relax the rules.”
“Ah,” said Ponter.
They continued on. The highway had veered away from Georgian Bay. To their left and right were Canadian Shield outcroppings and stands of pine trees.
“Have you thought about the future?” asked Mary, after a time.
“I think about nothing else these days.”
“I mean
our
future,” said Mary.
“So do I.”
“I—please don’t be upset; but I think we should at least talk about this possibility: when it’s time for me to return home, maybe you could come back with me. You know: move permanently to my world.”
“Why?” asked Ponter.
“Well, here we could be together all the time, not just four days a month.”
“That is true,” said Ponter, “but…but I have a life in my world.” He raised a large hand. “I know you have a life
here
,” he said at once. “But I have Adikor.”
“Maybe…I don’t know…maybe Adikor could come with us.”
Ponter’s one continuous eyebrow rolled up his browridge. “And what about Adikor’s woman-mate, Lurt Fradlo? Should she come with us, too?”
“Well, she—”
“And Dab, Adikor’s son, who is to move in with him and me the year after next? And, of course, there is Lurt’s woman-mate, and her woman-mate’s man-mate, and their children. And my minor daughter, Megameg.”
Mary blew out air. “I know. I know. It’s impractical, but…”
“Yes?”
She took one hand off the wheel, and squeezed his thigh. “But I love you so much, Ponter. To be limited to seeing you just four days a month…”
“Adikor very much loves Lurt, and that is all he sees of her. I very much loved Klast, but that was all I saw of her.” His face was impassive. “It is our way.”
“I know. I was just thinking.”
“And there are other problems. Your cities smell horribly. I doubt I could take that permanently.”
“We could live out in the country. Somewhere away from the cities, away from the cars. Somewhere where the air is clean. It wouldn’t matter to me where we were, so long as we are together.”
“I cannot abandon my culture,” said Ponter. “Or my family.”
Mary sighed. “I know.”
Ponter blinked several times. “I wish…I wish I could suggest a solution that would make you happy.”
“It’s not just about me,” said Mary. “What would make
you
happy?”
“Me?” said Ponter. “I would be content if you were in Saldak Center each time Two became One.”
“That would be enough for you? Four days a month?”
“You must understand, Mare, that I have difficulty conceiving of anything more than that. Yes, we have spent long stretches of days together here in your world, but my heart aches for Adikor while I am here.”
Mary’s face must have suggested that Ponter had said something insensitive. “I am sorry, Mare,” he went on, “but you cannot be jealous of Adikor. People in my world have two mates, one of each sex. To be resentful of my intimacy with Adikor is inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate!” snapped Mary. But then she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “No, you’re right. I understand that—intellectually, at least. And I’m trying to come to terms with it emotionally.”
“For what it is worth, Adikor is very fond of you, Mare, and he wishes you nothing but happiness.” He paused. “Surely you wish him the same, no?”
Mary said nothing. The sun was low on the horizon. The car sped on.
“Mare? Surely you wish Adikor happiness, do you not?”
“What?” she replied. “Oh, of course. Of course I do.”
Chapter Five
“Four decades ago, my predecessor in the Oval Office, John F. Kennedy, said, ‘Now is the time to take longer strides—time for a great new American enterprise.’ I was just a kid in a Montgomery ghetto then, but I remember vividly how those words made my spine tingle…”
Mary and Ponter pulled into Reuben Montego’s driveway just before 7:00P.M. Louise and Reuben both drove Ford Explorers—clear evidence, Mary thought with a grin,