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Part 1
Part 2
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Part 3
I tried not to worry, but I worried anyway. When I was alone in the evenings and finally done studying, some nights I would take out my dress and just look at it, hoping it would be protection enough.
It never occurred to me that they were even more worried about meeting their father than I was about meeting them, not until I got email from Grey admitting as much.
“We’re afraid of not living up to his expectations, the twins more than me since they don’t remember him as a human being.”
“But you’re all intelligent, high-achievers,” I wrote back. “He’s proud of each of you. I can tell by the way he talks.”
“We know this,” Grey wrote back. “Some of the guys in the dorm never had a kind or supportive word from their fathers. Dad’s always praised us and made time to talk us through trouble, even though he could only do that electronically. We understand his health problems kept him away from us.”
“When you see the faux skin and gloves you’ll realize how unusual his life is. Most days he doesn’t eat real food, but drinks a sterile pink slurry. He doesn’t complain, but he’s lived this way for almost twenty years. It must be very strange. I don’t know if I could do it.”
“Mom saw him once in the plastic skin. She said it was horrible. At the time, she thought it would only be temporary, but nothing has changed since 1991.”
“Don’t worry about being good enough, Grey, and tell Deirdre and Michelle not to worry, either. He accepted me under awkward circumstances, which he was not compelled to do. Only a good man would have done that.”
Yes, difficult and awkward circumstances. The time had come to ask Mason for something. I rarely showed up in his office, wanting to keep his work and private life as separate and distinct as possible. When I did go to his office, he knew it was important and made time for me.
“I want to ask you for something.”
Probably he thought I wanted a car or some other adolescent delight.
“Ask.”
“I want to have your name.”
“It’s always been yours for the asking, Catherine. I wasn’t going to press the issue. I’ll have to ask the lawyers what’s involved, but I’ll change what I call you now.”
“Thank you.”
Free of Adam and his intrusions, I was able to throw myself wholeheartedly into my studies, an eclectic amalgam of disciplines. The intention was for me to spend a year doing this, and then enroll in a formal high school. I minded neither the work nor the hours. Among my tutors were specialists Mason hired, and Jesse, Rebecca and himself.
One Saturday afternoon, Rebecca and Mason demonstrated the conduct of the Battle of Hastings on the sloping shores of the lake, making the fate of the unlucky Harold indelible in my mind.
Once I had struggled to get through 8th grade algebra, but through Rebecca’s patience, I not only got through algebra, but pressed on into the calculus.
All of this was a lot of work. I put more time into studying in a single day than I formerly had into an entire week. Somehow, this was different.
Mason had a peculiar kind of ‘family room’ carved out of an unused suite of offices. I say peculiar not because of the furnishings, but because a pair of armed GSA stood watch outside the door. Rebecca was thrilled. She dragged all of her electronic toys out of storage and assembled them.
Any studying requiring concentration I did in my room, but fiction reading I did in the family room, with Rebecca and Mason reading or watching a movie. Neither of them had much interest in series television, and were mostly unfamiliar with programs I thought everyone knew. Rebecca hadn’t watched a series faithfully since the X-Files, and was annoyed by the way Dana had gone off into the sunset with porn-watching Mulder, whom she thought Dana would have found stupefying boring. Mason would admit only to watching Babylon 5.
At first I thought this room was a silly idea, but the sense of it became apparent quickly. It was not work space or personal space belonging to an individual, so we could all feel comfortable there. Mason allowed no employees inside, at least on work matters. Emma and Jesse were regular visitors.
It wasn’t important that we talked all the time to one another, although we did talk. The important part was that we were present in the same space and could talk. We took our evening meal here, the meal we always ate together. In this room, the meal had a very different, private feeling compared to the cafeteria.
For the sake of security, this room was windowless like my own, which also made it safer.
The two armed guards who stood outside in the evening weren’t the first line of defense, but nearly the last. Mason expected Adam to return.
One evening, while paying no attention to Kurosawa’s Ran which they were watching (again), I became deeply absorbed sailing the wine-dark sea with Homer, something which had hopelessly bored me when I first had to read it years before. I completely ignored the movie since I could not see the subtitles where I was sitting. I noticed that the movie had ended and that there was no reaction from Rebecca and Mason, who had been watching side by side in the floor.
They were both sound asleep. Mason was curled about Rebecca, face buried in her hair, arm holding her. There were people who believed their marriage was a fiction, but when I saw things like this I knew better.
I did not have the heart to wake them, so I turned off the tv and the DVD player and had one of the guards escort me to my room, and reflected upon the odd life I was living, and how much I liked it.
As warm and sweet as my description of this scene sounds, the details add additional flavors. They were both armed. They never went anywhere unarmed as far as I could tell. They might be wearing jeans and t-shirts, but that meant only they wouldn’t be covering their automatics with jackets.
Mason always expected Adam to return. He said Adam could not adjust to changed circumstances and that he would not abandon his confused campaign of ‘saving’ Genomex mutants.
The days were long past when Mason was all alone in the complex at night. Rather than set up routine patrols, the patterns of what was watched and when was changed daily. Shift changes were staggered. Badge colors were changed frequently, at irregular intervals. If Rebecca woke up Tuesday and told Mason that visitor’s badges should be triangular and mauve, by 10 AM that is exactly what was in place. This may sound capricious or silly, but patterns and routines invite intrusion. Having Rebecca make whimsical decisions kept the changes random and unpredictable.
Still, what little we heard of Adam described a marginalized man (or android or whatever he was). Mason’s contacts among formerly underground mutants were surprised to learn Adam was still out there, still trying to convince mutants to go into hiding. Very rarely, someone would relate to Mason the tale of trying to convince Adam of coming out of hiding. They described Adam’s grasp of reality as tenuous.
Rather than rejoice over the reduction of an old enemy to a purposeless anachronism, Mason more wisely became wary, deciding the shattering of Adam’s reality made him far more dangerous than before. The course and flow of Adam’s life was forcing him into a corner.
I spent time reflecting upon Adam and realized that no matter how he interpreted his descent into obscurity, he had to feel betrayed by life and all the promise he displayed early on.
What did he now have to show for his talents and intelligence? He was mostly living out of the Double Helix, sharing cramped quarters never intended to be living space, with an unimaginative, unintellectual, unreliable felon. Surely this life could bear little resemblance to Mason’s, which had become astonishingly…human.
Adam loathed Mason, though he often spoke of Mason’s hatred of him as it were unique, pathological, and unjustified. I was beginning to unravel Adam’s hatred for Mason and see it for what it was: jealousy.
Adam knew more about genetics than Mason ever would, but Adam had created a human tragedy and technical disaster applying his knowledge of genetics. Even though Adam would never admit it, Mason was making good progress towards lessening the impact upon society of Adam’s unholy human failures , while Adam did nothing but deny there was a problem and insist that Mason was setting a vile trap cloaked by an offer of normal life and medical help.
While Adam knew genetics, Mason was in truth more broadly educated. That must have annoyed Adam no end. Outside the bounds of Adam’s specialty, Mason could outmaneuver and outdistance Adam.
They had competed for the same women.
I had had no contact with Jacqueline Eckhart, or Jacqueline Winsor, her current name, so about her I could only guess, but how she could ever have chosen to leave Mason for Adam was a mystery, now that I was well acquainted with Adam’s dubious character.
For most of my life I assumed that the lofty and wonderful Adam was my father, but now I was proud of Mason, and glad that for once my mother had displayed good taste in men. Adam must have been furious when analysis of my genetics revealed my proper pedigree.
Of course, there was Rebecca, who saw through Adam immediately, and could not stand him. Naturally, the only woman Adam really wanted was the one who thought he was a pompous ass. The stories about Adam’s vain pursuit were amusing. Adam must be buying antacids by the bagful, knowing that the woman who rejected him so publicly was sleeping with Mason Eckhart.
All this while Adam lived out his days in the scintillating company of Brennan Mulwray.
As hateful as Adam was about Mason, privately Mason wasted little thought upon Adam. His thoughts had always dwelt upon the three children from his marriage, but now he had Rebecca and me as well. For anyone paying careful attention, such as Laura Varady, Mason’s transition was remarkable.
How I wished I could have told Adam of the evenings and weekends my increasingly not so odd little family spent together. How I wished I could have driven the smirk from Adam’s face, describing to him how Mason and I managed to craft a belated but loving father/daughter relationship. Mason was not demonstrative in front of his employees, but we were comfortable now with one another. I found myself wishing I could tell Adam.
I had believed Mason was reserved in the company of strangers, but I was astonished when Rebecca told me Mason generally—or formerly—had been horrified by the touch of another person.
Piecing information together, I was able to deduce Mason had spent nearly two decades in something of an emotional wilderness. Sometime later, I realized Rebecca had been lost in a similar wilderness of her own.
We did more than sit in that windowless room together. We ventured out into the wider world together. Sometimes Emma and Jesse joined us, especially for hikes through woodlands or walks through gardens. Before Incident X, Mason had been a serious gardener, growing all sorts of flowers and edibles. Now, that was all gone. He did not dare touch soil or handle plants.
He knew an amazing amount about plants, and obviously enjoyed talking to Emma about growing things. Most of his old, pre-Incident X library was too laden with mold or dust to be allowed into his quarters. The books that could not be cleaned were microfilmed, and the originals put into storage. Mason gave Emma the gardening titles from the stored books.
The better I grew to know Mason, the more I understood just how much of himself had been lost after Incident X. the more I knew, the more striking I found his survival.
The most amusing aspect of these outings was the way Mason changed his singular appearance, wearing wire-rim glasses and a dark brown wig. Emma especially found this amusing, but she understood why he would not want to be noticed.
Neither Emma nor Jesse had any interest in classical music or art, and I’ll admit I had not been exposed to these universes. Rebecca and Mason had very different tastes in both spheres, so I was introduced to a broad range of artists and composers.
We’d drive as far away as three hours from Genomex to see special exhibits in other cities. Mason had never driven this far himself, being cautious of his physical fragility.
We looked like a family. We acted like one. Strangers assumed we were a family; perhaps we were.
Rebecca and I even took an eight-week course in watercolors together.
If all of this sounds warm and fuzzy and exciting and fun, well, it was. But it would be misleading to state that this was the whole of our lives together. Not everything was positive or pleasant.
Mason’s father died unexpectedly in early fall, and the three of us flew on the GSA Citation to the funeral. Mason never considered flying commercial. The recycled virus and bacteria-laden air probably would have killed him.
So it was that I met my half-siblings weeks earlier than anticipated.
Mason had planned and paid for the funeral years ago, in case something happened to him, since there was no one else to take care of matters. That made me wonder what else he had planned for, just in case.
Mason came as his Genomex self to the funeral. His appearance was striking and singular, but his children were used to it and he did not care what his father’s former colleagues thought (my grandfather had no friends) and he wanted to intimidate his ex-wife Jackie and her new husband—her fourth (Rebecca’s comment: “That’s more men than I’ve slept with.”), described by Grey and the girls as loud and overbearing. They were glad to be going to college away from home. Peter Winsor had his own brood of children from previous marriages, and did not even feign interest in Jackie’s progeny.
“So, why did your mother marry this character?”
And Grey had told him –there was something about being an Eckhart that made us all blunt-- “Dad, as near as I can figure, and I hate to say this, because she is my mother, but it has everything to do with the size of his checkbook. You should see the house they’re building. It’s vulgarly ostentatious. Deirdre gets the giggles just describing the gold-plated seahorse bathroom fixtures, the Secret Room of Last Resort that everyone knows about, and the wine cellar, and Michelle swears everyone will be handed a map and compass as they come through the front door so they won’t be lost for too long.”
“And a packet of bread crumbs, too? Sounds like Jackie has found someone able to maintain her lifestyle at the level she believed she always deserved. But why is this place so huge?”
“Oh, two of Peter’s kids display the Failure to Launch Syndrome.”
“The what?”
“They don’t-wanna-grow-up, and neither Peter nor their mothers have had much success in convincing them of the Joys of Maturity, so they tend to live at home.”
We made quite an entrance, with Mason’s inevitable GSA bodyguards, armed with heavy heat leading the way. Mason didn’t anticipate an invasion, but he was in the habit of taking the bodyguards everywhere and he knew how much Jackie loathed firearms.
The GSA firepower and the way Mason and Rebecca made no attempt to disguise their arms would have intimidated anyone.
Rebecca wore one of her Sincere Blue suits, one I knew by now was customized to carry everything. Months before she had decided I needed something for Credibility Dressing as well, so she took me to her tailor and had me measured for credibility. Then she got a bolt of the stuff my dad’s suits were made from and had that made up into a short-skirted suit for me, playfully worn with some black lace. I wore this.
Jackie had never seen Mason’s post Incident X dress-for-intimidation and calculate-to-cow wear. Grey and the girls knew what was coming, and showed no reaction at all when we entered but Jackie stared as if an alien had entered the chapel. I had no way of knowing what Peter Winsor expected, but he looked pleasingly startled. I was deeply amused. So was Grey, who like his father could be difficult to read until you knew him. The girls looked ready to explode.
Mason went directly to his three oldest children, and greeted and hugged them each in turn. We were all glad to finally meet one another, and everyone was smiling, except for Jackie and Peter, and the small group of one-time colleagues of Dr Conner Eckhart.
Mason hated his father with no shortage of justifications, and saw no reason to pretend he was saddened by his death. He had told his children the horror stories and we also saw no reason to affect sad faces. Without Dr Eckhart, none of us would exist, but he had made our grandmother Marilyn and father Mason miserable.
I had a chance to look Jackie’s way, and noted her studying Rebecca intently, deeply curious about this brilliant woman who had helped Deirdre save her math grade, gotten Michelle reading history and biography, carried a firearm, but most intriguingly, slept with the now alien-looking Mason and startlingly, had married him.
No one had told Jackie about me, however, so she had no idea who I was until Mason marched us both up to her. Mason began with a lie, and he could be an incredibly good liar.
“You’re looking well, Jackie.”
Except she wasn’t. Naturally a very pretty woman, he hair was short and frosted and upon her the effect was unflattering.
“This is my youngest, Catherine Eckhart,” he began.
I took in the look of surprise on Jackie’s face, as she tried to figure out where the heck I had come from. She had missed something somewhere and did not understand how that had happened.
“and my wife, Dr Rebecca Steyn.”
Rebecca was wearing what she called her best “technical meeting smile”, being politely pleasant to people she would probably never set eyes upon again, and in whom she had little personal investment.
“This is Peter Winsor, Mason. Peter, this is Mason Eckhart, father of my children.”
Mason didn’t give him any chance to escape, but thrust a black-gloved hand Peter’s way in manly greeting. Peter stared briefly at the glove, oddly fitted. It was a warm day.
Now, I knew Mason was inherently frail and serious exercise was impossible because he had no way of cooling himself because of the biopolymer. However, he did trouble to keep his hands very strong, and his handshake generally surprised. This was of course, planned and intentional.
Mason taught me to aggressively press any advantage I had, advice he faithfully followed himself, giving Peter one of the more memorable handshakes of his life, smiling warmly all the while. As I said, he was a good liar.
Rebecca offered her hand as well, being a long-time denizen of the world of business. Peter refused to take her hand. She looked briefly surprised, then turned back towards me. That’s when Peter spotted her automatic. His eyes went wide, and if he hadn’t had any regrets about his lapse in manners, he did now. Mason witnessed none of this; if he had, he would have tossed Peter a shark-eye glare and make him wonder just what kind of tribe these Eckharts were.
Mason looked about the room. “Well, I cannot imagine anyone else showing up for this, so I’ll get started.”
Afterwards, Mason admitted to me that he had his father’s ‘eulogy’ written years ago, and that it had just been fine-tuned over the years. He took his place at the lectern.
“My name is Mason Eckhart. I am Dr Conner Eckhart’s only surviving offspring.
Culturally, we are discouraged from speaking ill of the dead, but in the case of my father there is little else to speak of.
I’m not Dr Eckhart’s only child. I had a twin named Marcus Aaron. When I was eight years old, I watched my father stand by and do nothing while Marc drowned. My father had a fast boat and he was a good, strong swimmer. Marc did not need to die. To this day I have no idea why he was allowed to die. If you’re going to pray for the dead, pray for my brother Marc who never had a chance to grow up and become a good man.
While remembering the dead, spare a moment for my mother Marilyn Eckhart. I wish she had had the personal courage to pack up Marc and me when we were small boys and run away as fast and as far away from my father as we could, because it was obvious Dr Eckhart wasn’t good for any of us. Unfortunately, my mother was weak and she stayed.
One day when I was 12, I came home from school and found her body. She died from what was ruled a self-induced overdose, but there is no question in my mind who prompted that overdose.
There are likely people present shocked and outraged that a son would speak so of a father. Pretending that my father was other than cruel and crazy will not undo the harm he caused while he lived.
However, I do wish to thank my father for one great gift, making me think carefully about what a father should be. I want my four children to learn the correct lesson from this day, without requiring the pain I endured, and that they teach their children the same lesson.
If Dr Eckhart had been a more ordinary father, surely I would have been a more ordinary parent myself.
Extreme, debilitating health problems kept me separated from my children. The conviction they needed me was the only motivation that kept me alive during the first terrible years after the unethical application of advanced biotechnology that destroyed my immune system. Nevertheless, I maintained close and active involvement in their lives by way of computers, email and webcams.
This may sound cold or strange to some, but I managed daily, lengthy contact with my far-away children. Unlike the children of many men who have worked for me, Grey, Deirdre, Michelle, and Catherine unshakeably know they mean more to me than my golf game, my cars, my toys, or my job. They know my mind and my heart, and I know theirs. We are not strangers to one another.
So, some good came of Dr Eckhart’s life, but in a convoluted fashion, and at too high a cost.”
“Did you know he was going to do this?” I whispered to Rebecca.
She nodded. “I helped him write it. These things desperately needed saying out loud.”
By the time Mason returned to us, I was in tears. Before he could sit down, I rose from my chair and hugged him.
When he sat down, Rebecca took up his gloved hand and squeezed it.
I looked toward Grey. He had known what was coming, but he had not read the text. He saw me, and smiled. Grey was quietly, fiercely proud of his father.
Jackie was horrified. I’m not sure if she had ever actually met Dr Eckhart, who had next to nothing to do with Mason from the time of his mother’s suicide, but appearances were important to her. Perhaps even now she was agonizing over what Peter Winsor would think of her once-upon-a-time marrying and having children with a physical oddity (Peter had no way of knowing the ‘timing’ of Mason’s ‘look’. For all he was informed, Mason might have been born with white hair.) and blasphemous hellspawn.
Afterwards, on the flight home, Mason told us about the private, separate conversations he’d had with Jackie and Peter.
“Mason, I hope you haven’t ruined what time I have left of my life.”
Jackie was in fact, a few years younger than Rebecca.
“What do you mean by ‘time left’? Do you have some sort of terminal illness?” Of course, she did not, and Mason knew it, but this was her way of heightening the drama of the moment.
“I’m perfectly fine, but I’m getting old.”
“It happens, Jackie. Is this your way of saying that if Peter slips your leash, you believe you won’t be able to bag another with pockets so deep?”
I could almost see the way Mason must have smirked at her as he related this conversation.
“You’ve always thought you were so clever with words!”
“Well, I am. And your point?”
“Try to understand what I’m up against.”
“Improving your standard of living by way of the men you sleep with? I am familiar with that practice of yours.”
“You really said that to her, Mason?” Rebecca asked.
“Yes.”
“She deserved it, but hmm, that’s rough.” Rebecca rolled her eyes at him.
“Well, she went from me to Adam to Frank. Frank was a decent enough fellow who was good to my kids, but he liked to drive fast, and that killed him. He was a smart guy, but he thought the laws of physics didn’t apply to him. He thought it was funny that he was once given a speeding ticket in the boondocks of Indiana by a state cop who dropped out of the sky in a helicopter.”
“He was given a speeding ticket by Airwolf?” Rebecca asked.
“Something like that. Poor Frank hadn’t been planted long in the ground when Jackie began setting snares for Bob, who had a good income but turned out to be a genuine pervert. Jackie turned even that to her advantage, getting a plump settlement from Bob in return for her silence.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Grey told me. During one of their moves he had access to files marked ‘Bob’, so he skimmed through them until he found the interesting material.”
“God’s teeth,” Rebecca said. “That sounds so hauntingly familiar. Did you encourage Grey to go on this treasure hunt?”
“I did not! I did not suggest or hint. He thought of it by himself, and took the initiative.” Mason smiled, proud of Grey.
“Blood will tell.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. I giggled.
“And then after Bob the Profoundly Peculiar, Jackie dropped a net over Peter, who may not be so bad after all, even if he did want gold-plated seahorse bathroom fixtures in seven bathrooms.”
“Only seven?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, there will be eight bathrooms, but no seahorses for the live-in maid.”
“Alas,” Rebecca sighed.
“Yes. But to return to Peter, he came up to me and said he admired my honesty in speaking of a destructive parent. He didn’t offer much and I did not pry, but he said his father was a very successful builder who privately beat his mother and left his kids confused and abused emotionally. They still get together and pretend to be a big happy clan every Christmas for the sake of the grandchildren. Peter’s been wanting to tell his father off for decades.”
“Wow,” I said.
“I’m going to have to tell Grey that Peter deserves more respect than we’ve been giving him, despite the absurd seahorses.”
Rebecca pointed to the Wal-Mart bag containing bottles of water, and a steel can holding Dr Eckhart’s ashes. “What are you going to do with your father’s ashes?”
“Someday, when I build a house without gold-plated seahorse fixtures…”
“But what if I want gold-plated seahorse fixtures in every bathroom?” Rebecca interrupted.
“You would just have to go. But to return to the fate of my father’s ashes…when the concrete is mixed for the foundation, I’ll insist upon tossing in the ashes. That way, he’ll finally be involved in something constructive.”
As I said, not all was sweetness, joy, and light.
While dealing with some particularly troublesome homework, I went looking for Rebecca. She wasn’t in her labs. One of her technicians said she was outside, walking by the lake to sort out a problem.
“You’re lucky to find her onsite at all. She’s been gone most of the afternoon at the dentist.”
Taking a walk by the water was not unusual. Rebecca insisted she got her best ideas while walking through the building or around the property.
She wasn’t walking when I found her. She was nearly hidden from view, sitting beside the stream that flowed through the property, seated on a clump of weeds in a skirt.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes, Catherine.” She did not turn to face me, which was odd, and she sounded upset.
I walked around to face her. She had her head lowered, but I could see she was crying. Rebecca was so strong. I could not imagine what could make this tough woman go off and cry by herself.
“One of your technicians told me you just got back from the dentist.”
“I lied. I was seeing a doctor. A specialist. I did not want to crank up the company rumor mill. For a little while, Catherine, for a very little while, I was carrying a pair of your siblings.”
“But Mason’s sterile.”
“No. That hasn’t been true for a while. Just as he hasn’t required blood transfusions with the same frequency as he did initially or just a few years ago, he isn’t sterile anymore, either. As late as five or six years ago, my presence in his quarters would have killed him, but no more. He’ll never be ‘normal’, he’ll always be physically frail and immunologically vulnerable, but he is considerably more whole than anyone could have imagined in 1991.”
“What happened?” Even as I said it, I realized how graceless and cold it might have sounded.
“My doctor doesn’t know. I didn’t even find out what they were, which somehow makes it worse.”
“Does Mason know?”
She shook her head. “I was going to tell him when I knew what they were. Now, I don’t think I should tell him anything. He’s lost enough. But, that’s wishful thinking, isn’t it? He’ll know something isn’t right.”
“Yeah.”
“The trouble is, this is not the first time. When Ashlocke and Harrison took over this place and put Mason into stasis, I was pregnant and didn’t have any idea. I had not considered the possibility because I did not think it was possible. Ashlocke crawled into my head, and he knew. He was a cruel, insane creature. He mocked me, and then did something to make me lose my son, my Greylet. Then he told Mason what he was doing.”
Greylet?
Creature? Had she forgotten what I was? Did she think I was a creature?
“Why did you call him creature?”
“Because he was crazy and cruel and didn’t think of himself as human. Breedlove should have put him down the way he did his insect/human chimaeras. Ashlocke was nothing like you or Emma or Jesse, Catherine. You must not believe you share any kinship with him.”
She had answered all of my questions.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca. If I could make it even a little better, I would.”
“I know. Sometimes, I curse myself for not having the strength to keep my distance from people. I used to go for years without ever crying, without ever hurting like this.”
“Would you ever want to live that way again?”
“Sometimes. Now. I never agreed to save everyone but myself, and that’s exactly what’s been going on.”
“But we love you, Rebecca. You’ve been so kind to me and taught me so much.”
“I have no desire to hurt you or anyone, Catherine, but when you’ve been damaged as much as I have, you will never be quite right again. I want my own pain to stop. That might mean going to work someplace where nobody knows me, and limiting my universe to my job and my toys.”
“That sounds crazy.”
“Yes. But only a woman who was at least a little crazy would have discerned the human being your father kept so well hidden for so long.”
“Aren’t you afraid of being alone? Most people seem that way.”
“No. I’ve been alone nearly all of my life. That is my normal state.”
“But you were married before.”
“I was never more alone than when I was with Jeffrey. Recent years have been the aberration. There are worse things than being alone, Catherine.”
“I think you’re just really depressed because of some really bad news. I don’t think you believe half of what you’re saying.”
“Certainly, I don’t want to believe.”
Mason’s telescope on the rooftop was one of the better-kept secrets of Genomex. He had few expenses, so when he bought this system, he acquired a very good one. The Genomex location was blessed with relatively clean air and frequent nights of “good seeing”. I hated to admit it to him, but previously I paid little attention to the sky beyond noting that things rose in the east and set in the west.
Mason taught me the names of all the first-magnitude stars and the readily identifiable northern hemisphere constellations. He showed me the phases of Venus, the major moons of Jupiter, and Mars, which intrigued him –and Rebecca-- most of all.
Sometimes Rebecca was with us, sometimes not. One night the three of us were on the roof watching a meteor shower during a fortuitously moonless night. I was astonished to learn she knew everything Mason had been teaching me.
“Where did you learn all of this?”
“I taught myself when I was a kid. I’ve always been interested in this kind of thing.”
“It’s pretty to look at, but what use is it?”
“Uses? Plenty. You can find your way by the stars. They give you perspective on our place in the universe, which is small.”
“She’s right,” Mason said, and laughed.
“And where did you learn this stuff?”
“I’m a self-taught kid, too.”
“I’ll have to show you some papers on terraforming Mars. There are people giving serious thought to the subject.”
I couldn’t see her face in the dark, but I could tell from her voice she was serious about terraforming Mars. She was a member of something called The Mars Society.
I had never known adults who delighted in this kind of thing.
I had taken a nap earlier, anticipating the late hours, but I was still exhausted, and ready to sleep for what remained of the night.
Mason heard it first.
“Gas turbine engines. Not moving. Hovering.”
“Adam?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t have any friends with Harriers,” he replied.
Even in stealth mode, the heat of the engine exhaust caused visual changes. “There,” Rebecca said, pointing out distorted starlight.
“Yes. I hope he has enough sense to put that thing down on a section of roof capable of bearing the weight.”
“Details, details, details. When has the Prince of Genomex ever sweated details? If the exhaust melts the asphalt on the roof, he might just find his Flying Sow glued to the surface when he tries to leave.”
“Flying Sow?” I asked.
“It does look like one—when you can see it,” Mason answered. “I wonder what Adam thinks he’s doing?”
“He’s re-stocking,” I said. “Anything he’d need is already here.”
“That sounds Adamesque. I wonder if he’s been brazen enough to return to Sanctuary?”
The Flying Sow touched down 75 meters away.
“Well, enough of this,” Mason said. As always, he was armed, and as I knew now, anytime he or Rebecca removed their automatics from their holsters anywhere other than the GSA range, an alarm was triggered, summoning GSA to their location.
We were standing in deep shadow, but Mason directed us to stand behind one of the air intakes. We could defend ourselves, but we did not know how large of a group Adam had brought. The GSA was heavily armed, ready for anything.
I could hear Adam. In my head. Reflexively, I put my hands over my ears, as if that would help.
“Adam. He’s in my head. Again.” I was whispering.
“Devil.”
*You’re awake awfully late, Catherine. Just what kind of parent is Mason, anyway?*
*What do you want, Adam?*
*I just thought I’d say hello since I’m back in town. I thought I’d ask how you’re doing with your new ‘family’.*
*We’re fine.*
The night was quiet. I could hear Adam and Brennan walking on the gravel-covered rooftop, making no attempt to move quietly, searching for the stairwell that would bring them closest to the labs, which of course brought them towards us.
*Fine, huh? Is Mason attempting to civilize you?*
*Well, he’s not using me to steal supplies for him.*
Adam laughed. I could hear his sarcastic laughter floating through the ether, in my head, and echoing over the rooftop.
“What’s so funny, Adam?” I heard Brennan ask.
“The next time we do this, we’re going to park closer.”
Next time?
*Funny you should mention supplies, Catherine.*
*And why is that, Adam?*
*Brennan doesn’t know it, but he’s showing signs of degeneration. I need some specialized materials to help him.*
*Too bad Brennan was never mainstreamed. The mutants who have come out of hiding can get treatment at the hospital Genomex operates. I’ll bet they’ve developed treatments you’ve never thought of, Adam. One man cannot think of everything.*
*Mainstream. Yeah.*
*It’s genuine. I’ve talked to a lot of these people.*
*It has to be a trick.*
*Just because you say so? I haven’t seen any proof of your claims. In science, you are supposed to offer solid proofs, aren’t you?*
*You’ve been talking to that damn Rebecca.*
*She’s been tutoring me in math and chemistry.*
*Math and chemistry? What would Danielle think of her lovely daughter studying such subjects and straining her brain?*
*Adam, why does it take people so long to realize what a miserable man you are? I know my mother wasn’t perfect. It may surprise you to learn that Rebecca thinks I’m good at math; I just haven’t been taught well in the past.*
*Rebecca is such a loser. Can’t you see that?*
*Why? Because she rejected you? Because she’s helping me develop abilities I didn’t think I had? Because she sleeps with Mason?*
*Mostly the latter.*
*Well, she has taste and standards.*
All of this exchanged occurred faster than speech, as fast as thought. Armed GSA paramilitary guards emerged from two stairwells simultaneously. Adam and Brennan ran back through the darkness.
*Gotta go, kid*
*What’s happening?*
*I had dropped by your home for a personal visit, but Mason has become even more wary. I can’t believe he anticipated me, but he has. We’ll just have to talk later.*
Let him believe Mason anticipated a rooftop invasion.
I had developed a headache from the exchange with Adam. Mason’s men couldn’t bring down The Flying Sow with bullets, but they could cause damage Adam would have difficulty repairing properly. I held my arms about my head in the darkness. Only Rebecca was with me; Mason was with his guards. I heard her secure her automatic.
“Catherine?” Rebecca asked.
“Adam…was back in my head, which now hurts.”
I couldn’t see her face so I knew she couldn’t see mine.
“Can it wait until Emma gets here in a few hours, or shall I call her?”
“Let me try aspirin first. I’m scared, Rebecca.”
“So am I. I don’t care for the way Adam just drops in when he feels like it.”
“He came to pilfer lab supplies. He told me.”
“The roof will need to be watched.”
“He was very insulting. I don’t understand how anyone likes him.”
“Adam is a charmer. People tend to cut charmers an outrageous amount of slack.”
I hugged Rebecca. “He said nasty things about you, too.”
“It’s been a long time since I gave much thought to what Adam thought of me.”
“I know, but his sarcasm still surprises me.”
Mason returned to us. “We might have put some holes in the Sow.”
“Preferably through the control cables and fuel tanks. He’s back in Catherine’s head. He told her he was here to steal supplies.”
“He’s desperate.”
“Or foolish.”
“Most likely both. It’s one thing to come after me, but another to tamper with my kindred.”
“If he’s gotten back inside Sanctuary, there isn’t much to be done about it.”
“No, but if that’s true, he’ll soon discover Sanctuary isn’t the same place he abandoned.”
Emma and Jesse lived in the neighborhood, so it was an easy matter for me to walk to their house and be inculcated into the deeper mysteries of geekiness.
I was comfortable using computers, but they were mostly mysterious black boxes to me. Jesse patiently changed all of that. In short order, Jesse had me assembling computers from individual components to get past the magic black box mentality. I never looked back from there.
I spent a lot of time with Emma as well. The airy-fairy aspects of her personality were much muted, but she grew all kinds of plants in their sunny yard, especially herbs.
She was becoming an accomplished cook, a vanishing art, which she shared and taught me, along with how to grow things.
I walked home to Genomex without any fear, so I was stunned when someone called out my name from behind. By the time I had turned about completely, I had recognized the voice as Brennan’s.
I was annoyed. By running me down in such fashion, it was certain Adam or Brennan or both of them had been watching me with some care and I did not like that.
“What do you want, Brennan? The loose change in my pockets?”
He smiled a foolish grin which I suppose was intended to be so charming and disarming that I would 1) hand over my change and 2) do or tell Brennan whatever he had come for.
“Adam wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to him. I’m done with Adam. If you had any sense, you would be, too.”
“That’s cold.”
He caught up with me. I activated a pager-like device, summoning GSA from Genomex and Jesse and Emma from their house. I wasn’t taking any chances with Adam or Brennan, not after their attempt to invade Genomex a few days before.
“What could Adam possibly want from me?”
“He wants you to come back and live with us.”
“Adam wants my pocket change, too? Lean times on board the Flying Sow?”
“Flying Sow? That’s cruel.”
“Nowhere near as cruel as Adam’s little video message to my father announcing my paternity, or any number of things Adam has done. I don’t like Adam, Brennan. I don’t care for the way he lies to people and manipulates them. And I really don’t like what he did to my father in 1991.”
“Eckhart’s gotten to you.” Brennan looked very grave, as if he had made a comment of rare and striking insight. I knew he was merely parroting Adam.
“Go finish the comment. Say something about how Eckhart’s suborned me, just the way Adam would say.”
“Well, isn’t that exactly what’s been done to you? You hated Eckhart just like we did, and now, you don’t”
“Grow up, Brennan. Mason’s been good to me, and a lot of other people. He treats me as his daughter. If Adam’s intention was to embarrass Mason by dumping wrong-side-of-the-blanket Catherine into his life, it has not worked. Open your eyes. Living here has been a positive thing for me. I’m not going to throw that away because Adam’s running out of mutants upon which to build his silly empire.”
I stopped, turned, and looked Brennan in the eye. “Tell your keeper I want to be left alone. I’m done playing with you losers.”
“Not good enough.” Brennan lunged for me. They were probably planning to grab me to coerce Mason into doing something dreadful.
Unfortunately, my governor would not be removed until 1 November.
I tossed the contents of my bottled water onto Brennan, which would affect his ability to throw lightning for a little while. I turned and ran back towards Emma and Jesse’s house. By running back the way I had come, I was hoping I would avoid Adam, whom I was hoping was closer to Genomex, waiting to seize me if Brennan failed.
The water would distract Brennan for only a few moments, and then he’d be after me taking one stride to two of mine. I could not outrun him for long. So, I started screaming at all the people outside in their yards, busy raking leaves, telling them to call the police.
I could hear Brennan closing in, and when I knew I couldn’t outrun him any farther, I ran into the front yard with a couple collecting leaves from a huge sugar maple. I dropped down to the grass, and clasped my arms around a sapling. If Brennan was going to carry me off, he was going to have to work hard, and I knew Brennan was lazier than ever.
“Call the police! This creep is trying to grab me!”
Brennan hesitate for a moment before setting foot on their property, then he smiled his Winning Smile at the woman. “My sister hasn’t been taking her meds.”
“Adam must have made that up for you. You’re nowhere near clever enough to think of something like that.”
“I think we’ll let the police sort this out,” the woman said dryly. Brennan’s winning smile did not work miracles when he looked as scruffy and disreputable as he did at present. He looked like what he was, a street thug. She pulled a cordless phone out of a basket of gardening tools and began punching numbers.
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need for police, Catherine. I really need to get you home. Shouldn’t make such a fool of yourself.”
Jesse came driving down one end of the street, and every black SUV leased by the GSA came flying down the other. But Brennan was facing away from the street, and saw neither approach. He was focused only upon me.
Jesse stepped out of his car, and was recognized by the GSA in the first car. Jesse pointed to Brennan. Two of the biggest GSA I’d ever seen ran out of the third car, and grabbed each of Brennan’s arms.
“Anybody have an implanter with them?” Jesse asked.
“Traitor,” Brennan sneered.
Jesse ignored him.
By now I was sitting up in the grass. “Brennan, you are such a creep. And you are so stupid to do as Adam says. He’s been using you all along.”
The agents dragged him back to the first SUV, mostly so the civilians would not get a good look at the implanting. My father drove up just as the deed was done, and moments before the first of a fleet of patrol cars screamed up the street.
“Catherine, did he harm you?”
“He tried. I think Adam’s around here somewhere, too.”
Mason reached down with his right hand to help me stand.
“Thanks. These good people called the police.”
Mason turned to them. “Thank you very much.”
The woman smiled. “I’ve seen the girl walking in the neighborhood several times. That guy who went after her doesn’t belong around here and he certainly isn’t her brother.”
“No, indeed. He has an extensive criminal record.” Mason turned to one of the Gs agents. “Start looking for Adam. Quickly. Search for the heat signature of the Flying Sow. If he isn’t on board, he has to return to it in order to escape.”
Mason and his lieutenants showed the police their identification, and presented them with Brennan. “This is Brennan Mulwray, street thug and out of control criminal mutant. He tried to kidnap my daughter. Dozens of citizens on this street saw her trying to get away from him. I’ve dealt with Mulwray in the past. I think you’ll find a close look at Mr Mulwray’s record rewarding.”
One of the officers took a good look at Brennan. “You look an awful lot like the Nutty Bar Bandit who’s been hitting Ed’s Buy and Fly convenience store near Genomex.”
“Mr Mulwray is infamous for his fondness for Nutty Bars,” Mason said, making eye contact with Brennan’s dark, angry, stupid eyes.
A quick search of Brennan’s pockets revealed a quantity of Little Debbie Nutty Bars.
“Well, Nutty Bars are just the latest of his thefts. Brennan Mulwray has been a one-man crime wave most of his life. You may also want to check out his collection of antique Camaros. I suspect most of them are hot. Jesse, could you give the officer general directions to where we think those Camaros now are?”
‘Yes. Gladly.”
Brennan shot Jesse a nasty look in response to what he must have considered the ultimate betrayal. The aging Camaro fleet would be dispersed and returned to their legal owners, or in many cases, sold for scrap.
Did Brennan expect Jesse to do otherwise? I had heard the stories from Emma and Jesse how Brennan’s joining Mutant X had reduced Jesse to taken-for-granted technogeek, with Adam favoring Brennan as a leader despite his tendency to ignore instructions and the overall goal.
Jesse was good enough to keep the Flying Sow safely airborne, but not good enough for Adam to take seriously. Brennan should not have been shocked by Jesse’s willingness to direct police to the Camaro herd. Besides, by the time Brennan was done with trials in various jurisdictions and serving time for robbery and theft, those Camaros would have been largely reduced to rust dust and trees would be growing up through the rotten floors.
I liked that last mental image a lot. I turned back to Brennan, whose face revealed deepening rage. I was thankful for Adam’s inventions of subdermal governors.
Mason and I went to the district station to formally press charges.
I was uncomfortable at first, remembering my last contact with police, but the experience soon became enjoyable as Brennan’s past life was revealed.
Two days before Thanksgiving, I was intently reading Mordecai Roshwald’s Level Seven, a classic of the Cold War, when I was distracted by a buzzing in my head.
Oh, no.
Unfortunately, the buzzing quickly ceased and Adam opened a clear channel into my mind.
*Catherine.*
*Lonely now without even Brennan to talk to?*
*That’s cold, Catherine. Is this how you treat all of your old friends?*
*Adam, you don’t have any idea what friendship means. What would my mother think of your sending a thug to grab me off a residential street?*
*I was just trying to bring you home, Catherine. Your mother would approve, I’m certain.*
*Nonsence. You abandoned me to the GSA and made sure Mason knew about me. What you did not anticipate was the way he accepted me and made me part of his family.*
*That did surprise me.*
*Adam, just leave me alone. I’m getting ready for Thanksgiving.*
*How homey.*
*Yes. We’re celebrating as a family.*
Adam laughed.
*What’s so funny?*
*Mason putting a family together at this late hour in his life.*
*Emotionally, it’s a lot healthier than going about trying to scare people into leaving their homes, jobs, pets, and everything else, because of a threat you imagine and cannot begin to prove.*
*It’ll happen.*
*Oh, yeah. Mason hates all mutants, even the one with his name. Yes, Adam, I’m legally Catherine Eckhart now. And he’s going to round us all up and do unspeakable things to us, including me. I believe that.*
*It’s all going to happen. Believe me. Come with me and help me rebuild Mutant X before the catastrophe begins.*
*NO, Adam.*
Each time Adam invaded me, Emma closed down the open links, leaving only the weakest paths open to him. He had successively less control over me heart and breathing, and hence, less coercive power. I don’t think he knew this.
After Adam left me this time, I was able to write down what he said, freely and completely. Adam’s control was nearly gone.
I took the written account to Mason. “I cannot say this out loud, but I could write it down for you.”
“How did he sound, Catherine?”
“Desperate. I’m not sure he’s thinking clearly.”
“I’d like you to stay within these walls for a few days, Catherine.”
“I was looking forward to greeting Grey and the girls at the airport.”
“I understand. But Adam is behaving badly, he has no allies left to him, and I want to make the most of that inclination. It’s just for a few days.”
“Makes sense. Could you ask Emma to please come and snip these fresh connections?”
When Thanksgiving came, it was more of a reunion that anything else. Meeting my brother and sisters dispelled the tension of the day, and I was able to enjoy it rather than worry over it.
Nearly everyone I wanted to see was able to come, even Shalimar. Samihah Shah brought her four boys.
How Rebecca persuaded Mason to wear something other than black I do not know, but she got him to wear a dark blue turtleneck sweater for the day. She was quite proud of this, pointing it out to everyone.
“Mason, is that really yours, or did you borrow that sweater from your son?” Jesse was being playful.
“It’s really mine.”
“I think this is a first,” Emma said.
“Just hope it’s not the last. Next year, he’ll have to be even more daring.” Rebecca smiled.
We had all seated ourselves around the three of the long tables arranged in a horseshoe when the main door opened, and in walked Adam. Almost everyone present knew who he was, except Samihah’s boys, Deirdre, and Michelle. Grey recognized him; I could see that in his face.
Adam looked surprised, and then I realized why. He had expected to find the three of us, not this gathering, and certainly not Emma, Jesse, and Shalimar.
Mason sat very still, eyes not leaving Adam as he approached.
Shalimar set a drumstick back onto her plate. One should never disturb kitty while she is eating, and so it was with Shalimar. She flashed her feral eyes at Adam. Shalimar remained angry over the accumulated lies Adam told her over a period of more than ten years. She was ready to launch herself at him over the tabletop.
Emma and Jesse looked none too pleased, either. Emma placed her right hand atop Shalimar’s left, indicating restraint.
“Adam, to what do we owe this honor? Come to cause trouble, or just offer holiday well-wishes?”
Adam snickered. “This looks so Norman Rockwell, Mason. I never would have imagined you part of something like this.”
“Really? My memories of the more distant past include you seated at my holiday table several times, since you had nowhere else to go. You still don’t, do you?”
Adam didn’t know quite what to say to that, since it was wholly true. Adam generally could be stopped cold by the truth, if only for a short while.
“I remember you at Christmas dinner a long time ago, Adam, when we still lived on Hollyhock Drive.”
Adam did not recognize Grey immediately, but he figured things out quickly enough.
“Grey Eckhart.”
“I told you he wasn’t a little boy anymore. It’s later than you believe.”
“Quite an odd little family you’ve cobbled together, Mason.”
“Are you jealous, Adam? Your cult family is gone. Even your former follower Brennan Mulwray is enjoying a jailhouse version of the traditional feast. Behave yourself, pull up a chair and we’ll set another place. Or leave my kith and kin in peace. Now.”
“You’re inviting me to dinner?”
“I’m very civilized.”
“I think I’ll decline.”
“Well, then, it’s one thing to invade Genomex and aggravate me, but another to show up here and annoy my friends and family. Time for you to exit, Adam.”
Adam turned to me. “Time to go, Catherine.” He smiled. He was convinced he was in control and was going to get his way.
I could hear him audibly, and inside of my head, persuasion I was finding impossible to ignore. I had to summon all the will in me to stay in my chair. I turned to Emma.
“I know what you’re doing, Adam, and I won’t allow it.” Emma sounded resolute.
“As much as anyone, you should know Emma is not bluffing,” Mason said calmly.
“Not only can I stop you, Adam, but at this close range, I now know how to permanently disable the links you’ve affixed to Catherine. You won’t be bothering her again.”
“Miserable traitor.”
Mason answered. “No, Adam. You’re the traitor. You’ve betrayed your friends, your talents, and humanity. But now, that’s all over. I think you are going to regret not partaking a final civilized meal in pleasant company.”
Adam knew then he’d made a serious mistake. He turned and walked briskly for the door, but he must have known he’s never leave the building.
Mason watched him leave until he passed back through the doors.
“How did you convince so many GSA to work Thanksgiving?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, I only asked the single ones.”
“Some of those guys are married?” I asked.
“To women?” Rebecca asked.
“Of course. Simply because a fellow has a grim, humorless work persona does not mean he lacks the potential of being someone else in his personal life. You two should know all about that.”
“I always imagined you maintained dormitories or boarding houses for those guys.”
“Well, I may, but all of the guys who worked today are getting the same feast I had catered here, as soon as they complete locking up Adam three levels down. Doesn’t that have a comforting sound to it? Locking up Adam. And tomorrow, I have the pleasure of having him charged.
“For creating mutants unethically?”
“Embezzlement. Adam made a fortune in the stock market in the 1990s, but he started with money stolen from Genomex. Jesse’s spent months unraveling the old encrypted Genomex records.” Mason raised his wine glass to Jesse. “Now the legal staff can put them to good use. I’m going to have a good dinner.”
“Would you really have allowed Adam to sit down at table with us?” Rebecca asked.
Mason smirked. “Androids don’t eat.”
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Part 1
Part 2
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