Майкл Бламлейн - Longer

“He looks good.”

“Different?”

“Younger.”

Obviously. “Happy?”

“Sure.”

“Eager?”

“Raring to go.” This was Dash in a nutshell.

“No change there.”

“That’s right. Not there.”

“Handsome, I assume.”

“They’re all handsome at that age.”

“You know what I mean.”

He did. It went without saying. Dashaud Mikelson. A unique and uniquely striking man. “I was handsome once, so I’ve been told.”

“I never noticed.”

“You loved me for my brain.”

“The same way you loved me.”

An old joke.

The ice was melting. He could feel it. Had never wanted anything more.

He hated the thought of pushing her away. Hated the idea of losing her love. This thaw—implicit, unspoken—filled him with hope. He felt himself falling for her just as he had the very first time. And repeatedly since then. Felt the world disappear, his heart expand.

“I love you, Gunjita.”

She smiled, without taking her eyes from the screen. “Love you, too, baby.”

He felt a stirring. A rare occurrence. Not to be lightly dismissed, or squandered.

He pressed against her hip. Slid his arm around her neck. Then under her shirt.

“Not now,” she said.

“We have time.”

She didn’t argue. Let him have his way, but eventually lifted his hand from her breast, pressed it to her lips, then returned it to him. “Later, okay?”

She had other things on her mind. He understood this. He had other things on his, too. Things that he’d set in motion. When those things took on a life of their own, there were bound to be disappointments. People couldn’t help but get their feelings hurt.

He kissed the top of her head. Their future was approaching. He watched the screen with her, but after a while got tired of it, kissed her again, then left to take a nap.

Three hours later he was shaking Dash’s hand. Then hugging him, which was like hugging a god. They separated, and Dash faced Gunjita.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello, Dashaud.”

“Long time.”

“Ages.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you.” He had a smile that lit the room. That part of him hadn’t changed.

“How was your flight?” she asked.

“Uneventful.”

Tiptoeing around, and why not?

“First time?”

“In space? No.”

“Dash did an internship,” said Cav.

“I didn’t know.”

“Muscle research,” said Dash. “Low-grav effects. Early stuff. I was up for a month.”

“Before my time.”

“It was in my résumé.”

“Must have slipped my mind. Can’t imagine why.”

Dash let it slide. “Cav says you’re working on it now.”

“Muscles? We’re not.”

“Actomyosin,” said Cav.

“Not by design. But it’s there. Can’t get away from it.”

Dash nodded. “That’s how it was with us.”

“Pain in the ass getting our cells to divide. Getting consistent motion of any kind.”

“Weak signal,” he commiserated.

“Creature of Earth. Or was. Now it doesn’t know what it’s supposed to do. How to behave. A very confused molecule.”

“I’d be confused, too,” said Dash. “Torn from my momma.”

A harmless comment. Sweet even. She wondered what he meant. Realized how little she knew of him. How little she wanted to know. How determined she was, out of spite alone, to keep him at arm’s length.

“I’m its new mother,” she said. “I’m teaching it to toe the line.”

“She’s doing all the hard work,” said Cav.

“ All the lifting.”

“Not all.”

“It’s fine, dear. Everyone needs a vacation.” She patted his cheek condescendingly, a public display of marital discord she would later apologize for. She was nervous, and not herself. A forgivable offense, given the circumstances.

“Cav says you’ve been enhanced.”

“It’s true,” said Dash.

“Your sense of touch.”

“True again.”

“Everywhere?”

“My fingertips mostly.”

“Where else?”

A moment’s hesitation, as if unsure what she was asking. “Mostly them.”

Now she had made him nervous, too. She felt both better and worse. Stifled the urge to ask for an on-the-spot demonstration. But didn’t skimp on the feigned enthusiasm.

“Wonderful. Magic fingers. You’ve come to us in the nick of time. Cav says you can feel everything now.”

“Not everything.”

“Life? Can you feel that?”

“Yes.”

“The difference between life and nonlife?”

“Yes. I believe so.”

“Perfect. You can weigh in. Give us your enhanced opinion.”

He gave her a look, as if to ask: Why are you doing this?

They locked eyes.

“I’ll do what I can,” he said quietly. “Cav?”

“Yes. By all means. May not have to cut. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Done any lately?” she asked.

He thought of the fulmar. “A little.”

“Still an ace with the knife? You and it still one?”

“I can find my way around.”

“Thin slice?”

“Sure. As thin as you need.” Puffing out his chest a little.

“What about fixing the specimen? Staining it? Prepping the slide? Can you do that?”

“Not my area of expertise. But I can follow the prompts. How hard can it be?”

“What about reading it?” she asked.

“What is this, a job interview?”

“The job’s yours. I’m finding out if you can do it.”

“I assume you have software.”

“This thing may not be in the database. Probably isn’t.”

“You’re throwing up roadblocks.”

“Not me,” she said.

“I’m not a pathologist.”

Cav had heard enough. “None of us is. But we all know something. Put our heads together, chances are we’ll be close to the mark. But first things first. You brought the HUBIES?”

“Brought everything.”

“They survived the flight? They’re functional?”

“Will be by tomorrow.”

“Are they awake?”

“They’re warming up.”

“I’d like to see.” He glanced at Gunjita. “Gunjita’s not pleased.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. They exist. We might as well use them.”

“I agree,” he said. “Let them do what they were meant to do. Fulfill their purpose. Assuage our guilt.”

“I have no guilt,” said Dash. “We were responding to a need.”

“Supposed,” said Gunjita.

“Idealized,” said Cav. “No matter. We took liberties. It’s what we do. Latitude in all things, especially when we wear our research hats. Occupational hazard. Industry standard. You weren’t the only one feeding the machine.”

“You didn’t feel threatened? You weren’t afraid?” Dash couldn’t believe it. The Hoax was a nightmare that touched every corner or the globe.

Gunjita laughed. “Cav? You’re kidding, right? When they filled the skies, and the world was freaking out, he was rubbing his hands, and had a big fat grin on his face. It was a dream come true.”

“You exaggerate.”

“I was visiting my grandparents,” said Dash. “They were scared to death. Everyone was.”

“Not everyone.”

“It was a lesson,” said Cav. “What we will and won’t permit. Playing to our greatest fear.”

“Annihilation,” said Dash.

“Enslavement,” said Gunjita.

“Invasion,” said Cav. “Ironic, considering what we harbor in our own bodies. How many alien species at last count? How many alien cells? At least half of who we are is nonhuman.”

“Your point?” asked Gunjita, who feared a rambling speech.

“We wouldn’t be alive were it not for them. They wouldn’t be alive were it not for us. We should be more tolerant. We’re bigger than we behave. Harmony is woven into our DNA.”