Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [57]
“Since I cannot give you young,” I said bitterly.
That is our way, our immortality. We are long-lived, compared to humans. We breed less often, but we create a new generation at a time. And I could give her nothing of it.
“You have given me the universe,” she responded, smiling.
That she could smile while I hurt in ways I could not understand—it broke something in me. I did not understand the heart of her, then. She is made of brightness, too much for sorrow. Such a glad spirit—I am humbled now that she shared it with me.
And so, I went from Gehenna, went back to building my own legend, with a hole in me that would take longer to fill than I knew. But that, too, is another story.
CHAPTER 17
Twenty turns, such a long time. The weight of the story bears on me, making me understand why it’s hard for him to see her like this, now. Because of his life span, their time together doesn’t feel like an affair that ended long ago; in Vel’s terms, theirs is a fairly recent breakup, strange as that might seem to me.
“You love her still.”
“I do not know,” Vel answers. “I have never been sure if I have the capacity. It is not an Ithtorian emotion.”
Maybe not love, then. But caring. Affection. Whatever word he chooses, it applies to what he shared with Adele. I finish my drink and clear our tab with the servo-bot, then it’s time to move along. We step back onto the public walk, only a short distance from Adele’s flat now. Given what he told me, I can’t imagine what this is like for him, but he’s determined. I follow in his wake as the crowd eddies around him. The stares still bother me, but I don’t start anything. On Gehenna, people don’t remember my face like they do on New Terra. It would be a mistake to make myself notorious here as well.
Then I’m standing outside, gazing up. Unerringly, I find the row of glastique windows along the top. Mary, I was so happy there; sleeping right up against the windowpanes reminded me of flying. It was the only time I’ve ever been content when I wasn’t jumping. The rest of the building is an artistic nightmare, and as I recall, the lifts don’t work. There’s no security to speak of, so we pass inside unquestioned and walk up the flights to her apartment.
Vel touches the panel beside her door, but instead of asking who it is, she buzzes us in. She always had a whisper of prescience about her—and I hope it’s kicking in now. Otherwise, she’s too trusting for her own good. I step into the flat, which smells of tea and good fruit marmalade. She has a tray waiting on the table in her salon, but she does not get up. As I step closer, I see the lap robe tucked across her legs. She has aged visibly since the last time I saw her, more gray in her hair, and her skin has gone sallow.
“Forgive me for not greeting you properly,” she says warmly. “But I’m not getting around as well as I once did.”
“Were you expecting us?” Vel asks.
“I said I’d see you again, didn’t I? I’m never wrong about these things.”
He crosses to press the side of his face to her cheek. The chip recognizes the gesture as akin to a kiss, at least in Ithtorian terms. She touches the hinge of his mandible with familiar tenderness, her milky eyes lit with such joy that it hurts me to look at them. I sit down and take a cup to give my hands something to do, doctoring it with sweetener to avoid violating their privacy.
Vel clicks to her, and the translation software can’t process it, but even without interpretation, I sense it’s a sound of deep and abiding affection.
“Will we meet again?” he asks.
Adele shakes her head. “At last the time has come to say good-bye, my dear.”
“How can you know that?” I don’t mean to interrupt, but the question stands.
“That is my gift—and my curse. The knowing.”
“Are you saying you’re Psi?” That would explain a lot.
“I’d never say that because it would mean I broke the law by not turning myself over to Psi-Corp for indoctrination and training. But if I were, well, it’s such a tiny little talent. I can’t foretell the fate of random strangers, only those I love.”
I smile. “I won’t tell, I promise.