Arc D'X by Steve Erickson Page B
Authors: Steve Erickson
Tags: Literary, Historical fiction, Science-Fiction, Historical, Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Genre Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Alternative History, Cultural Heritage, alternate history, Dystopian
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that they hadn't found a weapon only meant Mallory had been too busy working his TV scam with the concierge to do a proper search. Now his petty little political struggle with Mallory had put Wade in the position of having to let her go, at least for the time being. He walked to her cell, turning everything over in his mind.
He almost expected not to find her there. He almost expected to walk into the jail and find her cell empty, a lapse among the city's incarcerated. He thought she might have just disappeared as peculiarly as she'd appeared, that he'd walk back to his desk and find her file vanished with no trace of her having existed for the twenty-four hours she'd existed. But inside her cell she sat on the small bench staring at her hands in her lap the same way she had in the hotel room the day before, appearing only somewhat less dazed at the end of the twenty-four hours than she was at the beginning.
Wade watched her awhile before she looked up at him.
"You said something yesterday," he finally spoke, "when you STEVE ERICKSON • 71
woke in the hotel. Do you remember?" He said, "Something about a miracle." She licked her lips and seemed to think about it very hard, terrified that there might be still another thing she couldn't account for. Wade signaled to the jailer at the end of the hall, who pulled the lever that opened Sally's cell. Nothing was so sophisti-cated in this city, Wade thought, as the levers that opened and closed cells. "I'm going to take you home," he said, and she looked at him with the hushed alarm of someone who might be expected to know where home was.
He tried to explain things to her on the way to Redemption. They took the same outer road bordering the city that he'd driven the previous night coming back from the Arboretum. "You're not clear of this," he said to her next to him in the front seat, "not by a long shot. You and your family are going to be watched. There's only so much we have the authority to do in this particular zone, but keeping an eye on you is one of them and arresting you again is another, since the crime was committed in the city proper." He paused.
"I'm sticking my neck out for you." It only really occurred to him as he said it. Maybe, he thought angrily, she didn't give a flying fuck. "But my neck's not that long," he almost snarled, "not for you, not for anyone." He still had trouble talking to her. It didn't help that she said nothing in return. "You know," he blurted, "if there's anything you'd like to tell me, this would be a fine time to do it," and he looked at her to see that he wasn't talking to thin air.
She was still there, all right; the thin air hadn't claimed her. She was still there, mute, unaware, and it made him furious. He wanted to stop the car and reach over and shake her, but he was afraid of himself, of what he'd do if he actually touched her and held her in his hands. He wanted just to wrest her from her transfixed attention, until he realized she was transfixed not with her memories or her dreams but something very real beyond the windshield of the car.
She was looking at the volcano. She looked at its flat peak and the smoke that rose into the sky. She watched it a long time, it seemed to Wade, and then for a moment she turned to him, something expectant in her eyes and on her lips. She craned her neck to keep the mountain in view long after they passed it and after Wade had turned the car toward the sea. In the white light of the A R C D'X • 72
circle, when he parked the car and she got out, she continued watching the volcano until her attention was interrupted by the redhaired two-year-old child who ran from the third unit into her baffled mother's arms.
It may not have been until that moment that Wade knew for certain he was going back to the Fleurs d'X. Even driving Sally back from police headquarters he believed he could resist returning to the Arboretum. But when the small child ran to Sally's arms, and the mother grabbed
He almost expected not to find her there. He almost expected to walk into the jail and find her cell empty, a lapse among the city's incarcerated. He thought she might have just disappeared as peculiarly as she'd appeared, that he'd walk back to his desk and find her file vanished with no trace of her having existed for the twenty-four hours she'd existed. But inside her cell she sat on the small bench staring at her hands in her lap the same way she had in the hotel room the day before, appearing only somewhat less dazed at the end of the twenty-four hours than she was at the beginning.
Wade watched her awhile before she looked up at him.
"You said something yesterday," he finally spoke, "when you STEVE ERICKSON • 71
woke in the hotel. Do you remember?" He said, "Something about a miracle." She licked her lips and seemed to think about it very hard, terrified that there might be still another thing she couldn't account for. Wade signaled to the jailer at the end of the hall, who pulled the lever that opened Sally's cell. Nothing was so sophisti-cated in this city, Wade thought, as the levers that opened and closed cells. "I'm going to take you home," he said, and she looked at him with the hushed alarm of someone who might be expected to know where home was.
He tried to explain things to her on the way to Redemption. They took the same outer road bordering the city that he'd driven the previous night coming back from the Arboretum. "You're not clear of this," he said to her next to him in the front seat, "not by a long shot. You and your family are going to be watched. There's only so much we have the authority to do in this particular zone, but keeping an eye on you is one of them and arresting you again is another, since the crime was committed in the city proper." He paused.
"I'm sticking my neck out for you." It only really occurred to him as he said it. Maybe, he thought angrily, she didn't give a flying fuck. "But my neck's not that long," he almost snarled, "not for you, not for anyone." He still had trouble talking to her. It didn't help that she said nothing in return. "You know," he blurted, "if there's anything you'd like to tell me, this would be a fine time to do it," and he looked at her to see that he wasn't talking to thin air.
She was still there, all right; the thin air hadn't claimed her. She was still there, mute, unaware, and it made him furious. He wanted to stop the car and reach over and shake her, but he was afraid of himself, of what he'd do if he actually touched her and held her in his hands. He wanted just to wrest her from her transfixed attention, until he realized she was transfixed not with her memories or her dreams but something very real beyond the windshield of the car.
She was looking at the volcano. She looked at its flat peak and the smoke that rose into the sky. She watched it a long time, it seemed to Wade, and then for a moment she turned to him, something expectant in her eyes and on her lips. She craned her neck to keep the mountain in view long after they passed it and after Wade had turned the car toward the sea. In the white light of the A R C D'X • 72
circle, when he parked the car and she got out, she continued watching the volcano until her attention was interrupted by the redhaired two-year-old child who ran from the third unit into her baffled mother's arms.
It may not have been until that moment that Wade knew for certain he was going back to the Fleurs d'X. Even driving Sally back from police headquarters he believed he could resist returning to the Arboretum. But when the small child ran to Sally's arms, and the mother grabbed
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