Best we dont talk for a while, Hutch said. You got a lot in the air. Dont worry about the cooking. Well get that all smoothed out when youre in Salton. Then we can go into production for real, eh? See some money worth having.
Okay, David said.
Hutch sighed and pulled up his hand terminal. As he tapped at its keyboard, he kept talking.
Im going to slip a little something in that account of yours, right? Call it a bonus. Take and get yourself something nice, right.
Right.
And then Hutch was gone, walking out toward Martineztown and the tube station and the world. David sat alone where hed sat with Leelee not all that long before. The sense of peace and calm was gone. His hands balled in fists, and he had nothing he could hit. He felt cored out. Hollowed. He waited ten minutes the way he was supposed to and then took himself home.
The next night was the party. His party. Pop-Pop was there, smiling a little lopsided since the stroke and thinner than David had ever seen him, but still strong voiced and chipper. Aunt Bobbie sat on one side of him, Davids father on the other, like they were propping him up. Muted sounds of silverware against plates and voices raised in conversation competed with a three-piece band set up on a dais by the front doors that filtered into the private back room. Green and gold tablecloths stretched over three tables to make it all seem like it connected. The meal itself had been chicken in black sauce with rice and fresh vegetables, and David had eaten two helpings without really tasting them. His father had taken on the expense of an open bar and Uncle Istvans new wife was already well on her way to drunk and sort of hitting on one of the older cousins. Davids mother paced the back of the room touching shoulders, dropping in and out of conversations like she was running for office. David wanted badly to be anywhere else.
You know, back in the ancient days, Pop-Pop said, gesturing with a glass of whiskey, they built cathedrals. Massive churches lifted up to the glory of God. Far, far beyond what youd expect people to manage with just quarry stone and trees and a few steel knives, you know. Just a few simple tools.
Weve heard about the cathedrals, Aunt Bobbie said. She had a drink too, but David couldnt tell what it was. Legally, David wasnt supposed to drink alcohol for another year, but he had a bulb of beer in his hand. He didnt actually like the taste of it, but he drank it anyway.
The thing thats important, though, is the time, you see? Pop-Pop said. The time. Raising up one of those cathedrals would take whole generations. The men who drew the plans, who envisioned the final form of the thing? They would be dead long before it was finished. It might be their grandsons or their great-grandsons or their great-great-grandsons who saw the work complete.
Across the room, one of the younger cousins was crying, and Davids mother sloped over and knelt, taking the squalling kids hand in her own and leading him to his mother. David choked down another mouthful of beer. Next year, hed be in Salton, so busy that he wouldnt have to come to these things anymore.
Theres a beauty in that, Pop-Pop said earnestly to everyone and no one. Such a massive plan, such ambition. A man might be setting the final stone and think back to his own father whod set the stones below him and his grandfather whod set the stones below that. To have a place in the great scheme, that was the beauty of it. To be part of something you didnt begin and you would not see completed. It was beautiful.
I love you, Dad, Aunt Bobbie said, but thats bullshit.
David blinked. He looked from Pop-Pop to his own father and back. The men looked embarrassed. It was like shed farted. Aunt Bobbie took another sip of her drink.
Bobbie, Davids father said, maybe you should ease up on that stuff.
Im fine. Its just that Ive been hearing about the cathedrals since I was a kid, and its bullshit. Seriously, who were they to decide what everyone was going to be doing for the next four generations? Its not like they asked their however many great-grandkids if they wanted to be stonecutters. Maybe some of them wanted tobe musicians. Hell, be architects and do something of their own. Deciding what everyones going to dowhat were going to be. Its hubris, isnt it?
Were not talking about cathedrals anymore, are we, sis?
Yeah, because it was a really obscure metaphor, Aunt Bobbie replied. Im just saying that the plan may be great as long as youre inside it. You step outside, though, and then what?
There was a pain in her voice that David couldnt fathom, but he saw it reflected in his grandfathers eyes. The old man put his hand on Aunt Bobbies, and she held it like she was a little girl about to be led off to her bath time. Davids father, on the other side, looked peevish.
Dont take her seriously, Pop-Pop. She was talking to security all day, and shes still cranky.
Is there a reason I shouldnt be? Its like every time anything strange happens, lets go talk to Draper again.
You had to expect that, Roberta, his father said. He only called her Roberta when he was angry. Its the consequence of your decision.
And what decision is that? she snapped. Her voice was getting louder. Some of the cousins were looking over at them now, their own conversations fading.
Davids father laughed. You arent working. What are they calling it? Indefinite administrative leave?
Psychological furlough, Aunt Bobbie said. Whats your point?
My point is that of course theyre going to want to talk to you when things get weird. You cant blame them for being suspicious. We were almost killed by Earthers. Everyone in this room and those rooms out there and the corridors. And you were working for them.
I was not! It wasnt a shout because it didnt have the gravel and roughness of shouting. It was loud, though, and it carried power along with it like a punch. I worked with the faction that was trying to avert the war. The one that did avert the war. Everyone in these rooms is alive because of the people I helped. But with them, not for them.
The room was quiet, but Davids father was too deep into the fight to notice. He rolled his eyes.
Really? Who was paying your wages? Earth was. The people that hate us.
They dont hate us, Bobbie said, her voice tired. Theyre afraid of us.
Then why do they act like they hate us? Davids father said with something like triumph.
Because thats what fear looks like when it needs someplace to go.
Davids mother seemed to appear behind the three of them like some sort of magic trick. She wasnt there, and then she was, her restraining hand on her husbands shoulder. Her smile was humorless and undeniable.
Were here for David tonight, she said.
Yes, Pop-Pop said, rubbing his palm against the back of Aunt Bobbies hand, soothing her. For David.
His fathers face set into an annoyed mask, but Aunt Bobbie nodded.
Youre right, she said. Im sorry, David. Dad, Im sorry. Ive just had a really rough day and probably too much to drink.
Its all right, angel, Pop-Pop said. Tears brightened his eyes.
I just thought that by now Id have some idea ofof who I was. Of what I was going to do next, and
I know, angel. We all know what youre going through.
She laughed at that, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. All us of but me, then.
The rest of the evening went just the way those things were supposed to go. People laughed and argued and drank. His father tried to call for silence and make a little speech about how proud he was, but one of the kid cousins was whispering and tapping on his hand terminal all the way through it. A few people gave David small, discreet presents of money to help him set up his dorm in Salton. Uncle Istvans new wife gave him an unpleasant, boozy kiss before gathering herself up and walking out with Istvan on her arm. They took a rental cart back home, his parents and Aunt Bobbie and him. He couldnt shake the image of her weeping at the table. You step outside, though, and then what?