to think about something else. Kane, a childhood friend who lived just a few houses from there, came to mind quickly enough. Though she could picture his face, no particular emotion was attached to his memory.
Outside was a land of darkness. At a loss for words, Nan came to a standstill and hugged her own shoulders. The autumn night had been lying in wait for her, armed with a terrible chill. It was a coldness that pierced her to the very bone, and she couldn’t recall another like it. Without knowing why, Nan looked up to the heavens. Stars glittered in the night sky, each as sharp as the point of an awl. The wind whisked across a grove in a scene that hadn’t changed at all since she was a child. It greeted her the same way now. It’ll be hard-cider season soon , Nan thought hazily. But before she knew it, the chill was gone and she was left all alone.
.
III
.
Old Mrs. Sheldon’s house was at the west end of the orchards. All of the evergreen grass bowed in unison with the breeze, changing the shape of the ground and hills every time they bent. The dilapidated old house with a weathervane on its red roof looked like the perfect place for a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old crone to pass her lonely later years.
Mrs. Sheldon was sitting in a rocking chair on her front porch. Years must’ve passed since the last time anybody came to see her. Aside from the fact that her last callers had been schoolchildren, the old woman couldn’t recall anything about that visit. From time to time the face of a gray-haired old man flitted through her mind, but she didn’t understand why it made her feel strangely nostalgic. The fact that he was the man whose gravestone stood on the top of the little hill out back was something she’d long since forgotten. Thanks to a cyborg-conversion procedure she’d undergone more than a century earlier, all she needed now was to have her nutrient-enriched blood changed once every thirty years. Perhaps that was the reason people from town rarely called on her. That morning, as the old woman rocked back and forth for the two thousandth some-odd time, she saw someone for the first time in who-knew-how-many days.
Dismounting, D headed over to the old woman sitting in her antiquated but sturdy-looking rocking chair. “Mrs. Sheldon?” he asked.
“That’s me. And you are?” the woman replied without a second’s delay, watching D’s face for a while before she smiled at him. “I’ve lost my touch. Back in the old days, I used to catch everyone off-guard when I shot back an answer real quick like that, whereas now they all take me for some sleepy old dotard who don’t know which way is up no more.”
“I came out here to ask you about something. They call me D.”
“A name like that seems to say you come from somewhere else, and you’ll be moving on soon. Of course, before you turn to leave, I reckon a lot of folks will be dying or crying. Step inside.” Slowly getting up out of her seat, the old woman opened the door before her.
The interior was well-kept. Motes of dust dancing up in the morning light glittered like flecks of gold.
“Have a seat over there,” the old woman said, indicating a chair as she headed for the kitchen. “I’ll fix us some tea.”
“Thank you.”
The old woman disappeared, letting the door bang shut on its own, but soon enough she returned with a pair of steaming cups on a tray. “I got this from a merchant from the Capital fifty years ago. You know, I’d never use it for any of the folks from town. It’s just for special visitors from far away.”
“How do you know I’ve come far?” D asked, looking not at the cup her light brown and thoroughly creased hand had set in front of him, but at a face that seemed wrought entirely with wrinkles.
“You figure any man with the look you’ve got in your eye could stay put in just one village?” Pounding the small of her back a few times, the old woman settled into a chair. “You see, human beings
Outside was a land of darkness. At a loss for words, Nan came to a standstill and hugged her own shoulders. The autumn night had been lying in wait for her, armed with a terrible chill. It was a coldness that pierced her to the very bone, and she couldn’t recall another like it. Without knowing why, Nan looked up to the heavens. Stars glittered in the night sky, each as sharp as the point of an awl. The wind whisked across a grove in a scene that hadn’t changed at all since she was a child. It greeted her the same way now. It’ll be hard-cider season soon , Nan thought hazily. But before she knew it, the chill was gone and she was left all alone.
.
III
.
Old Mrs. Sheldon’s house was at the west end of the orchards. All of the evergreen grass bowed in unison with the breeze, changing the shape of the ground and hills every time they bent. The dilapidated old house with a weathervane on its red roof looked like the perfect place for a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old crone to pass her lonely later years.
Mrs. Sheldon was sitting in a rocking chair on her front porch. Years must’ve passed since the last time anybody came to see her. Aside from the fact that her last callers had been schoolchildren, the old woman couldn’t recall anything about that visit. From time to time the face of a gray-haired old man flitted through her mind, but she didn’t understand why it made her feel strangely nostalgic. The fact that he was the man whose gravestone stood on the top of the little hill out back was something she’d long since forgotten. Thanks to a cyborg-conversion procedure she’d undergone more than a century earlier, all she needed now was to have her nutrient-enriched blood changed once every thirty years. Perhaps that was the reason people from town rarely called on her. That morning, as the old woman rocked back and forth for the two thousandth some-odd time, she saw someone for the first time in who-knew-how-many days.
Dismounting, D headed over to the old woman sitting in her antiquated but sturdy-looking rocking chair. “Mrs. Sheldon?” he asked.
“That’s me. And you are?” the woman replied without a second’s delay, watching D’s face for a while before she smiled at him. “I’ve lost my touch. Back in the old days, I used to catch everyone off-guard when I shot back an answer real quick like that, whereas now they all take me for some sleepy old dotard who don’t know which way is up no more.”
“I came out here to ask you about something. They call me D.”
“A name like that seems to say you come from somewhere else, and you’ll be moving on soon. Of course, before you turn to leave, I reckon a lot of folks will be dying or crying. Step inside.” Slowly getting up out of her seat, the old woman opened the door before her.
The interior was well-kept. Motes of dust dancing up in the morning light glittered like flecks of gold.
“Have a seat over there,” the old woman said, indicating a chair as she headed for the kitchen. “I’ll fix us some tea.”
“Thank you.”
The old woman disappeared, letting the door bang shut on its own, but soon enough she returned with a pair of steaming cups on a tray. “I got this from a merchant from the Capital fifty years ago. You know, I’d never use it for any of the folks from town. It’s just for special visitors from far away.”
“How do you know I’ve come far?” D asked, looking not at the cup her light brown and thoroughly creased hand had set in front of him, but at a face that seemed wrought entirely with wrinkles.
“You figure any man with the look you’ve got in your eye could stay put in just one village?” Pounding the small of her back a few times, the old woman settled into a chair. “You see, human beings
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