A Perfect Machine(37)

Milo turned to Adelina, searched her face for an answer because words to ask a proper question would not come.

Adelina understood, said, “She can’t see or hear you, Milo. I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to. But Henry can.”

Milo turned his attention back to Henry. Felt a lump in his throat. Knew tears weren’t far behind. “Henry,” he said.

“Yeah, Milo, it’s me. Put the tray down. You’re freaking Faye out. Just set it down gently, OK?”

Milo looked down at the tray in his hands as though he’d no idea how it’d gotten there. “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head clear. “Yeah, sorry.”

Milo moved over to the coffee table, close to where Faye sat still staring in disbelief at Henry. With shaking hands, Milo set the tray down.

“Henry, are you going to tell me what in the fuck is going on? Who just destroyed my apartment?”

“Milo did,” Henry said. “He was just trying to… get my attention.”

Faye said nothing, just sat down on the couch, trying to get her breathing back under control.

There would be no expressions of disbelief from Faye. No doubting what Henry told her. She’d just seen something whip around her apartment, smashing everything to bits – that much was certain. If Henry said it was his Milo, then great. Mystery solved. She had no gas left in the tank to fight him. What she wanted more than anything right now was to sleep. Close her eyes, fall away from the world.

To Henry, Milo looked somewhat insubstantial. Not transparent, but more like how someone appears backlit against the sun on the horizon. Definitely there, but with shadows hovering, seeking to obscure.

Henry took two steps toward Milo, easily closing the distance between them. They stood in front of one another for a moment, then Henry reached forward and down, made to hug Milo – but as gently as he could. He neither knew what Milo was made of, nor had complete control of his new muscles. His arms encircled Milo, and Milo waited with his eyes shut for them to go through him. But they didn’t. They touched him. Held him as softly as metal could hold anything.

“Where were you?” Henry said, his mouth near Milo’s head.

“I’ve been with you the whole time, old friend. The whole time.”

Neither felt the need to say anything else, so they just stood like that, breathing, for a long moment.

When Henry pulled away and stood back up – as much as he could – he said, “Who else is here? I saw you looking at someone else earlier.”

Milo glanced at Adelina, who was shimmering and smiling nearby.

“Adelina,” Milo said. “A new friend.”

Henry nodded, looked in the same direction as Milo. “I don’t see her, but I believe you. After what’s just happened here – not to mention what’s happening to me right now – I’d believe anything.”

Adelina said, “He might see me soon, Milo. I hope he does. It would be an honor.”

Milo frowned at that, but his mind was having enough trouble keeping up with recent developments, so he just made a quick mental note to ask her later what she meant.

Milo looked at Faye, saw how frail and worn-out she seemed. “Tell her I’m sorry, would you, Henry? This was the only way I knew of reasserting myself in the physical world.”

“Milo says he’s sorry,” Henry said to Faye. “If he wasn’t dead, he’d offer to buy you new things.”

Faye didn’t respond. She was in no mood for humor. She was in no mood for anything. Her eyes were glazed, and she appeared to be breathing very shallowly. She sat completely still and just stared ahead into the middle distance. Seeing nothing. Not wanting to see anything.

Henry turned back to Milo. “She’ll come around.”

“Tell him what I told you now, Milo,” Adelina said. “It’s very important that he know.”

“Henry, listen,” Milo said. “Adelina says you can’t leave the apartment. At least not yet. She says they’ll kill you. Apparently, people know about you, that you’ve begun changing.”

“Palermo has men keeping an eye on this place,” Adelina said, clarifying. “You were careful, but not careful enough. They’ll know if you move, and where you’re moving to. There’s no point in going anywhere right now. We need to figure out our next move, then proceed very carefully.”

Milo related Adelina’s words to Henry, who stood nodding, then said, “Well, that’s fine. I’m not going to pretend I have any idea what’s happening to me, why Palermo wants to kill me, or what’s going on in a larger sense, but one thing is certain: someone is going to come looking for Steve. His ambulance is parked behind this building. And we need to do something about the body.”

Everyone looked at Steve’s cooling corpse. Everyone but Faye; she continued to stare at nothing, subconsciously fiddling with a loose thread in her pants.

“Why did you do that, anyway, Henry?” Milo asked. “I know he was going to take a picture, and that obviously wouldn’t have been good, but this was… unnecessary.”

“I know,” Henry replied. “I know. I don’t know why I did it. It happened very fast, and I didn’t feel like I was in control of myself when my arm shot forward and just…” He shook his head. “I felt like what was inside me – what makes me who I am, what makes me Henry – was the wrong version of me. Disconnected. Lost. Replaced by something… else.”