Independence Day: Crucible (The Official Prequel) (13 page)

“So how’s your dad?”

“He’s doing fine,” she said.

“Good.”

“So,” she said, after a moment. “I got my letter the other day.”

“And?” he asked.

“I’m in,” she said.

“That’s great,” he said.

“What about you?” she asked.

A grin spread across his face.

“Well, you had to know I aced the exam,” he said. “I got my letter a couple of days ago, but I didn’t want to say anything in case—you know—you flamed out.”

“Flamed out?” she said. “Do you want to compare scores? Because we can compare scores, Mr. Please-Help-Me-With-This-Calculus.”

“Look,” Dylan said, “there’s no need to get into a pissing contest here.”

“You whipped it out first,” she said.

“It’s cool,” he said. “We both got in. That’s all that matters. And, incidentally—in a real pissing match, you know who would win, right?”

“Gross, but conceded,” she said. “Anyway, we’re both awesome. I’m sending my voucher to Mecklenburg. You can probably get a spot there too.”

His face fell a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m not going to Mecklenburg. I’m going to Nevada.”

“Oh?” She was disappointed, but didn’t want it to show.

“My mom got a job at a hospital near the Center for Alien Technology, where Dad is stationed. We can finally end this long-distance-family thing. Mom’s really happy.”

“I’m sure you are too,” she said.

“I am,” he admitted. “I’ve really missed Dad. Being able to see him every day—that’s gold—but… I’m going to miss being here.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll miss you too.”

He looked up at her, and for a moment their gazes connected in a way that they just hadn’t before. For a wonderful, terrifying moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he didn’t, and they started walking.

She thought she felt relieved, but at the same time…

“So you’re staying until the end of the school year,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Then we make the move.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said. “And for your mom and dad.” She paused, then added, “We’ll stay in touch, and then we’ll probably be in the ESD Academy together. You’re still planning on that, right?”

“I’m the son of Steven Hiller,” he said. “I’ve pretty much got to be a pilot.”

“I don’t know that I have much of a choice either,” Patricia said.

“Not true,” he replied. “You could be president.”

Jake sat on his bed, reading the letter again. He realized he had tears in his eyes. He was the only one in the room, and decided to keep it that way. He closed the door, locked it, and read the document once more. Then he returned it to the envelope.

He went to work, and tried to stay focused and on task, but his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. At the end of the day, he made a decision.

He found Frank in his little office lit by buzzing neon tubes.

“Jake,” Frank said, “you were lucky you didn’t lose any fingers today.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I was a little distracted, I guess. Listen—I’d like to go ahead and pay off the Mustang.”

“You’ve got the money?” he asked.

“Yeah. Two hundred, right?”

“That’s the balance,” Frank said. He paused. “You know, there was a guy in here looking at that car yesterday. Offered me nearly twice what you’re paying.”

Jake’s heart sank. “Mr. Franklin…”

“No,” Frank said. “It’s not that, son. A deal is a deal, and we shook hands. The car is yours. What I’m suggesting is that if you had a mind, you could make a nice profit on her. You should give it some thought.”

Relieved, Jake nodded. “I’ll do that,” he said, but he didn’t mean it. He didn’t own very much—the clothes on his back, the computer Charlie built him, and a few books. This car was
his
. Something just for him.

He went home and read the letter again, then took to his books. He still had a few months of school left.

He didn’t look up when Charlie came in. They were back to three-to-a-room now, and August, their youngest bunkmate, rarely showed up until bedtime.

He heard the bed creak as Charlie sat on it.

“How’d it go today?” Jake asked.

“Oh,” he said. “You know.”

Something in his tone made Jake look up. Charlie looked miserable. His lip was swollen and split, and the skin around one of his eyes was an angry red, suggesting that soon he would have a black eye.

“What happened to you?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Doug was long gone, and at least one rumor had him killed in a bar fight. But he’d left a legacy. There were always bullies.

“You got mouthy again, didn’t you?” Jake accused.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” Charlie said.

“Of course it isn’t your fault,” Jake said. “It’s never your fault when someone beats you up. Not unless you start the fight.”

“I didn’t start the fight,” Charlie said. Then his mouth twisted a little. “Exactly.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” Jake asked.

“It’s just, I was talking to Mary Pettigrew—”

“That’s Josh Pardo’s girlfriend,” Jake said. “Have I taught you nothing?”

“She’s my age,” Charlie said. “I think we might be soul mates.”

“Really? You’re twelve, man. You don’t find your soul mate at twelve.”

“It happens,” he said, defensively.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “What you’re feeling is called puberty.” He sighed. “So go on—you were talking to her.”

“And Josh came up,” Charlie said. “We had some words.”

“What kind of words?”

“I might have suggested he had the brains of a banana slug.”

“Well, that’s at least true,” Jake said.

“I know, right?” Charlie said. “But he didn’t appreciate it at all. Then this happened.”

“Charlie,” Jake said. “You can’t keep writing these checks your fists can’t cash.”

“I know,” he said.

“No, I mean really. I usually get you out of these messes. That’s…” He stopped.

“What?” Charlie said, perking up. “What happened?” Then he smiled, despite the busted lip. “Holy crap! You got in, didn’t you?”

Jake pulled the letter from under his mattress and handed it to Charlie.

Charlie read it. “I knew you could do it,” he said, beaming. “Way to go, Jake.”

“Thanks,” he said.

A bit of an awkward silence fell then, as Charlie took in what that meant.

“So, I’ll test in, too, in a couple of years,” he said. “I’ll get into wherever you go.”

“Sure,” Jake said.

* * *

Jake put in his voucher for Casse, the STEP school in Nevada, and got his confirmation a few weeks later. He gave his notice at Frank’s Auto Repair and put the finishing touches on the Mustang. He thought about the drive to Nevada, about arriving at the school under his own power in a car he’d half-rebuilt himself.

Arriving in style.

Yet the closer his departure day grew, the more he felt something was wrong.

About a week before he was due in Nevada a kid named Taylor came running up to say that Charlie was in trouble. Taylor was out of breath and freaking out a little, so Jake ran. What he found was Charlie backed onto a retaining wall that ran above the top of “the canyon”—an old drainage canal. It was a drop of about thirty feet. Charlie was balanced on the narrow wall, his back to the fall. Josh was advancing on him with a pocket knife. He had accomplices, Ryan and Li, and six or so kids who were just watching to see what would happen.

Josh wasn’t like Doug, ice cold and hollow inside, afraid of nothing. He was more like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment.

Charlie saw Jake, but Josh’s back was to him.

He didn’t think about what he did next at all. He picked up a piece of concrete rubble, walked up behind Josh. Josh must have heard him coming, because he turned around, but the expression on his face was puzzled, not comprehending even as Jake smacked him in the ear with the heavy chunk.

He didn’t make a sound at first. He just fell, dropping the knife and clutching at his ear. Jake bent over and got the knife, then went to the wall to help Charlie down.

About that time, Josh sucked in enough breath to start screaming.

Jake glared at Josh’s accomplices and the spectators.

“You guys are all assholes,” he said. “You were just going to watch him force Charlie to fall?”

None of them said anything, but they all got out of his way when he led Charlie past them. Nearby, Josh was sobbing like a baby.

* * *

For the next few days, Jake wouldn’t let Charlie go anywhere alone, and if he stayed in the room, it was with the lock and chain on. Charlie was uncharacteristically obedient. A punch in the face was one thing, but falling into the canyon might have been fatal—and Josh knew it.

Josh, who now had a cauliflower ear.

Jake hadn’t expected to get in trouble with the headmaster, and he didn’t. Very likely no one had even reported the incident.

A day before he had originally planned to leave, he went into the room. Charlie was reading something or other, with his feet propped up on the wall, next to an aging poster of F-18s flying at a city destroyer.

Jake tossed a used suitcase on the bed next to him.

“Pack up,” he said.

“What?” Charlie asked. “Why?”

“You can’t stay in the STEP dorms because you aren’t enrolled in the school,” Jake said. “I called, but you can’t. So I found a group home that has room for both of us, not too far from campus. It’s not free, but I think I have enough money to cover the first six months. After that we’ll figure it out.”

Charlie blinked.

“You’re taking me with you?”

“Are you not following me?” Jake said. “Keep up.”

Tears welled in Charlie’s eyes.

“Okay,” Jake said. “Don’t start that again.” But Charlie couldn’t stop, and after a moment, Jake went and put an arm around him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said.

“I don’t wanna hold you back, Jake,” he said. “I’ll be okay here. Really.”

“I’m sure,” Jake said, “but you’re all I have, Charlie. You’re my only family, and anyway, how am I gonna pass without you explaining my homework? I’m not leaving without you. Look, I’ve already got these.”

Charlie took the proffered piece of card stock.

“Bus tickets?” he said, sniffling. “What about your car?”

Jake shrugged. “Cars are overrated,” he said. “The bus is how all the cool kids travel.”

David watered the plants on his patio, and then inspected his rock garden. He had never had much use for lawns, and in the rain-starved desert Southwest it seemed almost criminal to attempt one, but he liked plants and taking care of them. He had become a fan of cacti, which came in all sorts of crazy forms, and in the past few years he had also taken up bonsai, using as stock the hardy species native to the region—pinyon, mountain mahogany, and so forth.

After a bit of watering and pruning, he went inside and made himself a drink. Almost as if on cue, Connie drove up. He poured her Scotch and met her at the door. She was carrying something.

“Hey, what’s this?” he asked.

“Just a little something I picked up for you,” she said. She held it toward him, a very nice, very traditional bonsai tray—rectangular, flat, jade green.

“Is it my birthday?” he asked. “Did you do something—you know—naughty?”

“No,” she said. “Just celebrating the both of us being home at the same time. That doesn’t happen a whole lot. And for a whole month!”

“Um,” he said, and gave her a kiss and then took the tray. “And this, uh, planted in it?”

“Well, I know you like local species,” she said.

“Sure, sure,” he said, “but this is sagebrush.” He looked at her questioningly.

She laughed. “Yeah. I uprooted it on the way home. It’s just a joke.”

“No,” he said, wagging his thinking finger. “No, it’s not a joke—it’s a challenge.”

“Seriously,” she said. “I didn’t want to pick out a plant for you so I just got… that. I thought it would be funny.”

“It deserves a chance,” he said, eyeing the scraggly plant. “I see potential.” He set the planter and the weed on the table and reached for his drink.

“Don’t forget,” Connie said. “You’re picking up your father at the airport in an hour.”

“Forget?” he said. “Of course I didn’t—that’s today?”

“Yep.”

He sighed and set his drink on a coaster.

“Rough day at work?” she asked.

“The usual,” he said. “Things are getting pushed through too fast. I thought things would get better once Bell was out, but this guy President Jacobs brought in—Tanner—he’s a piece of work. There was this…” He stopped.

“You know what?” he said. “Never mind. Are you going to go with me to get my father, Senator?”

“On your bike? Or did you learn to drive in the last few weeks?”

“Don’t you have, like, a driver? He’ll have luggage.”

“Well, but I gave Jeeves the evening off,” she said. “Along with my butler and the kitchen staff. But I guess I could drive you.”

* * *

“This is nice,” Julius Levinson said, looking around the living room. “You’ve been here, what, five years?”

David felt slightly trapped as he watched Connie beat a retreat to “freshen up” before dinner.

“About that, Pops,” he agreed.

“So this is the first time I’ve seen the place. Very nice. It reminds me of your Aunt Rachel’s house on Long Island. Manhattan gets blown up, and Long Island is spared. Who could know?” He peered down the hall. “You could have got something bigger,” he said. “Who knows? It’s just the two of you now, but—”

“What? Are you planning on moving in with us?” David said.

Julius frowned. “You know what I’m talking about, I think. You two aren’t getting any younger.”

“How about a drink, Pops?” David said.

“Again he ducks the question.”

“I didn’t hear a question,” David said.

“Just some water,” Julius said. “Don’t go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” David assured him. “There’s this little knob you turn. It’s like magic.”

A few minutes later, they were on the patio at a small café table. Julius looked around at all of the bonsai.

“These pots are too small,” he said. “You’ll stunt their growth.”