Roger Zelazny - Donnerjack

“Why two?”

“You’re talking to one who was there in the earliest times, and I’m still not sure. I’ve heard many versions of how things came to pass, and why. But I don’t really know, and I don’t think anyone else does.”

“Why?”

“It’s always that way with anything big. More and more stories grow up about it as time goes on. Then no one’s sure which is right.”

“Why?”

“Because people are always looking for the story behind the story. They’re never happy just to stop with what they’ve got.”

“Why?”

“I sometimes think they like lies.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re sort of fun. You’ll see.”

“Oh. You’re pretty.”

Alioth did a little aerial dance, then landed on the boy’s shoulder.

“I think it is best just to enjoy the moment. Everything else is somewhere within it.”

“Why?”

“Enough ‘whys’! You’ll understand soon enough. You’re already doing it. Life came before words, and that’s the trouble with words. Look at the flowers and breathe the air. Enjoy the feelings they give you.”

Young Donnerjack laughed again, and suddenly he sprang to his feet and ran through the field. Alioth followed. The ground was damp on his feet, and overhead grey clouds butted one another.

“Go home now,” said Alioth. “Soon it will rain.”

“Rain?”

“Water from the sky. You may not be able to get wet but there’s lots of energy tossed about in storms, and that’s a strange bracelet you wear. Go home now. I’ll see you again.”

“Bye-bye, Alioth.”

Dack followed discretely, pondering. The butterfly certainly seemed to mean the boy no harm—but like the strange cyberdog it made him uneasy, seeming to represent great heaps of the unknown.

Seated on a bench on the sunshiny campus of AVU, Lydia Hazzard discussed course selections for next fall with her best friend, Gwen. Out on the rolling green lawn, a couple of muscular frat boys tossed a Frisbee back and forth.

“I’m never going to be able to juggle all courses I want to take with those I need for my major,” Gwen said despairingly.

“Try my schedule,” Lydia said. “Whoever designed the premed curriculum was a sadist. They don’t want us to learn what we need to be med students; they just want us to quit.”

“I hear med school is worse.”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you dump the premed and just go for bio or chem or something, Lydia? I mean, your folks are loaded. After you were so— sick—a couple of years ago they’ll give you anything you want. But you’ve been working like crazy—catching up what you missed, taking care of Alice, I mean, what’s it worth?”

“It? Worth?”

“Life. I mean, you don’t need the money, you’ve got a really cute kid, why not take it a bit easier?”

“But I want to be a doctor, Gwen. My parents can’t hand me a medical degree.”

“Tell Hal Garcia that. His folks made a big enough donation to the university of his choice and, what do you know, not only does he get accepted, but he’s been passing all his courses. And he doesn’t study worth anything.”

“But, Gwen, I want to be a doctor, not just have a degree.”

“You work too hard.”

“And you’re a cynic.”

“Thanks!” Gwen straightened and gently punched her friend on the arm. “Want to try to pick up one of those guys?”

“No challenge, sister. I’ll bet you anything you want that they’re proges—part of the landscaping.”

“ I’m the cynic? RT campuses have frat boys—why shouldn’t VT? It’s part of the tradition.”

“Those guys are just too cute. Go ahead if you want. I’ve got to figure out my schedule and I’d rather do it here. When I get home Alice is going to be all over me.”

Gwen frowned. “Look, Lydia, are you… pining after someone?”

“Pining?”

“Wasting away, growing thin and pale, haunted by a memory…”

“You never should have taken that poetry seminar.”

“Seriously. Back in high school you dated—and you’re lots prettier now than you were then. You’ve stopped chewing your nails, your skin is better…”

“Pregnancy will do that. And ten months in virt does great things for nails.”

“Hey, don’t try to distract me. The point is, ever since you got better, you haven’t even looked at a guy.”

“I’ve looked.”

“Seriously.”

“Okay, seriously. I was in a virt coma for ten months. I wake up and I have a newborn baby. I’m crazy about her—don’t doubt that—but between rebuilding all the muscles that a transfer couch doesn’t do a great job with, catching up with my college education so I don’t have awkward things to explain when I apply to med school, and raising a kid, I haven’t had time to think about guys.”

“Think now. Try it. It doesn’t hurt—really. Put on your virtual dancing shoes and come out with me this weekend. I really miss doing stuff with you.”

“Alice…”

“Alice will be fine, just like she’s fine now. You’re a good mom, but what are you going to do when she starts school?”

“Be in school myself, probably. Med school takes time.”

“Lydia!”

“All right. I’ll come out with you this weekend, Gwen.”

“Great!”

A shadow interrupted the sun. Both young women looked up automatically. A man, perhaps in his midthirties, had paused on the path and was studying them, a faintly quizzical look on his neatly bearded face. He wore dark blue jeans, a green shirt, and work boots.

“Miz Lydia?” he said softly. “Is that you? After all this time?”

“Ambry?” She rose, absently setting the college catalogue on the bench. “Ambry?”

Gwen grabbed her arm. “Lydia? What’s wrong? Who’s this?”

Lydia wrenched her gaze from the man with difficulty.

“He’s an old friend, Gwen. Let me introduce you to Martin Ambry.”

“Old friend? From—”

Gwen’s words stopped abruptly, understanding taking shape. She accepted the hand Ambry extended to her and shook it firmly.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Miz Gwen,” Ambry said, humble yet in command of the odd moment. “Lydia has spoken of you often and with great affection.”

“She hasn’t spoken of you,” Gwen said defensively, then a shy smile blossomed on her face. “Except in everything she hasn’t said. I’m pleased to meet you at last.”

“Can we ask you not to speak of this meeting?” Ambry asked.

“Is she going to vanish again?”

“No. That would not do. Her baby would miss her.”

“You know about the baby, but, of course, you would. I won’t say anything if she doesn’t vanish again and if she promises to call and fill me in later.”

Lydia squeezed her. “I will. Promise.”

“I’ll be going now. I’d guess you two have a lot to talk about. Good to meet you, Martin Ambry.”

“And you, Miz Gwen.”

She gathered her belongings and with a final wave walked off in the direction of the Frisbee players. Lydia banished her catalogue and, when Ambry offered his arm, found herself suddenly shy.

“Walk with me, Lydia?”

Without meeting his searching gaze, she looped her arm through his and they strolled together down a winding path that led toward a lake.

“It has been a long time, Lydia.”

“Alice has turned two.”

“And you wonder where I have been.”

“Well… yes.”

“I wanted to come sooner, but between your departure from our home in Virtu and now things have been happening.”

“Things?”

“I’m a deserter from an army, Lydia, among other things. Soon after you left to have our baby, someone tried to find me, to reenlist me. I was forced to flee.”