Bathing the Lion (22 page)

People like to believe dogs smile. Maybe it’s true—maybe some
do
when they’re happy. But when Jane saw Kos smile now, she stepped between the dog and the others, glaring at him as if he were her enemy. At the same time she yelled, “Kaspar! Kaspar, are you there? Kos ate the
udesh
. He just ate the whole thing.”

What she said was not “udesh,” but that’s how it sounded to the Corbins.

Kaspar answered immediately. “Then get out of there! Get everyone away from him. I don’t know what happens when an animal eats it. Anything’s possible.”

He’d seen it happen before and it was horrifying.
Udesh
is mechanics’ food. If any being
other
than a mechanic eats the stuff, the best that can happen to them afterward is immediate death. The worst are the effects on them if they survive. Kaspar had twice witnessed survivors. Despite the many extraordinary, often awful sights he had witnessed in his long career as a mechanic, those two experiences left scorch marks on his memory.

While Jane tried to figure out how to handle Kos, her entire being was processing changes beyond measure. It’s simple to erase what a mechanic knows, but restoring the knowledge properly and precisely is complex.

What none of these four people knew because none of them remembered him anymore was they needed William Edmonds’s help now. As a mechanic his specialty had been as a troubleshooter. He would have known exactly what to do with Kos.

Because Kaspar could do nothing at the moment about the situation in Vermont, he walked across his hotel room to the Aurora Cobb floating by the window. Despite a very real concern for what could happen when he found something inside the cloud, Kaspar touched it anyway. He knew there might be something inside that could help them all now. He also knew the courage needed for this action came from the onetime mechanic in him. Because it’s easy being brave when you have nothing to lose. The human being he’d become would never have been able to do it. Part of the joy of being human came from the things he’d grown to cherish and gather close to his heart in this life. His friend Remco had said we need to be able to walk away from things, no matter how much we love them. But what happens when the “thing” you love is life itself?

Earlier at the café, Crebold was correct in comparing mechanics to ants in a colony. They are genetically programmed to do specific jobs. It doesn’t matter if a job entails danger, conflict, or even certain death; ants do whatever their job is without thought or hesitation. Because work and the survival of the colony are the sole purposes of their lives. Mechanics are no more afraid of work or death than ants are.

Over the course of his years on Earth, Kaspar had experienced emotions he’d never known before—longing, lust, joy, fear, anger, and surprise being just a few of them. The sensations they evoked in him were both cherished and bewildering. After all this time as a human being, he still could not decide if such feelings made existence better or worse. But things like passion and dogs—irreplaceable.

Plunging his arm deep into the cloud, his fingers immediately touched something. It moved. It was alive and fluttered frantically like a trapped moth in his cupped hand. Squeezing it, he immediately felt its spit-warm sliminess and recognized what it was in seconds—a switterbug. Kaspar had used them before but only when all else failed. They disgusted him as they did most good mechanics. Switterbugs were truly a last resort—the kind of nauseating creature only someone like Crebold at his worst used with no hesitation or compunction whenever it was convenient. Yet another reason why no one liked Crebold.

Kaspar flicked this one off his fingers like snot back into the cloud. He wanted to wipe his hand on his shirt to get all trace of the vile thing off but didn’t. His shoulders gave a disgusted shiver.

Groping around again inside the cloud, he found nothing else. How extraordinarily strange! As a mechanic, whenever he’d had to use an Aurora Cobb to fix a situation,
any
situation, the thing he needed came to hand instantly. But this time the only thing he’d found inside was a
switterbug
and he was certain that was not what he needed for this situation.

The cloud vanished. When it happened, Kaspar’s eyes were closed while he still groped carefully around inside it. Opening them again, it took seconds to fully grasp the Aurora Cobb was
gone
.

His whole body froze with his right arm extended stiffly out in front of him while the left hand was palm up close to his body, as if to instinctively protect himself from whatever he might find inside the cloud—which was gone.

“Good God.” As a mechanic Kaspar had never experienced this before: An Aurora Cobb
disappearing
before it supplied the necessary tool? Impossible. He moved slowly around the room, arms extended, hands feeling the air, fumbling about, searching. Helpless and frustrated, Kaspar stopped, put both hands on his face, and rubbed them up and down fast and hard. His cheeks turned hot from the friction.

Then someone spoke to him. A familiar voice said words he had already heard that day. “So here we are—together again just like old times.”

Dropping his hands, Kaspar saw he was once again sitting in a café across a table from Crebold. The mechanic who had chosen for the moment to look like his twin leaned back in the scarred bentwood chair, put both hands behind his head, and wove his fingers together. Looking around at the café, he loudly sucked air through his teeth.

“You’re smiling, Kaspar. Is something funny? Something I said?”

Kaspar Benn was not smiling. Maybe it looked like a smile because his mouth
was
twisted up at either end. But it was the kind of tight rictus grin a face gets after a stubbed toe or accidentally running a finger down the mean side of a knife.

“
Crebold
?” Kaspar looked from side to side to make sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing.

His twin snickered. “I should be laughing at you because I
knew
something disastrous like this was going to happen. I even said it at your review, if you remember.”

Kaspar frantically threw both hands up to stop him from talking. “Crebold,
shut up and listen to me!
We’re in a flip; we’ve already lived this moment once today but it’s happening again. It’s a flip!”

Crebold was stopped by the stricken expression on Kaspar’s face. The look alone said he was telling the truth. Even the possibility of it being true was disturbing enough to shut the mechanic up at least for the moment.

As much as he disliked and envied him, Crebold still had great grudging respect for Kaspar. Hearing him say they were in a flip confused Crebold greatly. Everything showed in his eyes, one emotion after the other—doubt, distrust, and wonder. Am I being played here or is it really true? Because if it
is
true, we’re in no-man’s-land/zero gravity/everything up for grabs/uncharted territory, even for a mechanic. All those conflicting feelings showed as he stared at Benn, still appraising him, still dubious.

Kaspar pointed at Crebold’s hand. “When the waiter brings our drinks you’re going to cover that hand with ants so you can show off your powers to the guy. You’re planning to do it right now, aren’t you?”

The right corner of Crebold’s mouth twitched but he fought to keep the rest of his face expressionless. “How do you know?”

“Because this
is a flip
—I’m telling you, we’re in a flip right now. You’ve got to believe me. We’ve been here before, Crebold.” Kaspar slapped the stone tabletop. “We’ve already done this whole scene once before today. You’re gonna show off to the waiter by covering your hand with ants. It’ll gross him out and cause a scene. Then whether you believe it or not, Grassmugg himself is going to come through
that
door over there with a bunch of other mechanics in orange suits. They’re going to haul you out of here because of your stunt. You know stealth is the first rule of mechanics, but you couldn’t resist. They’re going to parnax you for showing off in front of these people, Crebold.”

Although Crebold flinched on hearing the word “parnax,” he still wasn’t convinced. Not because he thought Kaspar was lying, but because the idea was so contrary to everything he knew or had ever learned. “Come on, Kaspar—a mechanic is never
inside
a flip. You remember: we make them happen. Then we stand back and watch the results. We’re
always
outside; a flip happens to
them
, never us.”

Kaspar said, “I know, but this is different—this one
is
happening
to
us. We’re both inside it. You know the Somersault has already started. I think it might have caused this to happen. Anything goes when one of them hits; even mechanics aren’t exempt.

“Look, were you planning to do the bit with the ants on your hand? Yes or no?”

Crebold hesitated. He answered in a tight voice, “Yes.”

“And you know I don’t have any of the powers anymore, do I? You know it better than anyone because you were on my retirement review. Crebold, look at me! How could I read your mind now if I don’t have any powers? How could I know about the ants on your hand?
Because this has happened before.
We’re just doing it again, right this minute. It’s a classic flip.”

“They’re really going to parnax me, Kaspar?”

“Yes, if you go ahead with the stupid stunt. Grassmugg told me—not some underling—Grassmugg himself is coming here to get you if you do it.”

“Gentlemen, your orders.” The waiter arrived carrying their drinks along with other orders on an unusually large tray. Remembering Crebold’s earlier rudeness, he purposely put Kaspar’s coffee cup down in front of him first and then the tomato juice with the poached egg inside it. The waiter paused a moment to give a long look at the absurd drink, wanting to make sure the unpleasant customer saw his slight smirk.

Crebold’s hand lifted off the table. He watched, absorbed, while it rose.

“Crebold don’t,
please
—”

“I know, I know.”

“Will there be anything else, gentlemen?”

Kaspar smiled at the waiter and said no, thank you.

With effort Crebold lowered his hand again and stared at it until the waiter was gone. “I didn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Raise my hand. It went up by itself, Kaspar. It rose by
itself
. I had to fight myself to pull it down again and keep those ants away.
What is going on?
”

THREE

Jane said it slowly, with particular emphasis on the last word. “It’s called a flip.”

“
What
is?”

“What’s happening to us right now.”

“A
flip
, really? Sounds stupid.”

Jane made fists against her thighs and looked at the floor. She wanted to throttle Vanessa but knew she couldn’t lose her temper now because she needed to keep the lid on things as best she could. Jane was completely unmoored by everything that had taken place. If moody Vanessa went sullen or ballistic right now it would be disastrous. “It’s not really the name but a term they use for it here. It makes it easier to refer to.”

“What do you mean, here? Where’s
here
? And who are these
they
you keep talking about?”

“Here is Earth and
they
are what are called mechanics.”

Vanessa shook her head and glared at Jane Claudius as if she’d just farted long and loud.

Jane touched Vanessa’s shoulder and pointed to a bench nearby. “Let’s go sit over there. I’ll try to explain it better.”

“I have to go to the toilet first. I’ll meet you there.” The big woman walked off and disappeared into a restroom nearby.

“Was that Vanessa Corbin you were talking to?”

Jane turned around and saw Felice. A wave of happiness and calm rolled over her. As always, Jane was delighted to meet her partner. But on this occasion it was different because she knew the encounter was part of a dream in which they’d already had this meeting once today. Now was just a repeat—part of the
flip
. “How’d you know I was here?”

Once again Felice handed her a brown paper bag containing a fresh blueberry muffin and steaming hot cup of black coffee—Jane’s favorite breakfast. Felice said, “I was getting something to eat in the food court and saw you two down here talking. Then I remembered you said you were coming here this morning to buy a skating helmet.”

Jane put a hand on her lover’s elbow and squeezed it. “I can’t talk now, Felice. I’m kind of in a crisis with Vanessa and we’ve got to work the whole thing out.”

Felice nodded and said, “Of course, sweetie. But are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Looking at her partner, Jane remembered how earlier in the dream they’d sat here by the fountain, knees touching while contentedly eating breakfast together. How nice and right it had been. How fulfilling it was to have this generous thoughtful woman in her life.

“No, I can handle it. But I love you and thanks for asking.”

“I love you too. If there’s anything I can do, I’m just up there. You know where.” Felice pointed to the bookstore where she worked.

“I know.” Jane touched Felice’s cheek. Smiling, Felice took the hand and gave the back of it a quick kiss. “See you at home.”

Watching her love walk away, Jane wondered if that would happen—if she’d ever see Felice or their home again after this flip. She sat down on the bench, put the bag with the coffee and muffin next to her, and took a very deep breath.

A few moments later her eyes were closed while she tried to rebalance her inner gyroscope, without success. She jerked on hearing Vanessa ask, “Oh, is this for me? Thanks, I’m starved.” Jane looked to the side and saw the singer sitting on the end of the bench holding the coffee Felice had brought and trying with her free hand to open the bag with the muffin in it.