My father gaped at her, eyes like cueballs in pockets of crepe-paper skin.
“There’s peach streusel for dessert,” she said. “Or ice cream, for those who don’t like streusel. And I can start a pot of coffee as soon as everyone’s ready.”
* * *
The conversation veered into less nervous territory. Mama Laura asked Jenny about her mother. Jenny’s father Ed Symanski had died a year and a half ago, of liver cancer. Her mom continued to live alone and in a condition of alcoholic dementia in the family house, which was falling into disrepair. Jenny had recently been granted power of attorney and was in the process of relocating her mother to an extended-care facility. There was a facility near Utica that was well regarded and prepared to deal with Mrs. Symanski’s alcoholism as well as her chronic confusion, but the chances that Jenny’s mom would move there without a fight were slim to none.
That was all true, but it was also a convenient excuse for Jenny to stay in Schuyler past the weekend, after Aaron would have flown back to Washington. And once Aaron was out of the way, Jenny could do what she had agreed to do for Tau. And for herself, of course. Mainly for herself. Incidentally for Tau.
My father had made no response to Mama Laura’s rebuke. He was silent during dessert but seemed more sleepy than sullen. After coffee he excused himself and allowed Mama Laura to escort him upstairs. Aaron took a bathroom break, but his hand was reaching for his phone even as he left the table. Soon we could hear his voice from behind the door off the hallway, terse unintelligible questions blurred by the echo of an enclosed space.
“I think it would probably be okay to turn on the TV in the living room,” Jenny said, meaning it would be better to get some news we could all share rather than insult Mama Laura by trawling our phones for information. Geddy located the remote and pushed the button. The old panel lit up weakly, already tuned to a news channel, a pixilated image of night over water with lights in the sky. The newscaster’s voice was offering carefully hedged speculation: according to the best available reports.… the fog of war … we cannot confirm …
Mama Laura came back downstairs, gave the TV a dubious glance, and asked whether anyone might be willing to help with the dishes. I volunteered. Dishwashing was traditionally a female task in my father’s household, but he wasn’t here to complain and Mama Laura accepted my offer with a smile. We were drying the china when she asked me about Amanda: “That girl from India you brought here years ago, do you still see her at all?”
“She’s from Canada, not India. And she lives in California now, so I don’t see her very often.”
“Too bad. I liked her. I know you did, too. Is there anyone special at the moment?”
“I know a lot of special people.”
“Yes, in your Affinity. But I meant someone, I guess you could say, intimately special. A girlfriend.”
“Lots.”
She toweled a chipped Noritake serving dish and set it in the drying rack. “That sounds kind of sad to me. Don’t you ever wish you could just be with someone you love, as simple as that?”
“Is it ever as simple as that?”
A rueful smile. “Maybe not. And, Adam, let me say I never did believe what your father said about Tau, that it’s all homosexuals and dope smokers.”
“Well, not all,” I said. “But we’re well supplied with both.”
“I’m not sure that’s funny.”
“I didn’t mean it to be.”
Three hours before the lights went out.
* * *
Aaron called us into the living room. He had been on his phone again, but he tucked it back into his pocket as we settled into chairs. Geddy left the TV on but turned down the volume so we could hear my brother’s news.
“Okay,” he said. “Mama Laura, I’m sorry, but we have to go back to Washington tonight. They’re prepping a plane at the local airport, and the very next thing I have to do is call a cab.”
“Is it as bad as that,” Mama Laura asked, “what’s happening in India?”
“No one’s sure. There’s absolutely no electronic communication of any kind coming out of the country right now. We think that’s because Chinese malware took down all the telecom infrastructure—Internet nodes, telephone exchanges, satellites, and relay stations.”
The Chinese were allied with Pakistan, and a small fleet of Chinese naval vessels had been parked in the Arabian Sea for weeks, but this was the first direct intervention by China, if that was in fact what had happened. “Most likely it’s just a smokescreen,” Aaron went on. “It’s not that the Chinese are attacking India, more like they’re drawing a curtain so Pakistan can stage an attack the rest of the world can’t see. Maybe also limiting India’s capacity to respond. We’ll know more in a few hours, if our own communications aren’t affected.”
Rebecca said, “Why would they be?”
“Part of the smokescreen. Our own military has the finest surveillance satellites in the world, but about half of them have stopped talking to us. We’ve also got unexplained power grid problems in New York City, Los Angeles, Seattle. Some kind of highly engineered, cleverly targeted software virus, possibly bleeding over from the attacks on Indian infrastructure. And it might get worse before it gets better. That’s why they need me in Washington. Congress is being recalled to convene an emergency session tomorrow morning.”
Mama Laura said, “Are we in danger?”
“Nobody’s bombing us, if that’s what you mean. But an infrastructure attack is technically an act of war. Of course, the Chinese are denying responsibility. Nobody really knows where it goes from here. The situation will get better eventually, but it might get worse before it improves. Jenny, you need to pack the bags. I’ll call a taxi.”
“I’m not going,” Jenny said.
We all stared at her.
“Not an option,” Aaron said. “Travel’s going to be disrupted. That’s inevitable. If you don’t fly back with me, you might be here a lot longer than you expect.”
“All the more reason. I can’t leave my mom where she is. Sooner or later she’ll hurt herself. And … dealing with her won’t be easy, but I’m psyched up for it now. Postponing it would be hard on both of us.”
This was the moment, I thought. If Aaron suspected anything, Jenny’s reluctance to leave would confirm his suspicions.
But he didn’t so much as glance at me, and the look he gave Jenny was merely contemptuous. “Look, if that’s what you want.…”
“It’s what I want.”
“Well … I’ll miss you, of course.” This was for the benefit of the family. I gave Jenny credit for not rolling her eyes. “The rest of you, please try not to worry. This is very bad news for the folks in Mumbai, but the most it’ll mean for Americans is a few days’ inconvenience. I’ll be in touch when I can.”
“Go on up and say good-bye to your father,” Mama Laura suggested.
“Right, of course,” my brother said.
* * *
Another limousine pulled up out front and carried my brother away.
It was a clear night, moonless, cool but not cold. An hour later we could have stood in the backyard and watched his chartered plane cross the sky from the regional airport on its trajectory to DC, navigation lights strobing green and red in the darkness. Two hours later we could have stood in the same place and seen the Milky Way wheeling overhead like a scatter of diamond dust, free from any obscuring urban glare. Because that was when the lights went out.