Paradox Lost

by Libby Drew

  The doors opened to a busy intersection, and as though they were moths released from a child’s Mason jar, the riders scattered in all directions. Saul stepped out behind them, slipping his sunglasses over his face. He’d been offered self-tinting contacts, but he’d asked for more traditional eye protection. Some habits were fun to break. Others he’d chosen to keep.

  “There you are.”

  Saul’s heart gave a stuttering beat, and he turned with a smile on his face. “Right on time, like I promised.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Why?” Saul strode across the sidewalk to where Reegan sat sprawled on a bench, feet crossed at the ankle. His wardrobe rarely varied. The khaki pants. His hat. Out of step with contemporary fashion, the ensemble lent him a wild, untamed look. Identified him as a man out of his natural element. Which, Saul supposed, he was, at least in 2145. “Did you think I’d get lost?”

  “Just distracted. I know the feeling, remember?”

  Saul sat beside him, blocking his shoulder against Reegan’s. “It might be the first time they’ve let me out of my cage, but I know my way around here.” He glanced around him. “At least I used to.”

  Reegan’s visits had proven essential to Saul’s sanity, his steady, grounding influence washing away the lingering sense of disorientation. As he’d gained his feet, adapted to the modern world, Reegan’s presence reminded him he had something to live for.

  Today that security, that promise of a bright future, might be stripped away. Dwelling on that eventuality was useless, but he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. Trying to banish his dark thoughts, Saul twined his fingers through Reegan’s. Their first skin-to-skin contact since parting on the evening of their return to 2145.

  I missed you. He strangled the words behind his tongue. Their initial bond had been forged in a matter of hours, and the ensuing weeks apart had him questioning the intensity of those feelings. They’d kept their conversations light and impersonal during quarantine. He had no idea if Reegan felt anything other than passing affection for him anymore.

  Emotion, always close to the surface these days, tightened his throat.

  “Are you okay?” Gentle fingers turned Saul’s face. “You look tired.”

  Saul shrugged. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

  His physical aches and pains were healed. Saul now knew more about advanced medical techniques than any person who wasn’t a doctor had any right to. The required schedule of vaccines and boosters alone had made his head spin.

  “Yeah?” Reegan’s fingers dipped into his hair, stroking along the scalp. “Why don’t we forget about the sightseeing then and head back to my place?”

  Saul refused to let the rush of relief show. If this was his last day with Reegan, he didn’t want to spend it looking at monuments and museums. “Are you okay with that?”

  A brief smile touched Reegan’s lips. “I thought I’d ask politely before kidnapping you.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Reegan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Come on. It’s not far.”

  The strangeness of holding another man’s hand for all the world to see faded when no one appeared to care. They strolled together down the street, Reegan’s arm around his waist. Nobody gave them a second glance.

  They passed an open-air shopping plaza, vendors showcasing their wares in shifting, colorful holographic displays. As Reegan had claimed that night in Walmart, Saul didn’t see a single physical piece of merchandise anywhere. “How long would it take to get something? If I buy it here.”

  Reegan’s pace slowed in response to Saul’s question. He turned to survey the market. “It depends. A day. Maybe two. Immediately, in some cases, if the product has a digital footprint and can be produced with a 3D printer.”

  Saul shook his head, awed. The next century had birthed fantastic advances. In others, as Silvia had explained, the changes held a sinister quality. In that way, society evolved exactly as it always had. In a heady rush of excitement with little thought to its fate.

  Reegan tugged on his fingers. “Coming?”

  He led Saul to a building with a curved glass front. Foliage sprouted from the sides of the structure. It wasn’t the first time Saul had seen such a thing. His view from his hospital window proved the greenery-covered buildings were more normal than not. “What is all that? The plants,” he clarified when Reegan looked curiously to where he pointed.

  “This century’s answer to global warming. One of them, anyway. It’s a continuous replenishment system. Environmental scrubbing. Those are trees, actually. Pygmy hybrids. Their sole function is carbon sequestering. And they’re pretty.”

  Saul snorted. “Do they really help?”

  “Every little bit helps.” Reegan’s fingers danced up the inside of his arm. “Can we go inside now?”

  Saul tore his eyes away from the forested building to meet Reegan’s heated gaze. “I’m ready when you are.”

  They entered through a modest lobby. The glass walls to either side showcased lighted tunnels leading into the interior of the structure. Saul’s steps faltered when he caught sight of a sleek vehicle streaking by in his peripheral vision. “Is there a parking garage below this level?”

  “There’s nothing below this level except the mother of all sump pumps.”

  “Then—” Saul turned to point at another car passing beyond the glass, “—where are they going?”

  “Home.” Reegan led him into an elevator. Instead of facing the cityscape, the glass front looked into the center of the building. High above, a clear dome allowed sunlight to spear downward and glint off the hundreds of shiny vehicles parked inside of the vast cylindrical shaft. Saul felt his stomach do a slow roll as they began to ascend. “Your building’s hollow.”

  Reegan shot him the same indulgent look Saul imagined he’d given Reegan more than once while in 2020. “It’s not hollow.” He made a circle with his finger. “The apartments make up the outer shell of the building. We park on the inside. Every unit has at least one space, some have two.”

  “How do they get up there?” Not prone to vertigo, the sight of thirty stories’ worth of parked cars still made him queasy.

  “Lifts. Look.” Reegan pointed across the shaft. A car descended past them, perched on a flat platform just slightly larger than itself.

  “That doesn’t look safe.”

  “It is. I promise.”

  The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor, opening onto more glass and metal.

  “This is us.”

  Us. Not me. Saul’s shoulders lost some of their stiffness. If Reegan noticed his slip, he didn’t let on.

  Bachelor pads hadn’t changed. The toys were bigger—one entire wall of the living room was made up of LCD panels—and the furniture more streamlined. But the kitchen sink still held dirty dishes. A half-finished cup of coffee cooled on a cluttered counter. A small pile of laundry took up one corner of the hallway. For all its modern advances, this was a home. Reegan’s home. Saul felt immediately at ease.

  Reegan hung his hat on a hook by the door and swept his flattened hair off his forehead. “It’s not much.”

  Saul turned at the careful tone. “I’ve never needed much.”

  “The, uh, windows are big.” Reegan slung his hands into his pockets and turned to frown out the wall of glass. Saul couldn’t be bothered to look anywhere but at his host.

  “The view’s nice,” he agreed.

  The tone caught Reegan’s attention. His answering smile swept away the last of Saul’s misgivings. “Glad you approve.”

  “I’d approve of a bedroom. Do you have one of those?”

  “Right this way.” Two strides brought Reegan to his side. He slung an arm around Saul’s waist, lifting him against his chest in a tight hug. Saul turned his head for a kiss just as a chime sounded. A voice followed the bell, filtering through the same set of speakers. Silvia’s. “Anybody home?”

  Reegan growled into Saul’s neck. “That woman h
as the devil’s timing.”

  “But the voice of an angel,” Saul reminded him.

  Grumbling, Reegan stalked to the front door, throwing it open. The hallway was empty, but on the other side, through the glass wall, the parking atrium glittered. Saul started as a car lifted into view a moment later, borne upward silently on its metal platform, and stopped in front of Reegan’s front door. It boasted a shiny silver shell and black tinted windows. Its curves gave it a playful feel, one different to the sharp angles and points Saul had noticed on most twenty-second century vehicles.

  Reegan pushed through a glass door that connected the hallway to the parking platform. It opened with a swish, breaking the airtight seal between the two spaces. “You’re lucky you got here when you did.”

  “I can only imagine.” Silvia stepped from the car, waving at Saul over Reegan’s shoulder. “You’ll just have to wait a little longer.” She bumped his arm with her tiny shoulder as she rushed past, heels clicking on the floor. “There he is!” She flew into Saul’s embrace. “How are you?”

  “Fine. Thanks.” He held her close for a long moment. “How about you?”

  “Surviving. Busy.” New lines had formed around the edges of her eyes, but her smile was bright. “I won’t stay long. Promise. May I come in?”

  Saul had managed to wrangle his sexual frustration for two weeks. Another few minutes wouldn’t kill him. And as with everything he might soon be leaving behind, he needed to say goodbye to Silvia. “Sure.”

  She glided into Reegan’s living room. “I brought you something.” She tossed Reegan a small round tin.

  “What’s this?” He pried at the top.

  “A distraction, hopefully. I’d like a few minutes of privacy with Saul.”

  “Why?”

  “I promise I’m harmless. Your man is safe with me.”

  “Your track record isn’t the best in that regard. And he just got sprung today. I’m not sure—hey, are these oatmeal?” He stared long and hard at the stacks of lumpy cookies.

  “Yes, and they’re fresh. From the shop on Constitution. Made by hand and baked in an oven.”

  Reegan arched a skeptical brow. “Get out.”

  “I swear to God.”

  Watching Reegan drool over fresh cookies reminded Saul why he’d fallen for the guy in the first place. “It’s fine.” He shooed Reegan away. “Go on.”

  Throwing Saul an apologetic glance, Reegan gestured at the doorway leading off the living area. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

  Saul dropped onto the sofa as Reegan started down the hall, tin cradled in his hands. “I thought that was a myth. The way to a man’s heart being through his stomach.”

  “In this case, the way to the man’s man was through his stomach.” She laughed, the sound higher and more carefree than Saul remembered. “If Reegan’s anything like Payne was, he can’t resist a homemade oatmeal cookie.” She tugged at her scarf, and it slipped from her neck, leaving her in a simple black shift dress. “They were less than a year apart in age, did you know? But very different boys. And I imagine they would have been vastly different men, had Payne lived.”

  Wistfulness colored her tone. Saul snagged her fingers and urged her to sit. “You knew Payne pretty well.”

  “I suppose I was a little bit in love with him.” Silvia sighed, slipping off her shoes and tucking her bare feet under her. “He drew such beautiful pictures. I still have some. I’ll have to bring them for Reegan to see.”

  “He’d like that.”

  “You still haven’t heard anything? About your asylum?”

  Saul shook his head while Silvia nibbled away at her manicure. “But I understand you testified on my behalf. Thank you.”

  “Thank me if we get the answer we want.”

  Reminded once more of the ticking clock, Saul frowned. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Silvia dropped her hands to her lap. “Lisa.”

  Oh no. Lisa was still a gaping wound in his heart. This wasn’t a talk he was ready to have. Not with himself. And certainly not with this woman. “Silvia, I can’t do this right now. I’ve got—I need to get through the next day first.”

  “That’s why we’re doing this now. I’ve some things I need to say, and I’m not sure I’ll have another chance to say them. You don’t need to talk unless you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll tell you a story. The story of me.”

  “Why would you do that?” Although he knew exactly why. His face went red and hot at the obvious deflection.

  Silvia tilted her head, eyes flashing with empathy. “I’ll keep it brief. You’ve heard some of it. At Cammie’s, and I know other parts have been all over the net since Victor’s death.”

  He’d spent hours watching the news in the hospital. Virtual immersion had left him nauseated at first. Being right there while the story happened challenged the brain on several levels. He found keeping a safe emotional distance impossible, and the implications of that—how it might deaden a person’s sensitivity over time—haunted him. Eventually he’d forsaken the virtual headset for an old-fashioned 3D screen, a format he felt better prepared to handle. “I’ve seen some of it.”

  “Have you visited res district three? That’s where Reegan and I grew up.”

  “Not yet. This is the first time they’ve let me out.”

  Silvia twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “You should. If you have the chance.”

  “I get the feeling he might be reluctant to show me.” He couldn’t say why. Reegan hadn’t outright refused, but when Saul had mentioned it, during one of their short visits last week, Reegan had turned the tide of the conversation in a masterful way. Only later did Saul realize he’d been neatly sidetracked.

  “Not all memories are worth keeping.” She clapped her hands together. “So, the bare bones. I grew up poor. I was an average student. Didn’t study enough when the subject matter bored me. I applied to college. That was my mother’s dream more than mine, I think. Not many of us made it. Reegan did, obviously. There must have been others. There should have been more.”

  Payne. Silvia left it unsaid, so Saul respectfully let the subject alone.

  “I got into a couple of schools, but no aid came my way. After that, my best hope should have been steady hourly work, but I was lucky enough to be attractive and have a decent voice.”

  “More than decent, from what I hear.”

  That earned him a fond smile. “Those two things propelled me into something just slightly better. I moved to Georgetown, but not because I got into school there. That’s Reegan’s story. No, they wanted me because I was cheap entertainment for a group of privileged young adults. As long as they kept coming to the Tabby Kitten to do that, I was able to pay my rent.”

  Safe subject matter. Lulled into letting his guard down, Saul leaned against the armrest and lifted his legs up beside him. Silvia must have considered the move an invitation. Smoothing her dress, she tucked her ice-cold toes beneath his calves. He hissed and shot her a dirty look.

  A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “I sang five nights a week for three years. Three years of dodging drunk frat boys so I could scrape enough money together to buy food. Then I met someone.”

  He didn’t care for the wonder in her voice, as though she’d seen God himself.

  “D’arco.” Saul practically spit the name.

  She wiggled her toes. “Yes. He was different from the start. A real gentleman. He treated me well. Like a queen, at first. And believe me, I wasn’t used to that. He convinced me I had value. My opinions mattered. My experiences moved him.”

  “So?”

  A disapproving frown tugged her lips downward, and Saul waited for whatever backlash his words brought. She held her tongue, shedding Saul’s vitriol with a shake of her shoulders, as though a bee had landed on her. “He was a bit of a hero himself, in some ways. I saw him save a child once. He shielded her with his own body, even though he could’ve died himself. He didn’t think twice.”

  The
re was little Saul could say to that.

  “We fell in love. And when he asked, I married him. It was more than a romantic partnership. The best relationships are, I think. He and I believed in the same things. Wanted to help the same people. Fix the system.”

  This in no way matched Saul’s image of D’arco. “Don’t stop now. I wouldn’t want to miss the end of the fairy tale.”

  “As with most fairy tales, this one ended badly. I’ll fast-forward. Victor had his faults. Some serious. I knew that going in, but I had that same dream lots of people do. That I could change him. Take his pain and…cruelty away. It took me a while to realize I couldn’t.”

  “Which is when you should have packed your bags and got the hell out of there.”

  She said nothing for a long time. “Simple words. Not so simple a task.”

  “How can a smart, reasonable, self-confident woman be so stupid?”

  “Are you sure that question’s for me?”

  Or course it wasn’t for her. He’d voiced it silently whenever Lisa defended her decision to stay. And every time she had, he’d folded, taking her at her word. He won’t hurt me again. He knows the consequences. He’s committed to changing. This will be the last time.

  “You know that place you were staying back in 2020? The safe house? I spent some time there myself. I talked to those women. They all had a reason. Even—” He poked at one dainty foot. “Even when they were running for their lives, hiding, they would rationalize. Make themselves forgive.”

  “But not forget,” Silvia said, voice pitched so low Saul had trouble hearing her answer. “Forgiveness is part of healing. Don’t condemn someone for wanting to heal.” She made a dismissive sound. “I’m not going to speak for those other women. You’re right. They each have a different story. They all shared at least one thing, though, I know from experience.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Doing what’s best for ourselves isn’t easy. It’s pretty damn hard, in fact, especially when there are other people in the mix.”

  “Bullshit.”