Sixty Days and Counting

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Book: Read Sixty Days and Counting for Free Online
Authors: Kim Stanley Robinson
Tags: Speculative Fiction
do that, given the situation.”
    “Yes, it seems that way, doesn’t it? Although Washington has a way of bogging people down.”
    “The swamp.”
    “Yes, the swamp. But if the swamp freezes over”—they laughed—“then maybe we can ice-skate over the obstacles!”
    Frank nodded. “Speaking of which, we were supposed to be going to try ice-skating down here, when the river froze over.”
    “That’s right, we were. But now we’ve got this so-called heat spell.”
    “True. Return of the Gulf Stream.”
    “That is so crazy. I bet we will get freezing spells just like before.”
    “Yes. Well, until that happens maybe we can just walk the shore then, and see where you could rent ice skates when the time comes.”
    “Sure. I think the Georgetown Rowing Club is going to do it, we can go check it out. I read they’re going to convert when the river freezes over. They’re going to put out floodlights and boundary lines and everything.”
    “Good for them! Let’s go take a look after dinner.”
    And so they finished the meal cheerfully, moving from one great Levantine dish to the next. Even the basics were exquisite: olives, hummus, dill—everything. And by the time they were done they had split a bottle of a dry white wine. They walked down to the Potomac arm in arm, as they had in Manhattan so very briefly; they walked the Georgetown waterfront, where the potted shrubs lining the river wall were lit by little white Christmas tree lights. All this had been overwhelmed in the great flood, and they could still see the high-water mark on the buildings behind the walk, but other than that, things were much as they had been before, the river as calm as a sheet of black silk as it poured under the Key Bridge.
    Then they came to the mouth of Rock Creek, a tiny little thing. Following it upstream in his mind, Frank came to the park and his treehouse, standing right over a bend in this same creek—and thus it occurred to him to think, Here you are fooling around with another woman while your Caroline is in trouble God knows where. What would she think if she saw you?
    Which was a hard thought to recover from; and Diane saw that his mood had changed. Quickly he suggested they warm up over drinks.
    They retired to a bar overlooking the confluence of the creek and the river, on the Georgetown side. They ordered Irish coffees. Frank warmed up again, his sudden stab of dread dispelled by Diane’s immense calmness, by the aura of reality that emanated from her. It was reassuring to be around her; precisely the opposite of the feeling he had when—
    But he stayed in the moment. He agreed with Diane’s comment that Irish coffee provided the perfect compound of stimulant and relaxant, sugar and fat, hydration and warmth. “It must have been invented by scientists,” she said. “It’s like it’s made to a formula to hit all the receptors at once.”
    Frank said, “I remember it’s what they always used to serve at the Salk Institute after their seminars. They’ve got a patio deck overlooking the Pacific, and everyone would go out with Irish coffees and watch the sunset.”
    “Nice.”
    Later, as Frank walked her back up through Georgetown to her car, she said, “I was wondering if you’d be interested in joining my advisory staff. It would be an extension of the work you’ve been doing at NSF. I mean, I know you’re planning to go back to San Diego, but until then, you know…I could use your help.”
    Frank had stopped walking. Diane turned and glanced up at him, shyly it seemed, and then looked away, down M Street. The stretch they could see looked to Frank like the Platonic form of a Midwestern main street, totally unlike the rest of D.C.
    “Sure,” Frank heard himself say. He realized that in some sense he
had
to accept her offer. He had no choice; he was only in D.C. now because of her previous invitation to work on the climate problem, and he had been doing that for a year now. And they were friends, they

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