James turned the illuminator on low and took out his father's pocket watch. Holding it carefully, he flipped it open. The time was 6:36. A small photograph of Rachael smiled at him from inside the cover. He smiled back at the photograph as he wound the watch. After closing it, he put it back into his pocket, the smile still lingering on his lips.
"What time is it?" Paul asked.
"6:37."
James turned the illuminator up and unpacked some clean clothes. He removed the labels from a set of blue ones and laid them on the end of the cot.
"Would you like to wash up before breakfast?" James asked as he opened a chemically treated wet cloth and handed it to Paul.
Paul raised up on one elbow and took the cloth.
"I think I can wash myself, if you don't mind."
"I anticipated as much. I laid out fresh clothes for you to wear and if you need any help, I'll be back soon."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the stream to wash. I shouldn't be gone very long."
Taking a change of clothes for himself, James disappeared through the trap door, leaving Paul alone to wash and change clothes.
At the stream, James took a small plastic bag from his pocket and filled it with mud. He set it on the ground beside the rock on which he placed the clean clothes. With haste, he stripped down to his black swim trunks and waded out into the crystal clear water. As he rapidly washed in the frigid, waist high water, he thought of the climate control, the heated pool, warm towels and thick carpets. He dried on the cold white towel and put on the clean clothes. He took the dirty laundry and the bag of mud and hurried back to the cabin.
As he walked, the sunlight danced on the silver threads in the light gray tunic, setting it ablaze with light.
He knocked twice and climbed down the ladder into the cellar.
"What's that?" Paul inquired.
"Mud." James stated as he set the bag in the corner by the ladder.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I'll show you after breakfast. Are you hungry?"
"Hungry? I'm famished!"
James put the dirty laundry in the dispose-a-bag and started looking through the boxes of food.
"I see you managed without my help."
"No problems at all. How was the water?"
"The water was so cold, I've still got icicles on my toes."
Paul was sitting on the cot wearing one of James' light blue tunics and dark blue pants. His eyes shimmered a soft blue in the illuminator light.
Hazel, James thought. His eyes must be hazel.
"Do you think we could have this meal at the table?"
"Do you really feel up to it?"
"I can't stay in this bed forever. I'm well enough that I can run if I have to."
James opened the selected cans and packages and put them on the table.
"It's not like my housekeeper used to serve, but it's ready."
Paul made an effort to get up off the cot.
"Here, let me help." James extended his hand.
"Marvelous idea. Two steps to the table and I can't even get up off the bed without help."
"There is nothing wrong with accepting help when it's needed. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You're doing remarkably well."
James turned his chair around to the table and seated himself at Paul's right.
Reverently, Paul bowed his head. To be respectful, James did likewise.
"I offer my heart," he stated simply.
The meal was eaten in silence. When they finished, James helped Paul back to the cot, then cleared the table.
Paul watched in silence as James took a briefcase from one of the shelves and laid it on the table.
"Everything is computerized," James complained, "so very convenient."
His fingers seemed to fly across the row of tiny buttons, pushing the right ones in the correct sequence to open the case. He took out his pocket knife and inserted the blade into the slot that locked the case.
"What are you doing?"
"I am removing a series of eight digits from my life. The case will now close but not lock."
James stuck the knife in the top of the table near the wall. Sitting with his back toward Paul, he occupied himself with the contents of the case.
Paul waited quietly and after several minutes,James turned to face him.
"You shaved!"
"Would you like to shave?"
James handed him a small, metal object, which he examined closely. He estimated it was about five millimeters in length and about three millimeters in width, with a thickness of about one and a half millimeters. It probably weighed less than an ounce. It seemed to be solid, except for the grid along one side.
"I've never seen a razor like this before. What makes it work?" He asked, as he turned it around to re-examine all sides.
"I'm not sure, but I think it's about the same as a laser beam."
"How many shaves will it get?"
James could tell he would be plagued with questions until he answered them all."
"It lasts a lifetime, never needs recharging or repairs. It's silent, you never have to clean it, sharpen it, or replace any parts. You never have to worry about nicks, cuts or razor burn. It gives you a perfect shave every time."
He helped Paul sit down at the table and he took Paul's place on the cot. Paul looked into the mirror that was inside the case. He noticed the wound on his forehead was barely noticable and his blond hair was much longer than he remembered it to be. As he moved the razor across his face, the whiskers disintegrated. When he finished, he sat for a moment admiring the quick, clean efficiency of the razor.
"This is even better than I thought it would be."
He turned to face James.
"You shaved your mustache!"
"Should I have spared it?"
Paul noticed that James was actually smiling. His face was glowing with life and his brown eyes sparkled. Two rows of beautiful white teeth gleamed in the light. It was so good to see a warm smile that came from the heart instead of the lips. It was worth shaving off his mustache to see a real smile on James' face. The smile faded as he spoke, but it was one smile that Paul was sure he wouldn't forget.
"No, of course not. It made you look much older."
"If I don't get some exercise, I might not have a chance to get much older."
He managed to stand up alone by holding to the edge of the table. With James at his side, he walked the ten steps to the ladder, then back.
"I think that's enough for now," James said as he helped him sit down on the cot.
"Let me do it without any help."
James put the briefcase away then sat in the chair to watch Paul as he made the short walk to the ladder and back, alone. He was slow and somewhat unsteady. James was relieved as Paul sat back down on the cot. Feeling rather tired and weak, Paul leaned back against the wall.
"Tell me about your job. Why did they make you a tracker?"
"You are a most curious one, aren't you?"
"You might say so. The difference between curiousity and concern is sometimes indistinguishable."
James turned the chair around to face Paul then sat back down.
"I don't really know how or why I got the job. It made very little difference. At the time, I didn't care. They could have given me any kind of job and I would have accepted it willingly. My only concern was for my father. All I wanted was for them to free him. That was all I cared about."
It was at this time they heard more noises. James turned the illuminator off and they waited and listened. There was the distinct sound of footsteps on the floor above them. It sounded as though the footsteps went back outside, but the men continued to wait silently in the darkness. It seemed they had waited a long time when James finally whispered.
"Paul."
"What?"
"I think they've gone. I'm going out."
"Be careful, James."
James turned the illuminator on low and went upstairs to check. It wasn't very long until he returned.
"I didn't find any traps, so we still don't know if it was the System or not."
Paul slowly got to his feet and walked over to the ladder. He stood for a moment holding to a rung, looking up at the trap door.
"I don't think you should try to climb the ladder just yet. Your ribs need time to heal."
"I could do it today, right now. But on the advice of my doctor, I won't go out until tomorrow. I don't think my doctor realizes the urgency of the situation, and the great need for me to be able to move rapidly."
"I think you've made a wise decision and you can be assured your doctor does understand." James resigned from the conversation as he consulted his watch. The time was 10:14 and Rachael still smiled contentedly as though she were pleased with him.
Paul spent the next hour walking the short distance to the ladder and back, over and over again, while James watched in silence.