The Dream Widow Read Free Page B

people were alive, so many smart people, but even the ones with brilliant minds were stuck in the past and eager to drive their lives off a cliff like a runaway train. Don’t think I was any different. I joined the army just like the old man, and like his old man before that.”
    “But why fight each other? Why not just live your lives?” asked Wilson.
    “How long is a piece of string? I don’t have the answer. Man hasn’t changed, even three hundred years later. We fight to survive, not just for ourselves but to live better than the other guy. Everyone who climbed into these caskets wanted to survive, too. They would have been better-off aboveground.”
    “You mean the survivors in the bunkers? The founders of Station?”
    “No, the smart ones––the scientists. Some entered the caskets and the rest drove south to New Mexico.”
    “I don’t understand why anyone would leave when everything was falling apart.”
    “A few had families in the south. Only some of the research was here at Altmann, like the implants for astronauts and the hibernation caskets. The operational facility––the actual project––needed lots of open space. I never went there myself.”
    Wilson walked a long circle around the dome.
    “Jack, what happened to my father’s remains––the implants that Reed brought to you?”
    “They’re in storage, reconfigured and waiting for a new host.”
    “Can I see them?”
    “Sure, why not,” said Jack. “Give me a second.”
    Wilson waited in darkness lit only by the aquamarine sparkles from Jack’s dome. After a few minutes a door slid open somewhere high in the cavern. A spider arm hissed down from a wall, a silver tray between the sharp metal hooks. On red, spongy material lay three objects: a narrow cylinder, a sphere the size of a plum, and a small tube. All were yellow-white and covered with faint, delicate lines.
    Wilson brushed his fingers over the implants. “I missed the funeral.”
    “At least you were there at the end,” said Jack. “My old man’s Blackhawk crashed in Kandahar and they kept it secret. He didn’t write or call and I hated him for three whole months until the Hug Squad showed up and said he’d been killed. I thought he didn’t want to talk to me.”
    “My father was shot by tribals,” said Wilson. “It was my fault. He was trying to help me.”
    “Sounds like a bad situation. I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. He got killed for a stupid reason. If he’d been more selfish I’d still have a father.”
    “A father who doesn’t help his son isn’t much of one,” said Jack.
    “He wasn’t much of one in the first place,” said Wilson. He turned and walked toward the stairwell. “I should be getting back.”
    “Don’t leave without your present.”
    Another spider-leg zipped down from the wall and dropped a paper box in Wilson’s hands, navy blue in color and tied with brilliant white ribbon.
    Wilson opened the box. On a white cloth lay two silver bracelets, covered with a faint and complex pattern of etched squares.
    “Congratulations. I made them myself,” said Jack.
    “Really?”
    “No, not really. Does it look like I can even scratch my nose? I’m a freak under glass. It’s funny––the old man always told me to run away and join a circus, and now look at me.”
    “Thanks, Jack.”
    “The bracelets came from an old locker. There’s something really important about them. Something you have to do, or should never do. I think it was never get them wet. I can’t remember.”
    “Okay ...”
    “Sorry. In the old days couples traded rings during a wedding. I thought you might like these anyway.”
    “I do. I’m sure Badger will, too.” Wilson rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I need to get some sleep.”
    “One more thing,” said Jack. “Now that I know you better––”
    “You want a few ladies brought here for your amusement?”
    “No, that would only make it worse,” said Jack. “The thing is ... I’m dying.”
    “What? I