Whatever Wade’s motivations, he would have information about genetic manipulation procedures: the clinics, the possible patients. He was a lead. He had to be handled.
They did not go in their official dress, which Wade may or may not appreciate. Having a Very Important Reunion in front of the general public was not the same as being cornered in his place of business by religious figures.
“He was ambitious,” Rhys told Lider. “So was I. I’d already messed up two relationships—”
“You were pretty young, yes? Only slightly older than Brae is now.”
“I guess. But I get why Brae might feel shattered. I blamed myself for the relationships ending. Still do, really. You know how I want my lover, my boyfriend, husband to be my other self, my one and only in all areas of my life. Possessiveness. Not an attractive quality. As I got told.”
“You wanted a Cubus.” Lider smiled, his eyes narrowed to catch sight of the incoming train for the Jersey Shore Principat.
“I wanted to be tagged, yeah. Once you tagged me, I wanted to keep you to myself.”
“Only you didn’t. You shared my thought with others before they could see me. You invited me into the community.”
“I’d learned. With Wade, back then, I thought I’d found someone who fit my criteria. I’m not sure I loved him. Or liked him. But he accepted—seemingly accepted—me the way I was. Two guys with plans. We would excel in our workplaces, conquer the world with our power-couple act. We were alike, so that meant we would succeed. Except I wanted us to be business partners, to start a business together—”
“You wanted an actual relationship.”
Rhys paused and considered as passengers disembarked. They had already passed through customs, so once the doors cleared, they boarded immediately and slung their overnight bags onto the upper racks.
Rhys said, “I never thought about why Wade and I should sell high-end pharmaceutical products together. But I think you’re right. I wanted something stable. Or something I could possess. In any case, Wade said what everyone else had said with the addition that I didn’t appreciate his accomplishments or support his goals. I thought our separate accomplishments and goals meant our mutual venture would succeed. But he was probably right—”
He frowned and stared out the opposite long windows. He hadn’t wallowed this much in youthful regrets since that last time he was on Earth. Beyond the panes, office buildings, tunnels, and foliage flashed by as blended images. Rhys settled his shoulder against Lider’s. For once, Lider’s feet were still, his hand tucked in Rhys’s.
Lider waited for the train’s initial rush to dull to a steady hum. He said, “Having met Wade, I would say he was irritated that you formed your own path, your own ideas. You weren’t planning to be a plus-one eye candy to his shin-digs forever. He blamed you for his assumptions--”
“His story about the relationship. I guess we all have one. I understand Brae, you know. I mean, no one has ever accused me of being dreamy but that search for balance—some way to calm the feelings of inadequacy: I understand why Brae is running—”
“Except you did something concrete with your life,” Lider said. “I’m not saying you were right to blame yourself. I think Wade is a tosser. But what you perceived as failure motivated you to become a priest, to go to Mars. You adapted. This Brae—he seems to be searching for some kind of external perfection, something that will twist the kaleidoscope of his life into a unified picture, every piece in place.”
“No messy bits.”
“Geo is sometimes right about stuff.”
Yes.
If Rhys asked, Lider would go to Jupiter with him; Lider would adapt.
Lider waited to become corporeal, waited until he knew what he was getting into. Once he made the leap, he accepted the fallout. Now, he takes what comes.
But is it fair for me to ask?
* * *
Wade came into the cubicle area, fingers in his vest pockets, eyebrows raised, mouth twisted: the image of the skeptical man. He was ready to scold: I am very busy, Rhys. What do you need?
Rhy nodded to Lider, who had turned to greet Wade, arms loose at his sides.
Lider said, “We are currently investigating the disappearance of Brae Los Nares, a Siphon.”
“I heard,” Wade said shortly.
Rhys reminded himself that Wade wasn’t necessarily being terse because he had a guilty conscience. Wade’s behavior could simply denote his sense of importance. Too important for the likes of them. (Too important to be waylaid in reverse.)
“Brae could be exploring genetic manipulation,” Lider said in a remarkably even tone.
Silence. Maybe Wade sensed Rhys and Lider’s lack of élan. He said, “I am very busy.”
Lider said, “Such clinics are legal in only a few statelets.”
“The Province of Califia and Kingdom of Ontario allow them. More clinics will follow.”
“You could discover if Brae Los Nares is at one.”
Silence. But Lider was not an ex who would fall back into a pattern of proscribed declarations and responses. Lider waited.
Wade began, “Confidentiality—”
“Not an issue,” Rhys said. “Your company’s knowledge of a citizen’s whereabouts is simply knowledge, especially since Brae will have crossed territories. No specific laws prevent you passing on his current location.”
Neither did any laws force Wade to help them—not unless Rhys and Lider got far more heavy hitters involved—but Rhys didn’t mention that part.
Wade looked truculent but conflicted. He was warring, Rhys guessed, with being sandbagged versus the possible prestige of assisting in an international search. Rhys understood. Those would have been his primary considerations ten years ago.
Thank God Lider came along.
Lider said gently, “We would appreciate your help. Please contact us once you have an address.”
Lider didn’t wait for Wade’s agreement or disagreement. He glanced at Rhys, and Rhys rose. Wade straightened. Everyone shook hands.
Heading out of the cubicle, Rhys turned back. He might never see Wade again. Hopefully wouldn’t. But closure mattered. And maybe Lider needed to hear what Rhys had to ask.
“Why did you meet us at Grand Central Station?”
 |
| Wade |
“It wasn’t because of our investigation?”
Wade gaped at him, a notable break in his calculated persona. Then, he reddened.I’m not being kind. Rhys didn’t flinch. There was Lider to consider.
Wade smoothed down his jacket. The red in his cheeks faded. “You obviously think much of yourself, Rhys.”
Not really. Not when I assumed you were curious about our investigation as opposed to where I’d gotten in my life.
But there was no reason to harass Wade further.
“I suppose I do,” Rhys said congenially. “Thanks for your help.”
Out on the open stretch of ground between Kloptik and Newark Bay, Lider nudged Rhys.
“Told you,” he said. “He wanted to check up on his ex. Wade is like Tad.”
Tad Avide was what Lider called a “revolving door citizen”—someone who was constantly moving to Mars, then leaving Mars, then moving to Mars again. Constantly in search of the consummate society, which meant, “a society that does what Tad wants.” Constantly dissatisfied. Constantly trying to make others dissatisfied. Consumed by how everything reflected on him.
“Wade always wanted to be admired,” Rhys admitted. “Unlike Tad, though, he doesn’t actually want to ruin others’ lives. He wouldn’t set out to do that, at least. And maybe he actually wants me to be happy.”
“In Wade’s mind, if you’re happy, it’s because you finally managed to get what you needed, you poor thing.” Lider sounded for once entirely snarky.
“I did,” Rhys said without sounding snarky at all and had the pleasure of seeing Lider flush.
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