was just as well, she thought, she was going to have to start letting people see her. But Night Hag didn’t pay much mind to her appearance. Instead she peered at the peeling walls behind her. “Where are you?”

“That’s why I called. After the last time we talked, I left Hector’s apartment. I’m in Vattown now.”

“Where they make the biopoly. Good. That’s good. Have you found a job yet?”

“Not yet. I – I ran into some trouble. Some men tried to rob me. There was a fight. I got injured.”

Suddenly Night Hag’s eyes focused on her. “Are you alright? How badly were you hurt?”

“I’m okay, still pretty sore, but okay. I had a concussion, some cracked ribs, and a knife wound.”

“Who did that to you?” she asked sharply, as if she would kill whoever it was, as if she could.

“I don’t know. Just some guys, I guess.”

Night Hag stared at her. “You don’t know them?”

“No! I was just walking and...”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re alright now.”

“Yes. I-someone found me. Her name is Chango. She’s a sport like me. she saved my life. She brought me here to her friend’s house. They’re taking care of me.”

“That’s good.” She paused, and then added, “Those men that attacked you? Did you fight them?”

“Oh yeah. There were three of them, but one I bit pretty bad, in the neck,” she said, and pointed at her teeth, still surprised that Night Hag had made no mention of her appearance.

“I’m glad,” said her friend. “People shouldn’t want to hurt you. But for some reason, sometimes they do. When it happens, you must fight them.”

Helix didn’t know what to say to this. “At least I’m with friends now,” she said at length.

“And I’m proud of you for leaving Hector. It couldn’t have been easy for you. Just don’t think that because you were attacked, you made a mistake. There was nothing for you in that apartment.”

“Except my transceiver, and Hector’s money. I didn’t take anything with me when I left.”

Night Hag waved one hand dismissively. “Things. Things you can buy after you find work. Are you going to be a vatdiver?”

“I don’t know,” Helix shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I’m going to need some kind of job.”

“Maybe your friends can help you.”

“Maybe. But jobs are hard to find, and they’ve already done a lot. Chango borrowed this transceiver from a friend of hers, so I could call you.”

“Everybody doesn’t have a transceiver?” Night Hag looked genuinely shocked. Helix laughed at her naivety. She had always been the wise one, the experienced one. “No. Everyone does not have a transceiver.”

Chapter 5 – Wronged By God

Nathan Graham walked to the elevators, suncells in fan-shaped wall sconces brightening at his approach, signalled by his tread on the bioweave carpeting. It had taken research and development years to come up with a bacteria that would put forth a spectrum of light even approaching sunshine. These were the latest achievement, and their bright warm light was gradually spreading through the consumer market, edging out incandescent and fluorescent bulbs.

The elevator doors were covered in etched brass, a holdover from the original decor. Much of the building had been remodeled repeatedly in order to showcase the latest developments in GeneSys materials, but they saved these – oriental etchings of birds and flowers intermixed with geometric designs – and the murals on the first floor.

The doors parted and he stepped inside. “Good morning, Mr. Graham,” said the elevator, and Graham rode it down to the tenth floor. In the lobby of the research and development department he asked a vending machine for an apple juice and swiped his card through the pay slot. He downed the juice in one long gulp, and tossed the little can into the welcoming mouth of a motion sensitive trash canister. Martin’s lab was a large, white tiled affair, strewn with instruments. Martin and his two remaining lab assistants were there; Slatermeyer, a tall, anemic-looking fellow with sandy, badly cut hair, and Greenfield, shorter and stockier, his dark hair receding at his temples. They looked at him like a trio of startled rabbits.

Graham walked along the counter-lined perimeter of the room, glancing at this instrument and that. Everything was gleamingly spotless. Graham had no doubt that Martin had spent the better part of the week preparing for this visit. He had probably also rid the lab of anything he really wanted to see.

“The biopolymer being produced in test vats shows some remarkable properties,” said Martin. "Look at these electron holomicrographs." He walked to the holomicroscope. In its viewing platform rested a shallow pan containing a vibrant blue strip of biopoly. He fiddled with the dials of the scope until a three-dimensional holographic schema of the biopoly’s cellular matrix appeared in the air; vivid green, yellow and blue shapes representing mitochondria, endoplasmic reticulum and secretory granules.

“It’s an aromatic amino acid with a fullerian side group – a bucky ball with trapped silver ions,” said Martin enthusiastically. “It’s extremely versatile and has a high rate of synthesis.”

“What?”

“It grows fast,” said Slatermeyer.

Was that all? Graham rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“And that’s not all,” interjected Greenfield, “Because of the trapped silver ions, it conducts electricity very efficiently, making it quite suitable for a range of applications where other biopolys have been ruled out.”

Hector walked over to the biostat cabinet and took out a tray. “Here, feel it,” he lifted out a handful of the stuff and held it out to him.

Gingerly, reluctantly, Graham took the stuff in his hands. It was faintly warm, smelled yeasty and felt smooth, but what struck him most about the stuff was its color. A bright, deep blue that almost seemed to glow. It had a power of its own, that color. It was the color blood would be, if blood were blue, and there was something at once beautiful and repellant about it.

Graham handed it back to Hector. “Well,” he said, clapping his hands together, “what say you show me the vats where this miracle material is being produced.”

Hector glanced at his two assistants, and then back to Graham. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Impossible? Nonsense, I want to see the vats now. All this lab business is very well, but you must admit, it’s a bit off goal for the project. Remember the project? It wasn’t to make new biopolys. It was to cut labor costs. Now take me to those vats.”

“We can’t,” said Hector. “We’re in the middle of an isolation study. Any interference now would put the project back months.”

“An isolation study? What for?”

“To determine the long range impact on productivity.”

Graham gritted his teeth. “When will the test be finished?” he asked. Martin hesitated. Graham could see him thinking it through before he answered, “By the end of the month.”

“The end of the month. And you’re absolutely sure it’s necessary.”

“Oh yes, if we’re going to provide you with any figures at all concerning long term production levels.”

Graham nodded. That was exactly the data Martin’s report had lacked. He didn’t trust him, didn’t believe him, but to interfere directly with Martin’s research at this stage would only antagonize him. He didn’t want Martin going to Anna, telling her that he, Nathan Graham, wouldn’t let him do his job. Especially since he had worked so hard to rid himself of his reputation as a heavy operator, a legacy from his production days.

“Very well Dr. Martin.” Graham glanced at his watch. “I’d like to discuss the project with you in further detail, but I have a dinner appointment at the club this evening. Perhaps we can do lunch, tomorrow?”

Intense and prolonged attention might cause Martin to disclose whatever it was he was hiding, just to get Graham off his back.

“Lunch? Um, sure.”

oOo

Hector threw himself into the back of his maglev and sank into the soft, butter colored vathide cushions which ringed the ovoid riding parlor. He activated the navigation system, and it showed him a holographic list of frequent destinations. He closed the list and called up an area map, keying in the route to his sister’s house by hand. The levcar emerged from the parking garage and took a left onto Grand River, heading east towards the I-88 levway. He dialed the stereo for Vivaldi and set the retinal glass of the cabin’s windows to transparent.

The traffic was heavy but well-behaved. Levcars wove amongst each other seamlessly, guided by the surface of the road. Despite the beauty of the day, the tranquil music and the lush stands of trees gliding by on the banks of the levway, Hector could not relax. Graham’s visit to the lab that morning had left him deeply uneasy. Graham had accepted the excuse about the isolation study, for the moment, but sooner or later he would uncover the truth about the project, and Hector couldn’t even bring himself to think about what would happen then.

He had tried calling Lilith, but as usual she would not take his call. Lilith – she was named for the first woman, the one God made along with Adam, before Eve. Created equal to Adam, she demanded equal treatment, and became a demon in the eyes of the religion Hector was born into. A religion he turned to now, despite its faults, for the reassurance of the familiar rituals of the Sabbath. Bloomfield Hills was a forest of oaks and demi-elms, riddled with small maglev lanes that wove like twisting streams around the ample yards of the houses. Many of the homes here were in the late eco style, barely discernable from the hills and fields surrounding them. His sister’s place was one of these, three-quarters underground and surrounded by terraced gardens.

The driveway cut into the hillside. The maglev parked itself and Hector reached into his suit pocket and took out his yarmulke. It had been given to him by his father at his bar mitzvah. The once-sumptuous blue velvet had faded and taken on a silvery sheen, much like his hair, but the feel of the worn fabric as he slipped it over his bald spot recalled to him the awkwardness of puberty and his nervousness at standing before his family’s congregation to read from the Torah.

Setting the memory aside, Hector got out of the maglev and climbed the flagstone steps to the doorway of his sister’s house. Recessed in an alcove and overshadowed by the low hanging roof, the entrance was virtually invisible from the road. He raised his hand to the knockpad but the door opened before he could strike it.

“Hector, gebubulah!” His sister Cerise greeted him with outstretched arms. Hector paused on the threshold to kiss the mezuzah, and entered her welcoming embrace. “Come in, come in,” she said, drawing him down the hallway. “I’m so glad you could break away from your busy schedule to visit us.”

The roof over the living room was dotted with colored glass tiles which painted the floor and walls with a kaleidoscope of light. Cerise’s husband, Paul, was there, and their children, Rachel and Naomi. Cerise brought a tray of vegetables and walnut dip from the kitchen and set it down on the coffee table. “So, Hector,” she said, “What’s new with you?”

“Oh nothing much,” he lied, “working hard, as usual.”

Cerise shook her head. “Working, that’s all? There aren’t any nice middle aged ladies at GeneSys to go to the movies with, or take out to dinner?”

Hector shrugged, “I suppose there are, but-”

“But what? What does a woman have to do to get your attention? Split an atom?”

“Cerise-” Paul gave her a warning glance. “And she wonders why you hardly ever visit,” he said to Hector. “Would you like a whiskey?”

“Thanks, with soda, please,” he said.

The girls showed him the holo pictures they’d been painting, and Cerise told him of the latest happenings at her job at Detroit Edison. “There’s a very nice woman in the finance department. She’s about your age, Hector, and she’s single too. Her name is Ilene, and she’s always reading Scientific American. I’m sure you two would hit it off. If you’d like me to set something up...”

“Cerise,” Paul lifted his eyes to the kaleidoscope ceiling, which was growing dim in the fading light. Cerise smiled, “It’s time to light the candles.”

They went into the dining room, where the sabbath candles stood waiting on the side board beside the wine, the kaddish cups, and the challah bread. Cerise lit the candles, covered her eyes, and recited the blessing. “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohanu Melech ha’olam asher kidshanu bemitzvotoav vetzivanu lehedlikner shel Shabbat.”