Heinlein's Finches

by Robin Banks

  “Any of them come back?” asks Aiden, and Gwen shudder.

  “Ok. ATR is not an option” says Asher. “Need to focus now. Cellar it is? What about resources? Water, food?”

  I shake my head. “Plenty of booze there, but that’s about it.”

  “Any one got any loose credit?”

  We all shake our heads.

  Asher is tapping his fingers on his leg. “So, to sum up. We don’t know what we’re hiding from. We don’t know how to find out. The two of you are hurt. I’m incapacitated. We are going to go through one of the busiest areas of town to hide in a cellar, where we won’t be able to get any more information about our problem. We have no credit or supplies to support ourselves. And this is our best plan?”

  “Do you have to put it like that?” Gwen moans.

  Asher kisses the top of her head. “Sorry, milady. It is what it is. We need to be conscious of that. Running around thoughtlessly won’t help us any. Unless we get extremely lucky. It’s back to the problem we’ve had all along: we’ve been reactive. Now we’re moving away from danger, rather than towards safety. It’s not a good strategy, though sometimes it’s the only strategy. And if we ditch my ATR we won’t go far, or fast.” He turns to Aiden. “How long have I got on this thing, anyway?”

  “Without moving? Couple weeks. Moving, maybe 100 klicks. Maybe less. Hard to tell. Cold outside.”

  Gwen shrugs. “We don’t have 100 klicks to travel, anyway. Unless you’re planning a suicide mission out-bubble. Or just going around in circles through the town. Oh, this is maddening! I don’t have enough data! And I’m getting pissed off!”

  Aiden clears his throat. “My uncle’s house. Could go there.”

  “You have an uncle here? That’s the first time I hear about him!” Gwen sounds as shocked as I feel.

  “Yup. Place near Landing. Could go there for a bit. He’s a good guy.”

  Aiden has never mentioned any family. He spent all his holidays at the Academy. I’ve never seen him have a visitor, receive mail, or even take a private call. He doesn’t even own anything much, beyond what the Academy supplies. I’d assumed he was an orphan. I think we all did.

  “Well, we need somewhere to go and have no other ideas, right? So this sounds like our only plan.” Gwen shrugs. “But how are we going to get there without Asher being spotted? Landing is busy as hell all times of day and night, and he’s a tad conspicuous.”

  “Uncle has transport,” says Aiden.

  Now we really are shocked. “Transport? Private transport?”

  “Yup.” Aiden nods.

  I’ve never met anyone who has private transport. I don’t think I’ve even met anyone who knew anyone who has private transport. You need to be rich – filthy rich, first class rich – to be able to afford and run something like that. And on a small place like this, what would you even use it for? It’s stuff for stuff’s sake. We gawk at Aiden long enough for him to ask again. “So?”

  Asher shakes himself off first. “Yes. Yes, please.”

  “Ok. Back in a bit.” Aiden grabs a couple of coats and goes off, just like that.

  We stay huddled in our heap in the ATR.

  “Any of you knew anything about this?” asks Asher.

  “Nope.” “No.”

  “Ok. So it’s not just me. Darlings, I’m sorry, but this has been a bit of a day. I don’t think I’m computing very well.”

  Gwen leans into him. “How are you feeling?”

  He takes a few breaths before answering. “Sore. Hollow. Ok, I guess. Better. At some point I’ll need some serious downtime to process this, but now’s not the time. Everything feels unreal.”

  “Join the club.” Gwen shudders.

  “It might have been worth it to see that asshole’s face explode. That was a good hit, milady. Top notch. Well done, though I’m jealous. Been hankering to do that for ages.”

  “I’m sorry. If the chance arises, I’ll let you have the next turn.”

  “Don’t leave me out, ok?” I interject peevishly.

  “And there’s me thinking you were a pacifist at heart.”

  “Eh. Enough is enough. I’m really sorry, though. You told me so many times that the guy was no good, and I kept ignoring you. I thought you were prejudiced against him, and all the while I was prejudiced for him.”

  Asher puts an arm over my shoulders. “We were prejudiced. And you were smitten. It happens. We’re all fools when we’re in love.” Gwen elbows him. “Oof. Apart from me. I remain alert and coldly calculating despite the onslaught of this utterly vexing biochemical reaction.”

  “Oi!”

  “Ok. I remain completely logical in love because my wife is the best woman in the world, and it’s only logical for me to adore every part of her. Biochemical reactions are not required.” He kisses the top of her head. “Milady, I hope I haven’t been too awful. These last weeks, I haven’t been myself.”

  “No, you haven’t. And that’s fine. You’re entitled to not being well when you’re not well. That’s what not being well means. I, on the other hand, I have been myself: shrill, stubborn, unreasonable, and controlling. I’m sorry. I felt like I was stuck in a box that was getting smaller every day. I have no idea whatever possessed me to hold on to it.”

  “You had a point, my love. That was our life and our livelihood. No knowing what the next one will bring.”

  “Eh. All the same. Good to be on the road. Good to be able to make decisions. Good to shake shit up.”

  “You’re a little terror, you know that? Unfit as the wife of a leading academic genius. Unfit for a position of responsibility indoctrinating young minds for public service.”

  “Yup.”

  “Good thing we quit, hey. Before anyone realized that.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I know.”

  They talk of this and that and mostly nothing. It’s really comforting to hear them having a vaguely normal exchange. Everything has been so strained and so weird of late. I find myself nodding off a few times, not quite asleep but not quite awake. Every time I wake up my head feels worse. There is a wet, hot, dark pressure at the edges of my consciousness. I’ve stopped feeling nauseated, and just accepted that nausea is my new state of being.

  The night outside has just started to get lighter when Aiden shows up. “Ready?”

  We all follow him to a private pedestrian ATR. On the outside it looks just like all the other small ATRs, so you can’t tell it’s not fleet. Inside, though, it’s completely different. There is no cockpit for the driver; it’s just a big, open room. All the seats are against the sides, leaving a lot of empty space in the middle. Everything is clean and neat. Aiden makes his way to the driver’s seat. “Med kit in the back. Hatch is marked. Fill your boots.” Gwen and I plop ourselves on a couple of the bucket seats, while Asher wheels himself over to the hatch where he finds a full-size med kit.

  He hands me a small package. “Stick this on the back of your head. Gently though. It’s a cool pack.”

  I moan. “It feels awful!”

  “You keep it there. Bit late for it now, but it might help. That damn cut of yours needs cleaning up, but I don’t want to start you bleeding again until you can get bandaged. I could give you a couple of painkillers but I don’t want to knock you out. I’m worried about you.”

  He wheels towards Gwen with some wraps and disinfectant. When he pours the gel over her cut, she whimpers. “I know, my love. Hurts. But it’s not so bad. You need to be seen by a medic, though.”

  Aiden speaks without turning around. “Uncle sorting that out. Back at the house.”

  “Your uncle is calling a medic over for us?”

  “Has one on staff. He has health problems. You looked like you needed it, so I asked.”

  “Who the fuck is your uncle?” I blurt out.

  “Uncle Charlie. He’s a good guy. Father’s brother. Works in engineering, kinda. We get on.”

  Aiden slows the ATR down as we go along a long row of little
town houses all squished together. He dials something on the com, and a large downstairs door opens for us. He drives the ATR right through it, into a large empty room, and then through another door on the opposite wall. We exit into a massive courtyard, at least twice as long as the Academy campus but much better kept. Instead of the bare expanse of moss of the Academy, here there are shrubberies of plants I’ve only seen in holos. In the distance I see water fountains. Water, being splashed around just for the look of the thing. I can’t describe what color the water is in the brightening night; I don’t have the words for it. I want to go and put my hand under it, feel the water splashing on my skin, but this is not the time.

  Aiden stops the ATR under a long archway, then turns to look at us. “We’re here. Off you get.”

  Gwen and I stagger outside behind him while Asher wheels his ATR down. I keep looking around and can’t believe what I’m seeing. Then something comes hurtling towards us, and I know that I’m dreaming. The concussion must have knocked me out. Or I’m seeing things. A small brown shape is racing towards Aiden. About knee high, brown, with four legs and a long tail, floppy ears flapping with the speed of its run, I know what I’m looking at. I’ve seen holos. I just never thought I’d see anything like this in real life. When the shape reaches Aiden, he bends down to tussle with it on the ground. “Good dog. You good dog.”

  Behind them, a man approaches. He looks like an older version of Aiden. Same blue eyes, same chiseled jaw, same sunken cheeks, same calm expression. “There you are. You made good time. What would you like first? Food, rest, or to see the medic? Raul shouldn’t start until nine, but I’ve warned him that there has been an emergency.”

  We look at each other blankly, until Aiden speaks up. “Food? While medic comes. Rest in med bay, maybe?”

  “Sure. Good plan. Martha should have everything set up by now. Are you ok to walk?” He’s looking at Gwen and me. I nod. Gwen manages a weak “yes, thank you.”

  “This way, then, please.” He leads us into a room that opens directly into the courtyard. The wall on the courtyard side is mostly glass, and the room is flooding with light as our star rises over the edge of the crater.

  Inside, a little lady in a black and white dress is taking the lids off a series of silver containers filled with actual food – not vat food, or, if it is, unlike any vat food I’ve ever seen or smelled. She smiles as we file in, then takes a good look at us and frowns.

  “You poor dears! You all look tuckered out! Let’s get something nice and warm inside you and then get you into bed.”

  “Raul will need to take a look at them, Martha,” Aiden’s uncle says.

  She spots Gwen’s bandage, and blanches. “I will go and call him now, if you’ll do the honors.”

  “Of course. If you could get their rooms all set up, that’d be grand.”

  I find my voice. “Can we stay together? Please.” Aiden’s uncle and Martha glance at each other. “It’s been a bad day,” I add rather lamely.

  “Sure. You poor thing.” She has to reach up to pat my arm. She’s smaller than Gwen, and that’s saying something. “How about if we get you in adjoining rooms? Or I could have a bed moved.”

  “No! Too much trouble. Sorry.” I’m ashamed of being so weak, and I feel myself blushing. That makes me feel ever more ashamed, even though my blushes don’t really show.

  “Nonsense. Nothing’s too much trouble for a friend of our Adrian.” She turns to look at Aiden with a fond smile, and he bends down to plant a kiss on her cheek.

  “Adrian?” I’m confused.

  He shrugs. “Long story.”

  Martha charges off and Aiden’s uncle starts to dish out the food.

  “Will you be having eggs?” He’s talking to me and I don’t know what to say.

  “Eggs? From a bird?”

  He looks mortified. “Oh! Sorry. You sit yourselves down, and I’ll sort you out. Anything you don’t like, leave it.”

  We sit at a massive table, bigger than the ones at the refectory, covered in an immaculate white cloth. Aiden brings me over a loaded plate as his uncle serves Gwen and Asher.

  I’m scared to touch the food. It looks so irregular. Strips of something crunchy, some tube-shaped things, a mound of the eggs and some loaf, plus some other things I can’t describe or recognize. It smells divine; almost too intense. Gwen picks up a fork first, and tries the eggs. Her eyes widen and she starts eating in earnest. Asher and I follow her example. Even through the headache and nausea and soreness and tiredness, it all tastes so good that I think I could eat until I’m sick.

  “So our Adrian has explained to me that you’re in a bit of a scrape, and need somewhere quiet to recuperate. Obviously you’re more than welcome. I suppose you will all want to rest today after Raul has finished with you, but if not I will be tinkering in the workshop. I’ve got a couple of prototypes I’d like to do a bit of work on.”

  “I’ll come over,” says Aiden. “Not tired yet.”

  Something about this place is incredibly soothing. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this. Maybe last year, before things got crazy at the Academy. Maybe at the lab. My head is sore and my eyes are disobeying me again and I’m so tired I could fall over, but I feel at peace.

  As I’m thinking that, day breaks over the crater rim. The room floods with golden light and I feel as if I’m being blessed by a god I haven’t found yet. Then my eyes send a stabbing pain to my forehead. Gwen sees me wincing and asks “if you’re full up, shall we go and see the medic?”

  “Of course!” says Aiden’s uncle. He leads us out of the golden room, down a long hallway, until we reach an open doorway.

  “Martha? Are we set up?”

  “Come in, come in!” The little lady is plumping up a pillow. I think it’s a pillow, anyway: it’s shaped like the pillows I know, but looks a lot bigger and pillowyer. It’s one of a set of many, perched on a bed that also looks bigger and bedyer than any bed I’ve seen before. Everything is white and cream and clean and tidy.

  “You poor child! You look set to drop! Sit yourself here.” She grabs me with gentle but determined hands.

  “I can’t sit on that. I’m filthy.” My clothes are still covered in... I don’t want to think in what.

  “Don’t be silly, dear. Beds are washable. People are washable too, but not now. We can worry about it after Raul has had a good look at you.” So I sit on the bed, and Martha plumps pillows around me.

  “You two, now, we have a room for you just here.” It’s through a side door. I can see their bed from mine – or I could, if my eyes hadn’t decided that they will just not stay still. Aiden helps Asher off the ATR and into the bed. Gwen sits up on it, looking uncharacteristically scared, but still tries to reassure Asher. “You can go to sleep, love. The medic is coming now.”

  “No chance. I want to make sure you two are ok.”

  “Just close your eyes, then. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Asher turns to look at her. “Woman, you’re trying to trick me. If I close my eyes I’ll pass out, and you know it.”

  “You’re the stubbornest man I know.”

  “Stubborn enough to put up with you.”

  “Pfft.”

  The sound of their voices is soothing, though I’m struggling to follow the conversation over the pounding noise of my heartbeat. Then a wave of nausea hits me. I try to get off the bed, to get somewhere where I can be sick, but sitting up suddenly makes me retch there and then.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Everything is too bright and too loud. Thinking about how I’m feeling makes me retch again. Martha rushes up to me with a wet cloth, and starts wiping my face. I can’t help crying then; I am making such a mess of this nice lady’s room, and my head hurts so much, and she’s trying to make me feel better but what she’s doing hurts, too. I want to go to sleep or pass out. I just want it to stop.

  When I open my eyes again, a stranger is standing by my bed, looking concerned. “Has he been sick before?”
>
  Gwen is standing next to him. “She. Yes, but that could have been shock. We’ve had an eventful night and no rest since.”

  “I’m going to touch your head. Is that ok?” I try to nod, but that sends waves of pain and nausea through me. The man touches my lump ever so gently, but it’s still enough to make me mewl. “Can you look at me, please? Follow my finger?” So much finger-following. Tricky. I’m tired. I close my eyes.

  “Concussion, for sure. Hopefully nothing worse. We’ll need him… sorry, her, under observation until she feels much better. If there are complications, it may be more than I can deal with here. I can give her some painkillers to help her sleep, but she will probably feel terrible tomorrow. Now, if you could sit down here, I would look at that arm.”

  The noise of their voices moves further away. I can still hear them, and Asher too. At some point Gwen cries out in pain and I want to see what is going on, go to her, but my eyes are so heavy when I try to open them. I struggle to fight this heaviness but Aiden is next to me, his arm around my shoulders, talking to me softly and holding me in the bed. Aiden is not a hugger. Weird. So heavy. Black.

  When my eyes open again, the light is dim in the sky. My head doesn’t hurt too much, but it feels full of fluff. Hot, soggy, heavy fluff. The lump on the back of my head hurts when I touch it – a sharp, urgent, electrical kind of pain. I don’t feel nauseated until I try to turn over. When I do, I find Gwen on the bed next to me, lying over the covers fast asleep. I want to hug her, but I don’t want to wake her up. She looks so tiny and so exhausted. So I just watch her breathe in and out, try to synchronize my breath to hers and see if I can find her in her dream, but I can’t. And I really need to pee. I try to get up without falling over or waking her up, but I’m only half successful.

  When I get back to bed, she’s rubbing her eyes. She still looks tiny and exhausted, but she shoots me a quick smile. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  “Hey you.”

  I squeeze in the bed next to her and we snuggle.

  “Where are the boys?”

  “Hog heaven. Aiden’s uncle has a workshop where he builds prototype engines and stuff like that. They’ve been talking over each other in monosyllables for hours.”