Eclipses v1 0, p.9
Eclipses (v1.0), page 9
Beth pulled the cable to the car and inserted it into the battery’s receptacle, aware that energy the battery used was better equated with that which was consumed by a streetlight back on Earth rather than at a fuel station. She’d get used to it, she supposed.
She helped Maria set the ramp for Calib’s wheelchair, then looked around for Aram. Hard-hatted men and women were everywhere, but she did not see Aram.
“He’s probably below yet,” Calib said as Maria wheeled him to Beth’s side. Calib’s condition had deteriorated over the winter, and now he was unable to operate the chair’s accelerator and steering mechanisms, so weak were his puffy hands. His skin was thin and stretched over fluid-filled flesh. White hair grew wispily and strawlike, but the blue eyes keenly regarded the dam, moving critically, happily from paving crews to passing concrete trucks.
“If you and Maria want to go down and get him, go ahead. I’ll wait here,” said Beth, wrinkling her sunburned nose at a sudden discomfort in her lower abdomen. The nose wrinkling didn’t ease it, and reflexively she massaged with her fingertips.
Maria saw and eyed her with concern. “Pain, Beth?”
The pain eased and Beth smiled at Maria, shrugging. “How are they supposed to feel?”
“Like a menstrual cramp at first,” Maria said.
Beth shrugged again. “That doesn’t help. I’ve never had any.”
Despite the construction noise, Calib had caught some of the women’s conversation. Beth, towering over his chair, was, as always, beautiful, especially when she moved—as she did now, seeking a pylon to lean upon—and especially beautiful with her hands on her hips, accentuating her pregnancy. Calib knew she was nearer to term than she appeared; she was so long between the pelvis and chest that pregnancy’s curve was only a slender arc. A child from her womb was bound to emerge fit and content, one worthy of carrying on the Empire dynasty. Calib looked at Maria, whose attention was still on Beth.
“Shall I stay with you?” she was saying. “I can get someone to take Calib down to the control room.”
“No,” Beth said. “I’m fine. I’ll stay here and enjoy the view.”
“Well …”
“Maria,” Calib said in his most quarrelsome and demanding tone. “Let’s go down.” Maria had become overly solicitous in her middle years, a trait he and Beth resisted and forgave, for her commendable qualities were dominant. Beth sneaked a wink as Maria rolled the chair past, and Calib accepted the thanks with a barely perceptible nod. The chair stopped.
“He’s come up,” said Maria.
No one waved or called to him, but Aram spotted them immediately and hurried away from the hard-hatted people emerging from the elevator with him. His quick smile and eager pace were a sure sign that the morning’s problems all had been satisfactorily resolved, making circumstances agreeable for taking him from work earlier than usual, as was the plan. Calib was well pleased with his son. He had had an early appreciation for the Empire and the awesome burden that would fall to him—and now did. But Aram had not lost track of life’s pleasures.
Aram’s arm encircled Beth in greeting, and Calib saw his hand pat child within, too, as they approached. “The whole family appearing here on the first hot day in spring can mean only one thing,” Aram said, grinning conspiratorially at Maria.
Aram was not exactly towered over by Beth, but he was decidedly shorter. His black curls, crushed by the hard hat he removed, came to her nose. She had a pleasing way of leaning her cheek against his hair, to which Aram generally responded with a quick kiss on her throat or collarbone. Calib had seen Aram level the height difference by swooping Beth into his arms and carrying her off to the nearest cushioned resting place. Calib often feigned naps to be able to watch his son caressing his lusty wife, envying him, admiring him, so happy for them both his heart ached from containing the secret pleasure.
“I thought you might be expecting us,” Maria said knowingly. “You’re always one to be on time for spring picnic.”
Aram made no denial. “Would you like a quick tour of the dam before we go? The weather was so poor the last time.”
The offer, Calib knew, was solely for his benefit. Beth and Maria might know that this dam was the largest ever attempted on Serensunar, and Beth even had a keen appreciation for the engineering feats involved in building a dam that could withstand the tidal forces Hunted Moon put on the land where the dam rested. But Beth had seen much larger dams on Earth and Maria wasn’t the least bit interested. A dam such as this was impossible in the riftlands and along the coast where it was needed most. A structure this large could not be built there, as the early settlers had discovered so painfully. Nothing much might happen for a few years—oh, tremors, yes, and some minor shifting were evident from day to day, and the big quakes didn’t happen every day nor in the same place when they did occur. But they weren’t fifteen or fifty years or even centuries apart as they were on Earth. No, they were two or three years apart in the heavily faulted riftlands, just long enough for settlers to believe they had a good start, only to find themselves wiped out by the land’s violence. The mountains were more solid, not troubled by the rifts that would eventually split the continent, nor as heavily faulted.
And since they were far from the worst known epicenter and since destruction dissipated with distance, he’d dared to build a dam of this size. Calib’s father had found the site and built his mansion above it, but it was Calib who found the engineers who could design and build such a big dam. It was the culmination of his dream, one that he knew his son would have to finish for him. Still, progress had been great, so the offer to see it was tempting.
But Calib also realized his stomach was grumbling from hunger. “We’ve had a long morning. Let’s get on with the picnic.”
They started toward the car. “What have you been doing?” Aram said, interested.
“We drove up the ridge to RECOM, then past on the new road for a long view of the valley. It was lovely,” Beth said. “Not a trace of fog. I saw my first tuweer bird. Loud voice and loud colors all rolled into one little bird. Calib tells me I may never see another unless you take me someplace special. He was being very mysterious.”
Aram turned, gave Calib a quick and puzzled glance. Calib shrugged. There had been something in his mind when he’d built the intrigue for Beth, but now he couldn’t recall what it was. He cursed the illness that caused distant memories to be more vivid than the previous hour. But Aram was picking up on Calib’s faded mystery anyway.
“It’s a place that is well hidden. You’re right, Calib. It’s a Beth kind of place. Rugged. Isolated.”
“Where?” Beth said, enticed by Aram’s deliberate vagueness.
Calib imagined Aram was smiling because his son shook his head and would not tell. But Calib felt foolish because his valley homestead, where the tuweers often nested, was not a secret to anyone, though isolated and unused. Of course, Beth did not know of it, so she would be surprised when Aram one day took her there, but there had been another reason he’d not told her of the valley himself. Important. Something Aram and Beth should share. It continued to evade him.
“Did you enjoy the drive, Maria?” Aram said.
“Me? These two needed airing,” Maria said seriously.
“She’s been cooped up day after day in your office working on those program-code things.”
“Only for a week, Maria,” Beth said. “I wanted to get some of it out of the way before Alexi decides to arrive.”
Calib shook his head. Too eager to wait for Research City to get around to coding all her finds, she had decided to learn how to code it herself. She refused Aram’s offer to have one of their programmers do the work, and Calib wasn’t sure if that had as much to do with Beth’s pride as it did her desire to find the Lost Expedition’s source of diamonds and stake a claim. Might be one and the same.
“Those diamonds have been waiting two hundred years,” Maria said. “They can wait another day.” Calib grinned. Maria had come to the same conclusion he had.
“They’ll wait more than a day,” Aram said. “She’s got a mountain of work.” Actually, Beth had accepted a lot of help from Aram and Calib, and he supposed that was a good sign. And Aram was exaggerating what lay ahead, for Research City had many programs available that could work on the data Beth was trying to code.
“Still, the first part of it is done, so I know I can do it. Now I’ve nothing to do but think about Alexi until I feel like working again.”
“That will be tomorrow,” Maria grumbled.
“You’ve only been back a week; you don’t know Beth. She’s inherently lazy,” Aram said. “You’ll have to kick her out of the nursery if you want to get anything done.”
“It’s true,” Calib said. “You’ve only witnessed one of her crazy streaks.”
“Yesterday you said I had single-minded purpose. I like that better than crazy streak.”
Calib chuckled. He enjoyed a good rapport with Beth, for which he was eternally grateful. With her great power over Aram, it would have been easy for a lesser woman to shuffle a crippled, old and dying man into the fringes of their lives. But as it was, he felt included at their center during what he knew were the last months of his life.
Aram disconnected the charging cable and, when he turned, saw Beth seated comfortably on the passenger side of the car, Calib and Maria in the back. He took the driver’s seat and began guiding the car along the serpentine route across the dam, back to the mansion. Calib stared at the relaxed but powerful muscles in his son’s neck, watched the shoulders flex under the clinging shirt, envying every movement. Presently, his gaze turned to Maria, sitting with her head against the window, cushioned there by the huge braided coils of graying hair. She was still handsome despite the nervous weight loss that was an annual winter event for her. She would gain pounds over the summer, as always, complaining about them, as always, and the angular face and sharp features would mellow with every day. And her temperament would soften, too. Not that she was ever truly crabby, just that she became singularly pleasant and lovely after she had been back at the mansion a while. Winters at her ancestral home took their toll on her, but she wouldn’t miss them for love of anyone.
The car turned and Maria was silhouetted in scintillating light. Calib blinked and closed his eyelids, picturing a suffused Maria in his mind’s eye while he slept.
The apple orchard was lacy with bright russet buds. Here and there branches were in full bloom. The highly spiced fragrance from the delicate blossoms drifted across the lawn to the road where Aram parked the car. Raucous, high-pitched calls of children at play filled Beth’s ears when she stepped out. Turning to the sound, she saw twins chasing at least a dozen older children across the lawn. Toddlers and tubbies struggled to keep up with the lively game of moon, which would take those children designated as Hunter Moon anywhere on the estate that the Hunted Moon children could run to or hide within. Beth had played the game last fall and, having been named Hunter Moon, she chased children until they scattered and went “below the horizon,” hiding in any shocking cranny, only to have them pop up from the horizon when her back was turned, screaming with delight, disappearing again. It was an exhausting game, and Beth soon learned it was better to be a Hunted Moon who could find a secluded garden comer where, with foresight, a tabloid could be stashed. Beth was foresighted, and the hoodwinked children had proclaimed her an inexhaustible and therefore welcome player..
The herd of galloping youngsters thundered past the car, shrieking in terror, screaming to horrify, and the smallest ones, kindly called stars, yelling encouragement as they puffed, trailing along. The horde swooped through the adult congregation at the orchard. Beth was sure some cake and imported fruits set bn a table would be reported missing momentarily.
“You could play star today,” Aram said, coming to Beth’s side, catching her hand in his. “Double star.”
“Nova,” Beth said, kicking off her shoes, picking them up, hardly breaking stride. She loved the feel of Serensunar’s turf beneath her feet. It was cool and refreshing, springing with new life. Aram was slowing their pace with his hand, but when they looked back at Calib’s wheelchair, Maria waved them on. “I thought the picnic was a surprise,” Beth said, “but it looks like a national holiday. Everyone is here!” She’d already spotted the technicians and recognized many of the servants and other contract-stringers and subcontractors who worked on the estate. There were also people she did not know; spouses and friends, she assumed, who apparently worked nearby and were able to leave their labors for the picnic.
“Spring picnic is an annual impromptu event in the Baron’s house. On the first really warm day, which must also be absolutely cloudless and cannot follow a rainy night, someone always takes a notion to have a picnic. Word gets around.” “Hope there’s enough food to go around. I’m starved.” “Don’t worry. The picnic is also very predictable. Maria’s been haunting me for satellite weather reports since the moment of her return. You can be certain the kitchen staff was well prepared.”
Beth laughed. “She’s incredible. She just walked in last week and took over. Did you know that last summer I thought she was a servant? … or Calib’s nurse, or something.”
Aram nodded. “She doesn’t bother getting close to transients. I’m not surprised that you didn’t know.”
“You should have seen how surprised I was when, on the first frosty day last fall, she handed me a bunch of keys, contract disks, a list of reminders for Calib, said farewell and left me with a household to run!”
“I didn’t think to warn you that Maria goes home for the winter. Her family has a sugar tree farm in the foothills. She always manages her own replacement. Never bothers me with it.”
“I almost handed you your own damn keys—” Beth stopped. She had been more frightened by the responsibility than angry, but with Maria already out the door, a greater fear arose. Any protest she could make to Aram would seem like belligerence, for her fears would be unreasonable to him. Since she was unwilling to have Aram angry with her, she’d risen to the challenge and found many agreeable compensations in managing the household.
“What stopped you?” he said.
“Honestly want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I was getting the benefit of living in the mansion, enjoying all the comforts, overall a much higher standard of living than my Research City contract could afford. It was time to contribute something.”
Aram looked at her thoughtfully, not pleased. “You should learn to receive as well as you give.”
She knew she must seem stubborn to him at times, most recently when he had wanted to get her a new wardrobe to use during her pregnancy and she had refused. He had been outraged that he was not to be allowed to assume half the extra expense when he was half responsible for her condition. He’d angrily asked her if she intended to be as selfish about the child. He could call it selfishness if he wished, but she had thought ahead to children before she contracted with him. She would have limited him to providing only half their needs if it had been practical. But she knew that if a child had special needs, needs that she could not even half-afford, she wouldn’t deny the child because of her pride. In truth, she recognized even back then that any child of the Water Baron would be special; it would have been foolish to pretend to match his ability to provide or for Aram to pretend he would change his standard of living to be within her means. None of the soul-searching had made Beth believe it was fair. She would never meet Aram on equal terms, unless … well, unless she found the diamond mine. She couldn’t help thinking that finding the Lost Expeditions diamonds might make her relationship with Aram easier. She’d have been out in the wilderness now, looking, if it weren’t for the pregnancy.
They walked silently, Aram steering them aside the crowd to the luxurious turf beneath full, blooming branches of an apple tree. The scent from the blossoms hung in the air like rich perfume, luckily a pleasing one to Beth’s nose. She sank gratefully onto the grass, leaning against the spongy bark of the tree trunk, suddenly realizing she was not only hungry but tired as well.
“Will you bring me a plate of food?”
“Are you all right?”
“Sure. But it does feel good to sit again.”
Aram nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She watched him; proud-paced steps, broad shoulders thrown back, chin high, lips smiling, hands moving in casual greeting to his friends. Then Beth looked at her swollen belly and gripped her sides as a painfully intense sensation spread from her pelvis. When it passed, Beth noted the time on her watch and looked up to see Aram had returned.
“You in a hurry?” he said, handing her their plates to hold while he sat down.
“No, not at all … mmm, this looks good.” But she ate sparingly.
Maria brought them drinks, staying and eating with them a while, until someone else drifted into their bower. The picnickers were flowing from place to place, yet all were contained within the unmarked boundary of the picnic area, talking easily, relaxed, satiating themselves with food and camaraderie. Children were less flowing, more lickety-split, eating on the run or taking the delectable booty to places below the horizon. Beth couldn’t have selected a more perfect day or a more pleasing diversion.
