had lately, she’ll actually think about selling out.”
Cesar catches no more of their conversation.
She’s not married.
He is ridiculously pleased by that fact.
“But there’s no way she stays single pining for my sorry self,” Cesar tells himself, trying to shake the optimistic little daydream of reconciliation out of his head.
He remembers their parting and the angry words she’d said. Perhaps after marrying a worthless specimen like himself, she decided that getting another man in her life just wasn’t worth the hassle? He can certainly understand that.
Cesar quietly returns to his room in the bunkhouse to try sleeping. He tells himself that he will leave this place as soon as he is better. Obviously, Penelope and Trevor are doing just fine without him. Telling the boy that his father has been alive all this time will only cause them pain.
On the other hand, there is something not quite right about that party, something a little ominous. And what was all this about sabotage attempts and trouble in the colony?
Perhaps he better stick around a little while to make sure Penelope and Trevor are all right? Cesar knows that what he really wants to do is stay right here and watch his wife and son greedily, like a housewife obsessed with her favorite Ether reality show. He is glad for any excuse to indulge that desire.
Much later in the night, Cesar hears doors shutting and the bustle of people going to bed after the party. He hears whispering voices, mostly women but a few men. He works so hard to keep himself from wondering if some man is spending the night with Penelope that he doesn’t sleep a wink.
CHAPTER FIVE
F or the next two days, Cesar does nothing but sleep fitfully and drink the never-ending stream of soup Lupe pours into him. Although Lupe practically raised him from infancy, she shows no sign of recognizing him. This depresses him even more. Cesar feels like a ghost, haunting his old life.
Finally, his fever breaks. On the third morning, he watches the reflected glow of the sun light up this little world. He finally feels human again, or at least human enough to desperately want to get out of bed and get clean. He hears footsteps approaching.
“No more nonsense. Today we put him in the medibox, Lupe,” he hears Penelope say resolutely as she approaches. He can hear her determined stride, matched by the rushing steps of Lupe.
“Ach, mija . Those mediboxes are just coffins. You can’t trust them. Lasers and scans and computers poking you. They are no match for rest and good food.” Lupe is vehement in her dislike of the orbital solution to the lack of medical personnel and equipment.
Mediboxes were so reliable that every Spacer and Earther who could afford one had them, even if they were a bit claustrophobic. Although most of the time, a Spacer medibox would recommend diet and exercise modifications in keeping with Spacer’s rabid dislike of “unnatural” remedies.
“Besides, my soup will cure him. My soup can cure anything,” Lupe declares righteously. “If he doesn’t die first.”
The door opens and both women peer in at him. Cesar has never seen Lupe in anything but the colorful skirts and ornately embroidered blouses she loved. Today is no different.
When he was little, Lupe told him that her skirts reminded her of who she was and where she came from. That was something he could stand to remember now and then, she would inevitably add.
Penelope is wearing a pair of the multi-pocketed pants much favored by Spacer women. The legs are cut to fall in folds like a skirt. They have drawstrings to gather them tight to the ankle for the lower gravities where a skirt is an unfortunate fashion choice.
Lupe flatly refuses to wear them. But then, she has not left Ithaca in decades. She even refuses to visit the storage level. Weightlessness is her worst nightmare. Cesar could never understand what convinced her to leave the Earth in the first place.
“You look pretty bright-eyed
Cesar catches no more of their conversation.
She’s not married.
He is ridiculously pleased by that fact.
“But there’s no way she stays single pining for my sorry self,” Cesar tells himself, trying to shake the optimistic little daydream of reconciliation out of his head.
He remembers their parting and the angry words she’d said. Perhaps after marrying a worthless specimen like himself, she decided that getting another man in her life just wasn’t worth the hassle? He can certainly understand that.
Cesar quietly returns to his room in the bunkhouse to try sleeping. He tells himself that he will leave this place as soon as he is better. Obviously, Penelope and Trevor are doing just fine without him. Telling the boy that his father has been alive all this time will only cause them pain.
On the other hand, there is something not quite right about that party, something a little ominous. And what was all this about sabotage attempts and trouble in the colony?
Perhaps he better stick around a little while to make sure Penelope and Trevor are all right? Cesar knows that what he really wants to do is stay right here and watch his wife and son greedily, like a housewife obsessed with her favorite Ether reality show. He is glad for any excuse to indulge that desire.
Much later in the night, Cesar hears doors shutting and the bustle of people going to bed after the party. He hears whispering voices, mostly women but a few men. He works so hard to keep himself from wondering if some man is spending the night with Penelope that he doesn’t sleep a wink.
CHAPTER FIVE
F or the next two days, Cesar does nothing but sleep fitfully and drink the never-ending stream of soup Lupe pours into him. Although Lupe practically raised him from infancy, she shows no sign of recognizing him. This depresses him even more. Cesar feels like a ghost, haunting his old life.
Finally, his fever breaks. On the third morning, he watches the reflected glow of the sun light up this little world. He finally feels human again, or at least human enough to desperately want to get out of bed and get clean. He hears footsteps approaching.
“No more nonsense. Today we put him in the medibox, Lupe,” he hears Penelope say resolutely as she approaches. He can hear her determined stride, matched by the rushing steps of Lupe.
“Ach, mija . Those mediboxes are just coffins. You can’t trust them. Lasers and scans and computers poking you. They are no match for rest and good food.” Lupe is vehement in her dislike of the orbital solution to the lack of medical personnel and equipment.
Mediboxes were so reliable that every Spacer and Earther who could afford one had them, even if they were a bit claustrophobic. Although most of the time, a Spacer medibox would recommend diet and exercise modifications in keeping with Spacer’s rabid dislike of “unnatural” remedies.
“Besides, my soup will cure him. My soup can cure anything,” Lupe declares righteously. “If he doesn’t die first.”
The door opens and both women peer in at him. Cesar has never seen Lupe in anything but the colorful skirts and ornately embroidered blouses she loved. Today is no different.
When he was little, Lupe told him that her skirts reminded her of who she was and where she came from. That was something he could stand to remember now and then, she would inevitably add.
Penelope is wearing a pair of the multi-pocketed pants much favored by Spacer women. The legs are cut to fall in folds like a skirt. They have drawstrings to gather them tight to the ankle for the lower gravities where a skirt is an unfortunate fashion choice.
Lupe flatly refuses to wear them. But then, she has not left Ithaca in decades. She even refuses to visit the storage level. Weightlessness is her worst nightmare. Cesar could never understand what convinced her to leave the Earth in the first place.
“You look pretty bright-eyed
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