The Zenith Angle - Bruce Sterling [132]
He had married a proud, shy, lonely, vulnerable young woman with an intellectual gift. And now, in his care, and due to him, she was reduced to . . . what? She was a soldier’s wife, he thought. A woman who made do. He was one of the world’s secret soldiers. They had become hard, gritty, wounded people with bitter lines around their mouths. What did the future offer them?
“Derek, something important has happened . . .”
Van moved to the edge of his new chair. “What?”
“You’re going to have me around a whole lot. You’re going to have me on your hands all the time.” Dottie rubbed her forehead. “This is my birthday present for you, but you’re really going to have to put up with me now, honey . . .”
What on earth was the woman rattling on about? Why didn’t she cut to the chase?
“Derek, I’m pregnant.”
Van absorbed this input. Where was Ted? he thought instantly. Ted really needed to hear this news. This was going to be of enormous importance to Ted.
“I know this is a bad time for us to have a baby . . . But, you know, the only job offer I’ve got is in Denmark . . . Oh, God, Derek, I’ve been so careless and stupid . . . I can’t believe that happened. It just ruins everything. After all this, things are so bad for us, and now I’m pregnant.” Dottie burst into sobs.
Van felt something extraordinary happening within him. A dead black crust was breaking open. He had known no word for that feeling until it began to lift away from him under tremendous internal pressure. But now he knew what that feeling had been. It was grief. It was grief.
Now the black grief was receding from him. It was blasting away from his heart at half the speed of light. Something inside him that had been tiny and sparklike and bitterly embattled was expanding like a vast red star.
He was huge inside. He glowed and burned. He had gravity.
“Baby, that is great news. You are saving our lives here.”
Dottie lifted her head. Her morale was in visible ruins. “I get so sick, with that morning sickness. I get so helpless . . .”
“This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”
She blinked in disbelief. “You really think so?”
“I don’t think so. I know so. Four people in our family, that is like a little squad. We’ll get really quick, and stop complaining so much from now on. We’ll change our lazy habits. We’ll get things done whenever they need to get done.”
“Derek, this will ruin our careers.”
“No it won’t. Your career will move right on. You will take that job in Denmark. I will look after our kids.”
Dottie’s eyes widened. “We’re moving to Denmark?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna sell everything here and we’ll move to Europe. Right away.”
A hectic flush rose to Dottie’s cheeks. “What, even these chairs? But I just bought us this furniture.”
“Honey, Europe is well known for its furniture. These are European chairs.”
“What about your career, Derek?”
“I know what I’m doing. Honey, it is senseless for intelligent people not to have children. Why would I want to vote against the future? What we need is a good strategy. And I’ve got one for us. You will work. I will stay home with the children.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You’d make that sacrifice for us?”
“What sacrifice? I love the idea of two kids. I need this. It’ll be broadening for me. Am I nailed here in Washington, for any reason? I can hit a RETURN key anywhere in the world.”
Though it was his birthday, Dottie needed consoling. He lavished some on her. That worked. Dottie was still weeping in happiness as they lay in bed together. Van stared silently at the ceiling.
It was a very good move for him to get out of Washington. A lateral move, very Liddell-Hart, very Sun Tzu. When power avoided you, a counteravoidance move lured power back in.
His wife didn’t need to know this, but the Administration had way too many people like himself, wandering loose. Now that Van had learned, by startling counterexamples, something about sound and competent governance, he was very aware that the Terror was just the Bubble