HUMANITY 2.0
YEAR 029, DAY 039
I stirred the pot briefly, and then brought a spoonful of the chunky dark red substance to my mouth and sampled the mixture. It needed more pepper and cumin, but not yet. I'd give it another hour to stew. I closed the lid, leaving the machine on low heat, and then went back to the opposite counter. I set out the flour, some garlic, and a large bowl, and set to work making the bread.
We were at Nadine's "winter palace", as she called it, in Arizona β that's part of the southwestern desert in North America. The living room I overlooked was open to the air on one side; the whole house was set up that way, in the Spanish villa style. The living room was separated from the central plaza of the house β which was open to the sky β by only a few dark orange stone columns. Geometric patterns and pictures of simple plants and scenery adorned everything, another Spanish affectation.
It was hot, but not unbearably so, and a few ceiling fans lazily spun in the ceiling to keep me cool. I wore a loose pair of linen pants and no shirt, instead just donning my thick white apron before I set to work. It had been a gift from Emily a few months ago β it read 'Kiss the Cook', which seemed to be interpreted as a command most of the time I wore it.
We were living in the US again β that was the native country for all of the First Four, but not most of the others β and the Foot Clan hadn't been a problem since my rescue. Nadine hadn't been kidding when she told me that she was rich and powerful β she wasn't quite another Nigel Miller, but she had more than enough resources to keep us safely hidden away from any prying eyes or hostile forces.
Most of us hadn't quite gotten ourselves back out of the life-on-the-run mindset quite yet; Nadine's comparatively leisurely elite lifestyle left us all constantly feeling like the other shoe was about to drop. It would be another few years before we stopped constantly keeping a mental inventory of entrances and exits, and formulating ways to subdue anyone and everyone we met. Without the Foot Clan chasing her around, Nadine had had the opportunity to create and consolidate a massive financial empire β one which she now shared freely with us.
The big flatscreen in the living room was playing a news program I'd left on while I worked. They'd spent the last half-hour jabbering about something meaningless β all I remember was that it had to do with dog DNA β and they'd just gotten back to reporting things that halfway mattered. I mixed the dough up and pounded it into shape as I watched.
World War III, as it wasn't yet officially called, was well underway β between China, another powerful nation of the time, and a loosely affiliated array of other regional powers who weren't big fans of them. The US wasn't involved, and had had something of a rally lately β the last round of budget changes seemed to have actually done something β but it wouldn't last. It was only a matter of time before the war would make its way across the ocean. I even knew that much then.
I sighed. Could nothing be done? Nadine told me over and over that money couldn't solve any of these problems, only make them worse. She always said it with a sadness in her; I hadn't gotten her to elaborate much, only getting the impression she'd tried for many years to try and change things for the better and had eventually despaired. I shook my head as the program switched gears again, now going on about predictions of the worst hurricane season ever.
The TV suddenly clicked off. I had been looking briefly in on the chili again, and turned to see lovely Nadine putting down the TV remote. She wore a bikini top, plain white, holding up her generous boobs, and she had a blue towel wrapped around her waist. Her pale skin could never take the sun well, even after she became a hominus; I could see the shades of pink and red along the bridge of her nose, her shoulders, and upper chest where she'd burned a little. She was shoeless and her hair was damp; she must have just taken a swim. As she walked over toward the counter, sitting on a stool opposite it, she placed her head in both hands and rested her elbows on the table, and I smelled the tinge of chlorine on her from the pool. She smiled and watched me work for a time.
"I'll summarize the news for you: another day of bad to worse."
"About right." I gave a bored, humorless smile, my thoughts still dwelling on the worsening situation. I noted something missing from the crook of Nadine's arm. "Where's Tristan?" As I'm told he loves to remind everyone, that's my second child, and first son β born to Nadine only a few months ago.
"With Nina." Nadine let one hand fall, tilting her head as she let the weight of her head rest on the other. "I'm letting all of them borrow him as much as I can. Trying to spread the baby-making bug around, you know."
I chuckled. "Don't rush it. I don't want anyone pregnant but having second thoughts. We've got plenty of time."
"Maybe." She smiled. "Doesn't hurt to show him around, though. You know, remind them they could just as easily have one of their own. Every one of them is thinking about it when they hold him."
I shrugged. Nadine had only found out for certain about her increased lifespan after we were reunited; she hadn't quite yet found the patience we cultivate and even take for granted in one another. I was prepared to wait many years for any of the girls to come around on the subject of children; I was even prepared to accept some of them never wanting any, as long as it wasn't all of them. Nadine felt otherwise. Silence returned for a while as I went back to work, kneading the dough, shaping it, then finally placing it on the pans and putting it into the oven. Once the timer had been set, I looked back at her.
I leaned back, untying the back of my apron then hanging it on a peg. "Two hours or so before this is ready. Let's rest a bit."
"Let's." She slid off the chair, and fell in against my side as we stepped out into the plaza. Nadine still intrigued and surprised me daily; she could alternate between a calculating CEO and chairwoman, doting mother, and sweet, quiet lover, all in only a few moments. Her figure had not been diminished in any way after having her second child; her hourglass shape and wonderfully firm and heavy boobs still stood proud, even with the added weight of the milk she carried for Tristan.
We stepped out onto the veranda out the back of the house, which overlooked the Olympic pool just outside the back of the house; through its crystal-clear water, I could see two dark female figures submerged, sitting on the bottom of the pool. Rain must have challenged someone again...
I led her over toward a wide lounge chair under a massive umbrella, and laid down, pulling her down atop me. We had a nice view of the pool and the girls below β and from this angle, I noticed that I'd missed before that Bethany was there too, in a cute black one-piece, curled up on a wooden chair off toward a corner, under an umbrella herself and reading a book through sunglasses. She had a stopwatch resting on a table next to her. I could just make out the bulge of her pregnancy, now five months along.