“Bloat,” interjected the government man.
“Bloat,” agreed the Aborigine’s voice. “But everyone knows that tale, or at least will soon enough.”
“Uncle Jack,” said Cordelia, feeling a sudden foreshadowing, daring her first hope in a long, long time, and what was the equivalent of foreshadowing, except outlined in light? Was it like the sun coming out of eclipse. “What about him?”
“He is safe. Even safer than you had hoped.”
“Where is he?”
“He is here in Manhattan.” said Wyungare’s voice. “And so is my cousin, the black cat. When he sees his mate again, he will have such stories to tell.”
Cordelia looked stunned. “Mon Dieu,” whispered Cordelia. “This is all”
“Strange? Just wait.” Wyungare’s voice took on a deeper intensity. Cameo leaned forward across the table. “Your uncle will live.”
“Live?”
“You don’t have to repeat, my love, though when you do, the sound of your voice thrills me.” Cameo smiled. Her pale face was flushed now. “Get assistance from the Jokertown Clinic. When Cody and Finn and the rest of their crew — and yes, even Dr. Bob Mengele — have reclaimed their reptilian patient, they will find that none of the AIDS virus remains alive in Jack’s body. The alligator form was too alien and hostile an environment for even those hardy viral organisms. The next step will be to reverse Dr. Bob’s procedure and bring your uncle back to human form.”
“Can it be done?” said Cordelia.
Cameo’s head nodded. “More easily than you would think. The patient will cooperate. Your uncle has regained his humanity within. He is ready to be a man again.”
“I can’t believe it,” the young woman whispered.
Cameo’s body suddenly spasmed. “Cordie, I’m going to have to say ta for now.”
“No!” Cordelia shook off the government man’s hand as she jumped to her feet. “You can’t go.”
“It isn’t really my choice,” said her lover’s voice. “Just remember something, love.” Cameo’s body walked around the table and confronted Cordelia. The government man gaped.
“Stay,” said Cordelia. “Somehow.…stay. Please.”
“Listen to me,” said Wyungare’s voice. His/Cameo’s fingers lay gently on Cordelia’s shoulders. “I cannot tell you that I will ever return; nor can I say that you will come to me. Not in your lifetime, not in this place. But believe this: I will always be with you.”
“I love you,” said Cordelia fiercely, staring at the other’s eyes.
“And I, you,” said Wyungare.
Cordelia wrapped her arms around the other. Their lips found one another’s. They held each other tightly. The gasp from behind them was the government man’s.
The two paid no heed.
A young black man was alone in the family room at the Jokertown Clinic, his face between his hands. He looked up when Tom entered. He was wearing a charcoal-gray Armani suit and a blank, hopeless expression. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“I was… a friend of hers,” Tom said. “Tom.”
The black man got up from his chair. He was slender, soft-spoken, good-looking. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “I’m Rick.” Tom must have looked blank. “Her husband,” Rick added. Then he finally noticed the gold band on his finger, and remembered the one the pregnant Danny wore on hers.
It made him feel strange. An intruder. “How is she?”
“Still in a coma,” Rick said wearily. “She lost the baby.” His voice broke. He turned away so Tom would not see the tears.
“They won’t let me into ICU,” Tom explained. “They say I’m not family.”
Rick nodded slowly, made himself turn back. “I don’t know if she hears me, but I’ll tell her you were here.”
“I’d like that,” Tom said. They shook hands.
He walked past the ICU one last time as he left the waiting room, knowing she was in there. Two of her. The Danny he’d rescued from the New Jersey and the one who had stayed behind at headquarters, the pregnant one, Rick’s wife. They were the lucky ones. They’d had help right there when it happened. The others — two, at least — had died as his Danny had died.
There was one sister he wasn’t sure of; the one he’d left at Bayonne Hospital, the one who had shared his shell and asked him his name. He hoped she’d made it, but there was no way he could go back to Bayonne to find out. They’d be looking for him now.
He walked down the hospital steps, past the worn stone lions that Tachyon always liked to pat, hands shoved deep in his pockets, wondering where he could go. There didn’t seem to be a lot of choices.
The whistle took him by surprise. “Hey, stranger! Want to sign my cast?”
He turned around slowly, not daring to believe.
Danny was standing by the curb, leaning on a pair of metal crutches, smiling at him. The cast covered her foot and the lower part of her leg. Her long blond hair moved in the wind.
“…Danny…” His voice was a whisper.
“I knew you’d show up, sooner or later.”
“But how… ?”
“They doped me up pretty good, enough to put me out right through the night. I was out of the loop.” She smiled grimly. “Lucky me, huh?”
“Then you don’t… you didn’t. .
She was way ahead of him, as always. “Whatever happened down under the Rox, I don’t remember it.” She glanced back up at the hospital. “I will, if the rest of me wakes up. I’ll remember what they remember. Third-hand, but…” She grimaced. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Will they wake up?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Maybe it was supposed to sound jocular. It sounded scared. There was a long silence. “What about you?” she asked softly.
“It’s over,” Tom said bleakly. “The junkyard’s gone, the shell, everything. I’m broke, I’m homeless, and I’ve been dead three years. The police are looking for me. Last night I killed God knows how many people. I keep trying to tell myself it wasn’t me, but.…” He sighed. “God help me.”
“Where are you going now? What are you going to do?”
Tom spread his hands helplessly.
Danny took one and held it. “I have an apartment in Los Angeles. It’s not much, but…”
He didn’t know what to say. “I … Danny, you don’t know how much that means to me, but…”
“The right answer was, when does the plane leave?”
Danny said with a rueful twist of her mouth. “What’s wrong? Did we have a lousy time last night?”
“No,” Tom said. “You don’t remember that either?”
She shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.” She squeezed his hand.
Tom felt acutely uncomfortable. He took his hand back, turned away. “This isn’t right.”
“Why?” Danny asked. “On account of Rick?”
“Partly,” Tom admitted.
“I love Rick,” Danny said. “But he loves her. He’s only married to one of me. That’s the way he wanted it. He always got twitchy when I talked about my… sisters. It was all a little too strange for him.”
“I know how he feels,” Tom admitted. “Last night… I was falling in love with her, Danny. She died in my arms. Now I’m supposed to go off with you, a day later? I don’t know, it’s… it’s like I’m being unfaithful to her. I can’t.” Danny gave a bemused shake of her head.
“That’s sweet. So how come it makes me want to cry?” He could see the tears in her eyes. She bit her lip as she fought to hold them back. “Oh, you men are all so weird,” she said with frustration.
Tom looked at her sharply. “She said that too.”
“What a coincidence,” Danny snapped angrily. “So who is General Tso anyway, and why are we eating his chicken?” She turned away from him. “Excuse me. I need to go comfort Rick. He’ll think I’m a poor substitute too, but what the fuck.” She shoved off on her crutches and pushed past him.
Tom tu
rned and watched her hobble off. She was almost to the steps when he called out. “Danny…”
She turned back to him. The wind was blowing her hair in a fine cascade across her face. Tom gazed at her for a long time before he spoke. She looked younger than she was, and more vulnerable. She looked afraid. He knew how she felt.
“What time does that plane leave?” he asked.
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George R. R. Martin
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George R. R. Martin, Dealer's Choice
(Series: Wildcards # 11)
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