Hope exploded through Ben. “What? When?”
“Just now,” Kendi said. “I spent the last three hours arranging it.”
“I need to see those,” the woman said, taking the pad from Kendi. She read for a moment, then wrinkled her forehead. “This isn’t official yet. It says Mr. Rymar has to sign the attached agreement.”
“What is it?” Ben asked. “I’ll sign it, whatever it is.”
Kendi faced him. “I’m sorry, Ben. It was the best I could do.”
“Sorry?” Ben echoed. Dread stole over him. “What do you mean? What’s it say?”
“The Council agreed to make the Church grant us custody,” Kendi said. “But only if you join the Children of Irfan as the Offspring.”
“Oh god.” Ben backed away. Behind him, Evan started to cry again.
“I used every bit of influence I have,” Kendi said. “Grandmother Pyori said her main concern—her
only
concern—is to save the Children from bankruptcy. She said you can do that just as easily as the babies can. It was either them or you.”
“A deal with the devil,” Ben said.
“Or Daniel Vik,” Lucia said.
“The Children are not the devil,” Kendi said. “But it is a lifetime contract.”
Ben hesitated less than a second. He pressed his thumb to the datapad in the officer’s hand. It beeped once in acknowledgment.
“The babies are yours, Mr. Rymar,” the officer said. “I’m glad.” And she left before anyone could respond. Ben felt a momentary twinge of guilt about the things he had said to her. Then he turned to watch Harenn nurse his son, and his heart overflowed.
“Whoozawiddiewuddyden? Whoozabigboy?”
Kendi poked his head into the nursery. Gretchen was leaning over the crib, making faces and cooing at Evan. It was one of the few times when no one was holding the baby. For the last three days Evan had been steadily passed from one person to the next, barely set down long enough for diaper changes. Ben, Harenn, and Kendi held him the most, of course, but Lucia, Bedj-ka, Martina, and even Keith had all taken their turns. Mysteriously, Evan always ended up in the hands of his fathers when his diaper needed changing, but Kendi didn’t mind. Not yet, anyway.
“Amazing how babies soften even the most hardened adult into putty,” Kendi remarked.
Gretchen ignored him. “Wuzzawuzzabigboy,” she said. “Whoozerauntiegretchenden?”
Kendi joined her at the crib. Evan stared up at both of them with enormous blue eyes and a solemn face that came straight out of the holograms and pictures Kendi had seen of Ben as a baby. It seemed both strange and completely natural to have this baby in his life, this infant that carried Kendi’s own childhood name. Unlike adults friends and family, Evan never left. He was always somewhere in the house, and he always needed something—a diaper change, feeding, burping, cuddling. It had only been three days, and already the entire house revolved around him. Kendi found himself willing to do nothing but stare at Evan for hours on end. It was weird. But he liked it.
“We can’t really say he looks like you, Kendi” said Keith, also entering the room.
Kendi put his dark hand on the fair skin of Evan’s forehead. “Nope. He looks like his daddy. I’ll just have to make sure he
acts
like me.”
“So how many people have been asking for publicity photos of this kid?” Keith asked.
“Only every single reporter on every single feed. They can get stuffed, far as I’m concerned.”
“What’s the latest on the move to the new house?” Gretchen asked.
“We’re hoping for next month,” Kendi said, still looking down at Evan. “It’ll be spring by then, and the rains will have stopped.”
“What’s the place like?” Keith said. “I haven’t seen it.”
Kendi picked Evan up. He smelled like sweet powder. His skin had lost most of its blotchiness, and he seemed more alert. “It’s bigger,” Kendi said. “On the outskirts of Treetown. There’s enough room for Harenn, Bedj-ka, Lucia, and a whole bunch of kids. It’s also the only house in the entire talltree, so we’ll have a lot more privacy.”
Keith whistled. “Sounds expensive.”
“It is, but Salman’s realtor—we hired her—says we’ll get a nice price on the current house. Apparently the fact that Ben lives here is going to spark a bidding war. We haven’t even listed yet, and she’s already getting offers.”
“Nice,” Keith said.
“And we got a royalty check from HyperFlight last week. Thanks to Ben, Dream and Despair has already sold four million copies both here and off-planet. HyperFlight can’t crank them out fast enough.”
“Don’t I know it,” Gretchen said. “I’m set for years.”
“So we’re doing fine.” He wanted to ask how Keith was doing, but swallowed the words. Keith would get angry. Martina would let him know if they needed anything.
The computer announced a visitor. Kendi carried Evan into the living room in time to see Ben admit his uncle Hazid, aunt Sil, and cousins Tress and Zayim. Kendi tried not to grimace. Evan, who had dozed off, stirred restlessly in Kendi’s arms.
“Those security guards outside are gangsters,” Sil complained before she even had her coat off. “They wanted to
search
me. Imagine! And why don’t you get rid of those...gawkers around your house? I don’t know how I’ll stand the strain of them staring at me every time I come to visit.”
“Hello, Sil,” Kendi said. “Nice to see you. Something to drink? Water? Tea?”
Hemlock?
“I want to see him,” Tress said, holding out her arms to take the sleeping Evan from Kendi, who handed him over warily. “So you’re the little guy that’s causing all this fuss. Yes, you are. Yes, you
are
.”
“Oh, brother.” Zayim plopped down on the sofa. “It’s just a baby, sis.”
“He’s your cousin,” Tress said. “God, he looks just like Ben. He’s so
cute
.”
Kendi warmed toward Tress against his will. Anyone who found his son cute got automatic brownie points. Kendi couldn’t help it.
“Where’s everyone else?” Hazid asked, also taking a seat.
“Harenn and Lucia are napping,” Ben told him. “Bedj-ka’s in school at the monastery. Martina’s out doing her level best to restore the economy by shopping until she drops. Either that or she’s riding dinosaurs again.”
“I don’t want to hear about that,” Kendi said.
“Has Mother been by to visit yet?” Sil said.
“Yesterday, briefly,” Kendi said. “She’s enormously busy now that her polls have jumped. Me, I can’t wait until the whole stupid thing is over.”
“We saw your speech, Ben,” Tress said, and Kendi remembered that they hadn’t spoken to Ben’s extended family since the revelation. “I’ve gotten letters from total strangers asking what it’s like to be related to you. How come you didn’t tell us?”
“I didn’t tell anybody,” Ben said. “I didn’t even tell Kendi for almost a month after I found out.”
“Reporters have been asking to interview me,” Tress added, “but your publicity team said to turn them down for now.”
“It’s a control thing until the election’s over,” Ben said.
Tress chucked Evan under the chin. “I don’t mind. I’m not much of an interview person.”
“I am,” Zayim grumbled. “Some of them have offered me money, and I’m not exactly flush these days.”
The last sentence had been a none-too-subtle hint, but Kendi happened to know that Salman had already given Tress and Zayim generous stipends in return for their media silence, so he pretended not to have heard.
“So what’s it like being the famous Offspring?” Hazid asked.
Ben grimaced. “I haven’t met with the Council of Irfan to discuss it yet. They can contact
me
if they want to talk. Right now, I have a baby to take care of.”
“If you need another babysitter, let me know,” Tress said. “He’s such a sweetie. How many times does he get up at night?”
“Only twice,” Ben said. “It’s not as hard taking care of him as I thought it would be. Of course, we have lots of people involved.”
“Wait until you have two and three and ten and eleven,” Sil sniffed. “I can’t imagine having that many children. Tress and Zayim were plenty enough, and then Ara kept leaving you with me.”
“Mother,” Tress warned. “Remember what we said about counting to five before you said anything?”
“Who wants tea?” Kendi said loudly. “I’ll put a kettle on.”
While the water was boiling, Ben showed everyone the nursery, which was stocked with enough toys, clothes, and supplies for ten Evans.
“A lot of it we got for free,” Ben said. “Companies and stuff who want my endorsement. We keep what we need and give the rest to charity.”
“To the Church?” Zayim asked.
“No. There are other children’s charities.”
Tress laid the sleeping Evan in his crib. “Are you angry at the Children?”
“Very,” Ben said, face set. “They put me through hell, and then made me work for them.”
“I don’t blame you,” Tress said. “Still, I’ve heard they’ve already gotten a couple of investors from off-planet to help in the bail-out. You know, a lot of Silenced monks lost their homes when the Children slashed stipends. The dormitories are filled to overflowing—entire families living in one room. If you hadn’t agreed to be Offspring, they would have had to close even the dorms and throw all those people out onto the walkways. You helped a lot of people, Ben.”
“Maybe,” Ben said. “But only because they put a gun to my head.”
They visited a bit longer before bidding formal good-byes. Tress, the last one out, hung back.
“Let me know if I can help,” she said softly to both Kendi and Ben. “Either with the baby or other things. Just don’t let Mom and Dad and Zayim know. They’re still mad at me for apologizing to you at Grandma’s.”
And then she was gone.
The Dream was definitely noisier. Kendi’s kangaroo ears easily picked up more background whispering, and the place just
felt
more populated. The young Silent weren’t actually in the Dream yet, but they were touching it, dreaming about it with breathtaking realism, sensing something in the air. Kendi remembered his early days when his Silence stirred, though he hadn’t know what it was. “ll he knew was that at night it felt like the world was holding its breath, and if Kendi could just say the right thing or do the right dance or turn the right corner, Something amazing would transport him to a new world, one far away from the frog farm that had enslaved him.
Before him, Outback sand and rock lay baking beneath the hot golden sun, even though it was night in the solid world. Kendi felt restless and uneasy. He shifted his weight, stirring the sandy soil with his tail. It was probably just normal nerves. So much had been going on lately, and he hadn’t had time to sit still and sort it all out. No wonder he felt uneasy.
Kendi closed his eyes and stretched out his mind, sniffing, seeking, listening. He found Bedj-ka. The boy’s mind felt focused, and Kendi guessed he was meditating. A bit more searching turned up Ben, whose mind was filled with both strain and contentment. Ben had been holding Evan when Kendi dropped into his customary meditative pose, but Kendi couldn’t sense Evan’s mind yet. Kendi sighed. Evan’s gene scans said he was Silent, of course, and Kendi should have been able to find at least a trace of him in the Dream. But Kendi felt nothing. There were a number of explanations for this. The Despair had impaired Kendi’s tracking ability. Evan was only a few days old. Kendi’s current edginess made it hard to concentrate. Still Kendi worried. He wanted Evan to be Silent, and he dreaded how the world would react if he turned out to be like Ben was for so long—genetically Silent but unable to enter the Dream. Sejal had pulled Ben into the Dream, awakening his full Silence. Perhaps Sejal could do the same for—
Kendi shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself. Evan wasn’t even a week old and already Kendi was worrying about his future. Did all fathers do this?
The unease increased. Kendi opened his eyes and leaped into the air as a falcon. He turned and dove and swooped, trying to let the exhilaration of flight through the hot updrafts sweep away the stress.
It got only worse. Kendi’s wings shook, and he tumbled briefly before righting himself. Thoroughly unnerved, he forced himself to land and change into a dingo. Kendi sat for a few moments in an attempt to calm down, then he got up and paced. “ll the hair on his body rose, prickling his skin. His breath came in short, quick pants. He had to run, had to get away, get
out
.
Kendi closed his eyes again and tried to summon up his concentration.
If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere,
he thought,
let me...let...
He couldn’t concentrate. The hot sun burned like a bonfire, and pure, unadulterated fear tucked Kendi’s tail between his legs. Kendi changed into a brown-and-white desert skink. The lizard form was much smaller, allowing Kendi to dart under a rock, where he felt slightly more secure. He summoned his concentration.
If it is in my best interest and in the best interest of all life everywhere
, he thought again,
let me leave the Dream
.