mean… She was a junior in college? You're lying."
"To my own daughter? Absolutely not."
"Then… How?"
"I told you: she's damned smart. She graduated high school with honors just after her sixteenth birthday."
"Must've been a strange person by the time you got her. Seems normal now."
"No, not really. Strange, I mean. Rather out-going, as a matter of fact. She just has a terrific memory. And more than her share of aptitude. Plus, well, her parents valued knowledge more than the average. And passed this on to Callie. Her father was a modestly successful mechanic who never went to college. Neither did her mother. But they didn't waste time on the t-vid, read a lot, took her on educational trips. Pretty rare people."
"Yeah. Why didn't they go to college?"
A knowing look passed across Eric's face. "They came out of high school in the 'teens. Only the rich and the fully scholarshipped could afford college." Then he shrugged. "But some people don't really need a complete formal education. And that is not the only measure of intelligence. I remember having a great conversation with them."
"Is she from Chicago?"
"No. Fredricksburg. I met her parents when they came to visit the school. I don't know why they wanted to meet me. They couldn't have had much time, but they came by my office. Said something about seeing all of Callie's professors. But I remember them staying for over an hour. I know they couldn't have made it to all of her instructors. She was taking half again as many credits as the average student."
Eric lapsed into a silence. "What happened after that?" Emily asked when it seemed he was done.
"I don't know. She aced my class. Then I finished my dissertation, got my doctorate and we went to Cambridge. I didn't hear of her again until she made the news by joining Norwood's staff. And then we wrote a bit, on business. A couple of times we met when I was in Washington. She even dragged me in to see Norwood once. Then I got my grant to go to Egypt that first time. Right after that meeting, that was. I still wonder if it was her that made the strings get pulled."
"Why?"
"Because Norwood didn't seem all that interested."
"No. Why do you think she did all that? What was her motivation?"
"How should I know? Maybe she liked my class. Anyway, she's done a hell of a lot of good here. Memories inside the belt are notoriously flexible. What she does is to try and counter that. What's more, there's now more like her, assisting Congress, the White House, a few lobbyists, even the handful of public interest PACs. For that, I'm glad to help her whenever she needs it in my area, and I'm grateful when I get her help."
"Yeah." Emily couldn't keep out of her voice that she suspected more. "What ever you say."
"What?" His voice sounded a half-octave higher.
She looked at the waterfall fountain behind its glass wall. "Nothing," she said breezily, then changed the subject, slightly. "Are you going to tell her about Steve?"
'What… Oh, yeah. Yes." His voice returned to normal with that. "Sure. I suppose. I don't know how much I'll tell her. Enough, I guess. I'm not in the mood for anyone's sympathy."
"I didn't think you were."
"No. Maybe she can even help us somehow. Maybe she can get someone to sponsor a repeal or a change in this damned law. Even if it might not help us directly, I'd be real glad to see it go."
Emily nodded, still gazing at the falling water, cascading white down the stones and foaming at the bottom. Mold was growing on the glass. Eric was silent.
Finally she said, "We'd better get back outside. I don't think he's coming in here."
Two hours later they were on the Metro. Not even a desperate John Hardy would be out in the cold, heavy downpour that had come.
19
Ruth Luptman came down as they were removing their coats. "Eric," she said. "Call
"To my own daughter? Absolutely not."
"Then… How?"
"I told you: she's damned smart. She graduated high school with honors just after her sixteenth birthday."
"Must've been a strange person by the time you got her. Seems normal now."
"No, not really. Strange, I mean. Rather out-going, as a matter of fact. She just has a terrific memory. And more than her share of aptitude. Plus, well, her parents valued knowledge more than the average. And passed this on to Callie. Her father was a modestly successful mechanic who never went to college. Neither did her mother. But they didn't waste time on the t-vid, read a lot, took her on educational trips. Pretty rare people."
"Yeah. Why didn't they go to college?"
A knowing look passed across Eric's face. "They came out of high school in the 'teens. Only the rich and the fully scholarshipped could afford college." Then he shrugged. "But some people don't really need a complete formal education. And that is not the only measure of intelligence. I remember having a great conversation with them."
"Is she from Chicago?"
"No. Fredricksburg. I met her parents when they came to visit the school. I don't know why they wanted to meet me. They couldn't have had much time, but they came by my office. Said something about seeing all of Callie's professors. But I remember them staying for over an hour. I know they couldn't have made it to all of her instructors. She was taking half again as many credits as the average student."
Eric lapsed into a silence. "What happened after that?" Emily asked when it seemed he was done.
"I don't know. She aced my class. Then I finished my dissertation, got my doctorate and we went to Cambridge. I didn't hear of her again until she made the news by joining Norwood's staff. And then we wrote a bit, on business. A couple of times we met when I was in Washington. She even dragged me in to see Norwood once. Then I got my grant to go to Egypt that first time. Right after that meeting, that was. I still wonder if it was her that made the strings get pulled."
"Why?"
"Because Norwood didn't seem all that interested."
"No. Why do you think she did all that? What was her motivation?"
"How should I know? Maybe she liked my class. Anyway, she's done a hell of a lot of good here. Memories inside the belt are notoriously flexible. What she does is to try and counter that. What's more, there's now more like her, assisting Congress, the White House, a few lobbyists, even the handful of public interest PACs. For that, I'm glad to help her whenever she needs it in my area, and I'm grateful when I get her help."
"Yeah." Emily couldn't keep out of her voice that she suspected more. "What ever you say."
"What?" His voice sounded a half-octave higher.
She looked at the waterfall fountain behind its glass wall. "Nothing," she said breezily, then changed the subject, slightly. "Are you going to tell her about Steve?"
'What… Oh, yeah. Yes." His voice returned to normal with that. "Sure. I suppose. I don't know how much I'll tell her. Enough, I guess. I'm not in the mood for anyone's sympathy."
"I didn't think you were."
"No. Maybe she can even help us somehow. Maybe she can get someone to sponsor a repeal or a change in this damned law. Even if it might not help us directly, I'd be real glad to see it go."
Emily nodded, still gazing at the falling water, cascading white down the stones and foaming at the bottom. Mold was growing on the glass. Eric was silent.
Finally she said, "We'd better get back outside. I don't think he's coming in here."
Two hours later they were on the Metro. Not even a desperate John Hardy would be out in the cold, heavy downpour that had come.
19
Ruth Luptman came down as they were removing their coats. "Eric," she said. "Call
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