“You love her still.”
“I do not know,” Vel answers. “I have never been sure if I have the capacity. It is not an Ithtorian emotion.”
Maybe not love, then. But caring. Affection. Whatever word he chooses, it applies to what he shared with Adele. I finish my drink and clear our tab with the servo-bot, then it’s time to move along. We step back onto the public walk, only a short distance from Adele’s flat now. Given what he told me, I can’t imagine what this is like for him, but he’s determined. I follow in his wake as the crowd eddies around him. The stares still bother me, but I don’t start anything. On Gehenna, people don’t remember my face like they do on New Terra. It would be a mistake to make myself notorious here as well.
Then I’m standing outside, gazing up. Unerringly, I find the row of glastique windows along the top. Mary, I was so happy there; sleeping right up against the windowpanes reminded me of flying. It was the only time I’ve ever been content when I wasn’t jumping. The rest of the building is an artistic nightmare, and as I recall, the lifts don’t work. There’s no security to speak of, so we pass inside unquestioned and walk up the flights to her apartment.
Vel touches the panel beside her door, but instead of asking who it is, she buzzes us in. She always had a whisper of prescience about her—and I hope it’s kicking in now. Otherwise, she’s too trusting for her own good. I step into the flat, which smells of tea and good fruit marmalade. She has a tray waiting on the table in her salon, but she does not get up. As I step closer, I see the lap robe tucked across her legs. She has aged visibly since the last time I saw her, more gray in her hair, and her skin has gone sallow.
“Forgive me for not greeting you properly,” she says warmly. “But I’m not getting around as well as I once did.”
“Were you expecting us?” Vel asks.
“I said I’d see you again, didn’t I? I’m never wrong about these things.”
He crosses to press the side of his face to her cheek. The chip recognizes the gesture as akin to a kiss, at least in Ithtorian terms. She touches the hinge of his mandible with familiar tenderness, her milky eyes lit with such joy that it hurts me to look at them. I sit down and take a cup to give my hands something to do, doctoring it with sweetener to avoid violating their privacy.
Vel clicks to her, and the translation software can’t process it, but even without interpretation, I sense it’s a sound of deep and abiding affection.
“Will we meet again?” he asks.
Adele shakes her head. “At last the time has come to say good-bye, my dear.”
“How can you know that?” I don’t mean to interrupt, but the question stands.
“That is my gift—and my curse. The knowing.”
“Are you saying you’re Psi?” That would explain a lot.
“I’d never say that because it would mean I broke the law by not turning myself over to Psi-Corp for indoctrination and training. But if I were, well, it’s such a tiny little talent. I can’t foretell the fate of random strangers, only those I love.”
I smile. “I won’t tell, I promise.”
Vel takes a seat opposite me, visibly disturbed by talk of permanent farewell. To see her withered with age like this, it has to be awful for him. She was right to send him away, even if he was lonely, because he would’ve hated seeing her grow old, up close and personal. From the poetry of the story he shared earlier, he remembers the vibrant young woman she was instead of the dying flower she’s become. His claws flex against the arm of the chair, leaving jagged scratches in the polymer.
Adele pretends she doesn’t notice. “Come over here, Jax, and give me a kiss.”
Since she’s the mother I always wanted, I oblige. She hugs me, and her frailty sends a shock of horror through me. Beneath her loose robe, I can feel her bones. She’s brittle like a bird, as if precious little ties her to this life.
“Are you eating enough?” I ask, stepping back.
“Food doesn’t taste good anymore.”
That’s when I know for sure she’s dying. I’ve seen it before, and that’s the unwavering symptom. It hurts me even to think it, but she’ll be gone soon. Vel sits very still, his claws cutting deep into the arms of his chair. But it’s not in me to let people go without a fight.
“You have to try. I could fix you something.” I half rise to go check out her kitchen-mate, but she waves me down.
“No, I’ve seen the end. I’m just happy you came to see me off.”
We should offer to stand deathwatch, but before I can, Vel rises. “We should conclude our business with Dr. Carvati. Then we can return and do whatever is needed here.”
“If you need to go,” I tell Vel softly, “I understand. But I’m going to stay here for a little while.”
He offers a jerky nod. “I will catch up with you later, then.”
Vel springs for the door. When he moves quickly like that, it highlights his alien qualities. But I understand what drives him now. He needs to escape, so I just watch him leave, and when I turn back to her, there are tears in Adele’s eyes.
Heart twisting, I pour the tea and make some toast with her good marmalade. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine, child.” Not true, obviously. She’s dying. And she hates that Vel is hurting.
“Did you suspect?”
“That there was something different about him?”