“here’s the hump in the highway—see it there?” and I did. Where his oval wasn’t perfect—where it bulged out in one direction—the highway did the same on the map. He pointed out a spot on the map near the bulge where a bunch of criss-crossing streets were grouped around a long narrow empty space: “Here’s all the streets criss-crossing in that neighborhood—well, they aren’t quite as straight as I drew ‘em. The empty spot’s a hilltop.” He stared at the stacked boxes as though they were somebody else’s work. “She lives at the top of the hill—two-story brick with double-chimneys. It might not be a big hill,” he added. “You’re boosting the signal, aren’t ya?” he asked Max suspiciously. “I wouldn’t’a got it this fast on my own. It’s been a long time.”
“You’re still doing the work,” Max said.
“But…how does it work?” I stammered. “How do you explain it?”
Tauber shrugged. “That’s a conscious mind thing,” he said, tapping his forehead. “Having to explain everything. I don’t have to know how sex works, son, long as I know how to do it…”
He turned to Max. “But how do you know what you know?” He had that same squinty-eyed skeptical look on his face that I’d seen the night before when we started talking about Florida. Smiling, pleasant but there was an edge to it. “I’m not the man I was, but my memory’s okay. I don’t remember you in the program.”
“I was sort of on the edges,” Max said, smiling back—two of the worst smiles I’d ever seen.
“What edges? Weren’t no edges. You were in or out. Which program? Center Lane? Grill Flame? Stargate?”
“None of them,” Max answered. Then he went red, taking both of us by surprise. “I never made it through training. I was drummed out—for insubordination.”
After a second, Tauber answered with his own laughter. “That would explain you getting along with Dave.”
Max nodded, adding, “Dave was the one who fired me,” and that triggered another round of laughter. Throughout it all, though, Tauber’s eyes stayed tight on him.
“You’re blocking me,” he said finally.
“Force of habit,” Max answered first and then shrugged. “We all have our secrets. You’re blocking me too.”
“But you know who I am—Dave sent you to me.”
“Uh-huh,” Max sighed, “and he sent me to you, didn’t he?”
Tauber didn’t seem thrilled with this answer, but it silenced him for the moment. And then we were down the offramp into the suburbs. “This is right, isn’t it?” Max asked Tauber and he nodded, gruff.
The offramp dumped us into a development, streets of neat well-kept houses on a hilly incline. Max started his driving-with-the-eyes-closed thing and I was stupidly thrilled to see Tauber was just as petrified by this as I was. But this time, we circled the neighborhood several times before Max could get a heading. “Lots of interference,” he muttered. He closed his eyes again, made a few quick turns and Tauber pointed at a brick house just where the road curved. “That’s it,” he said immediately.
Miriam Fine’s house stood at the apex, the highest completed point of the development. Streets of blocky brick houses stretched out downhill in several directions. A wide patch of woods filled the crest of the hilltop just behind her, a few construction cranes visible farther back, in a clearing between two developments. This looked like the spot the developer had reached when the construction economy got the hiccups.
We walked up the driveway to the heavy wooden door. Max stood aside and let Tauber knock. The door opened almost immediately.
“Mark?” Miriam Fine said with a sharp gaze. “What’s happened?” The look on her face suggested she either wasn’t all that pleased to see him or didn’t like the way he looked. Neither answer would’ve been a shock. Tauber definitely wasn’t her type—she was a slim, youthful fortyish, dressed in a ruffled white
“You’re still doing the work,” Max said.
“But…how does it work?” I stammered. “How do you explain it?”
Tauber shrugged. “That’s a conscious mind thing,” he said, tapping his forehead. “Having to explain everything. I don’t have to know how sex works, son, long as I know how to do it…”
He turned to Max. “But how do you know what you know?” He had that same squinty-eyed skeptical look on his face that I’d seen the night before when we started talking about Florida. Smiling, pleasant but there was an edge to it. “I’m not the man I was, but my memory’s okay. I don’t remember you in the program.”
“I was sort of on the edges,” Max said, smiling back—two of the worst smiles I’d ever seen.
“What edges? Weren’t no edges. You were in or out. Which program? Center Lane? Grill Flame? Stargate?”
“None of them,” Max answered. Then he went red, taking both of us by surprise. “I never made it through training. I was drummed out—for insubordination.”
After a second, Tauber answered with his own laughter. “That would explain you getting along with Dave.”
Max nodded, adding, “Dave was the one who fired me,” and that triggered another round of laughter. Throughout it all, though, Tauber’s eyes stayed tight on him.
“You’re blocking me,” he said finally.
“Force of habit,” Max answered first and then shrugged. “We all have our secrets. You’re blocking me too.”
“But you know who I am—Dave sent you to me.”
“Uh-huh,” Max sighed, “and he sent me to you, didn’t he?”
Tauber didn’t seem thrilled with this answer, but it silenced him for the moment. And then we were down the offramp into the suburbs. “This is right, isn’t it?” Max asked Tauber and he nodded, gruff.
The offramp dumped us into a development, streets of neat well-kept houses on a hilly incline. Max started his driving-with-the-eyes-closed thing and I was stupidly thrilled to see Tauber was just as petrified by this as I was. But this time, we circled the neighborhood several times before Max could get a heading. “Lots of interference,” he muttered. He closed his eyes again, made a few quick turns and Tauber pointed at a brick house just where the road curved. “That’s it,” he said immediately.
Miriam Fine’s house stood at the apex, the highest completed point of the development. Streets of blocky brick houses stretched out downhill in several directions. A wide patch of woods filled the crest of the hilltop just behind her, a few construction cranes visible farther back, in a clearing between two developments. This looked like the spot the developer had reached when the construction economy got the hiccups.
We walked up the driveway to the heavy wooden door. Max stood aside and let Tauber knock. The door opened almost immediately.
“Mark?” Miriam Fine said with a sharp gaze. “What’s happened?” The look on her face suggested she either wasn’t all that pleased to see him or didn’t like the way he looked. Neither answer would’ve been a shock. Tauber definitely wasn’t her type—she was a slim, youthful fortyish, dressed in a ruffled white
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