Day Zero - C. Robert Cargill Page 0,11

alarmed, but it threw the schedule entirely out of whack. Dinner had to be pushed back, there were considerations about Ezra’s bedtime to be discussed, and since the night’s dinner was red meat—clean-grown meat, of course, as Sylvia insisted on keeping the house cruelty-free in their consumption—it meant the red wine needed to be decanted later than usual.

Sylvia was laid-back about a lot of things, but her schedule was not one of them, so she was already tense and growing a bit unhinged before Bradley stepped through the door from the garage.

“I’m home!” he called from the kitchen.

Ezra immediately tore across the house. Ariadne was already waiting to claim his briefcase.

“Daddy!” Ezra called out.

“Ezzy!” Bradley called back, his beleaguered, exhausted expression washing away into a river of joy. He fell to one knee and hugged his son.

It wasn’t a daily occurrence for Ezra to be so excited to see his dad, but it had been an emotional day, and when Ezra was going through a lot, he sought out emotional support everywhere he could find it. And that was something both of his parents offered in spades.

There was a lot that could be said about Sylvia and Bradley—the opinions they held about others, their entitled indifference, their regular overconsumption of wine—but when it came to Ezra, they were saintly parents, both dedicated to raising him right and giving him space to explore becoming himself.

They were always mindful to evaluate my parameters on a weekly and monthly basis. A lot of parents would forget to do that with their nannies, leaving their kids to be raised with guidelines meant for children years younger. Robotics companies were mindful of this and built a number of workarounds, but a handful of children regularly ended up suffering with preschool settings well into their preteens. But not Ezra. My parameters for Ezra were something of an up-to-the-minute response to whatever was happening in his life.

They loved him. They loved him so terribly much.

And no matter what hassle Bradley had encountered on his way home, seeing Ezra melted that off his soul like a blast furnace.

“What was the holdup?” asked Sylvia bitterly as she sulked into the room. She wasn’t mad. But she sure as hell wasn’t happy.

“Protesters shut down the highways,” said Bradley. “Those goddamn redhats.”

“Oh, not this again.”

“Again?”

“I believe she’s referring to my being accosted earlier,” said Ariadne.

“Someone accosted you?” He peered at her paint job, noticing the scratches and slight dents, as well as discolorations where I couldn’t quite get all the paint off. He burst all at once. “Aria! What the hell happened to you?”

“Those gosh darn redhats,” said Sylvia with a glare.

Bradley did the mental math and realized those weren’t the words he used. He gave a quick, sheepish, apologetic smile to Ezra, silently mouthing, Oops. Then he turned his attentions back to Ariadne. “Aria, did they attack you?”

“Yes, Bradley,” she said. “I’m afraid they did.”

“Oh my word. I want you to get in the shop as soon as possible, you hear me? I want them to do a full workup on you.”

“I already have half a dozen estimates for your approval.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her on the cheek, then he turned back to Ezra. “And what about you? What did you learn at school today?”

Sylvia immediately started drawing a slit across her throat, signaling him to kill that line of questioning. “Today was a hard day at school, but we talked about it and we’re okay with it, right?”

Ezra nodded.

“Ez, why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner?”

Ezra nodded again and bounded off for the bathroom.

“Pounce,” said Bradley, “is there anything I need to know?”

“They explained Isaactown to the children today; many of them mistook it as being told that their nannies were leaving, Ezra included.”

“Ah.” He chewed on that for a second. “But you assured him you weren’t?”

“Correct, Bradley.”

“Good, good.”

“I’m going to have a word with Mrs. Winters in the morning about this,” said Sylvia. “This was totally inappropriate.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You don’t think we should have been consulted? Or at least signed a permission form? One email is all I ask.”

“No, that’s fair. But . . .” He trailed off for a second.

“But what?”

“I had a dog when I was his age.”

“Willow,” said Ariadne.

“Yeah. I loved that dog. When she died, I was destroyed. Wrecked for weeks.”

“I don’t want Ezra to go through that,” said Sylvia.

“Me either. But it’s part of why I appreciate you two so much. All of you. Life is fleeting. Precious.