Heinlein's Finches

by Robin Banks

  “Hours? What time it is?”

  “Not sure. Feels like dinner time. Oh: dinner time tomorrow. You slept a whole day through.”

  “What? Why didn’t you get me up?”

  “We did, for food and poops and stuff, but you just fell back asleep. Raul said it was best if you slept anyway because when you woke up you’d be hurting like a bastard. That’s the technical term, apparently. And anyway we all needed to catch up with our sleep. That Martha lady has been fussing over you all along, so I thought I’d spell her. She’s great. Then I closed my eyes for a moment, and next thing I know it’s gone dark. I hope we didn’t miss dinner. There was food made out of meat at lunch. I gave some to that dog. Would you believe it? I fed actual meat to an actual dog. She likes me now.”

  She snuggles even closer. “This is a wonderful place, loveling. Right in the middle of the bubble. You can see all the sky. And I fed an actual dog actual meat.”

  My stomach rumbles at that. “Stop talking about food. I don’t know if I want to eat everything, or never eat again.” A memory jolts me. “I threw up all over everything! That poor lady. I’m so sorry. What do I do?”

  “You say thank you and please, and you forget about it. The good medic informed us that after a blow like that you should have been lying down in a med bay under close observation, not racing up and down half the town looking after us.”

  “I thought it was you looking after me.”

  “Maybe we all looked after each other,” she squeezes me.

  “Gerroff me, woman. I’m filthy. You’re all clean and smell wonderful.”

  “You can have a wash if you want. They have baths. You sit in water and splash around as long as you want.”

  “Wouldn’t that be cold?”

  “No. You are in the water, in a big tub. Water up to your ears. Well, my ears. Your chest. Warm water. It’s wonderful.”

  I make a face. “It seems obscene. So wasteful.”

  “Yup. Still wonderful, though.”

  “If I have a wash like a normal person, will you make sure I don’t fall over?”

  “I can help, love. The bits I can reach.”

  “Yeurgh, my clothes are filthy. When did I get so filthy? The poor lady’s bed…”

  “If anyone had tried to move you or strip you or disturb you in any way, she’d have eaten them alive. She’s been looking after us all, but you’re her special chick. No wonder, so young and pretty and so banged up.”

  I frown. “Stop making fun of me. Help me get this dirty stuff off. Please.”

  Once I’m significantly less disgusting and in clean, borrowed clothes, I feel cautiously human again. Starving, though.

  “I’m sure there’s tea somewhere. Do you want me to call Martha and get you some food?”

  “Nah, I’ll walk. I’ll try to walk. I want to see the garden and the fountains and the dog. And the guys.” I suddenly realize I’ve been an asshole. “How is Asher?”

  “As good as he can be. Maybe better than we had a right to hope.”

  “And your cut?”

  She lifts up her sleeve, showing a long, clean bandage. “Raul had to do some stuff to close it off properly. He gave me a shot first. I didn’t want to see or know.”

  My heart churns. “Oh, Gwen. Those guys. You were so brave.”

  “I was scared and I was angry. Maybe I can never stop being angry now. I don’t know how I didn’t kill Marcus. Maybe I should have done. Maybe letting him go wasn’t the right thing to do.”

  “Are you sure he did it on purpose?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t really care. He’s been at Asher for months now. I feel awful for not doing something about it sooner.”

  “Why didn’t I see it?”

  “None of us did, not really. If I’d really seen it, I’d have skinned the guy.”

  I try to think about the fight in the tower, but I can’t picture it clearly. It seems either too vivid to be real, or not real at all. I shudder. “Are they looking for us?”

  “Nothing came out officially. Not even a report of three dead cadets. Impressive cover-up. I wonder who found the bodies.”

  When I realize there’s no going back, my stomach sinks. “Now what?”

  “Now you forget about this, and we find you some food. There’ll be plenty of time to worry and plan. We’re safe here. And we all need to get better, you most of all.”

  With my arm over her shoulder, walking is not so bad. I can actually take in the house, now. Everything is so clean. Neat. Probably heinously expensive. There’s a lot of empty space, but it doesn’t feel bare or hollow. It makes me feel as if I’ve been cramped all my life without realizing it.

  Gwen sees me looking around. “This place is two streets down from Landing. The sides look like rows of individual houses, when it’s actually a single humongous block with a courtyard in the middle. But unless you’re paying attention, which people hardly do, it just looks like any other place. Hidden in plain sight.”

  When we get to the dining room, the guys are already there, sitting in some low, padded chairs, smoke coming out of their mouths. When they see my horrified expression, Asher and Aiden burst out laughing. While Asher is still roaring, Aiden explains. “Original Terran smokes. Well, modified. Safe. Taste awful. But makes us look cool.”

  “We can also offer you some whiskey,” Aiden’s uncle cuts in. “Though your friend reckons that it tastes like burnt mud.”

  “Or a tire fire,” quips Gwen.

  Aiden’s uncle rolls his eyes. “Heathens!”

  “She can’t drink anyway. Raul said so, and Martha would have our hides.” Gwen frowns. “Where is Martha? I thought she’d be telling me off for getting Quinn out of bed by now.”

  “She’s probably supervising dinner, making sure that there are enough varieties of soup for a squadron and that Adrian’s getting his favorite desserts.”

  Aiden smiles. “She spoils me. I like it.”

  “She likes it too.” We hear her voice through the open door. She walks in, preceded by a trolley loaded with food. “Oh, you poor darling, you are up! But why are you standing? Why didn’t anyone get her a chair?”

  “I’m ok. Just hungry.” I feel mortally embarrassed. “Sorry about the mess yesterday.”

  Martha rushes up to me, gets on her tiptoes and pats my face. “Oh dear, don’t be silly. You weren’t well at all. If I could catch whoever did that…” Her eyes narrow, and I have no doubt whatsoever that she’d be as good as her words. She’s probably the sweetest, scariest, littlest lady I ever met. And I live with Gwen. “Anyway, you sit yourself here and try some soup. Raul said light foods only until we’re sure you can manage it.”

  My face drops, and she grimaces. “Oh, but, dear, I’m sure you could try some other little bits. The medics don’t know everything.” And she pats my arm as I sit down.

  The food is incredible. I can’t believe Aiden and his uncle can eat with such nonchalance. Even Asher seems to be enjoying himself, savoring it instead of just consuming it. Gwen looks like she’s about to have an orgasm. I’m momentarily jealous; I’m not sure I ever managed to make her look so delighted. I’ve still got more questions than I have answers about our situation, and about how Aiden got an uncle with a mansion with fountains and actual meat to eat, but they can wait.

  After everyone had finished eating, Martha insists that I get checked out by the medic. My bed has been magically made cleaner and even plumper. I don’t want to lie down again; I don’t feel tired as such, but if I lie down I may never manage to get up again. I don’t feel like upsetting Martha either, though, so I do as I’m told.

  The medic reminds me of Aiden. Though he’s much older and looks nothing like him, he exudes the same air of calm confidence about his own competence. He prods the lump on my head, which still hurts like blazes, and does some funny stuff with my eyes, which for a welcome change doesn’t make me want to throw up.

  “I am very happy with your progress, and I can’t see any signs of com
plications. I still want you under observation, though. I would recommend a couple of days of bed rest, but I am sure you will be in no mood to just lie around and do nothing until I say otherwise. I’d be much happier if you could avoid too much bouncing about, though. No flying or changes in gravity until the swelling has gone down and I’ve given you the all-clear. If you go swimming...” I can’t stop looking shocked “…or take a bath or do anything where if you fall or lose consciousness you could hurt yourself badly… Well, I recommend you don’t, but if you do at least don’t do it alone.”

  He looks embarrassed. “Your friends tell me that you have psi-bilities. I’m afraid I have neither the knowledge nor the experience to help with that. I don’t know if you need to rest them, test them, or what.” He raises his hands in frustration. “The Fed won’t release any information on the subject. Then again, it’s an uncommon enough problem that they can justify withholding it. Not that they have to justify their actions,” he sighs. “So I don’t know if any help is needed in that respect, or if I can provide it. But if I can, please don’t hesitate to ask. If it’s a private matter, then I’m sorry I mentioned it. But as your medic…”

  “It’s not something I’m ashamed of.”

  He looks horrified. “That’s not what I meant! It’s just that there is no protocol for this.”

  I smile then. “There is no protocol on my side, either. I have to make things up as I’m going along.” I think back about our three-way link with Asher. I’m still not sure about that one. I look at the medic. I’ve got to ask. “You’re not scared I might do something objectionable?”

  He looks shocked. “What? Why? If you wanted to hurt me, well, you could anyway. You’re much bigger than me. I’d rather trust your character, your unwillingness to do me harm, then your lack of abilities or opportunities. If the only thing stopping you doing something objectionable is that you’re incapable of it, well, that could change anytime.”

  He frowns. “The character of a person, that’s something I feel I can rely on. If it turns out not to be what I thought it was, chances are that my assessment was wrong, rather than the person has changed. I’ve been wrong before and I’m sure I’ll be wrong again. But here I’m relying on Adrian’s opinion, and I’ve known since he was a toddler. So if as part of your recovery you need to take a stroll through my brain, you have my permission as an individual and my encouragement as your medic. And yes, I can’t say that the prospect doesn’t scare me, but it interests me, too. Curiosity tends to be the downfall of the likes of me. Anyway,” he shakes himself off, “I think I’ve lectured you enough for one day, or three. Rest if you will, don’t do anything reckless unless you really want to, and I’d like to see you again tomorrow morning if you’ll allow me.” And he gets up to get out.

  He’s nearly at the door before my tongue catches up with my brain. “If you would let me… Tomorrow, maybe, or later… I would like to check my psi-bility with you. Maybe with one of the guys, but with you present? I’ve been getting some awful headaches lately. And with the pain from getting whacked and everything, it got too much, and I shielded. I don’t want to unshield in case my head splits open.”

  “Absolutely. When you’re good and ready. There is no reason to believe that the blow would have had any impact on your psi-bility. But,” he adds ruefully, “we do not fully know how psi-bilities work, either.”

  That scares me. My psi-bility is as much a part of me as my hands.

  He walks to the door, then turns around. “It’s probably highly unethical on my part, but if I catch you doing something reckless, I’ll tell Martha. She’s grown very fond of you. She’d give you hell. So behave.” And he goes off.

  A few minutes later, Gwen and Asher come in. I nearly have a heart attack right there and then, because Asher is walking, sort of. On crutches, and very rigidly and haltingly, with Gwen hovering right next to him, but he’s upright and self-ambulatory.

  “Do not get up. Medic said you need rest. I’m getting there. Slowly.” When he reaches the bed, he sits down and Gwen helps him lift his legs over. “Unhand me, woman! I’m perfectly capable of laying out my own carcass.”

  “Pfft. I’m rather invested in that carcass of yours. Why do you think I keep you around?”

  He sighs. “I thought it was because of my folksy charm and dazzling sense of humor.”

  “Will you two shut the hell up and tell me what the hell is going on now? You’re walking!”

  “Yes and no. Check these babies out.” He points to a strange structure encasing his legs, over two new casts. “Raul and Uncle Charlie’s collaborative production. The frames allow me to stand up without putting my full weight on my leg bones – though Raul reckons that they’re nearly ready for that. He was third class too, would you believe it? We had a good time boasting about the superiority of our people. You fancy folks wouldn’t understand it.”

  I could kill him sometimes. “You’re exasperating, you know that?” Gwen nods in agreement. “You can shut up; you’re just as bad as he is. So you can walk now?”

  “Little bit. I mustn’t push it, but some pressure now will be good for the bones. Encourages them to knit harder, or something. Superbones!”

  Gwen has snuggled up to the other side of me. Soreness and all, I’ve never felt so comfortable in my life.

  “My cut is healing well too, not that anyone cares,” she sighs dramatically. “We’re all big, damn heroes. We’ve done the improbable, and that made us dented.”

  Asher shakes his head at her. “You are such a nerd.”

  “Takes one to know one. On a more important note, now that you’re both here and awake: I was wrong, and you were right. Again. Don’t turn this into a habit, or I might start resenting the both of you.

  “Whatcha mean?”

  “We should have split weeks ago. Maybe months. Maybe not as soon as it all started, but as soon as we figured out that it wasn’t going to stop. The pressure built up so gradually that I didn’t realize what it was doing to me. To us. Now that it’s gone, I don’t even know how to feel. It’s such a relief. And it’s taken me nearly losing the two of you to work out that the situation was just not ok. Raul reckons that if it hadn’t been for your hair cushioning that blow, it could have killed you.” She looks as if she’s struggling not to cry. “I was so invested in being a badass, in being someone who could cope with anything, that I forgot that some things you don’t cope with. Some things you walk the hell away from. Run, even. I hope you will forgive me.”

  We both try to talk over her, but she stops us. “No, hear me out. It’s not my fault that some assholes tried to bump me off, but it is my fault that I stood there and took it, and that I made you two stand there and take it too. It all just crept up on me, you know? I would never have walked straight into that, but it all built up over time. Step by step. And one day I looked around and I couldn’t recognize where I was and couldn’t understand how I got there. So I’m sorry. Gods, I don’t ever want to be in a situation like that again.” Asher stretches his arm behind my back to stroke her hair.

  “So what now, milady? Where to next?”

  “I have no idea. Unlikely we’ll be able to retrieve our credit. The moment we touch our accounts they’ll know where we are, if they’re looking. Whoever ‘they’ is, if ‘they’ exist. I don’t think we can risk that. So we lost everything.”

  “Woman, don’t get melodramatic. You’re bad enough when you’re pretending to be rational.” Gwen leans forward to stick her tongue out at him, though her eyes are still teary. “Yeah, that’s one of your few good points. You can put that to good use in a moment. You’ve been neglecting your marital duties. I don’t know why I keep you around.” I can’t stop guffawing. If looks could kill, Asher and I would both be dead.

  He carries on talking, undeterred. “So we don’t have jobs or credit. But we have precisely what we started out with, namely nothing but our wits and abilities and so on and so forth. And now we’re better trained, and maybe a little bit wi
ser. And we’re together. We managed to get somewhere the first time round, and we were young and clueless and on our own. The three of us together, we could really do something. Hell, this time around we can actually decide what we want to do, instead of falling into whatever is in front of us.”

  “But what are we going to now? Until we start doing what we’re going to be doing? Whatever that is.”

  “Charlie is a great guy, and not pushed for resources. He’d put us up as long as we need him to just because he’s kind, and because he loves Aiden, but I can actually earn my keep here. He has the best prototypes, and he can’t fly. He can barely run a simulation. What wouldn’t I give to actually test them…” he trails off, then collects himself. “I can help him out with that. Pull my weight, for a change. After we leave here, we’re no worse off than when we started out, we’re better equipped to deal with stuff, and we’re together. So, overall, we’re better off. That’s how I choose to look at it, anyway.”

  “But what about me?” Gwen asks. “What good could I possibly be?”

  Asher’s face splits in a dirty grin. “I’ve got a couple of manuals you can look at. Give you a few ideas. They’ve got pictures.”

  “Stop it.”

  “About time you went back to your proper place, anyway. Keep my house, ready my food, suck my dick. Have my babies.” His grin looks awfully tentative.

  “Say what?” blurts out Gwen.

  “Once we’re settled doing whatever we decide to do. I wouldn’t mind putting a baby or three inside you. Be nice to have some little mini-mes around. You know, with my dashing good looks. And my brains. And my temper. Gods help us if they take after you; my tender sensibilities couldn’t handle that. I’d do the job myself, really, and not involve you at all, just to be on the safe side, but I’m ill-equipped.” He waves vaguely at his abdomen. “So all I can do is stick them into you, and hope that incubating inside of you doesn’t ruin them forever. Quinn can help, too. Not with the incubation, I mean, but with the baby-sticking-ining. And the raising them not to be little beasts like you.” He looks uncertain. “If you two wanted, I mean. Obviously. I just thought it’d be, well, kinda perfect.”