if things hadn't been bad enough already." She looks up at me, challenging me to engage. I decide to go along.
"And what, exactly, does that mean?"
"My parents never had any interest in raising a joker. I was, um, embarrassing to them. They distanced themselves from me as much as they could. They called me their niece, said they'd taken me in after my own parents died."
"Charming. They must live in a world where image is more important than anything else."
She seems startled at my words. She nods slowly. "I had no idea I was an ace until it just sorta happened." Her eyes have gone dark, and her expression is bleak. "I thought he liked me, but he just wanted sex. And it happened almost instantly."
"What?"
"The eggs. It hurt so badly, I thought I was dying. I thought God was punishing me. That this was what happened to wretched little whores."
"I hear a quote in that." I find I'm suddenly fascinated, and furious at whoever would have said such a thing to a frightened teenager.
"My father." The words are spoken so quietly that I have to lean in to hear her.
She draws in a deep, shaky breath and forges ahead: "But the eggs hatched, and suddenly, I had kids. They were so wonderful. They bounced and laughed and flew around the house. They infuriated my parents and terrorized the help, but I didn't care, because they were my children and I loved them so intensely. And they loved me, too." Her voice is fierce, passionate. "I was simply delirious with joy. Until they died." The three words seem to hang in the air. "When my children died, my heart was crushed. My joy extinguished. I took it badly. I hurt myself."
Her tone is so dispassionate that I know she is holding back a storm of emotion. I don't know why I'm hearing this story, but I know I want to hear it all. I speak very softly as if I'm dealing with a frightened foal. "What did you do?"
"I tried to cut my tail off. I've never felt pain like that. It surged up my spine and erupted in my skull like magma. I passed out." She gets a crooked little smile. "It's funny. I've been in therapy for years and I just remembered this. As the floor was coming up to meet my face, I noticed the way my blood ran in little rivulets between the tiles, toward the bathtub. My last thought was how upset my parents would be when they learned their remodeled bathroom had an uneven floor."
I look down at the bumpy ridge where none of the bristly hair grew. "I presume they shipped you off shortly after that."
She nods. "And then they had the bathroom redone."
We stand in silence listening to the ocean's soft murmurs.
"Can Drake control himself?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go."
"Where?"
"I'm going to take you to meet a truly decent man."
"I think you're pretty decent."
"You'd be mistaken."
Dirge in a Major Key:
Part II
S. L. Farrell
THE CHINOOK WAS LOUD, crowded, and uncomfortable. Underneath them, lit only by starlight, sandy, low hills crawled toward the horizon and more hills emerged to replace them, until finally the sun rose to color the world red and then yellow. Rusty was in the chopper with him, along with four dozen UN troops and their officers, Lieutenant Bedeau among them. They wore flak jackets and helmets and carried live ammunition in their weapons, but there had still been no real resistance - not at Kuwait International, not at any of the places that Michael had been to in the endless parade of days and nights.
Michael had lost count of time. All the places in the Ar-Rumaylah field in southern Iraq were starting to look the same, blurring in his memory. The employees of each facility had packed up and left, leaving papers and half-eaten snacks on their desks. In each place, the wind wailed mournfully as it blew dun-colored sand between the buildings. The army of the Caliphate was an eternal no-show.
The other teams - Kate with Lohengrin in the Al-Burqan field in Kuwait; Tinker on the Az-Zuluf platforms out in the Gulf - reported the same: no resistance. The wellheads, the pumping stations, the pipelines, the refineries: they'd all been abandoned. Michael, Rusty, and their blue helmets would stay a day or two or three until UN contractors and support troops were sent in from HQ at Kuwait International, and then they'd be on to the next place.
The ease of the operation