The Mad Scientist's Daughter (15 page)

  When Finn finally arrived, pulling up to the curb in her father's dusty car, Cat was sitting on the porch, waiting for him. She had smoked one cigarette after another for the last thirty minutes. Finn stepped out, his hands dangling at his sides.

  "You were able to make it," she said.

  "Yes." Finn walked across the green yard. "Dr Novak has been busy, but he told me it was all right for me to take a break." He came onto the porch and sat down beside her. Cat tapped her cigarette into the teacup. Finn frowned.

  "You know that's not good for you."

  "People do lots of things that aren't good for them."

  She watched Finn consider this. She reached over and put her hand on his. What passed between them, these times they were alone together, was always unspoken. Cat did not know how to discuss the intricacies of desire with someone made of circuits and wires. She was afraid of the damage she might do.

  And he never spoke of it directly.

  "Let's go inside," Cat said softly. The wind picked up as she spoke, rippling the grass in the yard. They stood up at the same time.

  The light in the apartment was slanted and filled with dust. Cat had never shut the windows, and her gauzy curtains billowed like ghosts. Purple wisteria blossoms scattered across the floor and stuck to the soles of her bare feet. She let the wind slam the apartment door shut, and then she turned to face Finn. She lifted her hair up off her neck.

  "I'm glad you could come," she said.

  "So am I."

  She dropped her hair back down and entwined her arms around his shoulders. He rested his hands on the curve of her hip. She kissed him, and he kissed back. Finn reached down and slipped the dress over her shoulders. He kissed places on her skin that made her shiver. Cat didn't care that the windows hung open, that she could hear cars driving by on the alley behind the house's yard. Her hands were at the zipper of his pants. He picked her up as easily, as carefully, as he would a circuit board out of a machine and rocked her back and forth, slowly, against his body. She entangled her fingers in his hair, clenched her eyes shut, moaned against the side of his neck. Later, he carried her into the bedroom, laid her across her clean bed sheets, and kissed a trail from her mouth, over her belly, into the vee of her thighs.

  Time dripped by and all the oxygen in Cat's blood flowed out of her: through her mouth, her eyes, the space between her legs. The light changed, turned amber and then violet and then blue, and the warm breeze of evening fluttered through the window, the scent of wisteria fermenting the air. She became so dizzy she nearly lost track of him.

  Of course, he didn't come. He never did. He had told her it was impossible, once.

  Eventually, Cat was too exhausted to do anything more. She stretched breathless and flushed across her rumpled bed, Finn beside her, their hands barely touching. He turned his head toward her. His eyes gleamed the way they did in darkness. Cat let out a long contented sigh, and then Finn slid off the bed and disappeared into the dark hallway. She heard the sound of his footsteps moving through the apartment.

  "Don't leave yet!" She stood up, wrapped a sheet around her waist, and followed him into the apartment. Her steps were shaky and uncertain. She found him in the kitchen, gazing into the refrigerator.

  "I wasn't going to leave." He looked over at her. "I thought you might need to eat."

  Cat laughed, touched. "How do you remember stuff like that?"

  Finn looked back at the refrigerator. The light made his pale skin the color of frost. "I observe."

  "I can just order some Chinese food." Cat pushed the refrigerator door shut. Finn looked at her. Cat was suddenly aware that she was naked, that the sheet had slipped down low on her hips. Her heart thumped in her chest. It was not desire. She'd burned up all her desire hours ago. It was something else, something that could not be reciprocated.

  Her breath came out shallow, like puffs of steam.

  A few hours later, Cat fell asleep. She curled up like a cat on top of her bedspread, her head leaning against Finn's smooth, pale chest, listening to the familiar absence of a heartbeat.

  "Promise you won't leave until morning," she said, her words blurred with sleepiness.

  "I won't leave."

  She closed her eyes and then she dreamt of smudges of light filtering between the branches of black trees, of curls of kudzu twisting around her bare waist. She dreamt of circuit boards.

  She slept for a very long time.

 

Cat sat straight up. Her entire body vibrated. When she breathed, her breath materialized on the air in front of her.

  "Finn! What's happened?" Cat realized she was cocooned in quilts and woven blankets she had made years ago, things she kept stashed away in the linen closet because she'd never been able to sell them to a gallery. She pulled the blankets back up around her neck and drew her legs up tight against her stomach. She called out Finn's name again.

  The windows in the bedroom were still open. Ice fringed the sills. The curtains rattled in the wind. Cat shivered and then Finn appeared in the doorway, unfazed, wearing the same short-sleeved shirt he had on yesterday.

  "God, you didn't close the windows!" Cat pulled the blankets more tightly around her shoulders.

  "I'm sorry," said Finn. "I didn't realize – I only saw you shivering while you slept." He strode across the room and pulled the windows shut and the bangs reverberated through the apartment, fading into twinkling, starlit echoes.

  "What's going on?" Cat asked. "It's freaking April." Her teeth chattered. "Get over here and warm me up."

  "It's still March. It won't be April for another two days. Please, let me close the rest of the windows–"

  "OK, right. Sure." Cat pulled the layers of blankets over her head, blocking out the pale, milky sunlight. The windows slammed shut, one after another, like gunshots. She heard Finn's footsteps come back into the room. She poked her head out.

  "Get into bed with me."

  And he did. She threw the blankets around him and pressed herself tight against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. His skin was cold but a faint heat emanated from his body's core. Cat brought the blankets over both their heads.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I thought the blankets would be enough." He paused. "It's rather enjoyable listening to the wind blow in. That is why I didn't close the windows."

  Cat smiled in spite of the cold. She knew what he meant. Whenever northers blew in, the trees rattled outside her bedroom window, and for some reason the sound always comforted her. It reminded her of Christmas.

  "I still can't believe it got so cold. It's spring. Everything was blooming."

  "The weather patterns are still very difficult to predict," said Finn. "Even for me."

  They lay there, pressed close to each other, until Cat warmed up. She directed Finn toward her closet and told him what clothing she wanted, and she dressed under the covers. Then she padded into her living room to turn up the heat, her breath condensing on the air. The heater shuddered on, smelling faintly of burning dust. When she came back into the bedroom Finn was staring out the window. The air around his face was empty, no clouds of breath curling like mist out of his mouth.

  "What's it like out there?" she asked. She walked up beside him, her eyes on the profile of his face. She pressed her hands to the glass, turned her head, looked out. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Spring had frozen. All the flowers, all the delicate green leaves on the trees, all the curling, fragrant vines – everything was encased in ice. The wisteria blossoms outside the window caught the sunlight and glittered. The grass had turned to diamonds.

  Cat's breath fogged up the glass while the section of window in front of Finn stayed transparent as always.

  Already, the ice that formed along the inside of her apartment had begun to melt. It dripped down the walls and formed glassy pools along the baseboards. Cat hooked her arm into Finn's and leaned against him.

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  "Ignore it," Cat said.

  More thumping. The house's frozen walls rattled. Cat's comm slate trilled from the table beside her bed. She picked it up, saw the backlit picture of Richard. "Shit," she said softly.

  "Should I leave?" Finn was staring at her. The soft silver light brought out the shimmery highlights in his hair.

  "It's just… It's Richard."

  Finn turned back to the window.

  "Oh," he said. "I see."

  A twinge of guilt twisted through Cat's belly. But then Finn glanced at her, and his face was calm and dispassionate. Not jealous at all. She told herself he didn't mind.

  Finn and Richard had met twice before. The first time Richard sat down beside Finn and asked if Finn would open himself up so Richard could see the mystery of Finn's clockwork. Finn refused, but three days later, Richard announced his new business venture. Artificial intelligence. He wouldn't say anything more about it.

  The second time, it was Thanksgiving, at Cat's father's house, and Richard stared from across the room as Cat and Finn played Scrabble without him.

  "I don't think he's going away." Cat dropped her comm slate on the bed. "He's been so weird lately."

  "I should go back to Dr Novak's house," Finn said. "We have quite a lot of work to do. Your father has a contract with STL. For the lunar base."

  Cat walked up to him and kissed him one last time. His mouth was cold against hers. It warmed at her touch.

  The knocking stopped, replaced by a scratching noise outside the bedroom walls. Cat took a step away from Finn and then Richard's face appeared in the defrosting window, his cheeks red from the cold. He knocked on the glass. Waved. His gazed flickered between Cat and Finn.

  "I find him offputting." Finn turned to Cat. "I hope you don't mind me saying that."

  "I don't mind." Cat looked at Richard through the glass. He blew into his hands, stomped his feet on the ground. She never cared when her friends made fun of him. Still, she supposed she loved him, because she couldn't bear the thought of his anger being directed at her. Also, whenever he was around, she felt normal, like a normal part of the world. His normalcy was contagious. Her mother would approve.

  Cat followed Finn into the living room. She unlocked the door. Cold air blasted across her face, the wind biting and sharp. It nearly knocked the door off its hinges. The outside world smelled like the inside of a freezer. She almost slammed the door shut, but Finn had already stepped out onto the porch. Richard came around the side of the house.

  "Hey, Finn!" he said, his words turning into steam. "What're you doing round here?"

  Finn regarded Richard with his dark eyes. Cat couldn't stop shivering but Finn didn't move.

  "I was visiting," Finn said.

  "Oh," said Richard. "Right. Part of the family. I get that." He held up his hands, palms out, and then shoved them back into his pockets. "Can I come inside? It's fucking freezing out here."

  Cat nodded. Richard bounded up the steps to the porch, slid through her apartment door. He stuck his head out. "You're not coming in?"

  "Let me walk Finn to his car."

  Richard wrinkled his forehead. Finn was already walking down the sidewalk to the curb where her father's car was parked. Cat ran after him. Before he could climb inside, she put her hand on his upper arm. She wanted to kiss him but she didn't.

  "Thank you," she said.

  Finn stared at her. The cold wind ruffled his hair.

  "You should go back in to Richard." He nodded. "Goodbye."

  "Bye," Cat whispered. She leaned back on the heels of her shoes and watched as Finn started the car. She folded her hands over her chest. The frozen wisteria vines clinked overhead. The entire world sounded as though it were made of glass.

  Finn drove away, and Cat stood for a moment longer, letting the cold seep through the fabric of her clothes, before going back inside.

  "So how'd it go with the Wonder Twins?"

  Cat stopped in the doorway. Richard leaned against her couch.

  "Who?" she said.

  "You know. Felix and Miguel. You were doing…" He waved his hand around.

  "The sub party." The lie felt tasteless on her tongue. She shut the door. "It went well."

  Richard nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair, and it stood on end. His eyes were bright and glossy, as though he hadn't slept. He dropped down on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Cat walked across the room and sat down and Richard kissed her, suddenly and more passionately than she expected. After an entire night of kissing Finn it was sloppy, unclean. Overly wet. Whenever Richard pulled her close to him she could feel his heart beating against her chest, and it always disconcerted her, the feeling of another heart beating out of time with her own.

  "This weather is crazy, isn't it?" Richard kept his hands on Cat's shoulders. "I was up at the office when it blew in. I swear I thought the glass was going to shatter."

  "I didn't hear it," Cat said. "When I went to sleep, it was still spring."

  Richard grinned. "Did Finn listen in? You think he even noticed?"

  Cat hesitated, unsure of the best way to answer. But Richard had already distracted himself.

  "This weather is making me crazy," he said. "It's making me do crazy things." The tenor of his voice had changed. It was higher pitched, breathier. "Do you want to know what sort of crazy things it's making me do?"

  Cat didn't move. The correct answer was yes. She knew this. She nodded slowly.

  "It's making me buy shit."

  "What kind of shit?"

  Richard laughed, a drawn-out, nervous, staccato laugh. She had seen him do this before giving speeches to investors. He ran his hands through his hair again. Looked her straight in the eye.