Season of Passage, The (55 page)

crewmates feared they were dead.

But fol owing a bril iant plan developed by Professor Ranoth, the other astronauts transformed the tractor into a boat and paddled up the canal to

the island. Once there, they found Brent but not Zossima. Commander Brent said Hummingbird had malfunctioned. While waiting for rescue, he

said, the Russian had wandered off into the dark and gotten lost. They never did find him.

Professor Ranoth was able to repair Hummingbird, but not the Hawk's communication system, which they discovered broken when they got back to

the ship. Commander Brent decided to use what time they had left for further explorations. This time Professor Ranoth and Jessica Brent

accompanied their commander to the island, finding a number of volcanic fissures. But their bad luck continued. The island erupted and their signal

was cut off. Back at the Hawk, Gary and Lauren knew their partners were dead. They had no choice but to blast off. But even that proved difficult.

The Hawk's main generators failed next, and it took two days to repair them. Their long and difficult landing had consumed most of their fuel. After

blast-off, they were only able to attain a shal ow orbit.

Their controls were working poorly. They bumped into the Nova and sheared off its antenna by accident. Eventual y, when they did dock with the

Nova, a fire started in the Hawk. Gary tried to put it out, but the lander exploded and badly injured his arm. They ended up having to jettison the ship,

and Gary eventual y had to have his arm amputated.

Their sorrows were not over. They were on their way home, asleep in the hibernaculums, when Lauren was awakened with an emergency in Mark's

hibernaculum. It had shorted out for some reason and kil ed Mark. Lauren woke Gary up, and they performed a brief ceremony before sending

Mark's body into space. Then, final y, they returned to their hibernaculums and slept away the remainder of the long journey.

They said they were glad to be home.

Terry looked north in the direction of the shuttle landing strip, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. It had only been two days ago that the

shuttle had brought Gary and Lauren down from the station. The public stil thought they were in space. The only reason Terry knew otherwise was

that Dean Ramsey had cal ed him and told him. Lauren hadn't cal ed him. That worried Terry very badly. After al , he had let her sister die.

Terry walked toward the complex.

He was met at the door by an elderly major with thinning white hair and an extremely sunburnt face. The gentleman shook his hand politely and led

him to a smal box-like room separated from a larger room by a sheet of glass. Terry assumed the quarantine was stil in effect. The major left Terry

alone, promising to let Lauren know that he had arrived. Terry began to relax, looking forward to seeing her again. She couldn't hate him, he

thought. She loved him too much to hate him.

Then suddenly she stood in the doorway on the other side of the glass.

She wore a white pleated skirt and a red turtleneck sweater. Her hair was long, much longer than he had ever seen it before, and she was very

pale. To his surprise he saw she was wearing thick makeup, in particular, heavy lipstick. Lauren had always disdained painting her face.

She smiled when she saw him, yet her eyes were dark and cold. Terry wasn't given a chance to stand before she crossed the room and sat down

on the opposite side of the glass. He briefly wondered if the outside sun had made him dizzy, for she moved in a blur.

He was at a loss what to say.

'Lauren,' he said final y. 'It's real y you.'

Her smile didn't change. 'No. It's someone else.'

Terry forced a laugh. 'This is incredible. God, you're home.' He fidgeted in his seat as he fought to keep his eyes from tearing up. 'I thought I was

never going to see you again.'

'It was nice of you to stop by,' she said. She crossed her legs and ran her fingers through her hair. He noticed that her nails were long.

He shook his head. 'It's just so good to see you.' He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. 'This last year has been

dreadful. I thought you were dead.'

For no reason his remarks amused her. She chuckled. 'Did you?'

Terry tried to laugh along. 'You must be happy to be back on Earth. It's been a long time. Two years. Jesus, it's been ages.'

'Yeah.' Lauren grinned and licked her lips in a curiously unpleasant manner. Her tongue was a dark red.

Terry lowered his head. 'I was sorry to hear about what happened to your friends.'

Lauren didn't respond. Her smile remained fixed like something painted on.

'I guess you must miss Jim,' he said, thinking, Jim and Jennifer both. ' 'Jim was a fool,' Lauren said.

'What?'

'Jim was a fool.'

'Why do you say that? Are you al right?'

'Don't I look al right?' Lauren asked.

For the first time Terry looked directly into her face, into her eyes. They were different from the eyes he remembered, darker and larger. Yes, they

were very large. They seemed to fil the room, and for a moment he could see nothing else. But then he began to cough, and couldn't catch his

breath. He felt suddenly anxious, as if the wal s were closing in on him. He tore his eyes away and bent over and gasped for air.

'Are you sure you're OK?' he asked, thinking she should be the one asking the question.

Her smile widened. 'It wasn't so bad. Just a little pinch and then, sweet.' A throaty laugh came out of her mouth. 'Like when I lost my virginity. You

remember when I lost my virginity, don't you?'

Sweet.

And Terry did remember, as if the event were happening that very instant. Of course, neither of them had been a virgin that night, but he caught her

meaning. It had felt as good as the first time. They had been dating two months. They came home late from a movie and she invited him up. Inside

her apartment they sat on the couch and drank coffee with the music down low. Jennifer was sound asleep in the back room. Lauren rested her leg

against his. Wel , here we are, she said. Yeah, he replied. What are you thinking, she asked. How beautiful you are, he said. It was

a great line, it must have been. She fel into his arms and her tongue went into his mouth and neither of them had enough hands to do what they

wanted to do. Their clothes were off in seconds and she groaned and lay back on the couch and spread her legs and it was a sight that made him

groan. Does that feel good, he asked as he climbed on top of her. It feels like candy, she said, and laughed. I love you, Lauren. I love you, Terry.

Love me, Terry.

Yet that was not the way he remembered it right now, not exactly. He was on the couch on top of her, and her thighs were wrapped around his hips.

Only now her sighs of pleasure were screams of pain. He was raping her, and each thrust he made into her made her squirt out bright red blood.

But now he enjoyed himself even more. In spite of her screams, he found the sex much sweeter. He lowered his head over her bel y and the blood

that spurted out between her legs was very sweet indeed.

Stop it! What am I thinking? Jesus Christ.

'Lauren,' Terry whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and stung his eyes. She uncrossed her knees and rested one ankle atop the other. She

wiggled her big toe and shifted her hips more comfortably into the chair. The room swayed with her hips, and he swayed with them, and the taste of

the sweet blood wouldn't leave his mind. He didn't just want to love her, he realized. He wanted to do other things to her, different things.

'Yes, Terry?' she asked gently. Her lips curled back over her white teeth.

'Nothing,' he whispered. The choking sensation returned. He thought he was having a heart attack. His dark lust was drowned in his sudden fear. A

heavy hand pressed his chest, squeezing him tight al the way up to his chin. He briefly closed his eyes, and vomit swel ed from his guts into

his mouth. He swal owed it in disgust, wondering why these things were happening to him, and why she was torturing him with her cold eyes.

'It's because of Jenny,' he said; forcing out the words. 'You're acting this way because of Jenny.' He pressed his face close to the sheet of glass.

'But I didn't know what she had in mind, Lauren, I swear it. The doctor said she was al right. Please listen to me!'

He knew he was losing it, for al the difference it made to her. Lauren stood as a prelude to leaving. Despite his confusion and pain, he couldn't help

but notice how heavy her right arm hung at her side. The wrist also looked as if it had been broken; it was kinked at an awkward angle. She wore a

silver ring he had never seen on her before.

Lauren noticed his gaze, and looked down at her hand. For a moment the irritating smile left her face. She slowly reached out with her left hand to

touch the ring. Then she drew the hand back quickly, as if she actual y had touched it, and found it hot. She looked over at him.

'It could be sweet,' she said. 'Or it can be different.' She put her grin back on, and this time her lips were as thin as blades although when she spoke

next, her voice was weak. 'Goodbye lover. We'l meet again, maybe, and we'l dine together in our favorite place.'

'Lauren, don't go,' he protested, getting up. 'We have to talk.'

But she was gone, so quick he hardly saw her leave. Terry stumbled from his cubicle out into the hal . A pretty, dark-haired girl in running shorts and

a tight T-shirt jogged on a treadmil in his head. She was a doctor, and it was possible she would be going to Mars in a couple of years. He was a

drunk reporter about to kick a nasty habit. Life was good back then. Now it was bad. Terry found a water cooler and bent his head over it and tried

to drown himself.

The old major who had let him in passed by.

'Are you al right, Mr Hayes?'

Terry looked up. 'Yeah. Don't I look al right?'

The major studied his face. He was a shrewd old fel ow. He nodded to himself. 'It's been a long time since you've seen her,' he said. 'I remember

when I was twenty years old and went on an eight-month tour on an aircraft carrier. When I got home my wife didn't even recognize me. We couldn't

talk about a thing. Al we could do was fight. But look at us now, thirty years later. We're stil married.' He patted Terry's shoulder. 'Dr Wagner's been

through a hard time. You come back in a day or two and I'm sure things wil be better.'

Terry figured he must look like a wreck if a complete stranger was worried about his emotional wel -being. On the other hand, staring at the guy's

sunburnt face, Terry was struck by how il the major looked. His skin was a mass of blisters.

'You're right,' Terry said. 'I'l come back another time.' He could lie with the best of them.

The major continued to look him over. 'Hey, you want to come in the back and lie down for a few minutes? You look unsteady on your feet. I don't

want you getting into your car and crashing.'

'No.' He wanted to get far away from the Air Force base as soon as he could. 'I've got to go. I have an appointment.' He walked toward the door that

led to the outside sun. The major tagged along beside him.

'I'l walk with you to your car, then,' the man said.

'It's not necessary. Real y, I'm al right.'

'It's no trouble. I haven't been outside today.' He opened the tinted glass door for Terry, and they stepped outside and into the heat. 'I need the

exercise.'

'Are you sure you shouldn't stay inside?' Terry asked as

they walked toward the parking lot. 'That's a nasty sunburn you've got.'

The man fingered his cheek. 'Yeah, and it's kind of strange. Most of the fel ows here, they hate the sun. But ' not me - I love it. I go for a two-mile walk

every day at lunch just to let the sweat flush out my pores. But yesterday I was only out for a few minutes and got this burn. I don't know, I wasn't

feeling very good. I couldn't seem to catch my wind. Then I looked in the mirror later, and I thought I was looking at a tomato.'

'The desert sun can do that to you,' Terry said absently.

'Yeah, it sure can.'

'Maybe you should have a doctor look at it.'

'That's an idea,' the major said, as they reached the edge of the parking lot. 'Maybe Dr Wagner.'

'Yeah.'

The major suddenly stopped and put his hand over his eyes as he gazed up at the sky. He appeared to tremble. 'Whew,' he said.

Terry stopped. 'What is it?'

'That sun's bright.'

'Get inside,' Terry said. 'Your blisters are getting worse as you stand here. I'l be fine. My car's just over there.'

The man nodded. 'Maybe you're right.' He touched the tip of his nose. 'God, it feels like it's about to peel off.' He turned away. 'You take care, sir.'

'You, too,' Terry said. He watched as the major hurried back to the door. He was practical y running by the time he got there, using both hands to

shade his face. It was as if the man had developed an al ergy to sunlight itself. It made Terry wonder, for a while.

A little pinch and then, sweet.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Three days later Terry Hayes was back in Houston, sitting at the desk in his apartment. He had a bottle of Scotch in the drawer beside him, and he

was going to open it as soon as he finished rereading the newspaper article on his desk, and as soon as the man who had cal ed him while he was

away in California cal ed back. The man's name was Herbert Fry, and on the message tape he said he worked on the space station and wanted to

talk. Herbert also said that Terry should go out and buy a newspaper and read about Lisa Jackson. For a man who didn't give a shit about anything,

including his latest book, Terry took a great deal of interest in what he was rereading. The article was on the second page. He was surprised to