That was what I ought to have expected, but I didnt. I wasnt quite myself yet; I wasnt even sure that I was myself.
At the very least, I expected Christine Caine to freak out when she found out what was what. Arrogant idiot that I was, I couldnt believe that anyone else could react nearly as well as me to the discovery that theyd been locked in a freezer for more than a thousand years.
I was wrong about that too but Christine did have the advantage of remembering her trial and conviction. Her memory hadnt suffered any side effects at all.
She spent a little longer looking around than I had. She inspected her new suitskin very carefully indeed. It was pale blue, with false cuffs and boots similar to mine, although the sisterhood had stopped short of providing a matching codpiece.
The suit would have looked better on her if she hadnt been so thin. She was so emaciated that the surface of the clinging fabric was pockmarked by all manner of bony lumps. She would grow into it, I figured, but it would take time. She was a pretty young woman, seemingly very frail: a picture of innocence. If I hadnt known the reason for her confinement, Id have felt even more tender and protective toward her than I did. As things were, I had to remind myself that this was the closest thing to a contemporary I had, and the closest thing to a natural ally.
She touched her lips, then ran her fingers through her straggly blond hair, pulling a few strands forward so that she could examine the color and texture. She didnt approve of what she found, but she didnt seem surprised or offended. Then she made as if to stand up, but changed her mind, presumably undone by the discovery that her weight wasnt quite right.
She contented herself with looking me up and down very carefully. I wondered how sinister I seemed, dressed all in black, and wondered whether I might be handsome enough to be mistaken for the Prince of Darkness.
Fortunately, she must have rejected the hypothesis that she was in Hell without entertaining it for more than a moment. Her first words were: I hope this thing has a hole I can shit through. The word rang utterly false. She was trying to sound confident and assertive, but she couldnt make the pretence work.
It doesnt need one, I told her, having had time to investigate that particular matter. Its an authentic second skin. It lines your gut from mouth to anus, and your other bodily cavities too. The food goes through just as it used to. Fashions have moved on since our day.
Our day? she queried, exactly as Id intended her to.
Im like you, I said, a trifle overgenerously. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didnt say anything. I assumed that she was wary of reading the statement the wrong way. I woke up yesterday, I added, helpfully. Weve been away a long time.
How long?
I told her, expecting astonishment.
When she laughed I thought, at first, that she was hysterical. She wasnt. She was amused. I knew that she was probably in denial, just as I had been, because she probably felt even less like her old self than I had, but she wasnt letting it get on top of her. She was playing along, just as I had but she was better able to laugh than I had been.
I guess Im the record holder, she said, having taken the figures aboard with sufficient mental composition to note the difference between them. I always figured that I would be.
Not for long, I told her, slightly piqued by her composure. Theyll be bringing Adam Zimmerman back in a couple of days, just as soon as theyre convinced that you and I are as well as can be expected. Hes been away longer than either of us.
Why? What did he do?
You never heard of Adam Zimmerman? I countered, sighting the intellectual high ground.
It only required a moments thought. The man who stole the world, she recalled. I didnt realize theyd prosecuted him for that.
They didnt, I told her. He only helped the corpsmen run the scam
in order to get enough cash to make sure hed be taken care of once he was frozen down. He was a volunteer. He didnt want to die, so he decided to take a short cut to a world where everyone could live forever. He was the first, I think.
Good for him, she said. Then she paused for further thought.
This is all fake, isnt it? she said, eventually. Its just a clever VE. Im in therapy, arent I? This is some weird rehab program.
I dont think so, I said.
You dont think so?
If its a VE, theyre trying to fool both of us. Im not certain that it isnt but I do know that we have to work on the assumption that its real. Im Madoc Tamlin, by the way.
So what did you do, Madoc Tamlin?
I cant remember how or why I got put away, I told her.
That wiped the last vestiges of her smile away. She was obviously able to remember exactly how and why shed been put away. She seemed more frightened than angry, but there was a peculiar quality to her fear that I couldnt fathom.
Lucky you, she whispered. I got the impression that she didnt believe in my convenient lapse of memory.
It doesnt seem lucky to me, I told her. If I really did do something that pissed someone off enough to put me away for a thousand years, Id rather like to know what it was. As things are, I can only wonder whether someone was so afraid that I knew something that could hurt him that he worked hard to prevent my release, or whether I was simply forgotten.