Adam smiled, eyes going distant. “In particular, I did my best to be nice to the secretaries; of whom there was a considerable number, and each better looking than the next. True, some were slightly older than I; but that had never stopped me before — I’ve been out with many women in their twenties. In fact, some of my most interesting and, uh, productive dates have been with older, more worldly women. It looked as though the summer was shaping up nicely, apart from the job itself, of course.
“So you can imagine how disturbed I was when, after better than a week there, I had yet to get one of these ladies to respond to anything beyond the most businesslike inquiry: ‘Thank you for returning that Orator-10 element, Miss Peach, and here are your Elite-12 and Italic-12. Have a nice day.’ ‘Thank you, Adam.’ Beyond that — nothing…!”
Had no idea where he was going with this; didn’t particularly care. Good company, diverting conversationalist; lived interesting life to date, related it entertainingly.
But didn’t distract me from food.
“It was terrible,” Adam continued plaintively. “I began to wonder if something was wrong with me: Maybe a postnasal infection had left me with an unspeakable variety of halitosis, of which only I was unaware. Or maybe I had deodorant failure. Or perhaps someone had circulated a vicious rumor that I had herpes — or worse, perhaps Mother had interdicted me…!
“I asked her about that and she denied it. Now, to my knowledge, she never lied to me. She was a fine lawyer and a consummate politician, true; and it was often necessary to listen closely to make sure that the words one heard carried the meaning they seemed to on the surface — but she never lied…
“Well, by the end of the first month I was completely at a loss. I didn’t know what to do; which way to turn. I had discharged my job duties flawlessly. I had kept track of all the elements without error; given them out, taken them in, ordered new ones from IBM; all in the most charming, helpful, personable manner possible — and I am my mother’s son: I know my social psychodynamics.
“All to no avail, however: The ladies simply would not socialize with me, no matter what I did or didn’t. My self-esteem was in shambles; my reputation as a roué was crumbling.
“Finally at wits’ end, I sought advice from one of Mother’s senior advisors. He was a wily old fox, versed in the intrigues of political life — but more importantly, he knew people.
“I told him my problem. He smiled paternally and patted me on the shoulder. ‘Adam,’ he soothed, ‘don’t let it get to you. It’s nothing you’ve done, or can do; it’s your job.’
“ ‘My job?’ Now I was more in the dark than ever. All I do is keep track of the—’
“ ‘Elements,’ said he. ‘Of course they won’t associate with you. Don’t you understand? You’re taboo, the element boy…’ ”
Silence echoed through kitchen. Froze, glaring, fork halfway to mouth. Adam’s expression a study in puzzled innocence.
Terry picked up vibrations; emitted long, low whistle; said, “How ’bout that.”
After counting to ten, slowly, again became aware of blended aromas rising from feast spread before me. Weighed benefits, liabilities. Carefully. Violence such a transitory satisfaction. Decided to let him live.
But just imagine: If do decide to keep him, will spend whole rest of life never knowing when something like that due again — but positive out there, somewhere. Waiting. With my name on it…
Good night!
Surprise! Adam just asked to accompany us when search resumes for AAs — instead of baldly declaring intentions, per usual practice.
(This, standing alone, offers hope: May be making progress; perhaps housebroken status achievable within foreseeable future.)
So agreed. But with conditions…
First: Must understand agreement embodies no implied secondary (read “sexual”) acquiescence. Will be partners; sharing resources, proceeds, risks, hardships — period.
Second: Pooling brains, agreeing wherever possible on course to be followed — but with me ultimately setting policy. My decisions final. If time allows, prior discussions permissible; but if crisis looms, or events move quickly, orders must be carried out without hesitation.
Pecking order necessary: Present-day environment unforgiving; indecision, inexperience, lack of teamwork — all erode chances for survival. Despite Adam’s slight age advantage, am more experienced in survival in world-as-is; been knocking about, self-sufficient, for months. Plus own education vastly broader, again despite age difference; for have devoted bulk of waking hours to emulating Rikki-Tikki-Tavi (“Run and find out!”); trying to learn something about everything, become “generalist” before settling down to specialty.
Adam, by contrast, has learned lots about very little; narrowed interests too early: From own observations, is unparalleled at keyboard, in kitchen; first-rate EMT; efficient domestic (Lord! — entire ancestry, along with ghosts of most of Baltimore’s Upper Crust, must be spinning in graves at that summation!); plus shrewd student of people.
Clever also, according to hearsay, at mechanics, electronics. Demon inventor, tinkerer: Most stereo equipment throughout home product of Adam’s handiwork; plus garage contains (says he; haven’t been out there yet) numerous highly modified automobiles, none of whose designers would recognize, all of which boast performance, mileage, handling, durability far exceeding manufacturers’ specifications.
But since Man’s Passing, has existed (notwithstanding brash persona) as conservative stay-at-home, scavenging as need arises. Explorations limited to forays about already familiar (to him) city, suburbs. Totally unprepared to set off into wilderness.
Therefore, final condition: Must apprentice to me as karate student. Two reasons: First, we will encounter inimical ABs en route — utter certainty, this. Would be comforting to know partner competent to guard my back (plus will feel lots better knowing Adam able to take care of himself should something happen to me — certainly not least probable outcome in post-Armageddon conditions).
Second, instructing him good therapy for me: Am wreck; going to take weeks of rest/food/exercise to restore me to combat-readiness, and sparring only training better than kata.
Into second week now. Stronger; can walk unaided, bathe self — though in habit of sociable morning soak by now; luxuriating to Jacuzzi-driven hot water, massage, lazy prebreakfast conversation, laughing at Terry: Silly goose decided if we can, he can — and conducts most energetic baths imaginable at poolside (tubside — tubside [size blurs distinction!]); perched carefully on rim, grabbing huge beakfuls, slinging all directions, flapping violently, squawking ecstatically, drenching everything within ten-foot radius — all without getting more than tiniest sprinkle on feathers.
Have begun Adam’s training. Initial work revolves around exercises to enhance balance, flexibility, coordination, strength, reaction time, speed; aiding student to recognize feel of own ki; learning to concentrate flow; focus, direct through body to attain instantaneous, automatic (preferably correct!) reaction, counterreaction, striking power.
Adam is, of course, quick study (suspect all hominems natural athletes, barring prohibitive physical defects). Mastered principles underlying balance in record time (yes, quicker than me here, too); same with footwork, physics governing striking power. Working now to establish basic group of hyperalert, hair-trigger reflexes which constitute foundation of martial art; “secret” of blindingly fast; shockingly violent, concentrated frightfulness: