She hit the switch, the lights came on, and she turned around and closed the door, cranking over the lever that caused the deadbolt to clunk into place.
Mary removed her shoes and passed through the living room, with its peach-colored walls, noting, but not caring, that the red eye on the answering machine was winking at her. She entered her bedroom and took off her clothesclothes that she knew she would throw out, clothes that she could never wear again, clothes that could never come clean no matter how many times they were washed. She then entered the en suite bathroom, but didnt turn on the light in there; she made do with the illumination spilling in from the Tiffany lamps on her night tables. She climbed into the shower and, in the semidarkness, she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin felt raw, and then she got out her heavy flannel pajamasthe ones she saved for the coldest winter nights, the ones that covered her most completelyand she put them on, and she crawled into bed, hugging herself and shivering and crying some more and finally, finally, finally, after hours of trying, falling into a fitful sleep punctuated by dreams of being chased and dreams of fighting and dreams of being cut with knives.
Reuben Montego had never met his ultimate boss, the president of Inco, and the doctor was actually surprised to find he had a listed number. With considerable trepidation, Reuben called him.
Reuben was proud of his employer. Inco had started, like so many Canadian companies, as a subsidiary of an American firm: in 1916, it had been created as the Canadian arm of the International Nickel Company, a New Jersey mining concern. But twelve years later, in 1928, the Canadian subsidiary became the parent company through an exchange of shares.
Incos principal mining operations were in and around the meteor crater here in Sudbury where, 1.8 billion years ago, an asteroid between one and three kilometers wide had slammed into the ground at fifteen klicks per second.
Incos fortunes rose and fell along with the worldwide demand for nickel; the company provided a third of the worlds supply. But during it all, Inco really did strive to be a good corporate citizen. And when Herbert Chen of the University of California had proposed, in 1984, that the depth of Incos Creighton Mine, its low natural radioactivity, and the availability of large amounts of heavy water stockpiled for use in Canadas CANDU reactors, made Sudbury the ideal location for the worlds most advanced neutrino detector, Inco had enthusiastically agreed to make the site available for free, and to do the additional excavation for the ten-story-tall detector chamber, and the 1,200-meter drift leading to it, at cost.
And although the Sudbury Neutrino Observatory was a joint project of five Canadian universities, two American ones, Oxford, and Americas Los Alamos, Lawrence Berkeley, and Brookhaven National Laboratories, any trespassing charges against this Neanderthal, this Ponter, would have to be laid by the sites owner. And that was Inco.
Hello, sir, Reuben said, when the president answered the phone. Please forgive me for disturbing you at home. This is Reuben Montego. Im the site doc
I know who you are, said the cultured, deep voice.
That flustered Reuben, but he pressed on. Sir, Id like you to call the RCMP and tell them that Inco is not going to press any charges against the man found inside the Sudbury Neutrino Observatory.
Im listening.
Ive managed to convince the hospital not to discharge the man. Massive heavy-water ingestion can be fatal, according to the Material Safety Data Sheet. It upsets the osmotic pressure across cell boundaries. Now, the man couldnt possibly have taken in enough to do real damage, but were using that as a pretext to keep him from being discharged. Otherwise, hed be in the slammer right now.
The slammer, repeated the president, sounding amused.
Reuben felt even more discombobulated. Anyway, like I said, I dont think he belongs in prison.
Tell me why, said the voice.
And Reuben did just that.
The president of Inco was a decisive man. Ill make the call, he said.
Ponter was lying on awell, it was a bed, he supposed, but it wasnt recessed to be flush with the floor; instead it was raised up by a harsh-looking metal frame. And the pillow was an amorphous bag stuffed withhe wasnt sure what, but it certainly wasnt dried pine nuts, like his pillow back home.
The bald manPonter had now seen that there was a stubble against his dark scalp, so the baldness must be an affectation, not a congenital conditionhad left the room. Ponter had interlaced his fingers behind his own head, giving some firmer support for his skull. It wasnt rude to Hak. His Companions scanners perceived everything within a couple of paces; it only needed its directional lens uncovered when looking at an object outside its scanning range.
Its clearly nighttime, said Ponter, into the air.
Yes, said Hak. Ponter could feel the cochlear implants vibrate slightly as his head pressed back against his arms.
But its not dark out. Theres a window in this room, but they seem to have flooded the outdoors with artificial light.
I wonder why? said Hak.
Ponter got upso strange to dangle ones feet over the side of the bed in order to riseand hurried to the window. It was too bright to see stars, but
Its there, said Ponter, facing his wrist out through the glass so Hak could see.
Thats Earths moon, all right, said Hak. And its phasea waning crescentis exactly right for todays date of 148/118/24.
Ponter shook his head and moved back to the strange, elevated bed. He sat on the edge of it; it was uncomfortable to do so, what with no back support. He then touched the side of his head, which had been bandaged by the man with the wrapped head; Ponter wondered if that mans bandages were because of a massive head wound of his own. I hurt my head, Ponter said, into the air.
Yes, replied Hak, but you saw the deepviews they took of you; there was no serious damage done.
But I almost drowned, too.
Thats certainly true.
So so maybe my brain was injured. Anoxia, and all that
You think youre hallucinating? asked Hak.
Well, said Ponter, lifting his right arm, and gesturing at the bizarre room around him, how else to explain all this?
Hak was silent for a moment. If you are hallucinating, the Companion said, then my telling you that you are not could just be part of that hallucination. So theres really no point in me trying to disabuse you of that notion, is there?
Ponter lay back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, which was devoid of timepieces and artwork.
You really should try to get some sleep, said Hak. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning.
Ponter nodded slightly. White noise, he said. Hak complied, playing a soft, soothing hiss through the cochlear implants, but still it seemed to Ponter to be a long time before he fell asleep.
Chapter 9
Adikor Huld couldnt take being inside the house. Everything there reminded him of poor, vanished Ponter. Ponters favorite chair, his datapad, the sculptures Ponter had selectedeverything. And so hed gone out back, to sit on the deck, to stare sadly at the countryside. Pabo came out and looked at Adikor for a time; Pabo had been Ponters doghed had her long before Adikor and Ponter had begun living together. Adikor would keep herif only so the house would not be so lonely. Pabo went back inside. Shed be going to the front door, Adikor knew, looking out there to see if Ponter were returning. Shed trekked back and forth, looking through both doors, ever since Adikor had come home yesterday. Adikor had never returned from work without Ponter before; poor Pabo was baffled and clearly very sad.