I lay half asleep that night, with a storm raging outside. Slowly, a far too modern noise mingled with the ancient thunder. I had had to be "on call" at any hour during the war, but I couldn't think of anyone who would be calling me so late: I hadn't talked with my parents for a long time, Washington was three time zones to the east, and Ronnie was next door.
There weren't any time zones in space.
I stumbled out of bed and lurched for the phone. "Hello?"
"Hello? Is this Cassie? I can't hear you."
In the darkness, I fumbled with the phone and turned the mouth and ear ends to their appropriate locations. "What about now?"
"That's better."
"Why are you calling so late?"
Darwin's voice came in. "It was the only time we could trust we'd actually get you. Keep quiet, Madra, Miriam will hear you."
"Trust you'd actually-what do you mean?"
"The last couple times it's been some guy saying not to bother you," Madra whispered.
"Which would be stupid if we didn't already know you lived here, because it lets us know that you do," Darwin remarked.
My tired brain worked to catch up with them. "Who? What did he say?"
"He said to stop calling and leave you alone."
For one long instant my mind was blank. Everything I understood about people no longer made sense. "Ronnie?" I whispered more hoarsely than I expected, as if I'd suddenly lost my voice.
"He didn't stay on long enough to give a name."
"All right. Well, I apologize, I hadn't been aware that was going on. I'll call you back sometime later-"
"No!" Madra interrupted. "Miriam doesn't know we're talking to you."
I laughed. "I think she might have noticed when I, oh, came into her house."
"She wasn't even there, she was out volunteering," Darwin explained. "We're old enough-well-I can look after myself."
"So can I!" Madra protested.
"I still don't have your phone number," I gently reminded them while noting their argument: it seemed to be a continuation of a much longer-running dispute.
Darwin gave it to me. "We'll call you, though. We don't mind getting sworn at."
"He's sworn at you?"
"Not too badly." He rattled off a couple words: while they were indeed not too foul, it was still a jolt to hear them from a thirteen-year-old as flippantly as he spoke.
But I could almost hear Rachel, fending off Hork-Bajir for the first time, yelling her makeshift war cries to the night.
"Mostly when Madrahit the redial button," he hissed.
"Calm down. I'll call you back in a couple days."
I hung up and stood gripping the phone, as if to steady myself, then calmly knocked on the door to Ronnie's room.
He groggily came to the door. "Hey. Still awake?"
I nodded in the semidarkness. "Yeah. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"Oh, no. What's up?"
"Have you been getting any phone calls? Or taking any for me?"
"Sometimes," he nonchalantly replied.
"How about some kids? Teenagers, maybe?"
"Oh, yeah." He narrowed his eyes. "They won't shut up. Did they call you this late?"
"Yeah," I said casually, trying to think about what to say. "Like you said, they don't shut up."
"I keep trying to get them to leave you alone, but they don't get the message. Sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for." I immediately abandoned my attempt to downplay the situation. "To me, anyhow."
"What, I should call them back and say I'm sorry?"
"Wouldn't hurt."
"Aren't you annoyed with them?"
"Not really." Baffled by? Worried for? Inexplicably fond of? I felt a lot of things towards the twins, but annoyance wasn't one of them.
It was too dark to see frustration growing on his face. "Cass, you can't just let random kids walk all over you. How do you know these brats?"
"One of them's a former Controller."
"There are counselors and stuff for them. They don't deserve to waste your time. You don't deserve to have them waste your time."
"My fate's been out of my control for a while," I replied bluntly.
"You're an amazing woman, Cassie, you can do whatever you want, and I just don't understand why you put up with that kind of crap."
"It's not crap," I retorted fervently. "Try talking to them before you write them off, will you?"
"I have talked to them, trying to let you spend your time in peace!"
"I spend all my time in peace, it's getting a little boring!" As soon as the words left my mouth I took a step back, repulsed. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"Not good enough for you anymore?"
"No, I-"
My mouth froze. Cliché sentiment was impossible to find. Ronnie half-loomed in the doorway-the other half was almost pitiful.
"You what?" He spoke beyond emotion, fueled by a dark strength.
"I…"
Ronnie, I thought, had filled the void that Jake left in my life, a seamless replacement. But stating that, or anything close, was impossible.
"What?"
"I'm just nineteen, okay? I don't know where my life's going yet," I blurted.
"Everything I've done for you? None of that matters?"
"What have you done for me?"
"I've rented these apartments, I've-"
"I can do that myself."
"You want to try?"
"No, I want you to…" Again I was trapped: there was nothing I truly desired from him, though I barely knew that, but I wanted him to remain calm. "Go back to bed, okay? We'll talk this over in the morning."
"You want me to go? Yeah, that's what I thought." He slammed the door shut.
I tried to count to sixty, gave up at fifty-four, and knocked on the connecting door. "Ronnie?"
No answer.
I walked into the hall, then knocked on the main door. "I'm sorry."
Silence.
I called him, figuring there was at least a chance he'd think it might be someone else, but he was wise to that too.
So I went back to bed. The storm was already subsiding, a muddy ground its only legacy, but sleep was a long time coming.