Chapter Thirty
“But whether the Neanderthals come with us or not to the red planet, we should adopt their view of that world’s color. Mars is not a symbol of war; it is the color of health, of life—and if it is, perhaps, barren of life now, we should not let it remain so any longer…”
It was time for Mary to get the codon writer to Jock, so that he could take it back to…
Well, to where?
Mary had laughed when she’d seen Councilor Bedros on the Voyeur referring to the Barast world as “Jantar.” There was no single name for the version of Earth that Mary called home. “Earth” was just the English term; it was called different things in other languages. Terra was the word in Latin and many of its descendants. The French—and the French-Canadians—called it Terre. In Esperanto, it was Tero. The Greek term—Gaea —was popular among environmentalists. Russians called it Zemlja; the Swedes Jorden. In Hebrew it was Eretz; in Arabic, Ard; in Farsi, Zamin; in Mandarin, Diqiu; and in Japanese, Chikyuu. The most beautiful of the lot, thought Mary, was the Tahitian, Vuravura. Ponter simply called it “Mare’s world,” but Mary doubted that was going to catch on in general use.
In any event, Mary now had to get the codon writer to Jock so that he could take it safely back to…to Gliksinia.
Gliksinia? No, too harsh. How about Sapientia? Or—
The travel cube Mary had called for arrived, and she clambered into one of the two rear seats. “The Debral nickel mine,” said Mary.
The driver gave her a cool look. “Going home?”
“Not me,” said Mary. “But somebody else is.”
Mary’s heart leaped when she caught sight of Ponter, part of the group returning from Donakat Island. But she had promised herself she would behave like a proper native of this world, and not run into his arms. After all, Two were not One!
Still, when no one else was looking, she blew him a kiss, and he smiled broadly back at her.
But it wasn’t him she’d really come to see. It was Jock Krieger. Mary sidled up to him, carrying her long wrapped package under her arm. “Beware of Gliksins bearing gifts!” she said.
“Mary!” exclaimed Jock.
Mary motioned for Jock to move out of earshot of the others. A silver-clad Exhibitionist tried to follow them, but Mary turned around and glared at him until he scuttled away.
“So,” said Mary, “what do you think of this world?”
“It’s astonishing,” said Jock. “I knew in an intellectual sort of way that we’d screwed up our environment, but until I saw all this…” He gestured at the countryside. “It’s like finding Eden.”
Mary laughed. “Isn’t it, though? Too bad it’s already occupied, eh?”
“It is indeed,” said Jock. “Are you going to come back home with us, or do you want to spend some more time in the garden?”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to stay a few more days.” She tried not to smile. “I’ve been making…great progress.” She presented the package. “But I do have something I want you to take back.”
“What is it?”
Mary looked left and right, then checked over her shoulder. She then looked down, just to make sure that Jock hadn’t been forced to strap on a Companion. “It’s a codon writer—a Barast DNA synthesizer.”
“Why do you need me to take it back? Why don’t you just bring it yourself when you come?”
Mary lowered her voice. “This is banned technology. I’m not really supposed to have it—no one is. But it’s the most amazing thing. I’ve written up some notes for you about it; they’re included in the package.”
Jock lifted his eyebrows up toward his pompadour, clearly impressed. “Banned technology? I knew I was doing the right thing when I hired you…”
Suddenly Mary was awake. It took her a moment to orient herself in the darkness, to figure out where she was.
A large, warm form was sleeping quietly next to her. Ponter?
No, no. Not yet, not tonight. It was Bandra; Mary had been sharing Bandra’s bed these last few nights.
Mary glanced at the ceiling. Neanderthal digits were gently glowing there, specifying the time. Mary was good at deciphering them when wide awake, but her vision was blurry right now, and it took her a few seconds—a few beats —to remember that she had to read them from right to left, and that a circle was the symbol for five, not zero. It was the middle of daytenth nine; a little after 3:00A.M.
There was no point leaping out of bed, even though that’s what she felt like doing. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was sleeping next to another woman; indeed, she was surprised how easy it had been to get used to that. But the thought that had forced her awake was still in her head, burning brightly.
Occasionally she’d awoken in the middle of the night with brilliant thoughts before, only to fall back asleep and have them completely gone by morning. Indeed, many years ago she’d briefly fancied herself a poet—she and Colm had met at one of his poetry readings—and she’d kept a pad at her bedside, along with a small book-light, so that she could make notes without disturbing him. But she’d given that up soon enough, since the notes had turned out, when reviewed in the morning, to be mostly gibberish.
But this thought, this notion, this wonderful, wonderful idea, would still be there in the morning, of that Mary was certain. It was too important to let slip away.
She hugged herself, nestled back into the cushions, and soon was asleep, very much at peace.
The next morning Christine gently woke Mary at the agreed upon time—two-thirds of the way through the tenth daytenth. Bandra’s Companion had been asked to wake her simultaneously, and did indeed seem to be doing so.
Mary smiled at Bandra. “Hey,” she said, reaching out to touch the Barast woman’s arm.
“Healthy day,” said Bandra. She blinked a few times, still waking up. “Let me get to work on breakfast.”
“Not yet,” said Mary. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
They were facing each other on the bed, only a short distance between them. “What?”
“When Two were last One,” said Mary, “Ponter and I had a talk about…about our future.”
Bandra evidently detected something in Mary’s tone. “Ah,” she said.
“You know we had some…some matters to work out.”
Bandra nodded.
“Ponter proposed a solution—or at least a partial solution.”
“I have been dreading this moment,” Bandra said softly.
“You knew that this situation could not last,” said Mary. “I…I can’t stay here forever.”
“Why not?” said Bandra, her voice plaintive.
“Just yesterday, Jock—my boss—was asking me when I’m coming home. And I do have to go back; I still have to complete the annulment of my marriage to Colm. Besides, I…”
“Yes?”
Mary moved the shoulder that she wasn’t leaning on. “I just can’t take it—being here, in this world, with Ponter so close and yet being unable to see him.”
Bandra closed her eyes. “So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to return to my world,” said Mary.
“And that’s it? You’re leaving Ponter? You’re leaving me?”