by Elsa, Sandra
Paul followed her over the rail and once dry, he reached in a chrome drawer and drew out shorts. We followed them around to the backside of the tank, a short staircase taking us over the pipe. Nan, Jallahan, and William, were gathered around a table, staring at a large screen attached to what I at first assumed to be an antique computer, due to its size. When Harrison whistled and ran a hand lovingly over the console I reassessed the machine. The stark surface of the black box was broken by three chrome letters; AII. I’d never heard them before. Had it stopped one ‘I’ shorter I’d have assumed I was looking at an example of the forbidden Artificial Intelligence.
“Has this been here all along?” Excitement pinched Harrison’s voice. Whatever it was, I’d just lost my husband to it.
“It never had any connections to the outside world, for security concerns.” William said. “Nobody knew it was here when that pompous ass, President Haliday, decided that AI’s were a threat to the world and declared they all needed to be dismantled and any information on their creation razed from the libraries.”
Haliday? Damn that had been over eight-hundred years ago. My first thought had been correct. Artificial Intelligence. I sat in a chair far from the center of the proceedings and Nan gave her seat up to Harrison and joined me. Paul pulled a table toward Nan and me and sat down, drawing out a plain, old-fashioned, deck of cards. “We can’t use anything electronic down here, in fact you need to turn off handhelds, but while I wait for Jesse and Great-grandfather to puzzle out the mysteries of the world, I’ve spent a lot of time with these. Do you play?”
Harrison glanced over his shoulder to see what we were doing. He pulled out his handheld and obeyed Paul’s order even though it hadn’t been directed at him. Noting the cards, he turned back to the screen.
After turning off my handheld I said, “I’m fair at hodum, never had much time to play.”
“I can play hodum,” Nan said.
“That makes three of us.” Paul shuffled the cards.
I watched closely, figuring my turn would come, and I’d only ever played electronically. He dealt out eight cards and I picked mine up. Two aides, four number cards, one president, and death. Not a great start. Paul was smiling, and Nan’s face impassively gave no clues to her hand.
I quickly lost one of my aides and a three receiving in turn an eight and a two. Worse off than I started…I settled in for the long haul and after losing the first three games I found myself paying more attention to the group huddled around the AI than the cards in my hand.
They were discussing the magical properties of the fantastical unicorn. A feminine voice said, “We will need to acquire the talent that purifies. I can manipulate the sequencing to imprint the talent on the DNA.” I realized with a start the very human sounding voice was the AII not Jesse.
“Are you certain simply having the talent available will enable this?” Harrison asked. Seems like talent begins and ends in DNA how can it arbitrarily be sequenced if there is no underlying lifesource?”
“Your turn,” Paul bumped my leg, bringing me back to the game. “You gonna discard today?”
I threw out a three and a nine and challenged Nan for an aide.
She smiled and handed me one card. Ha. Four aides and two presidents. I might actually win this one. Nan handed me the top card from the deck to replace my second throwaway and I sighed as death stared me in the face. At least I had two presidents. One of them could die and I still had a reasonably strong hand.
Paul discarded and challenged me for an eight. I squinted at him. Nobody ever challenged for number cards. He must have a run going. I ungracefully grunted and handed him a yellow eight. My only number card, how the hell had he known I had that? Or had it been a lucky guess?
Nan’s turn excluded me so I focused back where they were now discussing the difficulties of merging Narwhal, and horse DNA. Apparently Narwhal horns were tusks, commonly two to three meters long and at most we wanted two to three feet. So they’d have to isolate the gene responsible for size even before combining the DNA. Being as it was a tusk and not a horn, altering it so it grew in the middle of the horse’s head would also be a challenge.
“Probably best to clone the Narwhal DNA before experimenting with it,” William said. “It’s exceedingly rare.”
“We plan to populate the ocean,” Jesse said, “Why don’t we grow a Narwhal, not just a few viable clumps of DNA. That would give us an unlimited resource and return an amazing species to the world.”
“Brilliant!” William rubbed his hands together. “I knew there was more to you than a pretty face.”
Another shove let me know it was my turn. Nan handed me a card off the top of the deck to replace the one I’d given Paul. It was a four and I discarded it, wishing the rules permitted me to get rid of the death card.
I challenged Paul for a president and he reluctantly handed one to me.
We stayed the rest of the afternoon in the basement of District Two-Three-Seven’s biogenetics lab and I found myself pondering which other districts held hidden wonders. My stomach grumbled as I lost for the umpteenth time.
Paul’s sang a similar tune.
“Want to go get something to eat?” I asked him.
“Sure.” Paul nodded toward the pipes. “Want to ride with me?”
“I don’t breathe underwater.”
“I told you I have magic. I’ll keep you safe.”
The possibility intrigued me. “Your magic won’t affect me.”
He held a hand out to tug me to my feet. “It’s not you I change; it’s the water surrounding you.”
I allowed him to lead me toward the tank. “We’ll experiment before we go. I’m not doubting you, just don’t trust magic to keep me alive in my nullfield.”
The cluster by the AII swiveled their chairs to stare at us. I was surprised they even noticed.
“We’ll experiment however long it takes you to be comfortable.”
“You’re going to keep your shorts on?” I glanced over at Harrison.
“I’m going to change. You can bring the shorts along if you want, though I’ll get dry ones from the keeper at the pier.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “OK. I’m game.”
He looked at the group. ”Anybody want anything to eat?”
Their momentary distraction already faded, they had returned to their discussion as though they didn’t even hear. “You want to come along?” Paul asked Nan.
She looked at the three foot wide pipes and shook her head. “But you can bring me and Harold some Ravioli from that little place at the end of the boardwalk.”
“Ravioli it is.”
“I’ll grab something for Harrison if you know what Jesse and William will eat, let’s get out of here. I’m tired of losing at cards.”
Paul flipped into the tank and changed form. I slid in after him and he stretched his arms up and tugged me down, then moved behind me and wrapped me tight. We submerged and after a moment of panic, I realized the water covering my head was indeed breathable. A flick of his tail and he propelled us over to the grate opposite the one he’d entered by. With a flip of the latch he opened it, then tugged us both through. In the dark tube he held me without moving while I struggled to convince myself to trust him. Once I stilled, he spoke in my ear, “You’re perfectly safe.”
I nodded. However I was breathing, I decided I didn’t want water rushing in my mouth. His tail wriggled and we started forward, as I relaxed, he picked up speed, until my main fear was careening into one of the dark walls. He slowed and turned to the right at a fork in the tunnel, gently illuminated by a glowing underwater disc.
Chapter 28
Four turns later, we jetted out into open water, the haze of twilight overhead and the twinkling of lights guiding us toward shore. He held me firmly until I could place a hand on the rung of the ladder going up the side of the pier then placed a hand under my rear and pushed me to get me started climbing.
On the deck, he leaned over me and sai
d, “All right?”
I controlled my racing pulse and stood on slightly shaky legs. “I’m good.” Water dripped from my hair and clothes. He tugged me toward the pier’s keeper. By the time he was pulling on shorts, I’d pretty much recovered. We went to the restaurant Nan had requested food from and sat down to order. I planned to eat here. The lab had proved boring in general and I decided I would probably not accompany Harrison next time, no matter how much I loved my husband.
Several people stopped to speak to Paul. One sat down and said, “Introduce me to your friend.”
Paul looked at him, then shook his head. “Frankie this is Mitch; biggest flirt in the sea. Mitch--Frankie, President Drover’s daughter-in-law.”
Mitch had extended his hand but he withdrew it as though I were toxic. After a moment he stuck his hand back out and said, “That was rude. Please accept my apology. We’ve heard more than a few rumors about the hundreds of people you’ve killed—“
“Stop right there. I’ve killed less than fifty in my lifetime and nearly half of those have been in the last week.”
He glanced around the restaurant. “Where’s your husband?”
“Occupied.”
“So he won’t blast us for talking to you?”
“Talking isn’t a blasting offense.”
“Good to know.” Even though he’d pulled his fear under control he left as soon as he civilly could.
He ran off when he saw his Uncle Mike and didn’t look back.
“Didn’t know my rep was that bad,” I said to Paul with a grin. “Hope my enemies believe the rumors as much as your friend did.”
The waitress showed up and I ordered a manicotti to eat here and one to go. Paul ordered the manicotti with four orders of ravioli to go. We took our time eating. When the waitress brought our food she asked Paul, “Did you need the to go’s in plastic?”
“Yes, please. Grandpa’s at work and you know how he gets. Wouldn’t eat if I didn’t bring him something.”
“What’s he working on?”
“Little project for Frankie. One of these days we might trot it out and show it to everybody.”
“I can take a hint.” She winked at Paul then leaned down and wrapped her arms around him. For the first time ever, I saw him look uncomfortable when touched.
The waitress seemed oblivious to being repulsed, but Paul appeared glad when she left.
“Somebody you have history with?” I asked.
“Recent. And now that I’ve declared my intent to Jesse, she’s not as patient with my wandering.”
“So stop.”
“I’m trying. I didn’t return her enthusiasm.”
“Jesse seems a much better sport about it than I would be.”
“Until you convinced me we might be able to spread out, I never let her know I was interested. In fact, playing the field widely kept her from hoping I might be interested in anything more.”
We stopped speaking as the waitress returned with our drinks. She scowled at me as though I was the source of Paul’s rebuff. I wondered if she’d spit in my food. When she left, I said, “I hope we didn’t jump the gun by raising hopes.”
“Me too. Poppy says we‘re on the right track. And I‘ve never known her to be wrong.”
“I hope she’s right about our new friend.”
“She was intrigued with him. She wasn’t quite certain. You’ll notice she didn’t take him joyriding. But it could just be that he’s a supersized predator.”
“He’s killed fewer people than I have.”
“But you aren’t a cat. When it comes down to it, Poppy still lives by instinct, no matter how intelligent she is.”
“Nothing wrong with instincts. Everybody has them. Some of us keep them more sharply honed than others.”
“I wasn’t criticizing her. Poppy’s my girl. We grew up together.”
“You’re telling me she’s as old as you are?”
“Yep.”
“How long do dolphin’s live?”
He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “If I didn’t know we were only a couple years different in age I’d think you were insinuating I was old.”
I kicked him under the table. “You know how many times I’ve been told this week that if Harrison and I are going to have children we’d better do it, because I’m going to be too old soon. But honestly I was just curious what kind of lifespan dolphins have.”
He gave me the raised eyebrow look, before saying, “Natural dolphins used to live fifty years. Great-Grandfather adjusted the pod’s DNA. Poppy will probably outlive all of us.”
“That’s cool. I had a cat when I was five years old. Died by the time I was ten and I decided I didn’t want another pet.”
“Poppy’s not exactly a pet. More a friend.”
“I here ya. Chelsea was a friend too and it hurts when friends die, so I decided I didn’t need any more short lived friends.”
“So was it Harrison who talked you into having a baby?”
I did a doubletake on his wording but left it alone as misspoken. “No. He agrees, this isn’t the best time to start a family.”
“So who else would want you to have a kid?”
“Have you met the potential grandparents? Who doesn’t want me to have a kid?”
“So whose opinion matters more than your own?”
“Nobody’s.”
He looked down at the table a minute then back up at me. “Frankie?”
“Yessss?” My gut knotted at the uncertainty in his voice.
“Promise not to shoot the messenger?”
“Get it over with Paul.” My voice betrayed the nerves that raged out of control.
He gulped and cast his eyes back at the table. “Poppy said you’re pregnant.”
I’d known what he would say before the words flowed, but I’d held onto a slender hope I was reading him wrong. Once he spoke, I sank into my seat and leaned my head back, defeated--mind, blessedly blank.
A minute went by in silence. Then two.
Paul began tapping his toes in a nervous rhythm joined shortly by fingers drumming on the table. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” I mumbled at him.
“Then talk to me Frankie, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Drover!” I sat up and spat the word, trying to remove the bad taste from my mouth.
“What could he have to do with it?”
My mind came back online. “Does Poppy know how pregnant I am?”
“She knows you weren’t, the first time she took you for a ride, but today you are.”
“Soooo…in the last week? Since I spent time in the hospital.” I was more talking to myself, reasoning my way through, and Paul was smart enough to remain quiet. “He could have paid a doctor to remove birth control. God knows I spent enough time unconscious. My father wouldn’t have done this. He may want grandchildren but not at the risk of alienating me. It had to be Drover.”
Paul interrupted my musing to restate his question. “The president never even acknowledged his own son until he married you. Why would he be so eager for grandchildren?”
“He didn’t acknowledge his son, because Harrison’s mother refused to have anything to do with him after he had her birth control turned off and impregnated her against her will. Harrison and I are both the result of Jordan and his friends experimenting with the hookers of District Eleven.”
“How could he have her birth control turned off?”
“I can turn off any magic spell I want to. So can my father. In those days he hung out with Jordan. As for why Drover’s so eager to have grandchildren...My children will probably be the most powerful mages born since the return of magic. They will have the talent to control the weather, turn off magic spells, turn off other peoples talent, find things, levitate, create illusion, turn themselves liquid, shoot lightning from their fingertips, whatever else Harrison is capable of and whatever tricks I haven’t yet figured out I can do, all wrapped in the power of a
null and completely unsusceptible to any controls except their conscience.”
Paul had stopped tapping and drumming and leaned across the table as I spoke. Quietly, as though afraid to contradict me, he said, “You can’t predict talent. It isn’t hereditary.”
“It is if one of the parents is a null. My mother was a null with the ability to see and feel talent. Maybe some skills she never learned about. I’m the same, with my father’s abilities added in. Carry that another generation taking Harrison’s skills into account.”
The waitress arrived with our food. As she put it on the table, Paul said, “That could be a bit of a handful to raise. Fortunately talent has a way of not manifesting until children are mature enough to control it. What do you think Harrison will say?”
“I always got the feeling my husband only parroted my wishes. He’ll be over the moon and trying not to let me see that. Desperately trying to let me know he understands if I want to end the pregnancy, all the while, praying I won’t.”
“Sounds like you know each other pretty well.”
The waitress was hovering, I glanced up at her. “Did you need something?”
Her eyes widened, as though I couldn’t possibly have noticed her presence. After a prolonged moment of dithering she said, “When would you like me to bring out the to-go meals?”
“Give us half an hour. If I don’t return her to her husband he’s likely to come looking for us.”
“OK, Paul,” she shifted her attention away from me and tried running an affectionate finger up his arm.
Paul drew away from her and said, “I’m sorry, Trixie, but my situation has changed. I don’t think my fiancée will understand if you keep touching me.”
“She just mentioned her husband. If there is a fiancée she’s obviously not here.”