Chapter 10
While Roger Smith was busy with his first big case, Rowan Daestar had driven her small black sports car far beyond the golden domes of the city.
The moldering devastation of Paradigm's outer perimeter had given way first to sparkling mansions, then small settlements, then forest as nature quickly reclaimed the land. Finally the curving road broke through the dark curtain of trees, opening onto a lush expanse of greenhouses and manicured fields.
This was an area known as Islesberry. It was one the largest agricultural laboratories run by Paradigm Corporation. It was also a favored retreat of Gordon Rosewater, one of the founders of Paradigm Group and the father of its current president, Alex Rosewater.
This was a familiar journey for Ro. As usual, her presence had been requested for a two-fold task. Her first duty had been to examine and treat Gordon Rosewater. Her second had been to review research papers on current experiments being run at the farm. Again, none of this was out of the ordinary, for she was as highly regarded for her scientific and medical acumen as she was for her negotiating skills. In truth, both required the same traits of trustworthiness and shrewd intelligence.
At this moment Daestar was seated at a large wooden table in the farm's comfortably homey kitchen. Although it was only a little past dawn, she'd already had breakfast and was on her second cup of coffee. She always found herself impressed by the rustic luxury of this place; certainly it was nothing like the decayed and abandoned little farms of her grim childhood.
Reading over her lab findings, the young physician reflected on how ironic it was that her patient suffered from Alzheimer's Disease, that he would eventually suffer a second loss of memory even more total than the amnesia caused by the mysterious Event of forty years past.
Gordon Rosewater and his son Alex entered the kitchen. The two men couldn't have looked more different (despite their facial similarities.) Gordon's fuller face was relaxed, genial; he was dressed casually in jeans and a red plaid shirt. He looked and acted like a cross between a gentleman farmer and a stereotypical favorite older uncle. It was very hard not to like the old man, despite his brutal past.
Alex Rosewater, on the other hand, was every inch the smug elitist. His sense of entitlement oozed from him. As usual, he was sharply turned out in a spotless white suit. No matter how dirty his past was, it never seemed to sully the man.
Quite frankly, Ro didn't trust father or son, and her long association with them hadn't improved her opinion of the pair either. She continued dealing with them out of fear, but not so much for her own well-being (though that was a concern.) Rather, it was fear for the safety of her "uncle" Dan Dastun in particular and the rest of the community in general.
On some level, Rowan believed Dastun could not have rescued her without some intervention from Gordon Rosewater. She couldn't prove it and Dastun denied it, but she knew it in her gut.
As for safeguarding the populace at large, by getting involved in the plant research she had stopped several potential disasters. Just a year ago Paradigm Corp had been on the verge of offering a wholly synthetic coffee...the only problem was the bean became toxic when roasted at a certain temperature. It would have sickened, possibly killed, thousands. She had caught the spontaneous gene mutation the Islesberry lab techs had missed.
No matter how Ro thought it through, she was stuck with the Rosewaters.
The older Rosewater sat down at the kitchen table across from her. "Well, my dear, what have you learned about me this time? Please don't spare my feelings. I know I'm an old man but I'm still tough." He laughed and patted her hand with his great paw.
The young woman glanced up at Alex Rosewater. He nodded an almost imperceptable "yes." There was no expression on his angular face.
"Well," began Rowan, "I will be blunt about this, Gordon. The disease is continuing to progress. Despite everything I've tried, I can't repair the damage you have already suffered. I can't stop it from continuing to damage you. I can't heal you. The prognosis is still terminal. All I can do is slow it down. I'm sorry." She WAS sincerely sorry - Daestar hated to see anyone suffer.
Gordon nodded. "I see. Alex..." he looked round to his son, "would you mind leaving us alone for a while? I wish to make an indecent proposal to Dr. Daestar and I don't want her embarrassed by having a third person present. Thanks for indulging an old man." Alex smiled thinly and left the room.
The doctor sat quietly, waiting to see what the old man really wanted. After a moment, Gordon got up, walked to the kitchen doorway and looked down the hallway. Then he came back to the table and sat down again.
"I'm sorry for all the fuss, child, but Alex doesn't approve of my latest project."
Oh god, what scheme is he hatching now? thought Rowan. Her face showed nothing but rapt attention. "Please go on, Gordon" she said.
"I am writing a book of my memories. It explains what really happened forty hears ago, why it happened as well. Please, you must help me keep going long enough to finish it. It is the only way I can make things right again. I have done terrible things, my girl, terrible..." A fat tear rolled down his cheek, splashing onto the polished wood of the table top.
"Alex doesn't want me to do this. He says there is no need and it will only bring the troubles back to us - but I must. I am the last, I was there from the beginning...you must promise to help me. You always keep your word." He grabbed her white hand between his fleshy palms - amazing what strength the old man still had.
"I will do the best I can for you, Gordon."
"Do you promise? Will you give me your word?" The anxiety in his voice was naked.
Her green eyes looked straight into his brown ones. "Yes. I give you my word."
He relaxed, then smiled again. "I have a gift for you, Rowan. A gift of memory. Do you know what your last name means?" His eyes twinkled.
She shook her head no, wondering if he had bothered to be so charming in his youth, or if age and illness had mellowed him.
"It's really very unusual, yur name...a meaning for day, a meaning for night. Most names have only one, if any. What do you think it means?"
Rowan studied the old man's face before she answered. She was unsure if this was his illness manifesting itself, or if the old fox was trying to set her up for something. At any rate, she would have to play along. She spoke slowly, her disquiet making her soft accent slightly more pronounced: "Well Gordon, 'daestar' sounds like 'daystar,' d-a-y, so I assume that would refer to the sun?"
Gordon Rosewater's rounded face crinkled with pleasure. "Very good, dear girl. Yes, the sun, bringer of warmth and light. Sad that's such a rare sight these days. Now, what might the second meaning be, hmmm?"
What was the point of all this? Ro smiled sweetly at the old man: "I really have no idea, not a clue." She clasped her hands on the table, like a child at school waiting for instruction. Oddly, she had a sense of deja vu.
"'Dae' means 'great.' The greatstar. The northstar. Do you know what the northstar was?" He didn't wait for an answer. He was enjoying himself too much.
"The northstar was the brightest, most steadfast star in the heavens. It would safely guide the lost pilots of ancient ships to their journeys' end. Did you know the night sky used to be full of stars? Such lovely things they were..." His voice trailed off as if he were contemplating the now-shrouded skies of earth.
The young physician sat quietly, increasingly ill at ease with ths "gift." It was disturbing to be told her name symbolized phenomena long vanished from the world's consciousness. She suddenly shivered despite the room's warmth.
At that point, Alex Rosewater returned to the kitchen. He was accompanied by one of the massive farmhand/security guards ubiquitous to the agricultural station ( they were all so physically similar Ro often wondered if they were clones bred on the farm as well.) "Father, may I speak with Dr. Daestar now?" asked Alex.
"Hmm? Oh, of course, of course, son," said the elder Rosewater. He got up from his chair and took Rowan's hand again in his right one, patting it with his left. "I want you to know how very proud I am of you, dear child." With that, he left, followed by the huge farmhand.
Alex Rosewater towered above the table, hands in his pockets, cool and bloodless as snow. He was a big man as well as tall (easily close to seven feet) and like using his immense physical presence to intimidate his lessers.
This little trick of his never worked with Rowan. She would simply wait him out. Nevertheless he would always try before getting down to business. Perhaps he thought he'd crack through one day, reflected Rowan. However, she vowed, today would not be that day if she could help it.
"Well," he said, "I suppose you'll prepare another prescription of something helpful, eh?"
"As I said before," Rowan replied, "I can slow it down, nothing more." She leaned deliberately back in her chair, watching him with her feline eyes. The intensity of her emerald gaze almost made Alex feel like he was her prey. It was a novel sensation.
"What do you want, Mr. Rosewater?" she asked coolly.
Alex wasn't sure if she was playing her version of the intimidation game or not. It was a potentially dangerous question. He decided to stick to his original train of thought.
"He's starting to get a bit delusional, you know. It shows up in little things, like his imaginary memoirs he wants to write. Also he is starting to get very suspicious of people...even me, can you imagine?...his own son. Can you do something about that? It is becoming...an annoyance."
You cold bastard, thought Daestar. Your own father is losing his mind and you think this is an 'annoyance?' "It wouldn't hurt," she said with a slight edge to her voice, "to indulge him a bit, let him feel like he still has some control over his life, some dignity in his old age. He would be easier to deal with."
Alex looked down at her, a thin half-smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on...how many of us really have control over our own lives?"
Another chill rolled down Rowan's spine, but she hid it well, staring him down coolly.
"You know what I mean, Dr. Daestar." He drawled out the words as if he were playing with them. "We are all controlled by the past, even if we don't remember it. We are what we are made to be. Just look at your little school...do you really think you can make a difference in anyone's fate? Don't you believe in Destiny?"
The cold spread throughout Rowan; she felt as if her entire being was numbed, yet she still retained her outward composure: "I believe in free will. There is always a choice to be made, good or bad." Damn you, she thought, I will not be cowed. Damn you and your civilized threats!
The young woman gathered her papers, picked up a black briefcase from under the table and put the papers in it. "I am finished here. Call me if you start to see him deteriorate faster. I may have to adjust the dosage again." She flipped the briefcase lid shut.
"By the way, I also read through the completed chromosomal studies on those new tomatoes. The synthetic genes are still seriously flawed, even though the ripe fruit looks good. You really should go back to the original source as your cloning base. I told you before I have the germ plasma available...I'll give it to you. You are going to have terrible consequences with your false creations."
The younger Rosewater had the gall to actually smile. "I appreciate your concern, doctor, but that really won't be necessary. Paradigm Corp has too much invested in this line of research. We won't be needing your specimens."
Ro looked down at her briefcase, checking the lock as she spoke: "Fine. I'll be going then." Rowan then gave Alex Rosewater a look of such cold comprehension that even he was slightly taken aback. He wondered just how much she DID know about Paradigm Group...so full of surprises, this girl. So entertaining.
He followed her out to the front porch, where she made her farewells to his father. Rowan offered her right hand to shake, but the senior Rosewater gallantly kissed it instead, then thanked her effusively for coming. Finally Ro turned and left, walking down a broad path to her small car.
As the sound of her engine faded with distance, Alex sat down beside his father. "You like her, don't you, Dad?"
The old man smiled, nodded. "So much of her parents in her. They would have been very proud of their little girl."
Alex smiled tightly. "Their little girl shares their flaws too. It will prove her undoing in time."
Gordon turned towards his son. "Perhaps so, Alex, but not just yet. We still need our northstar, for the path remains dark. After that...we will see."
While Roger Smith was busy with his first big case, Rowan Daestar had driven her small black sports car far beyond the golden domes of the city.
The moldering devastation of Paradigm's outer perimeter had given way first to sparkling mansions, then small settlements, then forest as nature quickly reclaimed the land. Finally the curving road broke through the dark curtain of trees, opening onto a lush expanse of greenhouses and manicured fields.
This was an area known as Islesberry. It was one the largest agricultural laboratories run by Paradigm Corporation. It was also a favored retreat of Gordon Rosewater, one of the founders of Paradigm Group and the father of its current president, Alex Rosewater.
This was a familiar journey for Ro. As usual, her presence had been requested for a two-fold task. Her first duty had been to examine and treat Gordon Rosewater. Her second had been to review research papers on current experiments being run at the farm. Again, none of this was out of the ordinary, for she was as highly regarded for her scientific and medical acumen as she was for her negotiating skills. In truth, both required the same traits of trustworthiness and shrewd intelligence.
At this moment Daestar was seated at a large wooden table in the farm's comfortably homey kitchen. Although it was only a little past dawn, she'd already had breakfast and was on her second cup of coffee. She always found herself impressed by the rustic luxury of this place; certainly it was nothing like the decayed and abandoned little farms of her grim childhood.
Reading over her lab findings, the young physician reflected on how ironic it was that her patient suffered from Alzheimer's Disease, that he would eventually suffer a second loss of memory even more total than the amnesia caused by the mysterious Event of forty years past.
Gordon Rosewater and his son Alex entered the kitchen. The two men couldn't have looked more different (despite their facial similarities.) Gordon's fuller face was relaxed, genial; he was dressed casually in jeans and a red plaid shirt. He looked and acted like a cross between a gentleman farmer and a stereotypical favorite older uncle. It was very hard not to like the old man, despite his brutal past.
Alex Rosewater, on the other hand, was every inch the smug elitist. His sense of entitlement oozed from him. As usual, he was sharply turned out in a spotless white suit. No matter how dirty his past was, it never seemed to sully the man.
Quite frankly, Ro didn't trust father or son, and her long association with them hadn't improved her opinion of the pair either. She continued dealing with them out of fear, but not so much for her own well-being (though that was a concern.) Rather, it was fear for the safety of her "uncle" Dan Dastun in particular and the rest of the community in general.
On some level, Rowan believed Dastun could not have rescued her without some intervention from Gordon Rosewater. She couldn't prove it and Dastun denied it, but she knew it in her gut.
As for safeguarding the populace at large, by getting involved in the plant research she had stopped several potential disasters. Just a year ago Paradigm Corp had been on the verge of offering a wholly synthetic coffee...the only problem was the bean became toxic when roasted at a certain temperature. It would have sickened, possibly killed, thousands. She had caught the spontaneous gene mutation the Islesberry lab techs had missed.
No matter how Ro thought it through, she was stuck with the Rosewaters.
The older Rosewater sat down at the kitchen table across from her. "Well, my dear, what have you learned about me this time? Please don't spare my feelings. I know I'm an old man but I'm still tough." He laughed and patted her hand with his great paw.
The young woman glanced up at Alex Rosewater. He nodded an almost imperceptable "yes." There was no expression on his angular face.
"Well," began Rowan, "I will be blunt about this, Gordon. The disease is continuing to progress. Despite everything I've tried, I can't repair the damage you have already suffered. I can't stop it from continuing to damage you. I can't heal you. The prognosis is still terminal. All I can do is slow it down. I'm sorry." She WAS sincerely sorry - Daestar hated to see anyone suffer.
Gordon nodded. "I see. Alex..." he looked round to his son, "would you mind leaving us alone for a while? I wish to make an indecent proposal to Dr. Daestar and I don't want her embarrassed by having a third person present. Thanks for indulging an old man." Alex smiled thinly and left the room.
The doctor sat quietly, waiting to see what the old man really wanted. After a moment, Gordon got up, walked to the kitchen doorway and looked down the hallway. Then he came back to the table and sat down again.
"I'm sorry for all the fuss, child, but Alex doesn't approve of my latest project."
Oh god, what scheme is he hatching now? thought Rowan. Her face showed nothing but rapt attention. "Please go on, Gordon" she said.
"I am writing a book of my memories. It explains what really happened forty hears ago, why it happened as well. Please, you must help me keep going long enough to finish it. It is the only way I can make things right again. I have done terrible things, my girl, terrible..." A fat tear rolled down his cheek, splashing onto the polished wood of the table top.
"Alex doesn't want me to do this. He says there is no need and it will only bring the troubles back to us - but I must. I am the last, I was there from the beginning...you must promise to help me. You always keep your word." He grabbed her white hand between his fleshy palms - amazing what strength the old man still had.
"I will do the best I can for you, Gordon."
"Do you promise? Will you give me your word?" The anxiety in his voice was naked.
Her green eyes looked straight into his brown ones. "Yes. I give you my word."
He relaxed, then smiled again. "I have a gift for you, Rowan. A gift of memory. Do you know what your last name means?" His eyes twinkled.
She shook her head no, wondering if he had bothered to be so charming in his youth, or if age and illness had mellowed him.
"It's really very unusual, yur name...a meaning for day, a meaning for night. Most names have only one, if any. What do you think it means?"
Rowan studied the old man's face before she answered. She was unsure if this was his illness manifesting itself, or if the old fox was trying to set her up for something. At any rate, she would have to play along. She spoke slowly, her disquiet making her soft accent slightly more pronounced: "Well Gordon, 'daestar' sounds like 'daystar,' d-a-y, so I assume that would refer to the sun?"
Gordon Rosewater's rounded face crinkled with pleasure. "Very good, dear girl. Yes, the sun, bringer of warmth and light. Sad that's such a rare sight these days. Now, what might the second meaning be, hmmm?"
What was the point of all this? Ro smiled sweetly at the old man: "I really have no idea, not a clue." She clasped her hands on the table, like a child at school waiting for instruction. Oddly, she had a sense of deja vu.
"'Dae' means 'great.' The greatstar. The northstar. Do you know what the northstar was?" He didn't wait for an answer. He was enjoying himself too much.
"The northstar was the brightest, most steadfast star in the heavens. It would safely guide the lost pilots of ancient ships to their journeys' end. Did you know the night sky used to be full of stars? Such lovely things they were..." His voice trailed off as if he were contemplating the now-shrouded skies of earth.
The young physician sat quietly, increasingly ill at ease with ths "gift." It was disturbing to be told her name symbolized phenomena long vanished from the world's consciousness. She suddenly shivered despite the room's warmth.
At that point, Alex Rosewater returned to the kitchen. He was accompanied by one of the massive farmhand/security guards ubiquitous to the agricultural station ( they were all so physically similar Ro often wondered if they were clones bred on the farm as well.) "Father, may I speak with Dr. Daestar now?" asked Alex.
"Hmm? Oh, of course, of course, son," said the elder Rosewater. He got up from his chair and took Rowan's hand again in his right one, patting it with his left. "I want you to know how very proud I am of you, dear child." With that, he left, followed by the huge farmhand.
Alex Rosewater towered above the table, hands in his pockets, cool and bloodless as snow. He was a big man as well as tall (easily close to seven feet) and like using his immense physical presence to intimidate his lessers.
This little trick of his never worked with Rowan. She would simply wait him out. Nevertheless he would always try before getting down to business. Perhaps he thought he'd crack through one day, reflected Rowan. However, she vowed, today would not be that day if she could help it.
"Well," he said, "I suppose you'll prepare another prescription of something helpful, eh?"
"As I said before," Rowan replied, "I can slow it down, nothing more." She leaned deliberately back in her chair, watching him with her feline eyes. The intensity of her emerald gaze almost made Alex feel like he was her prey. It was a novel sensation.
"What do you want, Mr. Rosewater?" she asked coolly.
Alex wasn't sure if she was playing her version of the intimidation game or not. It was a potentially dangerous question. He decided to stick to his original train of thought.
"He's starting to get a bit delusional, you know. It shows up in little things, like his imaginary memoirs he wants to write. Also he is starting to get very suspicious of people...even me, can you imagine?...his own son. Can you do something about that? It is becoming...an annoyance."
You cold bastard, thought Daestar. Your own father is losing his mind and you think this is an 'annoyance?' "It wouldn't hurt," she said with a slight edge to her voice, "to indulge him a bit, let him feel like he still has some control over his life, some dignity in his old age. He would be easier to deal with."
Alex looked down at her, a thin half-smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on...how many of us really have control over our own lives?"
Another chill rolled down Rowan's spine, but she hid it well, staring him down coolly.
"You know what I mean, Dr. Daestar." He drawled out the words as if he were playing with them. "We are all controlled by the past, even if we don't remember it. We are what we are made to be. Just look at your little school...do you really think you can make a difference in anyone's fate? Don't you believe in Destiny?"
The cold spread throughout Rowan; she felt as if her entire being was numbed, yet she still retained her outward composure: "I believe in free will. There is always a choice to be made, good or bad." Damn you, she thought, I will not be cowed. Damn you and your civilized threats!
The young woman gathered her papers, picked up a black briefcase from under the table and put the papers in it. "I am finished here. Call me if you start to see him deteriorate faster. I may have to adjust the dosage again." She flipped the briefcase lid shut.
"By the way, I also read through the completed chromosomal studies on those new tomatoes. The synthetic genes are still seriously flawed, even though the ripe fruit looks good. You really should go back to the original source as your cloning base. I told you before I have the germ plasma available...I'll give it to you. You are going to have terrible consequences with your false creations."
The younger Rosewater had the gall to actually smile. "I appreciate your concern, doctor, but that really won't be necessary. Paradigm Corp has too much invested in this line of research. We won't be needing your specimens."
Ro looked down at her briefcase, checking the lock as she spoke: "Fine. I'll be going then." Rowan then gave Alex Rosewater a look of such cold comprehension that even he was slightly taken aback. He wondered just how much she DID know about Paradigm Group...so full of surprises, this girl. So entertaining.
He followed her out to the front porch, where she made her farewells to his father. Rowan offered her right hand to shake, but the senior Rosewater gallantly kissed it instead, then thanked her effusively for coming. Finally Ro turned and left, walking down a broad path to her small car.
As the sound of her engine faded with distance, Alex sat down beside his father. "You like her, don't you, Dad?"
The old man smiled, nodded. "So much of her parents in her. They would have been very proud of their little girl."
Alex smiled tightly. "Their little girl shares their flaws too. It will prove her undoing in time."
Gordon turned towards his son. "Perhaps so, Alex, but not just yet. We still need our northstar, for the path remains dark. After that...we will see."