Bones of my Father Page 4

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  By the time the baby was born, we were picking up radio chatter out of Portland. They had Dad’s head and were willing to trade for it. Seems they couldn’t crack his memory after all. Magenta thought we could work something out. Said the folks in her old compound were just cautious, but they were good people. I didn’t want to fight with them. And now that Magenta had explained how the enclave worked, I figured it would be worth it. Not like I wanted to keep her here without her extended family, but caution had ruled my life so long, I couldn’t see any way around it.

  Magenta filled in the gaps about Dad one afternoon. Seems a mil-gov satellite had crashed near Pasco. Dad raced over there, but the group out of Portland beat him to it. They parleyed, then argued, and finally fought.

  Dad ended up killing one of them. They scrambled him with some neutron weapon they’d discovered in old California. It spiked Dad’s power grid, scrambling his memory. They didn’t know about the personality clusters.

  Mom was pissed. Said something about him having secret contact with other women and went silent for six weeks.

  But when the baby came, she reappeared to talk me through the delivery. It was one of the most beautiful experiences I’d ever had.

  Eventually I figured out how to rig the Rapture protocol to work room by room, wiping out the nasty viral slug invader. Eventually we got back access to the vehicles, machine shop and weapons storage.

  I inventoried the nukes, just to make sure, then recovered the titanium from the work shop.

  I Raptured the crap out of it, then used the titanium to build a crib for little Mauve. She is so pretty. Purple hair, nose like a button, and her mother’s warm brown eyes.

  “You know,” Magenta said one morning as Mauve nursed. “We have plenty of room here, and better medical care than anything I’ve ever seen.”

  I held my breath, knowing what was coming.

  “And you’ve been so kind, such a good father.”

  She knew which buttons to push.

  I think I’m going to like being a dad. But could I stand more people here?

  “Just think about it,” she said, toying with Mauve’s beautiful hair. “Then all the children could grow up pretty and healthy.”

  Grandpa laughed. “That girl got you whipped, boy.”

  “Oh, you hush,” Mom said quietly. “Or I’ll rearrange your clusters.”

  Grandpa muttered a few more minutes, but fell silent. Magenta and Mom had this worked out, I could see.

  “Not a lot at once,” she said. “And not forever. Just a small group, let them get all doctored up and then send them home. We could teach them too. Maybe set up some trade, you know?”

  “We just need some time,” I said, sitting at her feet, my hand on the baby’s back. “We can take the VTOL down, do some preliminary healing and such, get some vaccines made up with Mom’s help, show some good faith?”

  Magenta smiled at me and nodded. “That’s good thinking.”

  I knew she was humoring me. Letting me feel like I had a say in the matter. It was all right, though. She and Mom were right. I needed to open up, help those others out there.

  “Perhaps for Mauve’s first birthday. We can arrange to pick up a small group of them. See what happens.”

  Magenta rose, placing little Mauve in the crib I’d made from the bones of my father.

  I stood, watching her fuss with the baby a moment, then moved beside her. They were both so beautiful.

  “Okay, and we can send a care package down their way right now, trade for Dad’s head, maybe?”

  “Whatever you say,” she said. When she turned to kiss me she glowed with a golden light.

  ABOUT the AUTHOR

  J. A. PITTS is a graduate of the Oregon Coast Writers Workshops, holds degrees in English and Library Science, and is the author of the novels Black Blade Blues, Honeyed Words and Forged in Fire. The short story that launched the series was the anthology Swordplay, edited by Denise Little. His other short fiction has been published in Fortean Bureau, Talebones, Zombie Raccoons and Killer Bunnies, The Trouble with Heroes, and Courts of Fey.