Eli was on his feet, inches from her, looming over her. Keira held her breath, certain he would hit the woman and perhaps by accident, hurt the child.
Lorene stood her ground. "You're soaking wet," she said calmly. "You're putting yourself through hell. Why?"
He seemed to sag. He touched Lorene's face, then Zera's shaggy head. "You two get the hell out of here, will you?" "What is it!" Lorene insisted.
"Leukemia," Eli said.
There was silence for a moment. Then Lorene sighed. "Oh." She shook her head. "Oh shit." She turned and walked away.
When she had gone through the front door, Keira spoke to Eli. "What are you going to do?" she asked. He said nothing.
"If you touch me," she said, "how soon will I die?" "It isn't touch."
"I know. I mean-" "You might live."
"You don't think so."
More silence.
"I'm not afraid," she said. "I don't know why I'm not, but. . . You should have let me play with Zera. She wouldn't have known and Lorene wouldn't have cared."
"Don't tell me what I ought to do."
She could not fear him-not even when he wanted her to. "Is Zera your daughter?" "No. She calls me Daddy, though. Her father's dead."
"You have kids?" "Oh yes."
"I always thought someday I'd like to."
"You've prepared yourself to die, haven't you?" She shrugged. "Can anyone, really?"
"I can't. To me, talking about it is like talking about the reality of elves and gnomes." He smiled wryly. "If the organism were intelligent, I'd say it didn't believe in death."
"But it will kill me."
He got up, pushing his chair away angrily. "Come on!"
He led her into the hall and to a large bedroom. "I'm going to lock you in," he said. "The windows are locked, but I guess even you could kick them out if you wanted to. If you do, don't expect any consideration from the people you meet outside."
She only looked at him.
Abruptly, he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Keira lay down on the bed feeling listless, not quite in pain, but unable to worry about Eli, his guilt, the compulsion that would surely overcome him soon. Her body was warning her. If she did not get her medication soon, she would feel worse. She closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep. She had the beginnings of a headache, or what felt like the beginnings
of one. Sometimes the dull, threatening discomfort could go on for hours without really turning into a headache. She
rolled over, away from the wet place her sweating body had made. Clay's Ark victims were not the only people who could sweat profusely without heat. Her joints hurt her when she moved.
She had decided she was to be left alone for the night when Eli came in. She could see him vaguely outlined in the moonlight. Apparently, he could see her much better.
"Fool," he said. "Why didn't you tell me you felt bad? You've got medicine in the car, haven't you?" Not caring whether he could see or not, she nodded.
"I thought so. Get up. Come show me where it is."
She did not feel like moving at all, but she got up and followed him out. In the dining room, she watched him pull on a pair of black, cloth-lined, plastic gloves.
"Town gloves," he said. "People take us for bikers in stores sometimes. I had a guy serve me once with a shotgun next to him. Damn fool. I could have had the gun anytime I wanted it. And all the while I was protecting him from the
disease."
Why are you protecting me? she thought, but she said nothing. She followed him out to the car, which had been moved farther from the house. There, she showed him the compartment that contained her medicine. She had left it on the seat once, not thinking, and someone had nearly managed to smash into the car to get it, no doubt hoping for drugs. They would have been disappointed. They might have gotten into her chemotherapy medicines and made themselves thoroughly sick.
"Where's your father's bag?" Eli asked.
She was startled, but she hid her surprise. "Why do you want it?" "He wants it. Meda says she's going to let him examine her." "Why?"
"He wants to. It gives him the feeling he's doing something significant, something familiar that he can control. Knowing Meda, I suspect he needs something like that right now."
"Can I see him?"
"Later, maybe. Where's the bag?"
This time, she couldn't help glancing toward the bag's compartment. It was only a tiny glance. She did not think he had seen it. But he went straight to the compartment, located the hidden keyhole, stared at it for a moment, then selected the right key on the first try.
"You never turn on any lights," Keira said. "Does the disease help you see in the dark?"
"Yes." He took the bag from its compartment. "Take your medicine to your room. All of it." "The bag won't work for you," she said. "It's coded. Only my father can use it."
He just smiled.
She had to suppress an impulse to touch him. The feeling surprised her and she stood looking at him until he turned abruptly and strode away. She watched him, realizing he may have felt as bad as she did. His smile had dissolved into a pinched, half-starved look before he turned away.
She stood where she was, first looking after him, then looking up at the clear black sky with its vast spray of stars. The desert sky at night was fascinating and calming to her. She knew she should follow Eli, but she stayed, wondering which of the countless stars was Proxima Centauri-or rather, which was Alpha Centauri. She knew that Proxima could
not be seen separately by the unaided eye. A red star whose light a little girl born on Earth longed for.
"Hi," a child's voice said from somewhere nearby.
Keira jumped, then looked around. At her feet stood a sphinxlike boy somewhat larger than Zera. "Daddy said you have to come in," the boy said.
"Is Eli your daddy?" "Yes. I'm Jacob."
"Does anyone call you Jake?" "No."
"Lucky boy. I'm Keira-no matter what you hear anyone else say. Okay?"
"Okay. You have to come in." "I'm coming."
The boy walked beside her companionably. "You're nicer than the other one," he said. "Other one?"
"Like you, but not as brown."
"Rane? My sister?" "Is she your sister?"
"Where is she? Where did you see her?" "She didn't like me."
"Jacob, where did you see her?" "Do you like me?"
"At the moment, no." She stopped and stooped to bring herself closer to eye level with him. Her joints did not care much for the gesture. "Jacob, tell me where my sister is."
"You do like me," he said. "But I think Daddy will get mad at me if I tell you."
"Damn right, he will," Eli's voice said.
Keira looked up, saw him, and stood up, wondering how anyone could move so silently in sand that crunched underfoot. The boy moved that way, too.
"Eli, why can't I know where my sister is?" she asked. "What's happening to her?" Eli seemed to ignore her, spoke to his son. "Hey, little boy, come on up here."
He did not bend at all, but Jacob leaped into his arms. Then the boy turned to look down at Keira.
"You tell Kerry what her sister was doing last time you saw her," Eli said. The boy frowned. "Keira?"
"Yes. Tell her."
"You should call her Keira. That's what she likes." "Do you?" Eli asked her.