Ruby’s Fire

“What are you doing here?” Armonk blurts.

 

Nevada looks from Armonk to Dr. Varik and back to Armonk, clearly at a loss at how to deal with her students, catapulted into this radically different setting. “I um, well, the doctor and I ran into each other recently and we, well, wanted to visit.” She giggles nervously. “It’s been a very long while.” As she stares at us her expression hardens. “I don’t remember saying you could take hours to sightsee. You were to get groceries and come back. We only have two gliders and we need them in an emergency.”

 

I step forward. “We needed to see a doctor, Ms. Pilgrim. I haven’t been eating right, and Armonk needed help with his leg. The lady at the depot said there was a doctor nearby.”

 

“Ah, I see.” Her voice softens as she looks over at Armonk. “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve been happy to arrange for a house visit.”

 

Armonk can’t walk over to her without his prosthetic, but he calls out, “House visit? Why didn’t you tell me he’s been here for weeks? I have asked you about that!”

 

Now it’s Dr. Varik’s turn to be flabbergasted. He wheels around to Nevada, who’s looking mortified. “Armonk’s been asking about me? Is that true?”

 

Nevada casts Armonk an exasperated, desperate look. “Yes, but we’ve been so busy with the Axiom Contest, I didn’t want them to be distracted—they wouldn’t have forgiven me for it. Armonk, I know you need your leg fixed, and I know the doctor’s a family friend. It’s been on my mind since I ran into him last week. I was going to take you over there the minute your projects were finished.”

 

“To heck with the projects, Nevada!” Armonk bellows. “It should’ve been my decision, I’m eighteen. I’m no child anymore.”

 

“Right. I’m—” Nevada appears on the verge of tears. “I’m truly sorry. I feel terrible.”

 

Dr. Varik goes to her and puts a protective arm over her shoulder. Have they been seeing each other for a while now? They do make a handsome couple—him with his serious eyes and noble stature, Nevada with her stylish desert clothes and pixie green hair tips. “I’m sure that Nevada wants the best for all of you,” he says. “Like the students at The Greening, she fended for herself as a teen. She’s trying to give you kids something she never had.”

 

Armonk sighs. “Nevada, I appreciate you giving us the opportunity to compete for the Axiom prize. God knows, Black Hills Sector needs the cash. But—”

 

“Exactly,” says Dr. Varik. Why is he so quick to speak for Nevada? There’s something irritating about that. Perhaps I’m too touchy about her, ever since she quarantined Thorn. Perhaps we’re all too touchy.

 

Nevada walks over to Armonk and pats his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you immediately. Forgive me? I’m trying to do my best. I was never a parent, I’m not good at it.”

 

Armonk offers her a thin smile. “I suppose I never made it clear how badly I needed to see Dr. Varik. How badly my leg hurts being so uneven.”

 

“He’s not a complainer, like some of the students.” I roll my eyes, remembering Vesper always comparing how much food other people get, about getting her share of Axiom tools, about how people are always short-shafting her. In contrast, it’s clear how much Armonk chooses to endure in patient silence. It’s impressive and it binds me to him.

 

Nevada brushes her long hair out of her face. “Yes, well, I’m glad you’re getting a new prosthetic. Dr. Varik is very talented in that regard.”

 

The doctor sits down by Armonk. “I’d better finish adjusting this temporary leg, so that this young man and woman can get back to The Greening.” He winks at Armonk. “Nevada, make yourself at home in the other room, I’ll be a few more minutes here.”

 

When she’s out of the room, Armonk says, “That was awkward.” He pauses. “Whatever happened to Marisa Baron? The lady you were with when I first met you at my place?”

 

“Oh, Marisa’s still working for the rights of climate refugees—to get them fair hours and housing. Admirable, really.” Dr. Varik gazes off into the distance. “I suppose we grew apart. Haven’t seen her for a few years now. Time passes so quickly,” he adds wistfully. Then, as he looks back at us, he brightens. “I’m looking forward to finding out what your projects are.”

 

“Will you be attending the ceremony in Vegas-by-the-Sea?” Armonk asks him.

 

“Afraid I have too many irons in the fire here.”

 

We tell him about the yurt people we met and their sick daughter Moori. He promises to visit them. Then he helps Armonk secure the leg that he’s created out of hardened putty. I shy away from studying the details. “You’ll have to fill me in on who wins,” adds the doctor.

 

“As a matter of fact, I’d love to talk to you about—” Armonk glances through the open door to see if Nevada’s milling about within earshot.

 

“Talk about what?” asks the doctor.