Andrew went as close to Thérèse as he dared. “What now?” he said softly.
She frowned. “We can catch up with her.”
“But she’ll—”
“Come on.” She moved ahead quickly, and both boys followed. The woman stopped walking, lifted a slender white cylinder to her lips, and lit it; she was smoking a cigarette. Then she turned, and saw them.
Her dark eyes were wide. She dropped the cigarette quickly, as if ashamed that they had seen it, grinding it out with her foot. The kobold drew near her protectively. Its white hair was short and its eyebrows bushy; it scowled.
Thérèse, approaching, lifted a hand. “Hello.”
“Hello?” the woman answered. Her greeting seemed tentative. She plucked nervously at her long black hair.
The girl moved closer, glancing at the kobold. It drew itself up, adjusting its red cape. Andrew and Silas kept behind Thérèse. Andrew was not afraid of the woman, only of the android, which might move quickly if it thought its mistress was being threatened. He kept his hands at his sides, palms open, in sight of the small creature.
“What do you want?” the woman asked.
Thérèse said, “We need food and a place to rest. Please help us. We won’t bother you or anything.” The girl’s voice was higher, gentler than the tone Andrew had heard on the road. The woman gazed at Thérèse’s outstretched hands, and her eyelids fluttered; Andrew was sure she had noticed the weapon at the girl’s waist.
The woman straightened. She lifted her head and stuck out her chin, as if ready for a confrontation, but her hands trembled. “What are you doing out here?” Her voice was high and weak.
“We’re running away,” Thérèse said. “We’re experiments.” Andrew tried not to look surprised; Silas was keeping a straight face. “These biologists were testing us. I know they didn’t think they were doing anything mean, but you know how they are. This one man said he’d help us if we got away, so we’re on our way to his place.”
The woman frowned. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“They do a lot they don’t talk about. They can do anything they want, because everybody depends on them. Please don’t give us away.” Thérèse blinked her eyes, as if about to cry.
The woman pressed her hands together. “You poor things. You’d better follow me.”
She led them toward her house. Andrew noticed that she was keeping near her kobold.
The woman’s name was Josepha. The inside of her home smelled musty, as if she had been away and only recently returned. She had questioned them, and Thérèse had mumbled vaguely, avoiding answering.
Now the woman sat under her maple tree with a pad, sketching, while the children sat near the house, finishing the food she had given them. Josepha, although seemingly sympathetic, still kept her kobold at her side. The android faced them, hands at its waist.
“Was that true?” Andrew asked Thérèse.
“Was what true?”
“That story about the biologists.”
“Of course not.” With Josepha in the distance, the girl’s voice was once again low and clipped. “It could be true. They made those things, didn’t they?” She gestured at the kobold; it lifted its head.
“That isn’t the same as experiments with people.”
“What would you know about it?” Thérèse replied. “They made them, they made us, they used the same genetic material. They just make different modifications. What’s the difference?”
“There’s a lot of difference,” Andrew protested, thinking of the dead kobold in the woods near his home. “They’re limited. They can’t do much without direction.”
“I had to tell her something,” Thérèse murmured. “It doesn’t matter whether she believes it or not.”
“Why not?”
“Because she won’t do anything. First of all, we’re kids, so she feels protective. Second, she’s afraid. She won’t do anything that might put her in danger, and that’s why she won’t alert anyone. The older people get, the fewer risks they take. Why do you think she’s hiding away here? She’s afraid. She’ll do what we want. By the time she gets around to checking and finds out we lied, we’ll be long gone. It takes them ages to make up their minds to do something anyway.”
Silas finished his roll and leaned back. “Why take the chance?” he asked.
“I just finished telling you, it isn’t a chance. She doesn’t want to be threatened. I could wing her with this laser before that kobold stopped me, all it’s got is a tranquilizer gun. They’d rather have their life than anything, those people. They beg for mercy; they do anything to avoid death.”
Andrew felt sick. Thérèse’s words were coarse and disgusting.
“Anyway, she’s one of the scared ones,” Thérèse continued. “I saw that right away. I’ve been running longer than you have, I need real food and a good night’s sleep. Don’t worry, I’ve done this before, and no one’s caught me yet.” Her voice was calmer.
“Why’d you run away, Thérèse?” Andrew asked.
She was staring past him, curling her lip. She was very quiet; he could not even hear her breathe. “I had my reasons,” she said at last. She pressed her lips together and was silent.
They slept in Josepha’s living room. That was where the woman had her holo screen and computer. The girl shook them awake at dawn. She had slept on a mat spread out on the carpet, leaving the large sofa to the boys. Andrew picked up his knapsack and hoisted it to his back while Silas yawned and stretched.
“We’d better get going,” Thérèse whispered. She propped Josepha’s drawing pad against the back of the sofa. She had written a message on it:
Dear Josepha,
Thank you for the food, and especially for the bath.
We really are grateful. We’re going to head west now to
find our friend. Maybe he’ll call and thank you himself
when we’re settled. We’ll be thinking of you.
Terry, Simon, and Drew
Andrew had thought they’d been clever with their aliases; now, seeing them written out, they seemed a poor disguise. The words had been scrawled in a large, childish hand. Thérèse had transformed herself for Josepha, becoming a victimized and gentle child; she had played the role so well that even he had almost believed it. He and Silas had been merely the supporting players in the performance.
Thérèse signaled to them. They crept from the house, passing the kobold at the front door. The android looked up. “May I help you?” it asked.
The girl stopped. She seemed sad as she looked at the kobold. She raised one hand slowly and patted the kobold on the head. It smiled. “Is she good to you?” Thérèse asked. “Are you treated well?”
“May I help you? I can guide you to the road.”
The girl drew back. “No, we’re all right. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye. It was nice to see you.” It waved with one small hand.
The three headed across the lawn to the road. “Are we really going west?” Andrew asked.
“Of course not,” the girl answered. “We’re going north. Fewer people.” She paused. “Maybe you two ought to go back. Josepha could get you home.” She said the words stiffly, as if she did not mean them.
Silas said, “We’ll stick with you.”
She seemed relieved. They hiked along the road silently. The morning air was damp and cool; Andrew shivered. He wondered if his parents were looking for him now, if they had found out about the cats. Then he realized that they would probably search south first, because Silas had always talked about how things were better there.
Silas had fallen under Thérèse’s spell. His friend followed her contentedly, as if happy to have found a leader. The ease of his surrender had surprised Andrew. He had thought of Silas as decisive; now he wondered if his friend had ever decided much of anything. His past actions now seemed to be only a surrender to his feelings.
He glanced at the girl as they walked. What would she do if they were found? She seemed desper
ate. He thought of how she had pulled away and slapped him, of how she had talked about death. She knew about him and Silas, but they knew nothing about her. Would she have hurt Josepha if the woman had tried to summon others? The girl had sounded as if she would, yet she had treated Josepha’s android with kindness.
They left the road and began to climb a hill. It was dark under the trees; leaves rustled as they climbed. Thérèse’s pockets bulged with cheese and dried fruit, which she had taken from Josepha; she swayed as she moved. Andrew ached, though not as much as the day before.
Silas moved closer to him. “I keep thinking about my father,” he said between breaths. “He must be worried. I think about it now, and it seems awful. I keep wondering why I didn’t think of it before. I mean, I thought about it, but in a way I didn’t.”
“Does it bother you?” Andrew asked. Thérèse had moved farther ahead of them, setting her feet down heavily and awkwardly as if trying to flatten the earth. Her knees were thrust out; the upper part of her body was bent forward.
“I don’t know,” Silas said. “As long as I don’t have to see it, it’s like it isn’t there. It’s hard to explain. If I went home, I’d see how upset Ben is, and then I’d feel rotten, but here I don’t see it. I know the sooner I go back, the better it’ll be for him, but I’m afraid to go back, because then I’ll have to see him getting mad and upset, and I don’t want to.”
“We have to go back sooner or later,” Andrew murmured.
“I know.” Silas sighed. “I didn’t think of that, either. All I thought about was getting away and wandering around.” He glanced up at Thérèse. Then he looked at Andrew for a moment. His eyes pleaded silently.
Andrew thought: He wants me to decide. Thérèse stopped and turned around, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for them to reach her. For a moment, she looked older, eyes aged and knowing, face set in a bitter smile. The wind stirred the tree limbs above, and shadows dappled her face, forming a mask over her eyes.
In the evening, it began to rain. They found shelter under an outcropping of rock. The rain applauded them as it hit the ground.
Andrew and Silas relieved themselves, pointing their penises at the rain beyond, then sat down. The ground was hard and stony, but dry. They ate their cheese and fruit in silence, then curled up to sleep.
Andrew dozed fitfully. His legs were cramped; if he stretched them, his feet would be in the rain. He stirred, trying to get comfortable. Something pressed against him in the dark.
“It’s me,” Thérèse whispered. He stiffened, afraid. Silas was asleep; he could hear his slight snort as he inhaled. “Just don’t grab at me, that’s all. All right?”
“Sure,” he whispered back.
She pressed her chest against his spine, draping an arm over him. Her body shook slightly and she sniffed. He heard her swallow.
“Thérèse, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crying.”
“No, I’m not.” Her body was still. He turned over on his back, raising his knees, careful not to touch her with his hands, and settled his head against the knapsack. He was growing hard; he covered his groin with one hand, confused, afraid she would notice.
“Listen,” he said softly, “maybe you should go home.” Her hand tightened on his abdomen; he froze, and then went limp. “You could stay at my house first, if you want, or with Silas. They wouldn’t mind.”
“I can’t go home.” He felt her breath on his ear. “Do you understand? Not ever. This isn’t some adventure for me. I’ll always have to hide.”
“But you can’t stay out here.”
“I can. It’s better than what I had. They’ll stop looking when I’m …”
Andrew waited for her to finish. He heard her sigh. She removed her arm. “I won’t give you away,” he whispered. “I promise.”
She was silent. The rain was not as heavy now; the stream of water rushing down the outcropping had become a trickle. I’m your friend, Thérèse. He mouthed the words silently in the dark.
III
They stood at the top of a hill, facing north. The pine trees were thick around them; Andrew could catch only glimpses of the rolling land below.
Thérèse said, “Give me a boost.” Silas cupped his hands; she raised a foot, and he boosted her to a tree limb. She scrambled up and gazed out at the landscape. Andrew watched her, afraid she might fall, and wondered if he should get out of the way. She crouched, hung by the limb with her hands, and dropped to the ground.
“There’s a house down there,” she said. “We can stop there, or go around it.” She bowed her head.
“What do you want to do?” Andrew asked.
“I’m asking you.” She did not look at him. “I’m going to have to move on sooner or later by myself, you know that. I don’t want to get too attached to you.”
Silas looked at Andrew. Andrew did not reply. The girl turned and started down the hill, motioning for them to follow. Andrew thought about Thérèse continuing on her lonely journey. She had traveled alone before meeting them. She could handle herself, but the idea still bothered him.
Why did she have to hide, living on the edge of the world? Maybe she hadn’t lied about being part of an experiment. Once Dao had told him that some people were afraid of the biologists because they were dependent, all of them, on the scientists’ skill. The dependency engendered fear. Thérèse must have made up the story after all.
There were, however, the kobolds and the trolls. He had never thought much about them. He recalled the way Thérèse had looked at Josepha’s kobold, as if she were speaking to a person rather than to a being of limited intelligence. Were the androids aware of what had been done to them? Did dim notions cross their minds before being drowned out by their cybernetic links or the commands of their masters?
Andrew went down the hillside cautiously, avoiding the uneven ground and loose stones. He could now see the house. It was a two-story wooden structure, painted white; it stood a few meters from a dirt road overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. The land immediately around the house was dusty and barren, as if plants refused to take root there. A smaller building, its paint peeling, stood in back of the house.
They came to the bottom of the hill and walked up the road. “I don’t think there’s anyone there,” Andrew said.
The girl glanced at him. “Do you think you could find your way home?” she asked.
“I guess we could. We could always go back to Josepha’s house.”
“You’d have to tell her we lied. It doesn’t matter. I’d have a head start.” They walked over the dusty ground toward the house. The lifelessness of the land around the structure was disturbing. Andrew suddenly wanted to flee.
The front door opened. Something fluttered in the darkness beyond the outer screen door. Andrew moved behind Thérèse. The screen door swung open and a kobold emerged, followed by a woman. She wore a long white dress with a high collar; she crossed the porch and stood on the top step, watching them.
Thérèse held her arms out; the boys did the same. “Hello,” the girl called out.
“Why, hello.” The woman waved. “Come on up here. Let me take a look at you.”
Thérèse hesitated. She balanced on the balls of her feet, as if ready to run. She moved a little closer to the steps. “Come on up,” the woman said again. “Sit here, on the porch. I haven’t had visitors in quite a while.”
They went up the steps and seated themselves on the wicker chairs. The woman rested against the railing in front of them. The kobold stood near her protectively; it carried a silver wand. Andrew frowned; he noticed that Thérèse had also seen the weapon. The android’s blue shirt and pants were wrinkled; its face was marred by a large nose and wide mouth. The woman beamed, unafraid.
“You poor things,” the woman said. “You look as though you’ve had quite a trip.”
“We have,” Thérèse said. Now that Andrew was closer to the woman, he could see her face. There was
something wrong with it; deep lines were etched around her mouth and eyes, and her jowls shook slightly as she spoke. Her skin was rough and yellowish. Even her hair was strange. She had pulled it back from her face, showing the gray streaks around her forehead and ears.
“Your face,” Andrew blurted out before he could stop himself.
The woman glared at him for a moment, then smiled again. “You think it’s ugly,” she said slowly. “You think it’s odd. Not all of us want to look twentyish. I like to look my age.” She chuckled, as if she had made a joke. “What are all of you doing way out here?”
Thérèse licked her lips. “We’re running away.”
“Running away. How sad. I suppose you must have a reason.” She held up her hand. “You needn’t tell me what it is. People are so thoughtless. I wouldn’t let any children of mine run away. You look as though you could use a good meal. Come on inside.”
She led them into the house. The front room was small, but clean. Lace doilies covered the arms of the worn blue sofa and chairs; two heavy brass lamps stood on end tables. The desk computer and holo screen were against the wall.
“You just sit down and take it easy. My name’s Emily. I’ll go get you something from the kitchen.” She squinted. “You’re not wearing your Bonds.”
“Of course not,” Thérèse said. “We’re running away.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll come with you.” They followed the woman to the kitchen and sat at the small wooden table while Emily punched buttons on her console.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Emily said, turning to face them while the food was materializing. “You thought I might have a communicator here. You thought I’d send for someone. Well, I won’t. I didn’t move out here so that I could have people dropping in all the time. I don’t like people.” She grinned. “I like children, though. If you want to go running around the countryside, that’s fine with me, but you can stay here as long as you like.”
The Golden Space Page 17