Come Alive Ch. 27

Part I

Henry was sitting up now, resting on a pile of pillows behind his back and neck and trying to ignore his chirping iPhone. New text messages were coming in left and right and he knew he should read them all -- but while a few were supportive more than one had been annoying. Friends from high school, a roommate from college, people he'd worked with...somehow word had slipped out that he was on his way out and people he hadn't heard from in years suddenly had his contact information and they all suddenly wanted to bye.

Then an email came in from an address he wasn't expecting, one he hadn't seen in years, the ex-head of the team he had consulted for at Boeing: "Henry? Can you give me a call at the old number?" the cryptic message read.

No number, no other identifier, so Dr. Collins must be using the same number he'd always used. He went into Contacts and found the listing, then hit send.

"Henry? That you?"

"Yessir. What can I do for you today?"

"What the hell is S.V. Time Bandits?"

"Sir?"

"That's what came up on my screen when my phone rang. I mean really, Henry...Time Bandits?"

"That's the name of my boat, Dr. Collins."

"So, you steal the name of my favorite movie and use it for your boat? That figures."

"I thought you'd like it."

"Didn't your dad have a boat with a name like that?"

"Yessir. Just Bandit, though."

"Oh yeah, I remember. He was a stockbroker, wasn't he?"

"No sir. Lawyer."

"Well hell...that's almost as bad. Your mother was a physician though, at least if I recall correctly."

"Yessir."

"Well, that must be where you got your brains."

"You're probably right about that, sir."

"Henry, I heard some troubling news about you last night. You aren't doing well, I understand."

"I've been better, sir."

"I can imagine. I've also heard some weenie waggers from the Naval War College are after you. That true?"

"Yessir, but they're pretty harmless, really. At least so far."

"I just need to know, Henry. You haven't told anyone, right?"

"No sir. I've left all kinds of decoys out there, but nothing substantive."

"So we don't have anything to worry about on our end?"

"Just one thing, sir. I had a visitor a couple of nights ago. A sphere, but not from the Main Group."

"Describe it."

"About a foot in diameter, translucent and reflective at the same time, and with some kind of electrical activity just visible inside."

"What about an eye? See anything like that in there?"

"Sir? You know about this one?"

"I take it that means yes."

"Yessir. And they seem to have the ability..."

"To index our brains. Access our memories. That was our impression, too."

"What about Dink? What does he know about them?"

"Vicious. That's how he described them."

"Great. Lockheed did that one, right? So, anyone know why they're picking on me?"

"We're not sure."

"Would you like me to call if they show up again?"

"No, we've got that covered now. You just take care, Henry. Oh, mine is in the pancreas, so I'll be seeing you soon enough."

"Sorry to hear that, sir. And before I forget, I think they drew blood while they were here."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, yes. Both me and my dog. The puncture was pretty crude and both are showing signs of infection."

He heard the old man breathing hard, then he was talking to someone in the background -- then -- "Henry, call me in an hour at the Beta number."

"Yessir," Taggart said, but by then the line had already gone dead.

"What was that all about?" Tracy said, coming into his stateroom and carrying a cup of tea.

"Another condolence call."

"Ah. Have you heard anything from Anton?" she asked as she passed over the cup.

"They had to sit out some weather in Copenhagen. Heavy ice over southern Norway, but they're up again and due to arrive at Bergen in about an hour."

"How's the tea?"

"Is that the cardamom?"

"Yup."

"Man, I love this stuff."

She smiled. "You want to try to eat something today?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Mom wants to put up a Christmas tree..."

"Of course she does."

"On the foredeck."

"No, that's not gonna happen. A little one will fit on the chart table, just make sure she doesn't scratch the wood with some kind of bullshit stand."

She nodded. "Okay. Now the big question...what do you want for Christmas?"

He chuckled at that. "Oh, right," he grinned, "well, let me think. Actually, I've been a pretty bad boy this year so maybe you ought to bring me a few lumps of coal..."

She laughed. "Ya know, I just knew you were going to ask for a Bulgari chronograph."

"And my guess is Anton planted that seed, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"Russians have a thing for Bulgari. Maybe you'd better run out and see if there's one around here. That would blow his mind."

"Seriously?"

"Why not? I ain't taking any of it with me, Tracy, and seeing the look in his eyes will be worth the price of admission."

"You're a lunatic, Hank."

"Thanks. I do try."

"I suppose you have stuff for everyone else?"

He nodded -- and a split second later a pink sphere winked into existence over his bed...

Tracy screamed and jumped back.

"It's okay, Tracy, I know this one."

"That's what you said last time..."

"Would you, uh, close the door on your way out?"

"What?"

"This is going to be personal, kiddo."

Tracy seemed a little offended, but she backed out of his stateroom, closing the door as she went, and as soon as the latch clicked Pinky materialized on the bed. She reached out and rubbed Clyde's head, but her eyes never left his.

"Let me see the wound," she said, and he held out his arm. The area just around the puncture was bright red now and raised a little, and after she felt his skin she produced a little bag and took out some tape and wrapped it around the area. "Where is the one on Clyde?"

Henry felt for it then held it out for her to examine. "Right here," he added.

She taped that wound, too. "It will take several hours for this to work, but you will feel very good for several days before the effect wears off."

He nodded. "How's the doc?" he asked, because she'd obviously just spoken with Collins.

She shook her head. "Not well, but he is still, what do you call it? Sharp? As a tack?"

"Yup. This other group? Are they going to cause any problems?"

"Not for you, Henry."

"But the rest of the group?"

"You are the first they have tried to hurt. I doubt you will be the last."

"What was it?" Henry asked, looking at his arm.

"More than likely a genetic weapon that is, we assume, supposed to bring on rapid onset dementia."

"How sweet. I wonder why they hit Clyde with that stuff?"

"They have no idea what dogs are capable of, so I would assume they were just being thorough."

"What do they look like?" he asked.

"Like grayish-brown lizard-people, only about a foot tall. And oh yes, and they shit out their mouths."

"Say what?"

"Yes, so don't ever get into a shouting match with one of them."

Taggart nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Henry, I must warn you. You are going to feel very good for two, maybe three days, but then the bottom will fall out. Do you understand?"

He nodded again.

"Now, one last question. When you first saw them, where was their sphere?"

"Underwater, just off the back of the boat? Like an eye..."

She shook her head and stood semi-erect. "Damn. I must go now, but I will be back tonight, after everyone has gone to sleep" -- and then in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

He took a sip of tea and called out for Tracy; the door opened instantly -- so she had been listening to everything they said.

"Do you think your mom could make me an omelet?" he asked.

"Sure? Anything in it?"

"Gruyere and mushrooms?"

That caused an eyebrow to arch. "You sure?"

"Yup. And when you head out to look for that thing for Anton, see if you can rustle up some Viagra while you're at it..."

"What?"

"You got wax in your ears, girl?"

Part II

Henry felt his phone vibrate on his lap and picked it up; he looked at the text and read through it quickly, then looked up at Tracy. "Take my credit card, see what you can find for him. You know, something he'll remember twenty years from now. And maybe a scarf from Hermes for your mom."

"Really? Mom?"

"Yeah. Something loud and obnoxious. Orange, maybe."

"Well, there's a Bulgari Store over by the Arc, but Hank, are you really sure you want me to do this?"

Henry crossed his hands over his lap and sighed. "Take a taxi, Tracy, and stay off the Metro, for god's sake. And call me if you have any questions."

"Okay. I'll be gone a while, so..."

"And I'll be here when you get back."

She smiled and left him looking at his phone again. It was from Rolf this time; he and Dina were at the airport in Bergen waiting at the general aviation terminal by the heliport. "Do you know when Anton should get here?" read Rolf's latest and more than nervous text.

"Should get there in the next half hour or so," he replied, then he went into contacts and found the information for the team's old Beta site and called Dr. Collins again.

"Henry, that you already?"

"Yessir."

"Had a visitor yet?"

"Come and gone, sir. And thank you. They've been hard to reach lately."

"Yeah, well, they're pulling out faster than a Texan down in Boy's Town. Can't say I blame 'em, really."

"Understood, sir."

"If you're around Christmas morning, give me a call. If not, I'll see you when I see you."

Henry sighed and his eyes watered a little. "Yessir. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Henry."

He put the phone down just as a new text chirped, so he picked it up and looked at the screen again. Anton had written: "Enter pattern, have 5 Bars, on ground maybe 10 minutes."

"Got it," he replied, and then he sent the information on to Rolf -- who instantly shot back a happy face emoji.

"What a world this has turned into," he said to himself -- just as Edith popped her head in the door to his stateroom. "So, there she is, Miss America," Henry crooned.

And she smiled this time. "She reminds you of Claire, doesn't she?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. You'll always have that market cornered."

"But...you love her, right?"

"You could say that."

"She told me everything, you know. About that company in McLean, all of it."

Henry nodded. "She told me. Yesterday."

"So you two cleared the air?"

"Yes, I think so. Well, I hope so, anyway."

Edith came in and sat on the edge of his bed, then she took a deep breath. "That's why I came, you know? I wanted to make sure she wasn't going to do anything that could really hurt you."

"I figured that might have something to do with it. Your heart was always in the right place, Edith."

"But, yes, I know, sometimes my head wasn't."

"Maybe so," he sighed.

"If I ask you an important question will you give me a straight answer?"

He grinned. "Don't take roundings on me, Edith. Just say what you came to say."

"Okay," she said as she turned away for a moment. "One thing has bothered me, Henry, but I need to know..."

"Did I ever really love you?"

"Yes."

"Of course I did, Edith. How could I not? You saved my life -- once upon a time -- and none of this could have happened without you and me and the times we had."

"So...why Tracy?"

He'd known this question was coming and he still wasn't sure how to answer it...so he just dove in and said what he needed to say: "Let's just call it a gift, Edith, and let it go at that."

"Let it go," she whispered. "I never really thought things between us could get so messed up."

"Yeah. You know, for a year or so I thought everything came pretty easy between us."

"There isn't a day goes by, Henry, when I don't think of all we shared."

"What's your favorite memory?"

"You and me and that week up at Snowbird. The Cliff Lodge, skiing Chip's Run off the gondola."

"The roast goose in the restaurant," he added. "Looking out that wall of glass at the falling snow while we ate dinner."

"The lingonberry sauce?" she added, smiling. "You remember that too, don't you?"

"How could anyone forget?" he smiled. "You were perfect that week."

"We were perfect, Henry."

He nodded. "Yes, we were." While it lasted, he didn't need to say. "I wanted it to last forever."

"I was a fool," she said, looking away.

"We are what we are, Edith. We can't fight it -- no one can."

"What? Being manipulative and a scheming backstabber?"

He smiled. "Thanks for not making me say that."

"Everyone knew that about me, Henry, even then. Everyone but you, that is."

"Maybe because I put you up on the same pedestal I'd put Claire on."

"And I loved it up there. You made me feel like...oh, I don't know, like royalty, like some kind of princess no one but you could have."

"Me. The dumb jock. The linebacker..."

"I used to love watching you play, Henry. You owned that field."

"I weighed a hundred and twelve pounds yesterday, Edith."

"I know. Thank you for letting me stay."

His phone chirped and an image of Anton and Rolf standing on the wing of a Beech Baron as a light snow fell on the airport in Bergen filled his screen. "Hey, look at you!" he wrote.

"This is SO AWESOME!" Rolf replied. "Thanks!"

"Enjoy the flight!"

"Is that Anton?" Edith asked, looking at Henry as he entered another text.

"Yes, they made it. Only an hour late, too."

"Tell me about Dina?"

"She was my oncologist in Norway, and she turned out to be a more than competent sailor, too."

"Then a match made in heaven?"

"No, not really. A marriage of inconvenience more than anything else."

"Really? And are you sure she doesn't still love you?"

"Dina? She hates my guts, Edith. You'll see," he said, then he started humming again...

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I bring out the worst in some people, Edith. Dina is one of them."

"I'll believe that when I see it. And why do you keep humming that dreadful piece of music?"

He shook his head. "Man, I don't know. I keep hearing the same thing over and over again, but I can't even remember where I've heard it before."

"Such a depressing piece. I can't believe you'd remember that one, of all the music out there."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Of course I do. You mean...you don't?"

"No, I have no idea. Tell me, please."

"It's called the Theresienstadt Concerto, or Schwarzwald's Third Piano Concerto. She was a Dane, I think. Imogen Schwarzwald, I seem to recall. She was a physicist and taught at Berkeley about the same time you were there. Funny you haven't made the connection..."

Part III

"Schwarzwald?" Taggart whispered, then he looked up at Edith again. "Quantum mechanics. Yeah, I had her for Quantum Mechanics, and I remember she was into QTT in a big way. She was a weird one, too, but I don't think I had any idea she wrote music."

"QTT?

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, quantum time travel. She was always coming up with weird stuff about that crap."

"I see. So you heard the music somewhere else, but even so it's strange you'd be hearing that one in your mind."

"Strange? Why's that?"

"The subject matter, I suppose. The work is supposed to be about her experiences in the Theresienstadt ghetto during the war..."

"Ghetto? I thought it was a concentration camp?"

Edith nodded. "I suppose it was, but anyway, her music grates on my nerves. I heard it at the Hollywood Bowl years ago, right after von Karajan released that retrospective of her works."

Taggart pulled up the music app on his phone and found the von Karajan set and downloaded it -- just as another image popped up in Messages. Anton had moved into one of the Baron's rear seats, allowing Rolf to sit right seat while Sophie handled the flying chores solo, and Henry watched a short video clip of their takeoff, with Rolf's hands on the yoke -- following through on Sophie's movements -- and Henry could see the interest in the boy's movements and he smiled.

"Sounds like an airplane," Edith said.

"Anton. They're leaving Norway now."

"So...six hours 'til they get back?"

"Not quite," he grinned. "They're taking a longer route to stay over land, and they'll need to refuel, too. But the plane needs to be back by midnight, one way or another."

"Oh? Why's that? Don't tell me...it turns into a pumpkin...?"

He smiled."Not quite. Some local air freight operation uses it a few nights a week, something like that. Anton is building up hours with them, too."

That kind of talk bored Edith quickly, and he could tell she was going to change subjects and grinned. 'Some things never change,' he sighed.

"Your skin looks better today, Henry."

"Yeah, the platelets must've kicked in. As a matter of fact I feel pretty good today, too."

"Can I get you something besides the omelet? Some tea, perhaps?"

He looked at his watch and shook his head. "Let's wait 'til Tracy gets back; maybe we can head out and grab a PBJ somewhere..."

Edith shook her head. "Only you would come to Paris and get worked up over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich..."

+++++

They helped him out to the salon and when he saw the Christmas tree he stopped and smiled. "Nice," he said as he nodded his approval to Edith. "Looks like we need more presents under there, or Christmas morning could be a bust."

"You want me to hang stockings too, Henry?" Edith said, grinning.

"Sure, why not. Think you could handle that?"

"I bet I could."

He looked at his watch again, mindful of Rolf and Dina's arrival, then to Tracy. "Where to?"

"How 'bout the Irish place again?"

He nodded. "And maybe I can hold down my food tonight?"

"Maybe," Edith snarled, "we could talk about something other than flying saucers!"

"That sounds like a plan," Tracy added -- nervously.

"Speaking of," Edith crabbed as she started up the companionway. "Anyone heard from that Navy jack ass?"

"Mike? No, I haven't," Henry said as he started up behind Edith, and when he got to the cockpit he helped Clyde up the last few steps then leashed him up. "You feel up to this, buddy?"

His tail wagged and he 'woofed' once, so that was that.

"You gonna try some snails tonight?" he added, looking the pup in the eye...

And that was good for a barely detectable grade-A fart.

"Right. A simple no would have done it."

It was a little after three in the afternoon and the sky was gray, the clouds low and thick, and sunset about an hour away -- yet the little park around the marina looked different just now. Almost sinister, and when he saw the hair on Clyde's neck standing on end a shiver ran down Henry's spine.

"Does something feel -- different -- to any of you," Tracy asked, looking up through the trees at low-scudding clouds and bare limbs dancing on a stiffening breeze, "or is it just me?"

Clyde growled, deep and low, and his chest stiffened as he positioned himself protectively in front of the women. Henry remembered Clyde had the same tape around his arm and immediately understood, but even so Clyde's reaction was as priceless as it was troubling.

"I feel it too," Edith whispered.

"Do you think we should go back to the boat?" Tracy asked, now looking at Clyde, too.

Henry shook his head. "Come on, y'all...it ain't Halloween so let's get a move on."

A light snow started to fall, but then thunder rolled over the city.

And then it hit him.

"Do you hear any cars out there?" Henry asked Tracy, and then they stopped and looked at one another.

"No, I don't."

She took his hand and they walked to the marina gates and all the while the snow started coming down harder, and no one noticed the completely translucent sphere following them up there among the treetops.

And yet there was already enough snow on the old cobbles to deaden the sound, and with traffic not yet fully back to normal it was enough to provide another layer of strangeness to this evening's elusive feel. Henry hailed a taxi and they rode to the pub in silence, the snow melting on their clothes in the heated Mercedes -- yet even that felt odd.