Eclipses v1 0, p.22
Eclipses (v1.0), page 22
“Welcome back,” Aram said, firmly clasping his hands on Shelley’s arms in. greeting, which Shelley returned one-handed, the other still holding his rolls of prints.
“Thanks. I feel I’ve been gone a year. A lot has happened in my absence,” Shelley said. “You must have stopped the shuttle landings right after I left.”
Aram nodded with a frown, instantly irritated. He had spent the hardest year of his life keeping the passes open to the refugees against his better judgment, their numbers swelling on the coast and the waters in his reservoir shrinking. “I suppose you have an unsolicited opinion for me, too,” he said to Shelley.
“Sure,” the big engineer said, his face bland. “It took a lot of guts, and I’m glad it was you who had to make the decision and not me.” Shelley’s smile was compassionate, his eyes sincere.
“A lot of people don’t agree with you,” Aram said, unable to help the bitterness he felt.
“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t. I never would have believed Serensunar could or would launch a satellite defense team.”
Aram nodded. The thought of losing some of the satellites was frightening, for if it did happen it would likely mean war … against sleeping men, women and children. “One of those space jockeys made a threat. Research City had no choice but to take her seriously.” He sighed unhappily. “And they accuse me of acting irresponsibly and criticize me for playing god.”
“A vocal minority. I should think you’d be used to that by now,” Shelley said.
“It’s difficult to ignore your own family’s opinions,” Aram said. He reached for his pipe, which was already filled with tobacco.
“ Alexi?” Shelley said, looking as if he hoped it were not so.
“Yes, Alexi. And Beth and Maria and six-year-old Hilde. Our dinner table hasn’t been this lively in a year.”
“Maybe you could arrange for them to spend some time on the coast, where the refugee impact hits hardest.”
“It backfires,” Aram said. “I can’t begin to work with all the factions, but I swear Beth and Alexi can and do.” They hadn’t actually gone to the coast, but they had spent a lot of time with coastal folk on the commscreens. Aram had to admit there were good people there, and communities that functioned as well as or better than anything in the Empire. But there were the little robber barons, too, grabbing up power under the guise of altruism; or was it merely coincidence that every refugee the robber barons had brought down meant more support for their own private little enterprises? Alexi had thought Aram too harsh in his judgment, though he hadn’t been naive enough to believe it wasn’t happening at all.
Shelley was in thought, nodding absently. “Every drought year, half the coast gets restless because they’re hungry and watching their life’s work shrivel up and blow away. Some of those groups just disappear with the arrival of the rain.”
“Well,” Aram said disconsolately, “the rains have started again, and they cite that as the best reason for continuing the shuttle landings. They have two hundred years of weather patterns to look at and they refuse to admit that half the settled land is in the rain shadow.”
Aram sighed. “We need water in the Empire, too,” he said. He gestured to the roll of papers under Shelley’s arm.
The engineer nodded and couldn’t have looked more smug as he grinned and spread a map over the papers on Aram’s desk.
“There’s a place that’s perfect,” Shelley said. “Local supply for the earthfill, though we’ll need a road to get to it, and a natural bed for anchoring the stress system.” He traced his finger over a slender blue and snaky line and stopped at a penciled-in circle. With a bit of flair, he snatched away the map to expose a larger relief of the locality he had selected, which was resting underneath.
“We’ll have to move the railhead to here,” Shelley was saying, pointing again. “But that won’t be a problem because this one over here is only proposed. It’s been surveyed, and I know they’ve started laying track; but that’s a minor loss. Your people can have the new route surveyed in a few weeks, maybe even begin construction before fall. We’ll need the monorail to bring in the heavy equipment because the closest site for a dirigible port is six kilometers from the dam with a volcano between.”
Aram was looking more closely, noticing the names on the map and realizing just exactly where Shelley planned to put the dam. It was on the Little Sister River, above Erik’s vineyard. Shelley was still talking, enthusiastically describing the site, but Aram no longer heard. The dam would divert a lot of water from the river to irrigating the’ fertile but dry valleys around the volcano, leaving little for expansion of the vineyard. The little community in the foothills would be doomed without irrigation water of their own. Aram shook his head and felt sick inside over what he knew he must do.
“What’s the matter, Aram?” Shelley said, finally noticing Aram’s lack of enthusiasm. “This is it. We’re ready to go ahead.”
“No,” Aram said. He turned away, unable to meet Shelley’s eyes.
“What do you mean, no? We’ve been working on this for a year.” Shelley’s voice was suddenly angry, and Aram couldn’t blame him.
“Shelley, I’m about to do something I have never done in my entire life,” Aram said. He turned to the engineer again, feeling that it would be cowardly to speak in any way but face-to-face. “I have never allowed personal feelings to influence my decisions on what is right for the Empire until now.” Aram was struggling for words, and Shelley was getting pale as he hung off every one. “And I know that I’m not being at all objective, and to tell you the truth I can’t help it. When it comes down to affecting my relationship with …”
“You’ve found out about Beth and me,” Shelley said.
Aram didn’t have to ask for a repeat; Shelley’s words registered instantly and saturated his entire being with the knowledge that Beth had been sleeping with Shelley. It fit into place so quickly; the casual absences, the unexplained moodiness, even the excitement about her. that seemed to come and go like magic throughout the long winter. Aram had blamed a lot of that on Erik’s absence and Beth’s wondering if he were even alive. Now he knew that he’d been wrong, and that he’d been wrong for a long time.
He became aware that he was still staring at Shelley, who was returning his stare, jaw set defiantly, waiting for Aram to react. Those sharp blue eyes had seen Aram’s clenched fist, he was sure, but it wasn’t Shelley he wanted to hit.
“I didn’t know,” Aram said slowly. “But now I do.”
Shelley’s eyes widened with disbelief as he understood what his quick tongue had done. “Damn,” he said. He turned and started rolling up the maps, muttering oaths under his breath, his face getting redder every second. “There’s no fidelity clause in your contract with her, you know,” he said, suddenly defiant.
“I know what’s in my contract,” Aram said angrily. “It’s a matter of trust.”
“Trust?” Shelley said, his eyes flashing from the depths of a blood-darkened face. “I’ve broken no trust with you, Water Baron. To the letter, to the phrase …’’He shook a fist full of maps, and though Aram knew Shelley was seeing years of work and a lifelong dream go down the drain through no fault of his own, Aram was just bitter enough to let him believe it. But Shelley was too smart to be fooled for long, even in a fit of rage. He quieted for a moment, reconsidering as he watched Aram. “You’d have hit me by now if you were going to. It’s Beth …” He seemed to suck in his breath. “Aram,” he said wamingly.
Aram had no doubt Shelley would try to protect Beth if he thought she were in danger, and he realized Shelley had no way of knowing that she wasn’t. Feeling like hitting her was one thing; actually doing it was another. Aram turned away. “Shelley,” he said. “Get out.”
The man didn’t answer, issued no threats; Aram only heard the rustle of paper as he finished gathering up the maps. When he thought Shelley must be at the door, he said, “Don’t tell her that I know.” The door opened and Aram whirled around. “Did you hear me?” he demanded.
“Yeah,” Shelley said, and closed the door quietly behind himself.
Aram waited a few minutes, feeling hot, angry blood coursing his veins. It was stupid, he knew. He had just told Shelley to continue his carrying on with Beth, and the rage that caused made him want to scream with anger. But what was he to do? Confront her? He couldn’t do it calmly, not while he was hurting so bad and feeling so angry that he couldn’t see through his tears. He would frighten her right out of the house and into Shelley’s arms.
But he couldn’t stand still another minute with visions of Beth in Shelley’s arms tormenting him like fire. He stormed from the office with a mind to find her right now and let her see what she had done to him. But in the hall he thought he saw a glimpse of her blue sari in another doorway, and he turned in a panic, stalking from the house at a near run through the back door.
He did want to hit her, to do something to make her understand how much it hurt and how angry her infidelity made him. He knew he wouldn’t really hit her, not even in a blind rage, but why shouldn’t he confront her with what he knew? Wasn’t he entitled to know if she had any love left for him?
He left the back courtyard and walked quickly over the lawn, heading up the trail to RECOM without really knowing where he was going. He didn’t give a thought to the house-shoes he was wearing, and when he slipped on the dusty trail for lack of lugs on the soles, it only made him curse and deepened his anger. He climbed higher and higher, wondering what to do. Whatever it was, he needed to do it right,“to take time to think, and this damnable trail would use up all the angry energy and clear his brain.
Below the RECOM tower he stood panting. There was no one around to see him dripping with sweat and tears or take notice of the dirt on his clothes. So, now what? He was as alone as he could want, so drained that his legs felt watery, and still so full of fury that he picked up the ax at the woodpile by the communication shack and took some angry whacks at the chopping log. Stupid, he told himself. Shelley and Beth would be in bed together tonight unless he did something drastic. Could Aram sleep while knowing what she was doing with him?
Forcing some measure of calm into his brain, he walked slowly away from the shack into the woods, still holding the ax in his hand. It wasn’t as if he had never given a thought to Beth having a lover before. He knew she’d had one. But that had been different because he hadn’t found out until the affair was over. He didn’t believe Beth had any regrets when it was over, though she had been gravely concerned over the parentage of the child she was carrying. Aram hadn’t told her of his suspicions—no, his certain knowledge—that the child was her lover’s. He never spoke of the affair, for, since it was over, he thought that recriminations were useless. And it was more important to convince her that her aborting anyone’s child had to be her own decision. Marc had been bom of that union, and Aram was certain Beth was pleased with her decision to bring the pregnancy to term.
This affair with Shelley was quite different. It wasn’t over, a thing of the past that Aram could choose to ignore. His mind would have her in bed with him, sharing laughter and intimacies even when she was really on innocent errands, and just thinking about it made him cry out. He hefted the ax and swung at the nearest tree, pouring all his strength into the blow. The blade bit the bark and a huge chunk flew. And if he couldn’t stand by and know—whack—that Shelley and Beth— whack—were sleeping—whack—together, why didn’t he— whack—tell her what he knew? Whack. Whack.
He kept chopping, as aware that he was destroying a big seed oak as he was aware that he was afraid to confront Beth. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—risk letting her see his anger, whether real or imagined, while she could run safely down the hill to someone she loved and trusted. Oh, how vividly he could see her fleeing, how fast she could run, and even how broadly Shelley’s arms opened to receive her. He feared seeing that happen as he feared nothing else—not the lonely nights or the tortured days that were sure to be his.
He heard a crack and stepped quickly back from the tree as it started to lean. It fell with a resounding crash that obliterated Aram’s final scream of anger and anguish. Then he stood, listening to the twitter of confused birds and watching the dust settle around the fallen giant. Finally he walked back to the shack, dragging the ax with his left hand. He let it drop by the woodpile and stumbled back down the * trail to the mansion.
Chapter 22
The next morning Aram sat in his office with a cup of coffee. Beth had been gone half the night, and he had feigned sleep when she came in, lying there, afraid to move. She was restless and had tossed until dawn, but he hadn’t stirred until he was sure she’d finally fallen asleep. Then he had gotten up and come to his office, unable to eat even a small breakfast. Messages were already on the screen, and one of them was from Shelley, marked urgent. Aram knew the project was one thing he couldn’t put off this morning. He wasn’t going to send Shelley away, for he didn’t want Beth tempted to leave with him. Likewise, he didn’t want Shelley deciding to leave on his own. He should have done it last night—the project deserved some sort of consideration even if the man didn’t— but when he’d come home to find Beth already gone, he knew Shelley wouldn’t be alone. Well, he might be afraid to lose Beth, but he wasn’t afraid to face Shelley. He turned on the commscreen and called Shelley.
The full-color commscreen was two-way, and Aram was somehow gratified to see that Shelley looked as if he’d had no sleep either. It wasn’t much comfort to know the man had a conscience, but it was something.
“I got your message,” Aram said curtly.
Shelley nodded. “You deserved to know that it’s over.”
“You couldn’t tolerate my knowing,” he said, not even trying to hide the sneer in his voice.
“She couldn’t,” Shelley said, his eyes narrow now.
Aram stiffened, unwilling to let surprise show on his face.
“Sorry, Aram. It was bad enough to be fooling you. I couldn’t try to fool her as well. I didn’t want to live that way.” Shelley leaned forward and for a moment his face was grotesquely large on the screen. Aram guessed he had turned on the visual tracking. When Shelley got up, the commscreen view followed him. Aram watched him pour something from a jug. He held it up, looking directly into the screen. “Hope you don’t mind. I’m trying to get drunk, and not having a damn bit of success so far.” He drank deeply from the mug. “No contest, Water Baron. I don’t know if she’s afraid to leave you or if she doesn’t love me enough. Whichever, she won’t contract with me … Shit, don’t want a woman without courage and don’t want one without love, either.”
He was drunk, Aram realized, though not so drunk that he didn’t know what he was saying. Aram felt no pity and had no intention of indulging in maudlin conversation with him. “Shelley, when you’re ready, get in touch. Alexi will handle the project from now on. He’ll explain about the alternate sites.”
“Alternate?” Shelley said dumbly.
Aram snapped off the screen. The simple act of breaking contact with Shelley somehow renewed his strength. That sudden surge of strength was tied, of course, to knowing that Beth was upstairs sleeping in his bed. The danger of her leaving him was past; the fears of yesterday seemed insane, ludicrous in today’s light. She didn’t need a man to run to if she wanted to leave, she never had. She knew better than to believe that just changing partners would solve any basic unhappiness, and so far as Aram knew, Beth was not unhappy. Shelley was nothing more than an interlude in her life that had run its course naturally. Vaguely Aram even recalled promising Beth that he would try to be understanding if there ever were other men in her life. Forgiveness wasn’t supposed to be a part of it; just a basic trust on his part that as long as she stayed in his home, he should know she loved him. Even so, though the fear was gone, the anger was not.
Aram thoughtfully relighted his pipe. This time it stayed lighted and he sucked deeply. He would control the anger, of course, for he believed he had no right to be angry. She had never promised fidelity, and he hadn’t either for that matter. He had no control over her behavior and he didn’t want to have any, else she wouldn’t be the Beth he loved. It was simple now ; there was nothing to be said or done or to worry about.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?
The solution, he decided, was obvious. He just needed to get back to work. He turned to the computer terminal, determined to go through the list of messages personally and to leave nothing for Alexi to do. He had just begun to type his first response when the terminal keyboard shook beneath his fingers and the very chair he was sitting in began to sway. He heard the cup on his desk rattling against the wooden surface and the windows shuddered noisily; then the entire house seemed to be in motion, creaking and moaning at the joints. For an instant he was stunned; how could this be happening in his Empire, where the earth lay still? Yet just as quickly he knew it was an earthquake, and he struggled to his feet and walked with his legs spread apart like a drunken man to the doorway. Even through the soundproof walls, he could hear the earth groaning, reverberating like monstrous hollow bones. Eerily, his desk had begun walking, following him across the room. Aram held on to the doorknob, afraid to take another step or even to open the door, knowing he would be flung down if he did. The window split and shattered, and a few shards fell out, the rest remaining in the pane, adhered by plastic lamination. The shaking stopped. It couldn’t .have lasted more than ten seconds from start to finish, and yet his office looked ruined.
Aram opened the door, having to throw his entire weight against it to make it move. Some of the technicians were already in the hall, their faces uniformly pale.
“Get the power turned off,” Aram snapped. “Then get out. There may be aftershocks.”
He didn’t wait to see if they’d do as they were told but ran down the hall to the staircase, leaping over shattered lamps and pushing through a web of fallen trim to get there.
