Part 37 (1/2)
a problem'and it won't for many years'we will change our faces and a.s.sume a new ident.i.ty.”
”Change your faces'”
”Yes. The doctor believes she can alter our facial structure, to the point that we appear to be totally
different individuals. Our fingerprints can be altered as well, if necessary.”
James lifted his eyebrows. ”To what extent have you blended into society' Have any of you married humans'”
”Humans'” Susan sniffed. ”Most of us have no interest in marrying humans, considering the things they've
put us through. We try to form family groups among ourselves.”
Annie swallowed, hearing the slight scorn in Susan's voice when she mentioned humans, wondering if James felt the same, deep down. He'd told her that he loved her'but wouldn't he be happier among
other humanoids'
”So none of you have married humans'” James asked.
”None that I know of,” Susan said. Her lip curled. ”It is not something I like to contemplate.”
James glanced at her, and she wondered if his people's disapproval mattered to him. He answered that
question instantly.
”I used to feel the same way,” he said softly. ”But now I know there are humans who are worth loving.”
A wave of love broke over Annie, and she squeezed James' hand and leaned into his shoulder. Susan looked at her with surprised approval.
”You may be right,” she admitted. Annie noticed her gaze had drifted to Gar, and she looked at him
thoughtfully. ”Maybe some of them are worth loving, after all.”
That evening Annie sat in her bedroom, scribbling in a spiral-bound notebook. Kay had returned to her
condo with Clark and Gar, leaving Annie and James alone. Realizing she was still exhausted, Annie had retreated to her bedroom to take a nap right after they'd left. Moments ago, she'd awakened, with the bare outline of a poem taking shape in her mind.
Eventually she became aware that someone else was in the room with her. Looking up, she saw James hovering in the doorway.
”What are you doing'” he asked.
Annie shot him a self-deprecating grin. ”Believe it or not,” she said, ”I'm writing poetry.”
James looked puzzled. ”You told me you hadn't written poetry in ten years.”
”I haven't. I haven't felt like writing poetry for a long time, James. But tonight a few things came to me, so I wrote them down.”
”Why do you feel like writing poetry now'” ”It's hard to explain,” Annie said slowly, looking at the words she'd scrawled. ”After college, I got so wrapped up in the ordinary. The mundane. I had a job that took up most of my time, and my life was so monotonous that poetry just seemed alien to me somehow. Even after I married Steve'” She met James' eyes squarely. ”I loved him, James. I really did. But our life together was routine. Comfortable. Not exactly boring, but not exactly exciting, either. I can't explain it. It just didn't inspire poetry somehow.” James looked surprised and flattered. ”Are you saying that I inspire poetry in you'” ”Looks that way. One thing I have to say, life with you is never routine.” ”I hope that it will become more routine eventually.” ”I imagine it will. But I don't think it'll ever be totally mundane.” She looked back down at the scrawl of words on paper, the words she'd written about loneliness. ”I can't help but feel sorry for the humans of your time. They live such isolated lives. The same way I lived before I met you.” ”Isolation is normal for the humans of the future,” James said. He took a step closer to her. ”But not for this time.”
”I don't think it's the right way to live,” Annie said softly. ”I don't think it's good for humans to live that way. At least it wasn't good for me.”
”I suspect you're right.” James looked at her with intensity, his forehead wrinkling, and hesitated. Finally he blurted out, ”I told you once that I was not trying to take Steve's place in your heart.”
Annie lifted her head, seeing the anxiety in his eyes. She smiled slightly and closed the notebook, then stood up and walked over to him.
”James,” she said softly, ”just because I loved Steve doesn't mean I love you any less.”
He swallowed hard. ”I understand that. At least, I think I understand. I have never loved anyone before. I find that I do not wish to ' share your love.”
She shook her head. ”It's not like that, James. Steve is dead. I'll always remember him, but he's my past. You're the future.” She grinned. ”In more ways than one.”
Some of the anxious shadow faded from his eyes as she went on. ”And if it weren't for you, I'd still be living here alone, wasting my life.” She reached out and took his hand, wrapping her fingers around his. ”You gave me something to live for, James.”
He looked down at her, his eyes very blue. ”You have given me a great deal to live for as well, Annie. This morning, I thought I was going to die, and I realized I wasn't ready. I wanted to live. With you.” His voice dropped almost to a whisper. ”Forever.”
She leaned against his shoulder, smiling. ”Are you proposing to me, James'”
”Proposing'” He gazed at her for a moment, frowning, then his expression cleared. ”You mean, am I suggesting that we form a permanent conjugal relations.h.i.+p'”
”It's called marriage, James.”
”Marriage,” he repeated. ”Yes, I believe that is the word I was looking for. Will you marry me, Annie'”
Tears rose to her eyes at the same time that a smile curved her lips. ”Yes, James,” she whispered. ”I will marry you.”
James grinned broadly, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. ”Can we do it tonight'”
She shook her head, her arms around his neck. ”No. Remember all the paperwork Susan told us about' The doc.u.ments that make you appear to be a legal citizen of the United States' We can't get married until we have all those papers. A social security number, a birth certificate, a driver's license. Susan is going to get them for us, but it'll take a little while. But in the meantime'.” She wiggled seductively against him. ”Let's form a temporary conjugal relations.h.i.+p.”
”I like that idea.” He lowered her until her feet touched the ground again, then bent his head and kissed her. His lips were gentle, almost reverent, and they sent an eddy of desire swirling through her. She buried her hands in his hair and held on.
His hand slid up under her s.h.i.+rt, and she caught suddenly at him and stepped away. ”Wait, James. I'm still a filthy mess.”
”I do not mind.”