It was a vortex. Innocent, and light, but hypnotic. The kiss lasted for perhaps twenty seconds; then she pulled back, and there was something in her eyes that he had never seen in them before. Yearning, perhaps. And sadness. She leaned forward and kissed him back, softly, and then more urgently.
The heat was just beginning to grow when she placed her hands, her palms flat against his chest; and pushed him firmly away.
She laughed, and stood, tossed her hair, and ran into the woods.
It was a challenge as old as time, as old as the man-woman thing that drove all human life. It wasn't a race. It was the race. And the grand prize was...
He jumped off his seat and ran, laughing, into the woods, the tangled, knotted vine-hung woods that grew here on the far side of the mountains, and he saw that he could catch her. There were three reasons—one, he was a little faster, except over long distances. Second, she had to break the trail. All he had to do was follow.
Third, and most importantly—she wanted him to win.
He lost sight of her for a moment and—
There she was, just ahead of him. She turned her head around to see him, gave a little squeak, and...
Collided with a spider devil nest.
Chapter 33
LOVE AND FEAR
Death, in itself, is nothing; but we fear
To be we know not what, we know not where.
JOHN DRYDEN, Aureng-Zebe
They had crossed the ridge and were back in the forest. Sylvia stepped out to pass Cadmann, who was taking a little extra time to study the trees and the paths. She watched Aaron carefully. He was so tall, so well formed. His muscles slid smoothly under his tanned skin, and he moved with such confidence. Almost like some kind of machine, and her heart went out to him. She had never been a mother to him, had never offered him any of the comforts that might have made his life easier. And she yearned to do something... anything... to bridge the chasm between them.
"So... you come up here often?" she asked lamely, surprised that she was able to get that much out between labored breaths.
He smiled down at her. "I try to get up into the hills as often as possible," he said. "It gives me a chance to feel in synch with the land."
"This... is really what you wanted all along."
He nodded. A small, warm smile creased his lips. "Isn't it what you wanted? All of you?"
"I suppose so." She walked along with him for a time, wondering how to broach the one question that burned in her mind. "Aaron... you and I have never had much time to talk."
"A couple of wonderful dinners though," he laughed. "I can still remember the menu. Corn bread, turnip greens, prime rib."
She knew that she had invited him to the house, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what had been said, or eaten, or done. And that was a terrible pity. Her child, but she couldn't be completely certain of any single interaction. She was struck by a wave of remorse so powerful it shocked her.
"Did it... bother you?" she asked. "That you never had parents?"
He laughed. "What are you talking about? The whole colony was my family, remember?"
The next question was unspoken. Did you ever wonder who your parents were? If either or both of them were here on Avalon? Did you overlook into the faces of the Earth Born, and wonder if one of us was The One? Did you ever look at me and wonder, Aaron? Did you ever cry at night because no one would take the final responsibility for you? No one would give the final damn?
But she couldn't ask those questions. Not yet. Maybe later. Later, when she had the opportunity to get him by himself. Later, when maybe they could both get a little drunk. That might be the best choice after all. It might be the only choice.
There were more bees here.
Cadmann adjusted his binoculars, and watched as a cloud of Avalon insects fed on the corpse of some kind of marsupial. "What do you think?" he asked Aaron. "Did the bees attack it?"
"We've never seen attack behavior from Avalon bees," Aaron said irritably. "Scavenging, yes, a lot of that. I would bet you that poor critter fell out of the tree and broke its neck. The body began to decompose, and the scent attracted the bees. I don't think those are killers."
There was a steady line of bees arriving, eating, circling in a little lazy pattern abuzz with other bees (as if they were having a little community hoe-down, Cadmann thought), then heading back off into the distance.
"Cassandra, note the direction of the bee travel."
"Noted. Combined with data supplied by Carlos it is now reasonable to conclude that the nest is some twelve kilometers to your northeast."
"Probability?" Cadmann asked automatically.
"Numerical estimate impossible."
"That's interesting," Cadmann said. "Your fuzzy-logic program used to give numerical estimates. What happened?"
"My exactness criteria were changed."
"Oh? By whom?"
"I do not know," Cassandra said.
"Edgar," Cadmann muttered. "One of these days I'll kill him, so help me—You said data supplied by Carlos. He's found bees too?"
"Affirmative."
"How far is this lake now?" Cadmann asked.
Aaron said, "Maybe another hour. Mostly level from here."
"And downhill coming back," Cadmann said. "Okay. I wouldn't want to miss Chaka's lecture. I—think it may be important."
"What about the bees?" Sylvia asked. "Chaka seemed very interested in them."
Cadmann nodded. "He sure did. But they'll keep until tomorrow. Here, need a hand over that rock?"
"Yes, thank you. It's strange," she said. "It's hard to believe he's the same boy you used to take on Grendel Scout overnighters. Eight years old? Nine?"
"When what?"
"The swimming competition. Remember that?"
"Where Justin nearly drowned?"
She nodded her head. "He always pushed himself so hard against Aaron."
"No need for him to do that," Cadmann said. "Justin is his own boy."
"But to be a man he had to be like his father. And you were the closest he could come."
Cadmann knew that she was getting at something but wasn't quite certain what it was. "So?"
"So... he watched the two of you together. You and Aaron. Just like I have. And he sees what I see."
"And what is that?"
"That you and Aaron are two of the same type. Justin wants you to love him. Aaron wants to be you. Which of them will really get your love? Which will get your respect? And which of those things would a boy rather have?"
Cadmann brushed a column of branches out of his woman's face. "Are you saying that I would rather have had Aaron as a son than Justin?"
"No. I wouldn't presume to say that. But maybe Justin thinks that you would rather have had Aaron than him. And sometimes, that's all it takes."
Was it true? Was there a place within Cadmann that preferred Aaron as an heir? Even now? More than Justin or...
Or Mickey? His own flesh and blood. God. He never spent time with the boy. And now Mickey spent most of his time up in the mining camp where Big Chaka did biology and Stevens was rebuilding the mining equipment. Before Linda's death, the last time Mickey had come down of his own accord was to watch Stevens get creamed by Aaron in the debate.
Great.
Cadmann Weyland, Father of the Year.
It was probably too late to do anything about that. How much of the competition between Justin and Aaron was his fault?
He didn't know. He really didn't. All that he could do was to try to heal the rift, if he could. While he could. And to that he pledged himself.