Another Love Pt. 03-04

"How much is unique to us," she asked.

"Everything but the original concept. One advantage of the team we assembled is their smart and independent. As we speak, they are drawing her from scratch," I said.

"HER?"

"Persephone, the engine—our engine," I said knowing she was shaking her head at the crazies it took to run a university.

"Keep me informed and I will keep you in the loop," she said.

Lunch appeared from the faculty dining facility shortly after I got off the phone with the president, and they took orders for dinner.

"What gives?" asked more than one of my staff.

"You've become important. Enjoy it while it lasts."

We worked until 9:00 p.m. when I sent everyone home until 6:00 a.m. Monday morning. I now had armed guards to enforce the rules thanks to the administration, which had also begun to erect a barrier around the facility.

The last thing I did before leaving was remind Lis that someone would need to check on the geniuses Sunday night to make sure they were OK.

"Leave your phone on," she called after me.

When I entered the house, I found Karen waiting for me.

"Did you have dinner?" she asked.

"Yes, we kind of ordered in," I said without explaining. I realized I had said nothing to my wife about the most important development in my professional life.

"Are you avoiding us?" she asked.

We were in the kitchen at the back of the house. I could hear the guests at the front. It is an old house and sound travels oddly. You could hear the sounds of a large happy family enjoying their time together, but nothing of what they said.

"I've been working," I said.

"Late into the night on the weekend?"

"Yes."

She began to cry, "What do I have to do—to be forgiven. Do all our years together mean nothing?"

I wanted to take and hold her and tell her it would all be alright, but I would be lying, for in truth I had no idea where we were going. Things had changed so much in so short a time. We were standing on the threshold of a new and different life. To go forward, I needed to adapt to a new lifestyle and acknowledge that all that went before was not what it seemed to be.

Karen turned and left me standing alone in the kitchen. I could feel the weight of my fatigue on me, and the knowledge that I was deep in a dark and treacherous valley in both my life and my work. At that moment Aggie walked into the kitchen, followed by Karen's two cats. She looked up at me very proud of herself. In her mouth struggling was a very large field mouse.

I knew from experience that Aggie liked to play catch and release. A mouse might get numerous chances before it finally expired, but not this time, as she made one quick snap of her head, and the mouse stopped struggling. She laid her prize at my feet as if to say I am your cat, and this is your house. I have brought my prize to you. The other two cats came forward together and sniffed at the dead mouse and then turned and followed Aggie from the kitchen.

The top cat had come and shown who was in charge. She was right, my Aggie. She kept the house free of mice for me. This was my house, and she was my cat. I walked to the front of the house. They were all in the big front parlor. The conversation stopped as I entered.

"Karen, Avril—upstairs, we are going to bed," I said and without waiting for a response headed up the stairs. They followed. They had no other choice. What was past was gone. It could no more be brought back than it could be changed. Such is life, and as Aggie demonstrated it is cruel.

________________________________________

The Navy made its appearance the week before Christmas. On a morning that was colder than the average frigid December day in Northern New York, Admiral Dan "The Kiwi" Dickerson arrived in the company of two less ranked officers. The last time I saw Dan, he was a Lt. Commander on the Ike. It was the spring of 1992, and the ship was headed to Northfork for maintenance. The Gulf war, my war, was over. Dan was a flight deck officer, not a pilot. He had a very prominent nose, therefore the nickname for a flightless long-billed bird. He was not the most respected of the Ike's officers, but he was the affable everyone-likes-him officer whose faults are tolerated.

"Let me introduce you," Admiral Dickerson began, just as affably as ever.

"Rob, meet Commander Jack Marlow and Lieutenant Allison Patrick," he said, indicating the officers who accompanied him.

Commander Marlow was a tall, thin black man, and Lt. Patrick was a petite blond woman. She was exceeding well put together. Their uniforms were the only military thing about either of them. If these two had been in the military at one time they were like me, long time civilians. The blonde had eyes that seem to move quickly but deliberately about. She smiled coolly and was far too observant to be anything but some form of security agent. The man had the soft-spoken manner of a professional of some type.

"It's been a long time Dan, and I see you have done well for yourself... Come, say hello to Persephone," I said leading them to the center of the old field house where the engine was being lovingly assembled.

"To what scale are you building this prototype?" the little blond lieutenant asked.

"Persephone is to scale. She is small but powerful," I said.

We reached the engine. She was only partially built, as parts were being fabricated in shops all over the Northeastern US. Very precise pieces of a puzzle we were building into Persephone model 2.0. But her outer shell was there, a body waiting for its heart and lungs.

"How much thrust?" Dan asked.

"We estimate at least one hundred twenty thousand pounds of thrust," I said.

"But really what do you expect?" Dan said.

"MORE, much more," Eddy Davis declared. He was one of the propulsion grad students. He had been torquing the exterior engine housing screws as he overheard the Admiral's comment. Every piece was being built and fitted to the exacting specification that my anal assistants demanded. I might have conceived this child, but they were going to give her birth.

"Your people are somewhat over-sensitive," Marlow observed in an overly professional manner.

Of course, I thought, he's a psychiatrist. An admiral, a cop, and a shrink have come to call, but what is the true purpose of their visit?

"Allegedly this engine took a lot of fuel. It was the problem you were tasked to solve," said the faux Lieutenant.

"Well that's what the new design solves—that and the need to ram air through her," Lis said joining us.

"Mind if we look around and ask some question?" Dan said.

"No, you're paying, but I will need to get back to work. Lis will show you around," I said.

"Just one more thing. Let me buy you and your ladies dinner tonight for old time sake," Dan offered.

At that moment, I knew for whom this bell tolled, and I was sure it was me. He had said ladies, after all, not the singular lady. The Navy had come to collect its prize, but without me.

We ended up at my place. Karen had her pot roast already on when I called. Three more would be no problem. So it happened that what I now considered the hatchet team arrived at the house.

We ate in the formal dining room. My ladies, as Dan had called them, were only too happy to put on a show. They must have seen it as helping me with my work. The two fake officers slipped right into chatting with Karen and Avril. They clearly passed Karen's smell test, but not Avril's who seemed to have a keener sense for deception. She baited them a bit, particularly the faux Lieutenant.

Still, all was going well until we reached dessert. Karen produced a rum cake she made from scratch. The additional alcohol was not needed. Avril had stocked the liquor cabinet for the company, and in good French fashion purchased expensive wine to go with the meal.

Admiral Dan had started by making a good dent in the Johnny Walker Black before taking to the burgundy. By dessert, the Admiral was in his cups and telling the group war stories. If he had stayed to his own tall tales —things might have slipped past. But it seemed mine were far more interesting.

"So the crew chief is under the A1 that's a subsonic bomber, and the Iceman that's Rob here is checking the engine mount when WAM the landing gears collapsed. I swear to God half the men on the flight deck pissed their pants. But not the Iceman. The plane couldn't have missed him by a finger's length, but he just moved on to the next plane."

"What happened to the crew chief?" Avril asked

"Squashed like a bug. But if you ask me luckier than that the ensign who lost his legs to that broken cable three days later. He bleed to death while Rob here held his hand. What a mess."

I watched the blood drain from Avril's face and Karen's turn into a stony mask.

"Perhaps this is not the best after dinner conversation," suggested the Commander

"I find our host's heroics very interesting," said the Lieutenant.

"Hardly heroic when you are simply avoiding getting killed," I said.

"Oh, none of that Robby. Billy Pascal works in the Pentagon. Every payday he's in the bar telling anyone who will listen of that flight he took you on over the Gulf.

"They're at thirty thousand feet at Mach one when the engine cuts out. Billy does the restart. Nothing, then again—nothing. 'Time to bail,' he says. But the poor sod is flying the Iceman.

" 'Do it again,' comes from the second seat. Nothing. 'Now try it without the fuel' well, about then Billy has pissed his pants and figures it's too late anyway so he does it without out the fuel. Well doesn't the engine start! Billy swears they nipped a wave as they climbed back up. Bad fuel you see. Didn't affect the reserves."

Finished with his story, Dan leaned back in his chair having proved some point that escaped me.

The Lieutenant fingered her wine glass, "Odd what a person will do in a crises situation. Some men... you put pressure on, they just seem to excel," she said her eyes fixed on me.

"And many men die in a war for no purpose because accidents happen and bullets are shot. Women lose their husband and children their fathers," Avril said her anger showing.

I assumed some of that anger was directed at me. But the Commander tried to field it.

"Risks are unavoidable if we are to function in life. Every activity involves some risk," he said not realizing he dropped me into it.

The Lieutenant, though, picked right up on it, "I was considering that very point this afternoon. A little engine, totally untested, and it puts out over a hundred thousand pounds of force. What does happen, professor, if something goes wrong?"

"Why should anything go wrong?" I shot back a bit too quick.

"You expect an engine you named after the Queen of Hell to work the first time out?' the Lieutenant said.

I looked to Avril and Karen, whose eyes were fixed on me, "I never thought of her failing," I said to these two women who I realized in that instant loved me and who I loved. "She won't fail. We won't let her."

"But it could, and if it did?" the Commander said.

"Excellent question doctor... sorry but you don't wear the uniform any better than Ms. Patrick." Avril said.

"Let's just say they wouldn't need to demolish that field house for the new stadium they are planning," Dan said seeming to sober a bit as he jumped back into the conversation.

"Always were a risk taker Rob, and that's your ultimate problem," Dan said.

"So, I'm a risk. Is that the official line?"

"One of several, there are other security concerns and personality problems," Patrick said.

"Am I a security concern?" Avril asked.

"Just one of them. You are a foreign national and a communist, but Karen's former associations are of equal concern. Then there is the unstable set of geeks working on the engine. The chief assistant is a lesbian who has never had a relationship that lasted longer than a week. The rest of the staff seem to be social deviants."

"I think you go too far, special agent," said Doctor Marlow. "Admittedly the engine design team seemed to have been picked on the basis of social awkwardness, but they are not deviants per se. I do commend you, Sir, on your ability to manage such a group."

"Oh, that's Rob's forte. They would follow him anywhere. Four men dead and they still jumped when he called in the Gulf. But then there is something about leaders who take risks. Of course, it helps if you are lucky like Rob," Dan said.

"You make your luck," I said.

"You going to give us that superstitious nonsense of how the engines speak?" Dan said.

"Why would I bother? You are clearly taking the project someplace else. Can I ask where?"

"That's a secret," said agent Patrick

"Sorry, but there is too much on the line here," Dan said.

"I would protest the unfairness of stealing the work of others, but I am glad the evil creature is going," Avril said.

That virtually ended the conversation, but not the project. The geeks never accepted that they had been replaced. They continued their work on their own. Persephone had her priests and priestess. They put her together more slowly, but slow and steady often wins the race.

____________________________________________________

It was late on Christmas Eve, or rather early Christmas morning. The house in Mount Royal was asleep. It was a big old place not the size of ours on the Hudson but large. It had three ancient stories filled with visiting relatives. I was sleeping with Karen and Avril once again out of necessity, but the coolness that had set in especially with Avril since the dinner with the Admiral was very much still in evidence.

What you might now refer to as my extended family was aware of the problem, but unclear as to the cause. The only break in the chill that existed between myself and my wives came when my son Oscar sat me down and informed me he was marrying his longtime companion, Mark.

Karen and Avril sat beside me holding my hands. It was far less a shock than they anticipated. Moreover, I had no real stake in this other than wondering if my son's diffident actions towards me had been motivated by his sexual orientation. That seem unfair, as if he had prejudged me. It ended with my hugging them both.

Oscar's disclosure provided a very short-lived reprieve from the cold war the women were waging. It was frustrating because I understood the problem but could do nothing it seemed to solve it. Standing up to one woman was always difficult for me. With two against you, the fight was definitely harder and also pointless because I agreed with their position.

Persephone was an illicit love. She would take me from my family if she could. I was a late middle-aged man drooling for a dangerous young lover. My women resented her and were angered by my attraction to her. Karen and Avril feared what my new lover might do to me, and they were desperate that I reject her.

Our Canadian Christmas eve had been good. I had enjoyed the day and the family. I was content as I sat by the embers of the fire in the small visitor's parlor. I was at the front of the house looking out onto the Montreal street. It had just begun to snow.

I saw the figure reflected in the window glass. Just a vague form, but I knew that figure and had come to love it. She hesitated a minute in the door frame, and then came and crawled into my lap. I marveled once again at how small Avril was and how well her body seemed to mold into me.

"I have tried, but I can't help myself," she began, then paused to look into my eyes. Her face was beautiful in the dying glow of the fire.

"I love you," she said. "It is foolish, because as a man you are one that will always cause a women pain."

"Why do you believe the boasting of a man who lives in the fiction of the past that was nothing like he recalls. That place, in time, I lived through. Those fire burned hot, but I survived them. Those flames are yesterday's conflict. Sometimes they still haunt my dreams, but never when I feel your loving arms around me. It is you and Karen who have been pleading to put the past behind us. So let this past rest. The dead will not come back to life. The blood can never be unspilt. The foolishness of youth must be redeemed by the wisdom of age. I am finally content, why can you not be too?"

"But the new machine is dangerous. You hid it from us and named it for the devil. You will choose her over us,"

"She is only drawings on an easel, parts waiting to be assembled. When she is ready others will make love to her. Younger souls who will risk all and dance their dance with death. I am too old, and everyone seems to know that but you and Karen."

"You promise?" said Karen slipping her arms around my neck and her cheek against mine.

I had not heard her come into the room. Avril turned and kissed my wife full on the lips then did the same to me.

"We all right now?" Karen asked. It was obvious she was speaking to Avril who nodded her head and snuggled into my arms.

"He has promised. He is a good man of his word," Avril said new hope in her voice.

With that, I put Persephone behind me. Karen came around and seated herself on the floor leaning back into us. There we sat, the three of us watching the Christmas snow fall onto the Montreal street. I realized this was a new and permanent love.

____________________________________________________

Epilogue

The notables of the artistic class were crowded into the main exhibit gallery. The Phillipe DuMonte exhibit, "Restoration and Innovation," was open for viewing. I had no idea the man had such a large body of work. It was exquisitely and loving laid out by his wife and his mistress. For the last week, Avril and Karen had worked around the clock to make it all come together. It seemed every day brought them a new crisis. Now their efforts were rewarded with the approval of the gathered cultural elite.

I fear that I watched with a mixture of resentment and jealousy for my dead rival. But, I had to admire the man and his work. It was mostly modern and abstract, but there was the one classic style of painting. The portrait of his mistress in all her naked glory. It graced the cover of the museum catalog and was positioned at the center of the exhibit; my wife, but undoubtedly his lover.

I had escorted my ladies to the evening's festivities, stood through the speeches, the applause, and watched my women take bows. I heard them recount their loving memories of their Phillipe to the enthralled crowd. It was a hard night for me especially when Karen spoke.

Two women paused at the back of the crowd before Karen's picture.

"They say she was married even then," the woman said.

"A very understanding husband, perhaps?" her companion answered.

"Most understanding," Karen whispered in my ear as she took my arm.

Avril came and took my other arm. "Time we took you to bed. It's been a busy day," she said.

"Good, and I will make you two pay for this evening," I said.

____________________________________________________

The sun was up, the first leg complete. The alkali flats of the Black Rock Desert had begun to reflect the heat. The maintenance crew swarmed the short fat vehicle. Persephone V did not look like any prior contender for the land speed record but on her first run that morning she had easily taken the existing record and cruised past an incredible thousand miles an hour.

"I hope those geeks know what they are doing," crew chief Al Sporan said. He was a veteran of twenty-five years of US aviation. Test pilot Phil Hart had brought him along, "For the Ride," as he called it.

Sporan had little to do. The vehicle and more precisely the engine had a devoted group of technicians servicing her every need.

"By what she did this morning, I'd say they must know something," Hart replied.