Chapter Fifty-one
Reawakening
Malcolm Reed
The next couple of days are hell. All that saves me from insanity is drink, and Grandmother endures it and me for forty-eight hours and then literally tips a bucket of water over my head.
"Elaine'd be ashamed of you!" she says sternly, as I sit gasping up at her. "Grieve for her all you want, but it was a strong man she loved. You gotta be that man now. Be a credit to her, like she was a credit to you!"
Here in the desert, water is a valuable commodity. The waste of it as much as the shock almost stuns me.
A coarse towel smacks me square in the face, jerking me from my momentary paralysis, and wordlessly I bow my head and start to dry myself off with it.
I've literally been mad, but it's passed now. I'm sad, but I'm sane. The first appalling crash of loss has been swallowed up in the echoing abyss of loneliness.
All my plans are meaningless. I have no idea what to do with the rest of my life. To be honest, I'm not even sure I still have the capacity to care.
Grandmother puts food in front of me. I don't know what it is, but she made it so I eat it.
Later, as the sun sinks towards the horizon, I go out to the shelf. I want to be alone there, but to my outrage I see that there's already someone there, standing in front of the cairn; outlined against the low, dazzling sun, I can't see who it is, but I stride forward, intent only on driving away this trespasser on sacred ground – with violence if necessary.
"Good evening, General." The calm voice stops me in my tracks.
–Burnell?
After a moment, I move forward again. In a way, I'm glad this is the end. I won't fight, and if there's anything 'afterwards', Liz will be there waiting for me.
Dispensing easily with the small advantage of the light behind him, he shifts so that we can see each other's face.
He shows the gravitas of the authority he has now, occupying the throne. He's widely feared, and so he should be, but he's respected too; he's a leader the Pack can be proud of. He's harder than hell when he has to be, but he knows when justice is more effective than terror. I'd like to think he learned some of that from me (better late than never), but I think a lot of it was his own innate good sense.
I should imagine he's been kind enough to Hoshi. The sex end of things clearly wasn't a problem, both of them must have been pragmatic enough about that to have four kids, and he left Jupiter Station alone in Kelby's control. (He was still there, the last time I heard, and well-respected.)
Well, I won't be here to worry about it, and I don't think Grandmother will be long after me. Something she said the other day hinted as much.
(For no reason at all, I think that I haven't seen Beans since I came back. It's a tough environment for a cat, though, and maybe she ran into something that disagreed with her.)
Old habits die hard. Austin and I step into the old, familiar stance, breast to breast. With as much simplicity as I can manage, I bare my neck for his teeth.
He moves, and I think I'm coming, Liz.
