Beggars in Spain by Nancy Kress

tonight,” Leisha said, for the tenth or twelfth time. “We both leave for college in just two days; this is the last chance. I really want you to meet Richard.”
    Alice lay on her stomach across her bed. Her hair, brown and lusterless, fell around her face. She wore an expensive yellow jumpsuit, silk by Ann Patterson, which rucked up around her knees.
    “Why? What do you care if I meet Richard or not?”
    “Because you’re my sister,” Leisha said. She knew better than to say “my twin.” Nothing got Alice angry faster.
    “I don’t want to.” The next moment Alice’s face changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Leisha—I didn’t mean to sound so snotty. But…but I don’t want to.”
    “It won’t be all of them. Just Richard. And just for an hour or so. Then you can come back here and pack for Northwestern.”
    “I’m not going to Northwestern.”
    Leisha stared at her.
    Alice said, “I’m pregnant.”
    Leisha sat on the bed. Alice rolled onto her back, brushed the hair out of her eyes, and laughed. Leisha’s ears closed against the sound. “Look at you,” Alice said. “You’d think it was you who was pregnant. But you never would be, would you, Leisha? Not until it was the proper time. Not you.”
    “How?” Leisha said. “We both had our caps put in….”
    “I had the cap removed,” Alice said.
    “You wanted to get pregnant?”
    “Damn flash I did. And there’s not a thing Daddy can do about it. Except, of course, cut off all credit completely, but I don’t think he’ll do that, do you?” She laughed again. “Even to me?”
    “But Alice…why? Not just to anger Daddy!”
    “No,” Alice said. “Although you would think of that, wouldn’t you? Because I want something to love. Something of my own . Something that has nothing to do with this house.”
    Leisha thought of herself and Alice running through the conservatory, years ago, her and Alice, darting in and out of the sunlight. “It hasn’t been so bad growing up in this house.”
    “Leisha, you’re stupid. I don’t know how anyone so smart can be so stupid. Get out of my room! Get out!”
    “But Alice—a baby —”
    “Get out!” Alice shrieked. “Go to Harvard! Go be successful! Just get out!”
    Leisha jerked off the bed. “Gladly! You’re irrational, Alice. You don’t think ahead, you don’t plan, a baby —” But she could never sustain anger. It dribbled away, leaving her mind empty. She looked at Alice, who suddenly put out her arms. Leisha went into them.
    “You’re the baby,” Alice said wonderingly. “You are . You’re so…I don’t know what. You’re a baby .”
    Leisha said nothing. Alice’s arms felt warm, felt whole, felt like twochildren running in and out of sunlight. “I’ll help you, Alice. If Daddy won’t.”
    Alice abruptly pushed her away. “I don’t need your help.”
    Alice stood. Leisha rubbed her empty arms, fingertips scraping across opposite elbows. Alice kicked the empty, open trunk in which she was supposed to pack for Northwestern, and then abruptly smiled a smile that made Leisha look away. She braced herself for more abuse. But what Alice said, very softly, was, “Have a good time at Harvard.”

5
    S he loved it.
    From the first sight of Massachusetts Hall, older than the United States by a half century, Leisha felt something that had been missing in Chicago: Age. Roots. Tradition. She touched the bricks of Widener Library, the glass cases in the Peabody Museum, as if they were the grail. She had never been particularly sensitive to myth or drama; the anguish of Juliet seemed to her artificial, that of Willy Loman merely wasteful. Only King Arthur, struggling to create a better social order, had interested her. But now, walking under the huge autumn trees, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a force that could span generations, fortunes left to endow learning and achievement the benefactors would never see, individual effort spanning and shaping centuries to come. She stopped, and