worse shape.”
I ate my protein while Jamie watched with hawk-like attention as each bite traveled from the tray to my
mouth. I ate it all to please him, though it made my stomach ache to eat so much.
The kitchen started to fill up again as I was finishing. A few had apples in their hands—all sharing with
someone else. Curious eyes examined the sore side of my face.
“Why’s everyone coming here now?” I muttered to Jamie. It was black outside, the dinner hour long
over.
Jamie looked at me blankly for a second. “To hear you teach.” His tone added the wordsof course.
“Are you kidding me?”
“I told you nothing’s changed.”
I stared around the narrow room. It wasn’t a full house. No Doc tonight, and none of the returned
raiders, which meant no Paige, either. No Jeb, no Ian, no Walter. A few others missing: Travis, Carol,
Ruth Ann. But more than I would have thought, if I’d thought anyone would consider following the
“Can we go back to the Dolphins, where we left off?” Wes asked, interrupting my evaluation of the
room. I could see that he’d taken it upon himself to start the ball rolling, rather than that he was vitally
interested in the kinship circles of an alien planet.
Everyone looked at me expectantly. Apparently, life was not changing as much as I’d thought.
I took a tray of rolls from Heidi’s hands and turned to shove it into the stone oven. I started talking with
my back still turned.
“So… um… hmm… the, uh, third set of grandparents… They traditionally serve the community, as they
see it. On Earth, they would be the breadwinners, the ones who leave the home and bring back
sustenance. They are farmers, for the most part. They cultivate a plant-like growth that they milk for its
sap.…”
And life went on.
Jamie tried to talk me out of sleeping in the supply corridor, but his attempt was halfhearted. There just
wasn’t another place for me. Stubborn as usual, he insisted on sharing my quarters. I imagined Jared
didn’t like that, but as I didn’t see him that night or the next day, I couldn’t verify my theory.
It was awkward again, going about my usual chores, with the six raiders home—just like when Jeb had
first forced me to join the community. Hostile stares, angry silences. It was harder for them than it was for
me, though—Iwas used to it. They, on the other hand, were entirely unaccustomed to the way everyone
else treated me. When I was helping with the corn harvest, for example, and Lily thanked me for a fresh
basket with a smile, Andy’s eyes bulged in their sockets at the exchange. Or when I was waiting for the
bathing pool with Trudy and Heidi, and Heidi began playing with my hair. It was growing, always
swinging in my eyes these days, and I was planning to shear it off again. Heidi was trying to find a style
for me, flipping the strands this way and that. Brandt and Aaron—Aaron was the oldest man who’d gone
on the long raid, someone I couldn’t remember having seen before at all—came out and found us there,
Trudy laughing at some silly atrocity Heidi was attempting to create atop my head, and both men turned a
little green and stalked silently past us.
Of course, little things like that were nothing. Kyle roamed the caves now, and though he was obviously
under orders to leave me in peace, his expression made it clear that this restriction was repugnant to him.
I was always with others when I crossed his path, and I wondered if that was the only reason he did
nothing more than glower at me and unconsciously curl his thick fingers into claws. This brought back all
the panic from my first weeks here, and I might have succumbed to it—begun hiding again, avoiding the
common areas—but something more important than Kyle’s murderous glares came to my attention that
second night.
The kitchen filled up again—I’m not sure how much was interest in my stories and how much was
interest in the chocolate bars Jeb handed out. I declined mine, explaining to a disgruntled Jamie that I
couldn’t talk and chew at the same time; I suspected that he would save one for me, obstinate as ever.
Ian was back in his usual hot seat by the fire, and Andy was there—eyes wary—beside Paige. None of
the other raiders, including Jared, of course, was in attendance. Doc was not there, and I wondered if he
was still drunk or perhaps hung-over. And again, Walter was absent.
Geoffrey, Trudy’s husband, questioned me for the first time tonight. I was pleased, though I tried not to
show it, that he seemed to have joined the ranks of the humans who tolerated me. But I couldn’t answer
spoke, and I didn’t recognize the voice.
“Yes, that’s true,” I agreed evenly.
“So you don’t know what they use to cure diseases, then?” Geoffrey pressed. “What’s in their
medications?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. It wasn’t something I was interested in, back when I had access to
the information. I’m afraid I took it for granted. Good health is simply a given on every planet I’ve lived
on.”
Geoffrey’s red cheeks flushed brighter than usual. He looked down, an angry set to his mouth. What had
I said to offend him?
Heath, sitting beside Geoffrey, patted his arm. There was a pregnant silence in the room.
“Uh—about the Vultures…” Ian said—the words were forced, a deliberate subject change. “I don’t
know if I missed this part sometime, but I don’t remember you ever explaining about them being
‘unkind’… ?”
It wasn’t something Ihad explained, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t really that interested—this was just
the first question he’d been able to think of.
My informal class ended earlier than usual. The questions were slow, and most of them supplied by
Jamie and Ian. Geoffrey’s questions had left everyone else preoccupied.
“Well, we’ve got an early one tomorrow, tearing down the stalks…” Jeb mused after yet another
awkward silence, making the words a dismissal. People rose to their feet and stretched, talking in low
voices that weren’t casual enough.
“What did I say?” I whispered to Ian.
“Nothing. They’ve got mortality on their minds.” He sighed.
My human brain made one of those leaps in understanding that they called intuition.
“Where’s Walter?” I demanded, still whispering.
Ian sighed again. “He’s in the south wing. He’s… not doing well.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
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”
I shook my head impatiently at that consideration. “What’s wrong with him?”
Jamie was there beside me now; he took my hand.
“Some of Walter’s bones snapped, they’re so brittle,” he said in a hushed voice. “Doc’s sure it’s
cancer—final stages, he says.”
“Walt must have been keeping quiet about the pain for a long while now,” Ian added somberly.
I winced. “And there’s nothing to be done? Nothing at all?”
Ian shook his head, keeping his brilliant eyes on mine. “Not for us. Even if we weren’t stuck here, there
would be no help for him now. We never cured that one.”
I bit my lip against the suggestion I wanted to make. Of course there was nothing to do for Walter. Any
of these humans would rather die slowly and in pain than trade their mind for their body’s cure. I could
understand that… now.
“He’s been asking for you,” Ian continued. “Well, he says your name sometimes; it’s hard to tell what he
means—Doc’s keeping him drunk to help with the pain.”
“Doc feels real bad about using so much of the alcohol himself,” Jamie added. “Bad timing, all around.”
“Can I see him?” I asked. “Or will that make the others unhappy?”
Ian frowned and snorted. “Wouldn’t that be just like some people, to get worked up over this?” He
shook his head. “Who cares, though, right? If it’s Walt’s final wish…”
“Right,” I agreed. The wordfinal had my eyes burning. “If seeing me is what Walter wants, then I guess
it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, or if they get mad.”
“Don’t worry about that—I’m not going to let anybody harass you.” Ian’s white lips pressed into a thin
line.
I felt anxious, like I wanted to look at a clock. Time had ceased to mean much to me, but suddenly I felt
the weight of a deadline. “Is it too late to go tonight? Will we disturb him?”
“He’s not sleeping regular hours. We can go see.”
I started walking at once, dragging Jamie because he still gripped my hand. The sense of passing time, of
endings and finality, propelled me forward. Ian caught up quickly, though, with his long stride.
In the moonlit garden cavern, we passed others who for the most part paid us no mind. I was too often
in the company of Jamie and Ian to cause any curiosity, though we weren’t headed for the usual tunnels.
The one exception was Kyle. He froze midstride when he saw his brother beside me. His eyes flashed
down to see Jamie’s hand in mine, and then his lips twisted into a snarl.
When we were in the blackness of the long tunnel south, I tried to free that hand. Ian gripped it tighter.
“I wish you wouldn’t make him angrier,” I muttered.
“Kyle is wrong. Being wrong is sort of a habit with him. He’ll take longer than anyone else to get over it,
but that doesn’t mean we should make allowances for him.”
“He frightens me,” I admitted in a whisper. “I don’t want him to have more reasons to hate me.”
Ian and Jamie squeezed my hands at the same time. They spoke simultaneously.
“Don’t be afraid,” Jamie said.
“Jeb’s made his opinion very clear,” Ian said.
“What do you mean?” I asked Ian.
“If Kyle can’t accept Jeb’s rules, then he’s no longer welcome here.”
“But that’s wrong. Kyle belongs here.”
Ian grunted. “He’s staying… so he’ll just have to learn to deal.”
We didn’t talk again through the long walk. I was feeling guilty—it seemed to be a permanent emotional
state here. Guilt and fear and heartbreak. Why had I come?
Because you do belong here, oddly enough,Melanie whispered. She was very aware of the warmth of
Ian’s and Jamie’s hands, wrapped around and twined with mine.Where else have you ever had this?
Nowhere,I confessed, feeling only more depressed.But it doesn’t make me belong. Not the way you
do.
We’re a package deal, Wanda.
As if I needed reminding.…
I was a little surprised to hear her so clearly. She’d been quiet the last two days, waiting, anxious, hoping
to see Jared again. Of course, I’d been similarly occupied.
Maybe he’s with Walter. Maybe that’s where he’s been,Melanie thought hopefully.
That’s not why we’re going to see Walter.
No. Of course not.Her tone was repentant, but I realized that Walter did not mean as much to her as he
did to me. Naturally, she was sad that he was dying, but she had accepted that outcome from the
beginning. I, on the other hand, could not bring myself to accept it, even now. Walter was my friend, not
hers. I was the one he’d defended.
I hated this room. In the darkness, with the odd shadows thrown by the weak glow, it seemed only
more forbidding. There was a new smell—the room reeked of slow decay and stinging alcohol and bile.
Two of the cots were occupied. Doc’s feet hung over the edge of one; I recognized his light snore. On
the other, looking hideously withered and misshapen, Walter watched us approach.
“Are you up for visitors, Walt?” Ian whispered when Walter’s eyes drifted in his direction.
“Ungh,” Walter moaned. His lips drooped from his slack face, and his skin gleamed wetly in the low
light.
“Is there anything you need?” I murmured. I pulled my hands free—they fluttered helplessly in the air
between me and Walter.
His loosely rolling eyes searched the darkness. I took a step closer.
“Is there anything we can do for you? Anything at all?”
His eyes roamed till they found my face. Abruptly, they focused through the drunken stupor and the
pain.
“Finally,” he gasped. His breath wheezed and whistled. “I knew you would come if I waited long
enough. Oh, Gladys, I have so much to tell you.”
CHAPTER 31
Needed
Ifroze and then looked quickly over my shoulder to see if someone was behind me.
“Gladys was his wife,” Jamie whispered almost silently. “She didn’t escape.”
“Gladys,” Walter said to me, oblivious to my reaction. “Would you believe I went and got cancer? What
are the odds, eh? Never took a sick day in my life…” His voice faded out until I couldn’t hear it, but his
lips continued to move. He was too weak to lift his hand; his fingers dragged themselves toward the edge
of the cot, toward me.
Ian nudged me forward.
“What should I do?” I breathed. The sweat beading on my forehead had nothing to do with the humid
heat.
“. . . grandfather lived to be a hundred and one,” Walter wheezed, audible again. “Nobody ever had
cancer in my family, not even the cousins. Didn’t your aunt Regan have skin cancer, though?”
He looked at me trustingly, waiting for an answer. Ian poked me in the back.
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.
“Maybe that was Bill’s aunt,” Walter allowed.
I shot a panicked glance at Ian, who shrugged. “Help,” I mouthed at him.
He motioned for me to take Walter’s searching fingers.
Walter’s skin was chalk white and translucent. I could see the faint pulse of blood in the blue veins on
the back of his hand. I lifted his hand gingerly, worried about the slender bones that Jamie had said were
so brittle. It felt too light, as if it were hollow.
“Ah, Gladdie, it’s been hard without you. It’s a nice place here; you’ll like it, even when I’m gone.
Plenty of people to talk to—I know how you need to have your conversation.…” The volume of his
voice sank until I couldn’t make out the words anymore, but his lips still shaped the words he wanted to
share with his wife. His mouth kept moving, even when his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side.
Ian found a wet cloth and began wiping Walter’s shining face.
“I’m not good at… at deception,” I whispered, watching Walter’s mumbling lips to make sure he wasn’t
listening to me. “I don’t want to upset him.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Ian reassured me. “He’s not lucid enough to care.”
“Do I look like her?”
“Not a bit—I’ve seen her picture. Stocky redhead.”
“Here, let me do that.”
Ian gave me the rag, and I cleaned the sweat off Walter’s neck. Busy hands always made me feel more
comfortable. Walter continued to mumble. I thought I heard him say, “Thanks, Gladdie, that’s nice.”
