It was then that Kathy Johnson called.
She didn't exactly sweep into his life like a savior. First,
he had to fly out to California to see her. Second, she was taking enough prescription pills to make him look like a mineral-water freak. She had moved out of her parents' house and lost her job and thrown away all her money and ... He knew the routine. He hadn't realized she had been so attached to Gary. She'd only spent a day with him, as far as he could tell. But he didn't try to convince her Gary was a jerk. He'd always liked Gary, and besides, he wasn't after Kathy for himself. He didn't even know what he was doing in California. He sure wasn't enjoying the sunshine. Yet when he heard Kathy's voice on the phone, he wanted to see her. He was of course drunk at the time. Still, he felt she would be someone he could talk to. She met him at the airport; she ran her car into a telephone pole on the way home to her apartment. Neither of them was hurt, but when the police arrived at the scene of the accident, he had to hide the little yellow and red pills that had popped out of her bag in the collision.
They slept together the first night. They kept their clothes on and tried to keep their eyes open. He discovered he wasn't the only one who'd been having nightmares. They discussed what it would feel like to swallow a handful of pills all at once. Then she started crying and shaking, and he fell asleep and snored. They made a great couple, Kathy and him.
Things improved, though, the next day. They went to the beach and fed the birds. They played volleyball on the sand against two blond high school students, Stacy and Barney. They got their asses whipped, but it was fun. Kathy threw away her pills, and he vowed to cut down on his drinking. They scored some coke that night to celebrate their new beginning. They woke up the next morning with their clothes off, wondering if they had called each other by the wrong names during the night. They had an affair. It lasted two weeks. But it was with the memory of Lauren and Gary as much as with each other. It was not sick, though. It kept them from killing themselves, for a while.
Terry still didn't know why he left Kathy and returned to Houston. He supposed it was because Houston was his home and she didn't want to leave Los Angeles. He should have stayed. He missed her. He called her every day until he ran out of money to pay the telephone bills. She missed him, too, but she began to put her life back together quicker than he. She didn't renew her prescriptions, but he returned to visiting the bar on the corner. She got a job in a doctor's office from an ad in the paper. He accidentally shorted out his word processor when he spilled a TV dinner on the keyboard. It was all right, though. His affair with Kathy had taught him that he could care about someone again. It was perfectly all right when she called him and told him about her new boyfriend. He cared for her, but he wasn't in love with her. His love was dead.
He continued to have terrible nightmares. They reminded him of Jennifer's. Monsters, Martians - they clawed through his dreams. He could hardly remember them in the morning, but he remembered enough to know they were mean bastards.
He'd just begun to acquire a taste for Scotch when he vomited up the blood. His surgeon visited him the day after the operation and told him he was a sick man. The surgeon asked if he wanted to live. Terry told him he had to think about it. He did want another shot of morphine, though. The surgeon shook his head and told him about spirulina, bee pollen, and aloe vera juice. Spirulina was a blue-green algae that tasted like moldy fungus. Bee pollen was what the bees got high on. Wrinkled women rubbed aloe vera juice on their bodies. His surgeon wanted Terry to take all three daily and enjoy them. He called them the three
wonders of nature. He had a remarkably natural point of view for someone who made his living with a knife. He even had an ounce of spirulina powder with him. Terry spat it out when he tried it. His surgeon wasn't offended. He patted Terry on the back and told him to try it with brewer's yeast in a glass of carrot juice.
It was while recuperating in the hospital that Terry got the idea for Whisper of Pain. He wondered if Kathy's twin sister Lorraine had inspired the story. He hadn't seen Lorraine while he was in Los Angeles, but Kathy had talked enough about her. The excitement of the new book did something for him that even a beautiful California girl had failed to do. This time he did stop drinking. Once out of the hospital, he took spirulina with his morning yogurt - if he was awake - bee pollen with his evening TV dinner, and aloe vera juice all by itself before he retired for the night. The surgeon knew a thing or two about nutrition. Terry healed quickly from the surgery. He wrote at least five pages a day, took an hour's walk each evening, and never looked at a fucking newspaper. He answered all his fan mail that didn't ask about Lauren. He remained hopelessly in debt.
The phone rang beside Terry just as he began to write. It was Tom Brenner, his old partner at the paper. Tom had called him off and on during the last two years, mainly to see that he was still alive, and once to ask if he could have Kathy's phone number.
'Terry! How're you doing? How's the book coming?'
'We both need editing, but we're both great. How are you? Kathy still doesn't want to talk to you.'
'That's not why I called.'
'Hey,' Terry said. 'I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm glad you called. You want to go to the Oilers game this Sunday with me? I've got tickets.'
'No. I hate football. You hate football. Who gave you the tickets?'
'I won them by calling in on the radio in the middle of the night.' · 'Why are you doing shit like that?' Tom asked.
'I don't know. It gives me someone to talk to when it's late.'
Tom paused. His tone changed. 'How are you, buddy?'
Terry forced a chuckle. It still hurt. He knew it always would. 'I'm great, really. Don't worry about me. I hardly think about it anymore. I just write, you know. I think the book's going to have a happy ending.'
'I guess you're wondering why I called.'
'Not really.'
Tom hesitated. 'You might have to start thinking about her again.'
Terry's heart pounded. 'I don't understand.'
Tom took a breath. 'I was at NASA last night. The boss wanted me to do a bit on Project Nova. You know, the date of their scheduled return is coming up. I didn't want to do it, but what the hell, we've got to sell papers. Anyway, I was at Mission Control, soaking up a few sad comments to use in my article when I ran into this guy from Hawaii. It turns out he's an important astronomer. You know they've got all those telescopes in Hawaii up on some volcano. Well, I got to talking with him, and I noticed he was busting with excitement. I figured he might know something. 1 invited him out for a drink. I told him that I was you, and that I had lost my girlfriend when the Hawk smashed into the Nova. I'm not sure why I did that. The lie just came out. I guess I wanted his sympathy so he'd tell me what he knew. I even shed a tear or two. I hope you don't mind.'
'No,' Terry said softly. 'What did he know?'
'Like I said, he's an astronomer. Two days ago he
discovered an unusual streak on one of his photographic plates. At first it appeared to be an asteroid, but it wasn't in the book. He took more pictures and discovered that, whatever it was, it was heading straight for the Earth. He* told his partners and they put the observatory's biggest telescopes on it.'
'How big is the object?' Terry asked.
'They're not sure. But this guy thought it was small and bright and made of metal. He told me all this because I got him half drunk and he was thinking I was about to commit suicide because of my poor dead fiancée. He wasn't bullshitting me. He was trying to give me hope.'
'You're sure he was who he said he was?'
'I saw his I.D. and checked him out afterwards. No doubt about that.'
'Are you sure an asteroid's out of the question?' Terry asked.
'Let's just say it picked a smart time to show up for a stupid rock.'
'How long till it gets here?'
'Seven days,' Tom said.
'No radio contact?'
'I wish I could come right out and say it, buddy. But I could
be wrong. All they've got right now is a streak on a photographic plate. Another three days, though, and they'll know if it's the Nova.'
'But it blew up,' Terry said. 'We saw it. The experts said the ships definitely collided.'
'No one's an expert, Terry, in anything. We're just going to have to wait and see.' He added, 'I thought I should tell you. I'd want to know.'
'I'm glad you did,' Terry said, lying. He knew one thing for sure already. If a few days from now his hope was crushed, he would go back to drinking.
THIRTY-SIX
A month later Terry pulled his rental car into the parking lot at Edwards Air Force Base in California and climbed out into a sun that was so bright it cast red-rimmed shadows. He stared uneasily at the drab three-story complex at the end of the parking lot where Lauren and Gary were supposedly staying. He stood without moving and let the sweat soak his shirt. Three weeks had passed since the Nova had rendezvoused with Space Station One, and the world had mourned the mission's disasters, and cheered the two astronauts who had survived to tell the tale. Terry remembered well the moment Lauren had emerged from the Nova's airlock and laughed happily at the space station's gaping personnel. It had been without question the high point of his life.
But that had been weeks ago, and the higher one got, the harder one fell. In all that time she had not spoken to him once. True, a heavy blanket of security was immediately wrapped around the station. Terry could understand the need for careful quarantine. The restriction on interviews was unusual, however, and the rule against their speaking to family and friends was absurd. Dean Ramsey said the secrecy was a matter of national security. Yet Terry felt Lauren should have been able to get a message to him if she had really wanted to.
A single edited interview had been taped with Lauren and Gary. Their account of what happened after radio contact was lost was incredible. There had been one Russian survivor - Ivan Zossima. Although emaciated from negligible rations, he had led them far underground to a natural canal filled with water, and then convinced them to explore the canal. Using the hovercraft Hummingbird, Commander Brent and Zossima came to a massive subterranean lake, with an island at its center. Unfortunately, the Hawk lost communications with Brent and Zossima at that point, and their crewmates feared they were dead.
But following a brilliant plan developed by Professor Ranoth, the other astronauts transformed the tractor into a boat and paddled up the canal to the island. Once there, they found Brent but not Zossima. Commander Brent said Hummingbird had malfunctioned. While waiting for rescue, he said, the Russian had wandered off into the dark and gotten lost. They never did find him.
Professor Ranoth was able to repair Hummingbird, but not the Hawk's communication system, which they discovered broken when they got back to the ship. Commander Brent decided to use what time they had left for further explorations. This time Professor Ranoth and Jessica Brent accompanied their commander to the island, finding a number of volcanic fissures. But their bad luck continued. The island erupted and their signal was cut off. Back at the Hawk, Gary and Lauren knew their partners were dead. They had no choice but to blast off. But even that proved difficult. The Hawk's main generators failed next, and it took two days to repair them. Their long and difficult landing had consumed most of their fuel. After blast-off, they were only able to attain a shallow orbit.
Their controls were working poorly. They bumped into the Nova and sheared off its antenna by accident. Eventually, when they did dock with the Nova, a fire started in the Hawk. Gary tried to put it out, but the lander exploded and badly injured his arm. They ended up having to jettison the ship, and Gary eventually had to have his arm amputated.
Their sorrows were not over. They were on their way home, asleep in the hibernaculums, when Lauren was awakened with an emergency in Mark's hibernaculum. It had shorted out for some reason and killed Mark. Lauren woke Gary up, and they performed a brief ceremony before sending Mark's body into space. Then, finally, they returned to their hibernaculums and slept away the remainder of the long journey.
They said they were glad to be home.
Terry looked north in the direction of the shuttle landing strip, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. It had only been two days ago that the shuttle had brought Gary and Lauren down from the station. The public still thought they were in space. The only reason Terry knew otherwise was that Dean Ramsey had called him and told him. Lauren hadn't called him. That worried Terry very badly. After all, he had let her sister die.
Terry walked toward the complex.
He was met at the door by an elderly major with thinning white hair and an extremely sunburnt face. The gentleman shook his hand politely and led him to a small box-like room separated from a larger room by a sheet of glass. Terry assumed the quarantine was still in effect. The major left Terry alone, promising to let Lauren know that he had arrived. Terry began to relax, looking forward to seeing her again. She couldn't hate him, he thought. She loved him too much to hate him.
Then suddenly she stood in the doorway on the other side of the glass.
She wore a white pleated skirt and a red turtleneck sweater. Her hair was long, much longer than he had ever seen it before, and she was very pale. To his surprise he saw she was wearing thick makeup, in particular, heavy lipstick. Lauren had always disdained painting her face.
She smiled when she saw him, yet her eyes were dark and cold. Terry wasn't given a chance to stand before she crossed the room and sat down on the opposite side of the glass. He briefly wondered if the outside sun had made him dizzy, for she moved in a blur.
He was at a loss what to say.
'Lauren,' he said finally. 'It's really you.'
Her smile didn't change. 'No. It's someone else.'
Terry forced a laugh. 'This is incredible. God, you're home.' He fidgeted in his seat as he fought to keep his eyes from tearing up. 'I thought I was never going to see you again.'
'It was nice of you to stop by,' she said. She crossed her legs and ran her fingers through her hair. He noticed that her nails were long.
He shook his head. 'It's just so good to see you.' He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. 'This last year has been dreadful. I thought you were dead.'
For no reason his remarks amused her. She chuckled. 'Did you?'
Terry tried to laugh along. 'You must be happy to be back on Earth. It's been a long time. Two years. Jesus, it's been ages.'
'Yeah.' Lauren grinned and licked her lips in a curiously unpleasant manner. Her tongue was a dark red.
Terry lowered his head. 'I was sorry to hear about what happened to your friends.'
Lauren didn't respond. Her smile remained fixed like something painted on.
'I guess you must miss Jim,' he said, thinking, Jim and Jennifer both. ' 'Jim was a fool,' Lauren said.
'What?'
'Jim was a fool.'
'Why do you say that? Are you all right?'
'Don't I look all right?' Lauren asked.
For the first time Terry looked directly into her face, into her eyes. They were different from the eyes he remembered, darker and larger. Yes, they were very large. They seemed to fill the room, and for a moment he could see nothing else. But then he began to cough, and couldn't catch his breath. He felt suddenly anxious, as if the walls were closing in on him. He tore his eyes away and bent over and gasped for air.
'Are you sure you're OK?' he asked, thinking she should be the one asking the question.
Her smile widened. 'It wasn't so bad. Just a little pinch and then, sweet.' A throaty laugh came out of her mouth. 'Like when I lost my virginity. You remember when I lost my virginity, don't you?'
Sweet.
And Terry did remember, as if the event were happening that very instant. Of course, neither of them had been a virgin that night, but he caught her meaning. It had felt as good as the first time. They had been dating two months. They came home late from a movie and she invited him up. Inside her apartment they sat on
the couch and drank coffee with the music down low. Jennifer was sound asleep in the back room. Lauren rested her leg against his. Well, here we are, she said. Yeah, he replied. What are you thinking, she asked. How beautiful you are, he said. It was
a great line, it must have been. She fell into his arms and her tongue went into his mouth and neither of them had enough hands to do what they wanted to do. Their clothes were off in seconds and she groaned and lay back on the couch and spread her legs and it was a sight that made him groan. Does that feel good, he asked as he climbed on top of her. It feels like candy, she said, and laughed. I love you, Lauren. I love you, Terry.
Love me, Terry.
Yet that was not the way he remembered it right now, not exactly. He was on the couch on top of her, and her thighs were wrapped around his hips. Only now her sighs of pleasure were screams of pain. He was raping her, and each thrust he made into her made her squirt out bright red blood. But now he enjoyed himself even more. In spite of her screams, he found the sex much sweeter. He lowered his head over her belly and the blood that spurted out between her legs was very sweet indeed.
Stop it! What am I thinking? Jesus Christ.
'Lauren,' Terry whispered. Sweat dripped from his forehead and stung his eyes. She uncrossed her knees and rested one ankle atop the other. She wiggled her big toe and shifted her hips more comfortably into the chair. The room swayed with her hips, and he swayed with them, and the taste of the sweet blood wouldn't leave his mind. He didn't just want to love her, he realized. He wanted to do other things to her, different things.
'Yes, Terry?' she asked gently. Her lips curled back over her white teeth.
'Nothing,' he whispered. The choking sensation returned. He thought he was having a heart attack. His dark lust was drowned in his sudden fear. A heavy hand pressed his chest, squeezing him tight all the way up to his chin. He briefly closed his eyes, and vomit swelled from his guts into