by Clara Ward
In the awkward silence that followed, the lock, on which Oliver had refocused his attention, clicked open. He looked up with a stifled grin.
“You did it!” Sarah smiled with tears in her eyes, tangled in emotions of the moment. More slowly she said to James, “I guess I’m glad you told me. And it’s good you figured out more of this. I hadn’t heard anything about amplifiers.”
“I don’t think Knockham looked for them. He’s more interested in the symbiotes and how the system functions. Now that I’m somewhat accepted by this community, I’m going to see if we can pool some of our research.”
“So you’re going to stay a mover and give up the other telepathy?” Oliver asked with tentative approval.
“I think so, even if I’m not a very good mover.”
“Never know ‘til you try.” Oliver passed James the palm lock and ink print.
“That reminds me,” James said, “I have a letter for you, Sarah.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She tore the flap and read:
Dear Sarah,
I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person. Watching what James has endured to be trusted by these people and how limited his new ability seems, I see no point in experimenting without new zoots. Phil has offered me a position with PAD as I am. Whether I’m a token new teep or it’s truly the start of a new order, that’s where I most belong right now. Good luck with your wedding and your new life. Remember I’ll always be here if you need me.
Love, Howard
“Was Howard okay when he left?” Sarah asked. She remembered him standing in the bedroom doorway, leaving flowers, and she wondered if he’d had something to say that was lost in the chaos of that morning.
James shrugged and turned his hands palm up.
Oliver hesitated and said, “He talked with me out in the pottery shed the day before. The whole silence thing, the other mind readers being able to hear James’s thoughts—I think he felt bad, left out.”
“I can sympathize with that,” Sarah said.
“I know, but he was still a teep, too. Had he ever been where there was no one he could hear before?”
“So he decided he couldn’t give it up,” Sarah sighed.
“Interesting. I hardly miss it,” James shrugged, examining the palm lock.
“Some people—Wait, if you studied my genetics after all this news came out, what about my mother?” Sarah asked.
“I can identify three sequences you must have inherited from her: ‘B,’ ‘1,’ and ‘3’. She could have been a teep. But that’s not enough—“
“Could she have been an animal person?”
“Sure. With a ‘C’ and another ‘1’.”
“How likely is it?”
“Hard to say. Do you have reason to suspect—“
“Suspect what?” lilted a new voice coming up behind them. This time they didn’t jump, but Sarah was shaking her head as she turned toward Aliana.
“Oh nothing. Let dead people keep their secrets.”
“Well, that’s a cheerful thought for someone who’s getting married in three days. Care to try on your dress?” Aliana asked.
“What dress?”
“Some of us have been preparing for this wedding while you were off gallivanting and conspiring.”
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to—”
Aliana dropped her serious manner like a dirty dishrag and replaced it with a welcoming smile. “Don’t be. I enjoy costuming and production. Planning a wedding, especially yours, has been a lark. Still, if you’d like to be a tad bit involved . . .”
“Gotta run guys.” Sarah shrugged, stood, and leapt off the rock. Aliana looped an arm over her shoulders as they walked.
On August 20th, the household crawled like an anthill. The wedding was to be in the afternoon, looking out over the ocean, and though she was the bride, Sarah felt like a smell-blind ant. She tried to help chop vegetables in the kitchen, but was quickly told to fill a platter and distract her guests outside. The only guests so far were Phil and Dr. Knockham who had appeared at breakfast, greeted Sarah and Reggie, then sat elsewhere.
Sarah wasn’t even sure whether Knockham was here for her wedding, to meet with James, or as Phil’s guest.
The two of them were still seated, chatting silently at a cleared breakfast table while every other surface in the room was busy with hors d’oeuvre creation and flower arranging. Vegetable platter in hand, Sarah dutifully led the way outside, where she nearly ran into the Johnsons, as they pulled a shiny rental car up very close to the front door.
“Emma!” Sarah caught her friend in a one armed hug as she piled out of the car. She teeked the vegetable tray to keep it stable on her other hand. “No one told me you were coming.”
Emma’s hair had been cut into stylish, sophisticated layers, but she smiled so big her tongue stuck out, belying any adult image. “I can’t believe you’re getting married!”
Reggie swept over from setting out chairs, just as Phil introduced himself and Leonard to Samuel and Ira. Sarah realized she’d forgotten them, even as she marveled at how precisely Phil fit with the Johnsons. They nodded and smiled with matching tilts of the head. Phil’s and Samuel’s shirts seemed to be of the exact same fabric and cut. Knockham in his khaki blazer and Ira, wrapped in Thai hill tribe weaves, seemed eccentrically confidant in unique, but similar, ways.
Reggie whispered, “Surprise,” as he took the vegetable tray and led them all to a circle of chairs. Aliana appeared with sandwiches, tea, and water, and soon James joined them, like it was a reunion. There followed a long discussion of public sentiment and politics since Broadcast Day, which Sarah was eager to hear, but kept forgetting to listen to as she glanced around the circle or caught glimpses or preparations beyond.
“Something is still stirring in Bangkok’s Chinatown,” Samuel said. The roll of his voice, as sure as ever, offset the puffiness around his eyes and new creases below his mouth. “The way they caved in to keep your PAD pictures secret may be the best evidence that they’re part of something larger, something that still doesn’t want any publicity.”
“We may strive for openness in science,” Knockham said, “But I doubt we’ll ever see it in politics.”
Samuel let out a huff, “With all that’s happened to Davies—”
“What’s an American president without a special investigator?” Phil nodded at Samuel as if they were confidantes, and Samuel nodded back.
Somewhere in this discussion Emma and Aliana slipped away. Sarah was tempted to go look for them, but she also wanted to stay with Reggie and felt some obligation to the other guests.
Then Reggie’s parents arrived, with an enormous rental car full of shopping bags and boxes wrapped in white ribbons. Sarah followed Reggie out to meet them, and he had barely said, “This is Sarah,” before they started eyeing her like a fortuitously split geode.
“So you’re Reggie’s sweetheart,” Mr. Malone said, removing the leather cap he’d worn while driving and inclining his head. “I knew he’d choose well. Now are you sure you want him?”
“Oh, darling! I’m so glad to meet you!” Mrs. Malone cooed, rushing forward and kissing her cheek. “Not having met you, and seeing as there’s no registry, I wasn’t sure what you’d like . . .” With an airy wave at the packages in the car, she began a travelogue about shopping in Iraq and Ireland.
“What were they doing in Iraq?” Sarah whispered to Reggie as they guided his parents toward the other guests.
“Phil hinted they should be someplace not too cozy with the U.S. for a few weeks while we were reorganizing PAD, and I had to find a country with decent tourist facilities.”
“I never thought of it as a shopping destination, and didn’t you tell them no presents?”
“You’ve a lot to learn about your new mother-in-law.”
When Doug came by shortly before the ceremony, Sarah was more than a little relieved. “If you’ll excuse the wedding couple, they need to prepare now.”<
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Doug walked with them halfway to the house, then stopped and spoke. He was dressed in his white robe and his hair was tied back in a woven clasp. “Here are your new EU passports, with your new names. They should simplify travelling a bit.”
“Wow, Thailand only managed temporary residence papers, and we were there for months,” Sarah said.
“Thanks,” said Reggie.
“After you dress for the wedding, it is traditional for the couple to walk the circle trail beyond the clearing and remain out of sight until you hear the violin music which will mark the start of the ceremony.”
Doug gestured them toward the house, and Sarah wondered how many other traditions she was unaware of. As the nervousness of the day poured through her like ice water, Sarah hurried inside where she found Aliana and Emma waiting to help her change.
“I like it,” Emma said, as Sarah pulled on the filmy dress with its floating layers of silk. “But why’s it green?”
It was a very pale green. Sarah had wondered about that when Aliana first dragged her in for a fitting, but she hadn’t dared to ask. Besides, she’d been quickly distracted by how pleasant it was to wear. Aliana had sewn a smooth lining so there were no scratchy seams. It was the only formal clothing Sarah had ever enjoyed putting on.
Now Sarah looked to Aliana who said, “Doug, the Druid who’s officiating, told me her dress should be green. I figure it’s one of their traditions. I chose a quite light green as a compromise with the standard Western white, and because I think Sarah looks stunning in pale colors. Then there’s the veil.”
Aliana lifted from a box the headdress and veil she’d personally crafted to cover Sarah’s still ravaged scalp.
“It’s gorgeous!” Emma squeaked.
“I agree,” said Sarah. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
Aliana paused a moment looking Sarah full in the face, “The funny thing is, you love all these people and we love you, but you never quite realize how much.”
Sarah didn’t know what she could say to that, but she hugged Aliana. Then she hugged Emma, and then she went to find Reggie so they could begin their walk around the property.
“Up here is where they bury people, to rid them of new zoots,” Sarah said as they looped almost to the end of the path.
“I’m glad you aren’t planning to bury me tonight.”
“Fringe benefit of marrying a teek.”
Then they both stopped short. There was someone standing in front of the great tree at the foot of the covered pit, a wrinkled old man in a green twill vest. Sarah’s mouth fell open and her eyes seemed to nearly burst, but the words escaped her mouth nonetheless, “Mr. O’Reeley? What are—How could—”
With a quaint old bow and a frog-like smile, the little man said, “I’ve come to wish you luck on your wedding day.”
“The luck of the Irish?” Reggie quipped.
“Or something smaller.”
“The luck of the leprechauns, perhaps?” Reggie asked, and Sarah shifted uncomfortably as the men sized each other up.
O’Reeley tipped his hat and said, “There are more things in heaven and earth than dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“You’re not going to claim you wrote that?”
“Course not, it was an Englishman.”
Sarah recovered her voice to say, “But if you’re still alive, I should give the money—”
“Nonsense. Things are as I intended.” He gazed at her, and Sarah saw laugh lines deepen around his eyes and mouth, making her smile as well.
“But why?” she asked.
The strange man gave an elaborate shrug. Sarah looked toward Reggie and caught his eye. As they looked forward again there was no one between them and the tree. O’Reeley was gone from sight, but a scent of vanilla and cloves lingered.
“You spoke strangely to him,” Sarah murmured.
“I can’t quite explain. Something about the way he moved. It wasn’t like the teeps, or you, or anyone else I remember seeing. But, there was something very peculiar about him.”
“Maybe if we’d let you get rid of the new zoots already, let you be fully a spotter—”
“Or maybe not. If I could tell so easily as I am, and I’m sure I’ve never seen anyone like that, not even before I learned to spot teeps, then what more could we have learned?”
What more? Sarah’s mind boiled with questions. Had her first meeting with O’Reeley been mere chance? Had he known this time how Reggie would react?
“Doug sent us out here. We’ll ask him after the ceremony.”
“We can ask,” Reggie said.
When the violin music started, Reggie and Sarah walked out from the forest. Doug stood on the cliff, just in front of the sea, tall and regal in his full white robes. There were poles holding flowers standing in a circle from behind the Druid, all around the guests, to the farthest edges of the center aisle. Two baskets full of rose petals stood by the two front poles. As the wedding couple approached, petals flew up from the baskets and scattered along the walkway, almost as if a sudden breeze had moved them.
When they reached the front and Doug began to speak, Sarah noticed the flowers perched above them seemed to rearrange themselves ever so slightly. Then the Druid had the couple light a candle to symbolize their unity, and the flame appeared a moment before it should have and briefly rose high in a tenuous double spiral. Sarah couldn’t help but glance at Oliver, sitting a couple seats back on the right. He winked at her, and the significance of his gift brought tears to her eyes.
The ceremony moved forward as she and Reggie made their vows. There was no more telekinesis until Reggie pulled back Sarah’s veil, and some invisible hand seemed to smooth the lower edge into place. Then Sarah was kissing her husband, and the kiss was both innocent and newly intimate.
Sarah was burstingly happy, though she couldn’t remember a word that was said during the ceremony or as people came to hug and kiss her afterward.
When she finally caught up with Oliver he was ladling punch from a crystal bowl. Within it floated a sculpted swan. Sarah guessed it was not really ice even before it craned its neck to gaze at her.
“Having fun?” she asked him.
“Isn’t everyone?”
“I’m certainly happy.”
“You should be. You’re the bride. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Then the household’s string quartet began to play, and Sarah and Reggie were called upon to dance. For the second song Sarah danced with James. He overcame his usual awkwardness and proved a competent partner. Sarah felt tears in her eyes as she realized once again, she had a father.
After that she danced with Mr. Malone, Samuel Johnson, Phil, Oliver, and Dr. Knockham. When she thought it might be time to rest, Aliana and Emma requested music for a step dance. Worrying for a moment about her layered and gauzy wedding dress, Sarah realized that when Aliana chose costumes, she was used to taking dance steps into account. But as they were dancing Sarah caught sight of a ship sailing into the bay. Its main sail was square and golden; its outline that of a Chinese junk. As the Irish tune ended, she went to the cliff to look down. Others came too, and they watched the curious boat tie up at the dock.
Oliver and two other teeks had gone down to meet the strange craft. Just before they reached it a figure in a satiny white shirt and bow tie walked to the bow, raised an arm in a dramatic wave toward Sarah and called out, “I’ve come to dance at your wedding.”
Sarah could barely piece together the words over the sound of surf, but something in the luxuriant stretch of body and arm made her quite sure the mariner was Tom. She glanced at Reggie, who happened to be standing near the Johnsons and asked, “Did you know Tom was coming?”
They all shook their heads. She remembered her first impression of him as a Tommy Goth snake in Belize. She felt the reptilian threat, though the snake usually shot from tree branches above its victim, and Tom was currently far below her on the bay.
“You think it
’s all right?” she asked.
“It’s your call,” Reggie answered.
Shaking her head, Sarah waved for them to come up.
By the time the new arrivals reached the wedding, music had resumed and people were trying not to stare. Sarah and Reggie went to greet Tom and the two strangers who accompanied him.
“You do show up in the most surprising places,” Reggie said as they shook hands.
“My life story would not be complete if I missed your special day.” Tom paused to give Sarah a quite familiar hug and kiss. “Sarah and Reggie, let me introduce Jan and Eric, my biographers.”
Jan and Eric shifted a little uncomfortably at the introduction but shook hands and offered congratulations.
“So Tom, I’m sure you have some story to share,” Sarah prompted.
“Yes, but you must dance with me to find out.” With that he proffered his arm and Sarah went with him toward the music.
The dancing had calmed to a waltz, and Tom leaned in with suave attentiveness to nearly whisper in Sarah’s ear. “Remember those nice people from EU News? The ones who let Reggie borrow their plane and pilots to rescue you?”
“PAD traded them exclusive access to the island for that.” Sarah smiled as Reggie danced by with Emma.
Tom waited until they were out of earshot to say, “It’s true. But they’re news people. They’ve pieced together most of that rescue story, several of the plot lines that connect to PAD and Broadcast Day, as well as our little adventures in Belize and Cambodia.”
“Pieced together or were told?”
“The point I’m making is,” Tom paused but kept them moving and gave her waist a little squeeze, “They plan to make a TV miniseries of your life. They’re willing to pay you well for your help.”
“Do you imagine I’d want a movie made about my life? I’ve spent most of it trying to go unnoticed.”