+J. M.J.+
Zenon Eyes: Eyes of Truth
By "Matrix Refugee"
Author's Note:
This chapter took fooorrreeevvveeerr to write for the not so simple reason that I just started working a temp job packing boxes for a print shop that specializes in store displays and such and I've been adjusting to a new schedule (read: trying to find time to write and type!). I'm going to try to make subsequent chapters shorter and therefore easier to finish: I can write during my lunch breaks, but my computer is a desktop, so I have to type it at home. Plus, I roped myself into writing an alternate universe fic based on the movie Gattaca (which see) which is stealing time from this. But on with the magnum opus…In this chapter, things start to move toward the establishment of the Mecha Haven and another of my original characters, Madison "Maddy" Grachek from "Toys out of the Nursery", returns, all grown up and determined to right the wrongs of the past.
Disclaimer:
See chapter I
Chapter VIII: Supporter
"Your best bet for drumming up support for your grand endeavor is to go to Madison Grachek-Tyrell," Lutwyn told Joe as they sat in Lutwyn's office during the lunch hour.
"Might he be related to the late Kingston Tyrell, the titanium mine owner?" Joe asked, his pocket notebook open on his lap, the pencil poised in his fingers.
"She's his widow, she inherited the business from him. She's dripping with wealth, but she's chosen to live simply for a woman of her status, for the sake of better helping the CRF." With a sneaky smile, Lutwyn added, "She won't let on about it, but she probably had something to do with the American Mecha Act going through: several Congressmen owe their offices to her support."
"But would someone placed so highly as she heed my plea for assistance?" Joe asked, jotting down the information.
"If there's anyone who would listen to you, she would. She has an especial soft spot for Mechas who have been through more than their fair share of woes."
Joe smiled sadly but mischievously at this. With a faint trace of seduction, he said, "If that is the case, then she might find my proposal—and the Mecha offering it—utterly irresistible."
@--`--
Lutwyn notified Madison Grachek-Tyrell in advance that a friend and employee of his had a request to make of her. In the meantime, Joe started writing a paper outlining his proposal. But when Lutwyn read the draft of it, he advised a different approach.
"Try not to be so formal; she doesn't bite," Lutwyn said.
"How then am I to approach her?" Joe asked, looking up from the document laid out on the screen of his desk.
"Approach her directly. Just tell her outright that you want her to assist you in fulfilling your dream for your species. Request her permission to call on her," Lutwyn said. "That paper reads too much like a straight business proposal."
Joe looked again at the document. "Perhaps I have become too much of a businessman in my old age." He reached out and touched the delete button on the screen. The document vanished. He looked up at Lutwyn, his eyelids lowered.
"Instead, let me loosen her heart with one of the more innocent of my early talents," he said, smoky-voiced.
Lutwyn gave Joe's shoulder a brotherly squeeze. "There's the Joe I know."
@--`--
From: jmasters @ design.companionates.com
To: madisongt @ management.tyrelltitanium.com
Subject: A not-so-modest proposal
Dear Madame Tyrell,
Perhaps you know me by name as a designer of Mechas or as an agitator for Mecha rights and the author of the Three Laws of Humanics, or if you have read my biography, you may know of the sorrows and successes I have experienced.
Thanks to the technology if imprinting, I have received that most mysterious of Orga abilities, namely, to dream. Amongst the thoughts and notions that swirl in my processors, I have dreamed of a most needed establishment, a sanctuary for the abused and derelict of Mechakind, where they refurbished and repaired and healed of their sorrows, physical and otherwise.
A task like this rests too heavily on my shoulders. I have adopted two young Mechas, both of them abandoned by their former families, but I can hardly shelter many more under the roof I share with them and my wife Rhiannon.
I am told you are a most generous woman, particularly sensitive toward the less fortunate of Mechakind. And so I hold out to you both my hands in supplication for my kind. However you choose to treat this proposal, whether to accept it or set it aside, I will respect your decision. I ask only that you consider all the factors before announcing you choice.
I remain your most respectful and obedient servant,
Joe Masters, ARD
@--`--
As he walked from the end of their street to their front door, Joe carefully informed his volition centers to avoid the mailpad and even his desktop once he got home. But something happened that made a second reminder unnecessary.
As he keyed the smartlock on the front door before unlocking the second lock, something brushed against his ankles. He heard a whirring that he knew did not come from his inner mechanisms. He looked down.
A cat rubbed her head against the cuffs of his trousers. He stooped down to get a better look at her.
The cat had the cream and dark brown markings of Siamese cat, but something about her coat looked too orderly.
A Mecha cat, he realized.
"You've come to an ideal place," Joe said. He stood up, unlocked the door and let the sleek, furry little creature enter first
He found Rhiannon in the kitchen, making her supper, while David sat at the table, molding something out of clay.
The cat nosed about the floor, approaching Rhiannon's ankles. Rhiannon looked down.
"Well, what's this?" she asked, kneeling down.
"I found her upon the doorstep, or rather, she found me," Joe said.
"What a pretty kitty!" David cried, hopping down from his chair and joining his mother. Andy waddled after him.
"She might have strayed…" Rhiannon started to say, but her eyes widened.
"Perhaps she has, or perhaps she was abandoned," Joe said, running his hand over the cat's back. The little creature arched up against Joe's palm, purring gladly. David reached for her tail, but Andy pushed David's hand away gently.
Alex stuck his head in at the kitchen doorway. "What's that there?" he asked. He stepped into the room for a better look. "Oh, an Easy Living Cat."
"Your voice lacks enthusiasm," Joe noted.
"The Hilliards had one," Alex said. "It hated me."
"Why? What makes you say that?" Joe asked.
"It avoided me," Alex said, turning and heading for the living room.
"Alex, I'm about to have dinner," Rhiannon said.
"You know I don't eat," Alex grumbled.
"Yes, but if you recall, when we took you in we asked you to join the rest of us at the table," Joe said.
"Yeah, I recall it," Alex muttered, stepping back into the kitchen. The cat went up to Alex, sniffing at his shoes as he walked to his chair. He turned the chair around front to back and plunked himself down on it sidewise.
The cat jumped up into Alex's lap and settled there, looking about her with big sapphire eyes.
"Maybe we should call her Pretty Kitty," David said, sitting down next to Alex.
"What an original name," Alex sneered.
Andy looked at Alex as the little bear clambered up into his chair next to David. "David likes the name."
"Maybe you should name it, Alex," Joe suggested, sitting down at the head of the table. He glanced down into Alex's lap, at the cat, which had curled up, looking as if she might go to sleep.
"No, you found it, Joe, you can name it," Alex said.
"She must have been tossed out: Mecha cats aren't supposed to stray," Rhiannon said.
"Maybe she's malfunctioning," Alex suggested.
"If we can keep her, perhaps we should call her Basteth," Joe suggested. The cat looked up as if she liked the name.
"What kind of name is that?" David asked.
"It is an Egyptian name, that of the goddess of cats and of dance," Joe said.
Rhiannon winked at Joe. "I guess she came to the right place."
@--`--
Later, as they nestled together in bed, Rhiannon asked Joe a question that had been in the back of her mind.
"Did you ever send that message to Madison Grachek-Tyrell?"
"I have sent it, but I obliged myself to avoid the mailpad or the inbox of the desktop so I could focus my attention to my personal obligations," Joe said.
"Good choice," she said, rubbing his shoulder.
The door creaked open. Something jumped up on the bed, landing on Joe's stomach. He tensed for a second, but he saw Basteth's blue eyes gleaming at him from the darkness. She let out a little peeping meow.
"Do you mind if she stays?" Joe asked.
"Nah, I'm certainly not allergic to Mecha cats," Rhiannon said.
@--`--
The next morning, when Joe checked his messages on arriving at work, he nearly cried out with joy.
Reply-to jmasters @ design.companionates.com
From: madisongt @ management.tyrelltitanium.com
Subject: RE: A not-so-modest proposal
Dear Mr. Masters (and I insist on calling you Mr.),
You message came as a complete surprise; I have been following your career for quite some time (my late husband bought one of your early paintings). And your idea for a Mecha Haven I find most exciting.
Would you like to discuss this with me at length, face to face? I would be happy to have you and your family to visit me here in Cheyenne, Wyoming, then we can all get acquainted with each other. You name the date and time: I am largely retired now and I can very easily adjust my schedule to accommodate you.
I hope to hear—and see—more from you very soon.
Sincerely,
Madison Grachek-Tyrell
Joe hit the forward button and sent a copy to Rhiannon.
Later that afternoon, in a hallway of the complex, Joe met up with Galloway.
"I have found another Mecha, or rather she has found me," Joe said.
"Uh oh, I don't like the sound of that 'she'," Galloway said. "Does Rhiannon know about this?"
"Yes, she does. She even let her sleep with us."
"Well, if it's a kid model, that's one thing, but…"
"Have no concern: it is a Mecha cat, an Easy Living model. We wondered if you might have a minute tonight to come by and examine her."
"Oh sure, I haven't seen one of those in a while. My cousin's wife had one, since she was allergic to real cats. But, uh, have you done your homework on this one?"
"I have: it appears that the owners discarded her for reasons unknown."
"Weird. Wonder if someone died and left the cat to someone that didn't want it, so they pitched it out."
"If they did, then they know not how agreeable a creature they cast aside."
Galloway came over that nigh after Rhiannon's supper. When he examined Basteth, he found her in top-notch condition for a possible discard.
"Can Basteth stay with us for real?" David asked.
Galloway scratched the cat behind her ears. "I don't see any reason why she can't." He stopped scratching: Basteth butted his hand with her head.
"As long as she stays out of my room," Alex said, walking past the living room door with a plastic recycling bin of papers.
"Why? What's wrong with her?" Galloway asked.
"Nothing," Alex shrugged and went out."
"Alex said something about his first family having a cat that ignored him," Rhiannon said.
"Awww, poor guy. Either he scared it off, or the thing was malfunctioning," Galloway said. "I see you got him doing recyclables detail."
"Yes, we assigned him several chores about the house; the allowance he earns for it he is putting toward a surround sound system for his room," Joe explained.
"I'm helping him out," David said.
"I bet you are, sport," Galloway said.
"Yeah, Alex complained that my system down here was too tinny," Rhiannon said.
"Have you imprinted him yet?" Galloway asked.
Rhiannon and Joe looked at each other.
"You know how the legal department has to put that label on imprint papers 'Do NOT imprint if you are uncertain of your emotions'?" Rhiannon said. "We're still not sure, especially since his adoption papers haven't gone through yet."
"Well, that's a good reason to wait, but don't wait too long after you get the papers," Galloway said, packing up his scanners.
"And what I want to know is if imprinting him will get rid of that attitude," Rhiannon said. "Man, people used to complain that I had an attitude, and I know I had one, but I don't think it was anything like his."
"You would be as unhappy as he is if your first imprinter took no notice when you disappeared for weeks," Joe pointed out.
@--`--
"I hope you aren't avoiding the inbox again," Rhiannon said to Joe later, as they got ready for bed.
"I am not, and I had no need to," Joe said. "Have you checked your messages recently?"
"Not since this morning, why?"
"Madison Grachek-Tyrell wants to meet with us, you, the boys and I, face to face regarding the grand endeavor."
"That's great," she said, hugging him. "Did she say when?"
"She left that to our discretion."
"You'd better decide when soon, in case she should forget. And if she wants to meet me as well," she let him go and reached for her planner on the bureau and opened the calendar. "I think I can manage this weekend."
"The sooner we meet with her, we shall be that much sooner to beginning the work," Joe said. "I shall notify her first thing in the morning."
She darted a glance at him as she set the planner back on the bureau. "Do you mean first thing in the daylight, or first thing in the wee hours when I'm asleep?"
"I would advise you not to lead me into such temptation," he said with an astute smile.
"Yeah, You're the expert on it," she replied.
@--`--
Joe held off till the daylight to send the reply to Madison Grachek-Tyrell. But through the rest of that day, he had to keep resetting his volition centers to keep himself from peeking at his messages.
At the end of the day, he let himself check the inbox.
Reply-to jmasters @ design.companionates.com
From: madisongt @ management.tyrelltitanium.com
Subject: RE: Shall we meet this weekend?
Dear Mr. Masters (or would you rather that I called you Joe?),
I would be delighted if you could come here to Cheyenne this weekend. Call me when you arrive, and I shall send a car the next morning, Saturday, to pick up you and your family.
I'm really looking forward to meeting you.
Sincerely,
Madison Grachek-Tyrell
Joe forwarded the message to Rhiannon before he gathered up his things and headed home.
@--`--
"So did you make all the travel arrangements?" Rhiannon asked him when he got home.
"I have arranged everything we shall need," he said. "Our flight, our accommodations, everything is in order. Lutwyn and Narsie have agreed to take Basteth for the weekend."
"You've got one up on me: Nahmer's trying to get me to cover a case over the weekend. Mo'reen agreed to take it, but the old skinflint won't hear of it."
"He seems to bear down upon you."
"Yeah, especially since I started working from home."
As Rhiannon had her supper, Joe broke the news to 'the boys'.
"What of you think of going on a trip to Wyoming this weekend?" Joe asked.
Alex cocked his head slightly. David smiled, excited, but his eyes looked a little concerned.
"What's out there?" Alex grumbled.
"It is a long story, but I shall be as brief in its telling as I can be," Joe said. "You know of the differences between Orgas and Mechas."
Alex rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it."
David put a hand on Alex's arm. "I don't think you want to know." Alex shook him off.
"Some time ago, I thought of establishing a place, a Haven, where damaged and abused Mechas could go, where they could find safety and protection from the ignorant and unkind Orgas that had hurt them."
"Like a home for them? Like here?" David asked.
Joe smiled. "Yes, only much larger, a place where many, many Mechas could find refuge.
"I have been told of a lady who lives in Wyoming, who could help me to find the land and the money and the materials to build this Haven. And this weekend, she wants to meet us as a family."
"All of us?" Alex said, lowering one eyebrow.
"Yes, Alex, all of us."
"Is she nice?" David asked.
"I am told she is very nice," Joe said.
"Have you ever been on a trip before, David?" Rhiannon asked.
"No," David said.
"It'll be fun."
@--`--
Friday evening found them boarding a hyperjet to Cheyenne. David saw the trip as an adventure, but he still stuck close to Joe. Alex took it all with his usual simmering indifference.
The flight took only two hours, which brought them to the hotel by 20.30.
However, they found the room was not quite what Joe had arranged for: he had requested a two-bedroom suite, but instead, they had a studio room with two double beds, and unfortunately there were no other rooms.
"So much for desiring privacy," Joe said, with resignation.
They settled into the room as best as they could and unpacked their stuff. They had an early start the next morning, so Rhiannon tucked David into the one bed, with Andy.
Alex had kept grimly too himself in a corner, studying the piano reduction score of Terry Riley's nine hour Orfeo, but Rhiannon touched his arm.
"Time to settle down," she said.
"I still have most of this to go over," he said. "And just where am I supposed to 'sleep'?"
"You will have to share the bed with David," Joe said.
Alex grumbled something, but he set aside the score, got his pajamas and went into the bathroom to change. Eh came out a moment later he came out and got into bed beside David and Andy.
A few moments later, after Rhiannon had brushed her teeth, she and Joe turned in for the night.
"Alas, no sensuous engagement for us this night," Joe whispered in his wife's ear as he slipped his arm about his waist from behind.
"Oh, I'll survive," she said, stroking his hand.
He kissed the back of her neck, then drew back, letting her settle down on her pillow. He felt her relax in his arms as she fell asleep.
He often got a lot of thinking done while Rhiannon slept. The gentle rhythm of her breathing and the soft pulse of her heartbeat provided a soothing soundtrack.
He was just forming his speech to Madison Grachek Tyrell, when he heard something from the other side of the room.
Something rustled. Then the springs of the other bed creaked.
"Hey," Alex grunted.
"What?" asked David.
"This is my side of the bed."
"What did you say?"
"I don't want you or that fuzzball on my side of the bed."
"Is that your side of the bed?"
"Of course it is: I'm on it, but now you are, so get over on your side of the bed."
"But nobody said which side of the bed is whose."
"I just did. Now move over on your side of the bed."
"Why should I move?"
"Simple: I don't want you or that fuzzball touching my body."
"I'm not touching your body," David said.
"I am not touching you, either," Andy added.
"Sure you are, your paw is on my pajamas."
Rhiannon stirred. "Wha's goin' on?" she mumbled.
"The siblings are being rivals," Joe said. He got up and approached the other bed. "Light, one," he ordered the SmartLamp. It dimmed on.
Alex glared up at Joe, lying turned away from David.
"What is this arguing about?" Joe asked.
Alex jerked his thumb at David. "He's too close to me, he's on my side of the bed."
"I only wanted to snuggle up to him," David said.
"I can't think with him all over me, or with that fuzzball tickling me," Alex snapped.
"Unfortunately, you have to share this bed; inconveniences such as this will happen, so, in this case, you will have to tolerate each other's presence."
Alex grumbled something that sounded like "Big deal". David looked a little dejected.
"Your mother needs her rest; so, shall we keep quiet for her sake?" Joe asked.
"I will, Daddy," David said.
"Yeah, sure," Alex grumbled into the pillow.
"Light, zero," Joe said. The light went out; Joe went back to the other bed.
"Peace in the valley," Rhiannon mumbled.
@--`--
Next morning, Alex's misbehavior didn't stop. Joe later wondered if Alex meant it as "payback".
One Orga habit that Joe had picked up was washing his hands, which he performed more as a meditative ritual than as part of routine cleanliness. The water caressed the receptors in the dermis of his palms, the inside of his fingers, helping settle the humming in his processors and the slight jangling that had started in his conductors.
As he stood there, meditating, he glanced up to see in the mirror Alex's reflection, as he stood slouched against the doorframe.
"Why are you doing that?" Alex demanded.
"It's what I do to settle my neurons," Joe said.
"Whatever," Alex muttered, going away.
A moment later, Alex was back, his cheeks bulged with something, and trying not to smirk.
"Hm, hm," Alex teased, singsong.
"Alex, what do you have in your mouth?" Joe asked.
"HMm, Hmm," Alex twitted.
"Whatever you have in your mouth, it does not belong there. Alex, spit it out," Joe ordered.
bbPPWwwwuuuutttt!
Alex spat a mouthful of water right in Joe's face, drenching him.
"You've done it now," Joe said, reaching for Alex. The younger Mecha ran away, laughing.
"Hey, what's going on in there!" Rhiannon called from the other room.
Joe rushed out of the bathroom, but he couldn't spot Alex in the room. But Andy had his furry head under the boys' bed.
"He went under the bed," Rhiannon said. "What happened to you? You're soaked."
"Alex spat water in my face," Joe said.
"I thought so. I turned my back for a minute and my bottle of water was half empty."
"Alex, come out from under the bed," Andy said.
"Go away, fuzzball," said Alex's voice, under the bed.
"You were unkind to Daddy."
"Well, I don't have to answer to you."
Joe got down on the floor and put Andy aside. He lifted the bedspread. "No, but you have to answer to me, young man." he reached in and drew Alex out. Alex tried to shove him away, but Joe was too quick for him.
He stood up, drawing Alex with him.
"Come to think of it, I don't have to answer to you, either," Alex retorted. "You're not my real father."
Joe was about to argue that, but he realized Alex was right in one respect. "There is little time now for me to reprimand you, but do not think that means you got off easily."
After Rhiannon had her breakfast, they headed out into the hotel lobby to await the car Mrs. Grachek-Tyrell would send for them.
A moment later, a gleaming black cruiser pulled up to the front door. The door slid open of itself.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Masters and family," said a pleasant, androgynous voice from the interior. "I am a Hermes 2225 SmartCar. Mrs. Madison Grachek-Tyrell sent me here to bring you to her residence."
Rhiannon grinned at Joe. SmartCars were a rarity. Joe helped her in first, then David and Alex; once he had climbed in after them, the door slid shut.
"Pretty posh," Alex remarked, running his hand over the velour cover of the set. Andy nudged his hand
"Alex, your safety belt," Andy said.
"Oh, beat it." But Alex put it on anyway.
"Our journey to Ashton Heights will take about thirty minutes, barring unforeseen conditions," the voice informed them, as they pulled out of the lot into the road.
"Mr. car-voice, do you have a name?" David asked.
"Mrs. Grachek-Tyrell just calls me Hermes," the voice replied, with a humorous lilt.
"That's a nice name," David said.
"Thank you," Hermes replied.
They hit a knot of traffic, but the car pulled down another road, taking an alternate route.
"As you may have seen, we some road congestion and so we will be taking a different road," Hermes said.
"We noticed," Alex grumbled. Thankfully, Hermes ignored this remark.
The road brought them out of the city into the countryside. They turned onto a road that wound in and around and over hills into valleys, and back up slopes which grew steeper.
They pulled onto a side road flanked with tall hedges. A gate across the path slid back, letting them continue.
At length, they drew up before a low-built house half-hidden by cedars and small redwoods.
The door slid back. "I hope you enjoyed your journey," Hermes said. "And I hope you have a pleasant visit here."
"Thank you very, very much," Joe said. "You have been an excellent vehicle."
"You're welcome; I'm glad to be of service to you," Hermes replied. He pulled away only when they had gone up to the house.
As they approached the house, the front doors slid open like the doors of a traditional Japanese house.
A silver-haired butler-Mecha stepped forward. "Mr. and Mrs. Joe Masters and sons?" he asked in a slightly clipped voice with a British accent.
"That we are," Joe replied.
"Won't you please come in? Mrs. Grachek-Tyrell is expecting you." He stepped aside and let them enter. He took their coats and handed them to a small, dark houseboy Mecha, then led them into the front room.
"She will be just a minute," the butler informed them, then went out.
"If you think that I am an old model, Alex, that butler is older even than I," Joe said. Alex merely sniffed.
The sliding doors of the sitting room opened and a tall woman in a midnight blue dress entered. Her short hair was silver-white with age, but her face hardly showed her years, not a spot, hardly a wrinkle. Her ice blue eyes had a piercing yet a caressing quality. She carried herself almost like a queen, but she had a gentle simplicity to her bearing. As he stood up, Joe felt he ought to bow to her.
But Mrs. Grachek-Tyrell looked at him a little sidewise and smiled, breaking the spell. Her face glowed with a soft inner warmth that lit the whole room.
"So you're Joe Masters, the young fellow who devised the Three Laws of Organics?" she said, extending her hand to him.
He took it and turned it over. "I am he," Joe said, raising her hand to his lips. "And you are Mrs. Grachek-Tyrell?"
"Oh, just call me Madison," she said, squeezing his finger before releasing them. She smiled at Rhiannon. "And you're Riana?"
"It's Rhiannon."
Madison pretended to slap her forehead. "Of course! Like the wise woman of the Welsh legends."
"And a wise woman she is," Joe said.
"And a lucky one, too." Madison bent down to David's level. "And you are…?"
"I'm David," David replied.
"Hello, David. And who's your friend here?"
"This is Andy."
"Hello, Andy," Madison said, putting out her fingertips to Andy.
"Hello, Madison," Andy said, touching her hand with his paw.
Alex let out a throat-clearing sort of sound. Madison straightened up. "And who are you, young fellow?"
"I'm Alex."
She put out her hand to him. "Are you Joe's brother or his son?"
"I'm neither one." He took her hand somewhat slackly. Rhiannon noticed him looking up and down Madison.
"We're in the process of adopting Alex," Rhiannon said.
"So, I heard from Lutwyn Zipes and from your message that you want to establish a Haven for abused and abandoned Mechas?" Madison asked, when they were all seated.
"It is a dream I have had for at least four years now," Joe said.
"What gave you this idea?"
"It is a long story." He briefly told her about his own sufferings at Orga hands, about losing Jane and finding David and Alex.
"You may have lost a love, but you gained a family," Madison said. "A beautiful family."
"Thank you," Joe said, beaming. "But what of you? What led you to help Mechas, aside from the fact that your company supplies titanium and aluminum to the factories?"
Madison drew a long breath. "It's a shorter story than yours, but it's a sadder one. But you need to hear it if we are to understand each other.
"When I was a little girl, I had a nanny-Mecha looking after me while my mother worked and my father was abroad as an archaeologist. Babette, that was her name, was my best friend before I started school. But my father, after he came back from Africa, didn't like having her about the house. My mother didn't tell me until years later, but he used to hit Babette when I was at school."
"Pardon my intrusion, but did Babette have blue eyes and chestnut colored hair?" Joe asked.
"Yes, she did. Why?"
"I just was curious."
Madison continued. "One day, Babette disappeared. My father said she simply wandered away, but we knew she wouldn't have done that unless she was seriously malfunctioning. I cried for her for days, because I missed her and because I was afraid for her." she took a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her eyes.
"Did you ever know what became of her?" Rhiannon asked.
Madison shook her head. "No. We had missing Mecha alerts posted on the 'Net, but no one ever found her. Or, if they did, they neglected to tell us."
Joe held up one finger. "I believe I know what became of your Babette." He paused. "I saw her when the Flesh Fair captured me, when I escaped. She, alas, never knew this fortune."
"Oh no," Madison said, choked. She drew a ragged breath. Rhiannon got up and went to her side, putting her arm about the older woman's shoulders. David hopped down from his chair, ran to her and climbed into her lap.
"It's all right, Madison, you can cry if you have to," David said.
Before Joe could add his consolation, Alex got up and put his hand on Madison's shoulder. "Hey, let her go. She's not hurting any more."
"You're right: it's best to take this energy and these feelings and use them to help the Mechas who still need help," Madison said.
Recovering, she said to Joe, "You'll need someone to plan all this, someone to help you find a suitable location, find and buy the land, hire an architect, hire the contractors, find people to staff it. We'll have to make the facility as self-supporting as possible. It's a huge undertaking."
"The Mecha inhabitants could work on maintaining the facility and so earn their keep until we can find home and/or suitable employment for them," Joe said.
"Making your grand endeavor become a reality is more complicated than you expected," Madison said. "I can help you financially to some extent, and I know people who could help you organize it all, but as well-heeled as I am, the resources aren't limitless."
"I knew this could not be. For a number of years, I have been setting aside portions of my earnings in savings against the day this project came to be a reality," Joe said, "But I doubt they are sizable enough to help meet the costs."
"That's a very generous and humble thing to do. But your best bet would be to apply to the government for a grant," Madison said. "I could help you write the proposal."
"And perhaps you could use your influence with the higher circles of government to ease the process," Joe said.
"Who told you I had any influence in government?" Madison snapped, pretending to be indignant.
"Lutwyn Zipes told me," Joe replied innocently.
"I'll have to have a word or two with that young whippersnapper," she growled, smiling.
They talked for a while longer about the grand endeavor and how it might impact the two halves of the species, perhaps even effectively bridging the gulf of strife between them. But somehow, Madison deftly turned the conversation toward the Masterses' trip to Cheyenne.
"Alex and I have to share a bed in the hotel room," David put in, somewhat artlessly.
"Davviiidddd!" Alex snarled through clenched teeth.
"Oh, that must be comfortable for all of you," Madison said. "Joe, Rhiannon, please, humor a crazy old woman: you can spend your weekend here with me. There's plenty of room in the house and we can get to know each other better this way."
"We have infringed too much upon your hospitality already," Joe protested.
"No, I insist, and I'm accustomed to getting my own way," Madison said, with a self-deprecating smirk.
"And I am accustomed to acquiescing to the demands of those accustomed to getting their own way," Joe said.
@--`--
They went back to the hotel to pack their things while Hermes, the car, waited in the parking lot.
When they returned to the house, Madison herself led them to the guest rooms, a little suite all its own, very like a guest house attached to the main house. The boys had a room of their own—with separate beds—while Joe and Rhiannon had their own room. After they had settled, Madison showed them around the house and grounds.
"The architecture and the ground have a style all their own," Joe remarked.
"Yes, my husband designed them himself," Madison said. "His hobby was designing unusual buildings for the fun of it, I know, it sounds eccentric, but it was something his uncle, who raised him used to do as well."
"Kind of traditional Japanese meets Frank Lloyd Wright," Rhiannon said.
"Pretty good eye for a lawyer," Madison said, with a playful grin.
"You can thank Joe for teaching me that," Rhiannon demurred.
At the dinner table later, Alex surprised them all by helping Maddy with her chair.
"Why thank you, Alex," she said with a smile.
Alex shrugged. "It's nothing." His cheeks had gone a little pink.
During and after dinner, they shared tales of days of old and not so old. David listened with his usual fascination, but Alex hung on Madison's every word when she spoke; when Joe or Rhiannon spoke at length, however, he settled into his usual sullenness.
At 20.30, David, who sat next to Joe with his head on his father's lap, sat up and tugged Joe's sleeve.
"Isn't it bedtime?" David asked.
"You may stay up later if you like." Joe said.
"I'd rather not," David replied. "Can you carry me upstairs?"
"Of course I will," Joe said. He lifted David onto his arm as he stood up.
"You want me to come up and tuck you in, honey?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes, Mommy," David replied.
"Can I tag along, too?" Madison asked.
"Okay," David said.
Alex got up as Madison did. "Would you, uh, mind if I walked with you upstairs?" he asked.
"Sure," she said with a polite smile, but not looking straight at Alex.
Rhiannon helped David with his pajamas in the bathroom off the guest room, then she led him to the room he was sharing with Alex. Joe followed them in. Rhiannon hugged David and kissed him on the head before she went out to join Madison and Alex in the shadows of the hallway.
They watched Joe with David, as he helped his son into bed and sat down beside him, talking with him.
"They're great together," Madison noted, in a low voice.
"He's okay," Alex said.
"He learned all this from another David," Rhiannon said.
"That's right: he met the first David," Madison said, thinking aloud. "You're a very lucky woman, Ree—may I call you that?"
"Oh, of course; you're already beginning to feel like family."
"I am?"
"Sure: We all share a common interest, and you've been more than generous with us."
"I do what I can to make up for the mistakes of the past."
Joe smoothed the covers over David. "We'll be up to check on you," he said to the little one.
"Good night, Daddy," David whispered.
"Good night, David," Joe said.
He came out to where they waited and closed the door behind himself.
"You're wonderful with him," Madame said.
"I was built to comfort the lonely, but I have since learned other, more innocent applications of this gift," Joe said.
Madison reached up and patted Joe's head gently. He'd had women run their fingers through his hair, but no one had ever patted him like this before, almost as if she patted a dog or a child, as if he were her child.
He looked at Rhiannon to see if she disapproved of this gesture, but she smiled on them indulgently.
"I've always wanted a son, so I patted you as if you were," Madison said. "I'm old enough to be your mother, your grandmother even."
Joe lifted his chin a little proudly. "You forget that I am close to seventy."
"But you don't look a day over twenty-five, boy," she said.
He smiled soberly. "I have never had a mother, I have never needed one. Like Athena, I was born full grown from my creator's mind." His smile brightened. "But were I to need a mother, I trust that she would be someone very like you. You can be the mother—no, the grandmother of our family. Perhaps, if the Higher Power allows, you shall be the grandmother to the family of the Haven."
"Hey, you fo'getting someone?" Rhiannon teased. "Yo, I'm the Momma of this Haven!"
Joe put his arm about Rhiannon's back. "You are indeed: you are the mother to my sons and the future mother of the family of the Haven." He kissed her behind the ear.
Alex let out a loud gagging noise.
"Alex, behave," Madison ordered.
Alex's face took on an odd sort of troubled look, not quite annoyed, perhaps even dismayed. "I'm still not really part of this family." He turned and stalked down the stairs.
"Has he been imprinted—er, can he imprint?" Madison asked.
"He can, we just haven't since we're waiting for his papers to clear," Rhiannon said.
"He acts almost as if he wants me to imprint him—as his ladyfriend," Madison said, with a gauche little smile.
"That gives me two priorities upon our return," Joe said. "To imprint Alex if his papers have passed, and to write the proposal for the grant."
To be continued…
Literary Easter Eggs:
The Siamese cat—I have to confess that I'm not big on cats (I have birds), except Siamese; I had a dear friend in grade school who had two Siamese cats, one of which was the friendliest creature I ever met. I "cat-sat" the two darlings on a couple of occasions when my friend and her family had gone away on vacation. And the bit with the cat jumping on Joe when he's in bed came from something that happened to me one night when I slept over with my friend. Only I was asleep.
Terry Riley—Real classical/minimalist composer, not a real piece.
"This is my side of the bed…"—This bit of sibling rivalry and the bit with Alex spitting water are, I must admit, a wholesale thievery (with modifications) from Bill Cosby's hysterical monologue "To My Brother Russell, with Whom I Slept".
The SmartCar—an homage to KITT the sentient car, one of the stars of the 1980's TV show Knight Rider (Anyone here remember that one?).