by Edward Aubry
Harrison found this remark intriguing. "You know," he said, "one of the things I had been planning to ask you, when I finally met you, before it turned out that you hated me …" He paused for her to interrupt him, but she waived the opportunity. He went on. "Why do you only play music from the sixties and seventies? I mean, I'd think you'd try to draw in as diverse a population as possible, and yet it seemed like you were targeting a specific demographic. Don't get me wrong," he added. "The stuff you were playing was exactly what I wanted to hear. I love that stuff. It's what my parents played at home all the time. My friends' music, whatever was current when I was growing up, never really spoke to me. It just struck me as odd, like you were playing those songs just for me."
Claudia stood up. "See?" she said. "This is why I find you creepy." She started to leave.
"Claudia, wait."
She turned on him. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," he said. He did not really want to hear whatever she was about to say, but his sour relationship with this girl had nagged him from the very beginning, and if this was some kind of opportunity to truly communicate with her, he was willing to risk further abuse.
She paused then, perhaps surprised that he was willing to hear her out. "When I started this radio gig," she said, "I expected it to be incredible fun. I'd get to be a celebrity. People would be showing up from hundreds of miles in every direction just to meet me." She stopped there, and for a second, Harrison thought she might not go on. "Then they actually started showing up. And you know what happened?" Harrison shook his head. "Most of them were great. We started building a community faster than any of us thought would be possible, and it was fantastic. There was just one downside. For me, that is. Every day I got to meet some asshole who had fallen in love with me. Some of them were sweet, in a pathetic, psycho sort of way, but a lot of them were bitter. You see, each one had built up this fantasy that we were going to be that last two people on Earth, and that it was going to be up to us to repopulate the planet. So when they got to New Chicago and found out that I wouldn't be the Eve to their Adam, they were pretty unkind about it. Not to mention their specific disappointment that I didn't turn out to be some desert-island sex kitten. And don't even get me started on the race thing." She gave him a hard look. "Do you think I sound blonde?" Harrison shook his head nervously. "Well, you're about the only one. If I had nickel for every son of a bitch who freaked out when his blonde bunny turned out to be the Afro-Brazilian chick …" She paused. Harrison guessed she was recovering from her digression. "Then you showed up out of nowhere. Alec had already scanned the building and said it was empty, because he knew that I was getting uneasy about running into fans. So, suddenly, you're there, which is like, impossible, looking all dirty and spaced out …"
"And you thought I was going to hurt you."
"I thought you were a facer! I thought you were some damn demon, come right through the inhibitor, and you were going to eat me! Then Alec comes in and tells me you're human. Do you have any idea how pissed I was at that moment?" Harrison shook his head. "I hated you for doing that to me. I was so glad when they hauled you away. Then Alec comes to me two days later and tells me you have the same thing I have, and that he was going to recruit you, and it was like my life was over. I hated you. You made it pretty easy to keep hating you, too. You are kind of an asshole, you know."
Harrison shrugged. "I guess so," he said. He thought back on the numerous times he had seized opportunities to inconvenience or irritate her. She had brought out the petty, spiteful weasel in him. "I can be." She nodded, then stared at him for a moment before looking away. "Can I tell you something about myself?" he asked. "I'll try not to be creepy, but you can decide for yourself, and if you think I am, I'll leave you alone."
She folded her arms. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Okay."
"Do you know how most people found your radio show?" he asked.
She frowned. "Yeah. They were tuning their radios up and down, looking for any broadcast they could find. We were counting on that from the start."
He nodded. "That's what I've heard. You want to know how I found your show?"
She frowned some more and nodded. "Okay."
"Totally by accident. I was listening to a tape in my car and I got bored with it and popped it out. By chance, the radio was already tuned to your station. You were playing something by the Beatles." He paused.
"Where are you going with this?" she asked.
"I wasn't listening to a tape because I couldn't find a radio station that worked," he said. "I was listening to a tape because I didn't want to find a radio station that worked. The thing of it is, I've never been what you might call a 'people person.' I lived alone, and I lived for my solitude. Then the thing happened, and everyone was gone, my first rational thought was all about what a big improvement it was. I liked being alone. At least I thought I did. Then all of a sudden, after two months of thinking I was the last person on the entire planet, I heard your voice, and it kicked off feelings I had no idea were in there. Meeting you gave my life purpose like I had never had before. All I needed was for you to be real. Anything you happened to be after that would have been gravy."
He rubbed the back of his head, and looked away. "I know a lot of people came all the way out here hoping to score with you, and I'm really sorry about that." He looked back at her. "I came all the way out here just to thank you. I had no idea how much I needed to be part of a community again, at least not before you came by and shoved me into it. I think I'm becoming a better person, Claudia. Being here, being part of something like this, I feel more alive than I have in a really long time."
He stopped there. He could probably have said much more, but that was more than enough for her to find it touching, or creepy, her choice.
She made no immediate move to leave, but stood looking down at the floor while she mulled over his words. Then she looked up and said, "You don't really know what you've got until it's gone, do you?"
He smiled. "No," he said. "I don't reckon you do."
She inhaled deeply, sighed heavily. "No promises," she said, "but I think I could like you. Eventually."
"Take your time."
She turned to leave. When she got to the door, she stopped, and turned back. "It was all we had," she said.
"What?"
"The records. The station didn't have any music recorded after 1979. All we had were turntables and old records. That's why I played that stuff." She stopped, then added, "I wasn't playing them for you."
He nodded. "I figured as much."
She lingered at the door. "When we get back?" she said, "I'll play something for you. Pick a good one." She left before he could reply.
He leaned back in his seat and picked up the music storage device. His pack was sitting in the seat on the other side of Claudia's, and he pulled it closer to rummage through it. Seeing her play with the device reminded him of all the other futuristic toys he had brought along. He pulled out one of the first gadgets he had found, the camera, and pressed a button on it.
"Like I would know?" said the image of Glimmer. It flickered briefly before Harrison pushed the button again, making her disappear. He smiled at the memory. Turning the camera over, he ran his hand over the symbol etched into its face, and frowned. Something about it nagged him, but he couldn't quite figure out what. Shrugging, he put the camera back in his pack. He picked out another gadget and scowled at it. He had either forgotten what it did or never figured it out. After he fiddled with it for a few seconds, it started vibrating. When it didn't appear that it was going to do anything else, he shut it off.
"Maybe later," he decided aloud. Maybe later would be a good time to investigate his toy collection. Perhaps under a little supervision.
He put on his headphones and nodded off. Two hours later, Glimmer woke him up.
"Time to roll," she said. She was not smiling.
"What's going on?"
"We have a shopping list."
Chapter Twenty
-Six
Émile
The next day, Lt. Anderson took the remains of the static mayhem bomb back to New Chicago in the flier. The consensus of the experts in the loop, both on the expedition team and the backup team at home, was that the bomb, by itself, was not a sufficient explanation for the May 25 event. Nevertheless, it warranted closer examination. As a matter of prudence, it was also decided to prepare a counterbomb, as per Glimmer's recommendation.
The old man's remains were buried near the hut. No evidence remained to determine his true identity, and Alec was satisfied that Apryl and Jake had given him everything they knew. The two of them had asked to be taken to Chicago, but for reasons of security, it was decided that they would stay with the expedition until its return. Secrecy was still a priority, and taking them to Chicago would have to involve detaining them. They were not told this, of course, but Harrison knew from experience how the government handled loose ends. He didn't want to see them treated as he had been.
He liked them, although he found Jake unpleasantly immature at times. The young man routinely pestered him with annoying questions until sometimes it was all he could do not to shake him. Harrison's impression of Apryl was that she was bright and sensitive, and it mystified him that she would be with a buffoon like Jake. He chalked it up to simple arithmetic, the population of New York City having been, until the last few days, three. He wondered how long it would take her, once they reached New Chicago, to break his heart.
They loaded the buggy's cargo holds with dozens of marked omnis before they set out. Glimmer assured them that the fruit would keep for a very long time, even in the absence of refrigeration. Louise had hoped to bring a cutting back to Chicago and start a grove, but that turned out to be impossible. The enchantment that made an omni tree work was tied to the roots, and, Glimmer said, any tree grown from a cutting would produce purple citrus fruit that tasted like urine. Louise chose to take her word for this.
Early in the morning of the third day after their arrival in New York, they set out in the buggy to find the components for a counterbomb.
* * *
Jake and Apryl were permitted to take some of their clothing and possessions with them. They were given slightly more latitude for space allowance than the rest of the team. They were, after all, leaving home and were unlikely to return. Among the items Apryl chose to bring was a nylon-string guitar.
The team had stopped for the day about an hour before sunset. While Alec and Louise stayed in the buggy to do some work, the rest went outside to enjoy the lingering daylight. Apryl had acceded to a request from Glimmer that she play for them. Harrison recognized the piece as J.S. Bach. It was the bourrée that Jethro Tull had popularized with an arrangement for blues flute. While her performance was not flawless, Harrison was struck by how gracefully she played through her mistakes. She looked relaxed and confident. Many of the amateur musicians he had known were self-conscious about imperfection and usually twitched when they heard themselves flub a note. The few times she did so, she seemed not the least bit bothered by it.
When she finished, she received a round of applause punctuated by Hadley shouting, "Brava!" Jeannette and Glimmer looked delighted as well, and Harrison agreed. Live music was a treat. Apryl bowed her head in acknowledgment of the praise.
"Encore!" shouted Hadley, and Jeannette began clapping again. It was then Harrison noticed that Claudia was not smiling. She had been applauding with the rest, but less enthusiastically. He wondered if something was wrong.
"Any requests?" Apryl asked. She looked right at Claudia when she said it.
"Play something punk," Claudia said. There was no cheer in her voice, and Apryl stopped smiling. That was when Harrison got it. Claudia wasn't miserable, she was asserting her dominance as the alpha-female cool girl. The two young women locked eyes for a second. Apryl held her hand toward Jake. "Pick," she said.
Jake almost stumbled over himself scrambling to Apryl's guitar case, from which he produced a pick. Apryl broke eye contact with her to look intently at the neck of her guitar. As she fingered several chords without playing them, Harrison guessed she was trying to remember a song. She nodded her head four times, setting a tempo, then began to strum. Harrison recognized the opening chords of "Should I Stay or Should I Go."
He was impressed that she knew the song, but considered it a risky choice. The Clash had made that record well before Claudia was born, and it had been considered pretty mainstream for them, even at the time. There was a good chance that Claudia might still consider it to be Old Fart Music.
Apryl sang the opening line with a kind of snarly passion. She was singing directly at Claudia, but Claudia was not reacting. Now Harrison understood the choice of song better. Glimmer was bobbing her head and grinning, and Hadley and Jeannette seemed as pleased as they had been with the bourrée and either had not noticed the exchange between Apryl and Claudia or were content not to get involved. As the song went on, Harrison noticed no change in Claudia's demeanor. He was afraid that Apryl had reacted so competitively that she had made things worse.
Then she hit the second verse, and Claudia suddenly belted the lyrics out with her, hitting the word "tease," repeatedly and assertively.
Without missing a beat, Apryl responded, singing the same line in Spanish. They continued that way, Apryl playing the Joe Strummer to Claudia's Mick Jones, for the next few lines. They both appeared to be taking themselves very seriously. When they reached the end of the verse, they both began howling like dogs (Harrison had forgotten that part of the song, but remembered it as soon as they began imitating it), and neither was able to keep a straight face after that. By the time they got back to the chorus, Glimmer had figured out the song, and the three of them sang it together in unison at top volume. Harrison noticed that Jake was totally enthralled by this newly formed band.
The only member of the party not singing or swaying (or inside the transport missing out on the most entertaining thing Harrison had seen in ages) was Sgt. Smith. He had been standing by a tree, keeping a considerate distance from the others while he smoked a cigarette. Harrison couldn't help but wonder how stale the salvaged tobacco products must be by this time. Eventually, the supply would be exhausted, and Harrison predicted that smoking would probably come to an end. What little manpower the survivors could devote to agriculture was going to have to be spent growing food. Of course, not being a smoker himself, he admitted that he could not really know how urgent that nontobacco crisis was going to seem. Cultivating tobacco could well turn out to be a national priority.
He watched the sergeant take his last drag, then drop the butt on the ground and crush it with his toe. The act disgusted Harrison. It was a tiny thing, but it angered him to see someone show so little regard for nature. They had lost so much in the last year. He was shocked that anyone could come through the event of May 25 without a greater desire to treat the Earth with more respect. He decided to scold Smith for his behavior and strode purposefully toward him.
He got there just in time to see Smith bend down, pick up the butt, and drop it in his pocket.
As if he didn't feel quite stupid enough underestimating this man he didn't know at all, now he had to come up with some plausible reason to have marched over there. Sgt. Smith looked at him expectantly.
"They're pretty good, aren't they?" he asked, smiling like a fool. He looked back at the women and pixie laughing as they finished their song. Hadley, Jeannette, and Jake were still clapping.
He expected the sergeant to fix him with a patronizing stare or something, but to his surprise, the man looked thoughtfully at the performers and nodded. Harrison knew he had been watching the interaction between Claudia and Apryl, but had no way of knowing how much of it he had picked up.
"She's a smart lady," Smith commented. He walked away from Harrison and back to the transport.
* * *
"Take a look at this," said Sgt. Smith.
Alec was watching one of the monitors on the transport's control panel
. The screen showed a cluster of trees by a stream a few hundred yards away. The transport had very elaborate and useful surveillance equipment, and the monitor was located where everyone could easily see it from their seats. At the sergeant's words, Alec and Hadley had gotten up from their seats to get a closer look. A white horse peered out from around one of the trees, then dashed away, beyond the edge of the image. The camera mounted on the roof of the buggy tried to track it.
"Are you sure about that?" Alec asked.
"Look at this," the sergeant replied. He turned a roller with his finger. Evidently the camera had been recording, not just transmitting. The image of the horse ran backward, and he pushed it back to the frame where the horse's head had looked around the tree. He froze it there. Even in the somewhat grainy image, they could see the spike growing out of the horse's forehead.
Hadley was captivated. "Oh yes," he said. "Yes. Yes, indeed."
"Very nicely done," said Alec. "One lock of unicorn mane, coming right up. I'll be back shortly." He made for the door, but found his way abruptly blocked by the pixie.
"Whoa, there, Hoss," she said. "Where do you think you're going?" Today she was wearing an orange paisley dress, V-neck, the décolletage accented with a small bow. No shoes.
"I'm not going to kill it, if that's what you're on about," he said.
"There's an image I hadn't conjured. I wonder how you'd fare, mano a casco." She tapped her chin, gazing into space, lost in thought. After a few seconds, she smirked. "Yeah, that's rich." Then she looked back to him. "No, I was concerned with mission success. Unicorns are notoriously picky about the company they keep. I don't think you meet the qualifications."
He sneered. "What? You think I'm ill-bred?"
"She means we need to send a virgin," said Apryl.
After a few seconds of silence, Jake grinned. "Well, hell! Even I knew that!" Harrison hid his smile. Maybe the kid wasn't such a pain, after all.