Heinlein's Finches

by Robin Banks

  “No. No, I’m not. I’ve never been this angry in my life. I’m angry at those assholes, angry at myself, angry at the fact that Asher is so fucking unwell at the moment, angry at Marcus…”

  “You don’t know that it’s his fault.”

  “No. You’re right. But my anger doesn’t seem to care about that.”

  “Oh, pet. So what now? What are you going to do?”

  “Carry on as normal. Reggie retained me as your assistant. Something to do with the fact that I can write prettier than you. I can stick around. I can carry on doing my thing. If anything, the fact that the whole school is gonna know in no time at all that there’s a psi-freak about may keep people further away from you.”

  “You don’t know that it’ll be like that.”

  “Wanna bet? Oh, fuck it. Angry as I feel right now, they can bring it on.”

  Reggie was right. Turns out that being openly ostracized by the majority of the population is not much fun. My social circle has never been that large, but I could have a friendly word with most people here. Now I’m left with only a handful of people who’ll tolerate my presence.

  Clint and Clarence were furious at me, but they deal with issues head-on. They told me they were furious, I explained why I’d kept it a secret, they told me that I was still an asshole, and then they got over it. Now we’re cool. Skip has tried to stand by me, but he’s genuinely scared and that makes it difficult for both of us. Everyone else is avoiding me as if I had the plague.

  On the plus side, I might be increasing Gwen’s security. Now, when I’m near her, nobody else wants to be unless they really, really have to. Being despised is turning out useful. That doesn’t make it pleasant, though.

  Asher and I have taken to hanging out by ourselves quite a bit more than usual. We don’t talk much or do anything in particular, but we’re finding comfort in each other’s company. There are precious few other sources of any kind of comfort these days, so I’m rather glad of it.

  Every morning, right after breakfast, we walk out to Landing to watch the ships until it’s time for me to head back for class. It’s become a ritual for the both of us. We’d normally be floating. I think it’s easier on Asher to have something else to do to take his mind off what he’s not doing. I feel like a spare part hanging around Gwen when she’s not out and about. She takes her breakfast in the tower now, with the ever-present Marcus guarding her door.

  We were just on our way out for our little morning stroll when the Chancellor collars Asher.

  “I need you to come to my office. Now.”

  When I make no motion to go with, the Chancellor turns to me and murmurs, “you too. I have the feeling you’ll be needed.”

  He marches down to his office with us barely keeping up, closes the door behind us and pours us all a drink. At breakfast. This cannot be good. “Here. You might need it.” He collapses onto his chair. “Professor McGee… It’s very important that you understand that I am telling you this because I know that you will want to know, not because I consider you responsible. You understand?”

  “Now you’re scaring me.” Asher’s eyes are enormous. “Where’s Gwen?”

  “She’s ok. Nothing to do with that.” He sighs and rubs his face. “Gods, there is no easy way. There was an accident. A bad accident. On the tube, during float camp. A cadet lost control and collided with another cadet at some speed. The first cadet was fine. The second cadet died.”

  “What?”

  “The suit failed on impact. We do not have the details, yet. Could be a suit malfunction, could be it wasn’t properly put on. I doubt the impact could have been that severe, but we just don’t know yet.”

  “But… Dead? Who?”

  “Cadet Rogers. They couldn’t do anything about it. There was no time. I strongly doubt we’ll get the truth about this, but I’ll keep trying.” He looks at Asher’s stunned expression. “I’m sorry. But you are aware this kind of thing can happen. Has happened. Not during your tenure, obviously, but before. It has always been one of the risks we accounted for during suited maneuvers. The fact that you have managed to avoid any accidents didn’t mean that the potential wasn’t there for them to happen.”

  Asher’s just sitting there, looking vacant. When he finally speaks, his voice is remarkably calm though extremely weak. “How is Nick?”

  “Adjunct Gray hasn’t seen fit to talk to me.” The Chancellor sighs. “Hell, I don’t blame him. Maybe he’ll speak to you.”

  “I doubt it.”

  We sit there in silence until the door is wrenched open and Gwen charges in, Marcus in tow. “I just heard. Are you ok?”

  Asher looks at her blankly. “Am I supposed to be?”

  “Oh, love” and she moves to hug him, but he stops her with a gesture.

  “Not now. Sorry. Just not now. Ok? I need a bit of time.” Gwen’s face collapses.

  Asher turns to the Chancellor. “I would appreciate further updates, if you get any.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” And he just turns and leaves.

  Gwen and I stand there frozen, until the Chancellor breaks the spell with an urgent “I think you need to go with him.”

  We catch up with Asher and follow him in silence. I think he’s heading back to the tower, but when we get there he carries on past the entrance, and starts heading towards the town.

  “Where are you going?” Gwen’s voice sounds unusually small.

  “I’m not sure. Anywhere else. I can’t be here right now.”

  “But you can’t just go off like this.”

  “I can’t?”

  “It’s not… Don’t go like this, on your own. Please. It’s not safe.”

  Marcus clears his throat. “Professor McGee is making a valid point.”

  “Good thing you’re in charge of her security, not mine, hey?”

  Gwen looks about to cry. “If you go, I’m coming with you.”

  Marcus pipes up again. “I would not recommend that.”

  Asher sounds eerily amused. “Out of curiosity, would you not recommend it, or would you forbid it? I wonder where that line is drawn, these days.”

  “Asher, please, this isn’t the time,” pleads Gwen.

  “There may never be a better time. If Gwen wanted to leave here and come with me, what would you do?”

  Marcus looks flustered. “I can’t say that I’ve considered that eventuality. Generally the people I’m tasked with protecting actually want to be protected. I assumed that was the case here.”

  “Would you do me the favor of considering the eventuality now? If my wife wanted to leave here and come with me, would you stop her?”

  “I would certainly try to dissuade her.”

  Asher shakes his head. “One of these days I’ll get a straight answer out of you, and the shock will kill me. Gwen, please go to work. I need to be on my own. Please. I won’t go anywhere. I promise. But I need some time alone. Ok?”

  “You won’t do anything rash?”

  “In my current state, that’s a physical impossibility.” He sighs. “I promise. Now please go to work, before I start screaming at you. I really don’t want to do that. It wouldn’t be fair and it wouldn’t be helpful. Please.”

  Gwen hesitates for a few seconds, then she turns and walks away, followed by Marcus.

  Asher turns to look at me. “Are you going to try and tell me what to do?”

  “Fuck no. Pointless exercise anyway.”

  “Wanna ask me how I feel?”

  “I’d rather not know.”

  “Do you understand why I can’t be here?”

  “Yes. But you told Gwen you wouldn’t go anywhere, so now you’re stuck.”

  “Yup. Now what?”

  “Fucked if I know.”

  We stay out there a while. Asher sits in his ATR, staring into the distance. I lean against the tower wall. My mind’s completely blank. After a while, I realize he’s been crying. It takes me a little longer to realize that I have, too. When the a
venue starts to get busy, Asher shakes himself off and rubs his face dry. “Time to be elsewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “No fucking idea.”

  “Go find Aiden?”

  He closes his eyes. “I don’t think I can face anyone. But if there’s anyone I could face, it’s probably him. Good call.”

  “You’re facing me.”

  “Yeah, well. You’re special. You don’t count.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  He looks at me. “What the fuck am I going to do? How do I get past this?”

  “No fucking idea. I can’t fit it in my head.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  We start off. “You want me to come with? Everybody avoids me anyway. I can be your people-repellant.”

  “I’d love that. But Gwen needs you more than I do.” I snigger, but he carries on. “No, seriously. I know I’ve treated her awfully. But I would have treated her worse if she stuck around. Go see her? Come get me later?”

  “K. If you need anything, I’ll be in the office. Or you can tell Aiden to tell me at lunch.”

  “K.”

  When I get to Gwen’s office, she’s frantic. I wonder, not for the first time, if part of the division of roles in their partnership is that she does some of the emoting on Asher’s behalf. Maybe they’re just wired very differently. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I reassure her as well as I can, and by the end of that I’m drained. I spend the rest of the day pretending I’m working, but really trying to play mental catch-up.

  By dinnertime I’ve still not heard anything from Asher, so I bring two food trays over to Aiden’s workshop. It’s not as if I want to sit in the refectory getting stared at, anyway.

  “Food. Eat.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Aiden is nice. He shuts up and doesn’t bully me.”

  “Good to know.”

  We shovel up the food in silence. It’s not improved by having gone cold.

  When Asher finally speaks, his voice sounds hollow. “What am I going to do when I grow up?”

  “Aren’t you a bit old for that consideration?”

  “It seems to have come round again. I can’t do this anymore. Well, I can, but I don’t think I want to.”

  “Is this really necessary? I mean, right now. I’m not entirely sure you’re in the best mental state to be making decisions. And you don’t have all the facts yet.”

  “I don’t know if the facts will matter. Look at it this way. Either my legs get better, or they don’t. At the moment, everything looks like it’s going well, but I can’t be sure yet. If I can’t get back into teaching, I’m out of here anyway. Wouldn’t have to leave the bubble, not necessarily, but would have to leave the Academy for sure. If I can’t float, I have nothing to contribute.

  “If my legs do get better, then I’d have to fight for my job back – not my position, my actual job, the way I was doing it. I will not be teaching that damn curriculum of theirs. It’s not safe. It didn’t take a death to prove that; I could have told them. The only reason they took me was that I could do better than that. I don’t love my job so much that I am willing to put people’s lives at risk just to hold on to it.

  “If I can go back to how things were… I don’t know if I’d want to. I would probably be sorely tempted, because familiarity is comforting, and I’m all out of other options. But the situation around Gwen is just not manageable anymore. I love that woman, you know I do, but she’s decided that not letting people scare her off is more important than having a good life. Or having a life at all. She wants to win at all costs, and I love her for that. She’s not easily beaten, and no matter how hard she gets hit, she always gets back up. But in this particular situation she’s lost all sense of perspective. She’s keeping herself in harm’s way to prove a point, instead of getting the hell out of the way. We’ve been sitting here playing a game, waiting to see how bad it has got to get before we call it a day. Now, if she doesn’t, I will. Someone’s got to. She’s gonna have to pick.”

  “You’d leave her here on her own?”

  “I hope not to. Gods, I hope she’d pick me. I don’t know why I’d think she would, though. Things between us have not been good. Why am I even telling you? You’ve seen it all go to shit. We used to be so good together.”

  He bites his lip. “She used to be the reason I woke up in the morning. I knew all along she shouldn’t be, but she was. I always tried not to lean on her too hard, you know? The temptation was always there. She’s so alive. She’s the most alive person I’ve ever met. Enough to keep me going. Without her, I find it hard to remember that living is important. I forget to look for the good stuff, then I find myself surrounded by bad stuff, and drowning. It can get so bad that it seems easier to let go. But when she’s with me… Her fire burns so strong that it’s contagious. I remember to be here, to be present. It’s hard for me to care about me, but she makes worthwhile. It’s not that she gives my life meaning. That would be bad. She gives it joy. That’s worse. That shit is addictive. And I’m sure I can’t provide it for myself. I’ve never managed before. Just a long string of staying alive for the sake of staying alive. Or out of duty, or cowardice.” He swallows.

  “But I can’t stay here and allow this to continue. I can’t be a part of this anymore. Our life together, everything we had has been whittled away at and crushed and… It’s all fucked up. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “You could have told me before telling her.” Gwen is standing in the doorway. I didn’t hear her coming. Neither did Asher. He looks horror-struck.

  “Gwen, before you jump to conclusions, you need to hear me out.”

  “I think I’ve heard enough.”

  “No, you didn’t. You heard the end of a very long argument.”

  “And hearing the whole thing would change the conclusion, somehow? You want out, you’re out. I neither can nor would try to stop you. Next time maybe let the person you’re dumping be the first one to know, though.” And she turns and walks away.

  Asher swears loudly and goes off after her, nearly running Marcus over in the process. “Gwen. Gwen! You need to stop and hear me out.”

  “I need it, or you need it?”

  “Gwen, please. You’re taking this completely the wrong way.”

  She wheels around to face him, rage and hurt radiating out of her. “How many ways are there to take it? You want out. You said so. Do you think I’d still have you, when I’ve just heard you saying that you want out? You must think very little of me.” She shakes her head. “Guess it explains how keen you were to pull back from me these last weeks. Making it all about me. Convenient, hey. You could have told me straight. Coward.”

  Asher reels, then swells up with rage. “I told you everything I needed to tell you. Repeatedly. You wouldn’t fucking listen. I told you that our situation was untenable. I told you that we needed to get out before it got completely out of control. I told you that I loved you, and I didn’t want to lose you. You didn’t seem to care. You didn’t care after I got hurt. You didn’t care after your goon had a goddamn shootout in a room full of cadets. You decided what you wanted to do, dug your heels in, and carried on regardless, as you always do. So don’t make this about me not talking. I got hoarse trying to talk to you.”

  “Oh, so this is about me, now? It’s not about you making everything that happens around you as personal? You weren’t even on the tube, but you still have to make it all about you.”

  “What? This has nothing to do with that.”

  “Bullshit. This has everything to do with that. You knew what your job entailed, but you chose not to think about it. Now you’ve had to face it. And even though you weren’t even there, even though nobody could blame it on you, you have to crucify yourself.”

  “What the fuck? This is not about my job! This is about the fact that people are constantly trying to fucking kill you! This is about the fact that we can’t be together without a f
ucking chaperone. We can’t walk the streets, we can’t breathe. Do you ever stop to see the life you’re living? The life you’re making us live?”

  “Oh, so I’m selfish now?”

  “Selfish or thoughtless. Gotta be one of the two.”

  I’m getting hammered by their unleashed emotions. I don’t know where I end and they start anymore.

  They stare at each other, breathing hard, until Asher breaks eye contact. “This isn’t useful.” He swallows hard. “I’m sorry. Everything is coming out wrong.”

  Gwen closes her eyes and runs through a few breath cycles. “Yes. It is.” She turns and walks away, at a normal pace this time.

  “We still need to talk about this.”

  “I’m not sure what there is to talk about.”

  “Gwen…”

  “Everything you said was true. You told me months ago that we should just go and forget all this and get a new life, and I didn’t listen. You said you wanted to stay home with me instead of going climbing, and I didn’t listen. You came back with two broken legs and tried to explain to me what the practical implications were, how that made you feel, and I didn’t listen. Then we had that Ok Corral bullshit, and I still didn’t listen. I’m the one causing all the problems and I’ve been the one not really getting it. It all felt like a really weird game, so absurd that someone would really try to hurt me because of what I do. Even when it definitely felt real, it felt disconnected with reality. Even when they hurt you. I could have lost you because of something I trivialized, or compartmentalized.

  “I just thought if we could stand fast for long enough they would see that they couldn’t beat us. I thought the two of us could weather this. I thought we could weather anything. You know I love you, right?”

  “Yeah. I love you too. But that’s why I gotta call it quits.”

  Gwen stares at him. “You mean that.”

  “I have to. Someone has to call it. You won’t, so it has to be me. Ever since the start of this, I’ve sat and watched events unfold. I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop you doing your thing – doing your thing is what makes you you. But all the way through I’ve sat back. I haven’t done anything to ensure your safety. I’ve been at most neutral, occasionally in the right place at the right time, but largely by coincidence. Then it turns out that not only I can’t keep you safe, but I can’t even look after myself. I’m taking away instead of adding to your safety. And this makes me feel less of a person.”