Free At the Midnight Hour by Alicia Scott Page A

it go. What did it matter, what she thought of him? It wasn’t as if the entire town hadn’t already tried him and found him guilty. He’d spent the past five years listening to all the whispers behind his back when he went out, feeling all the curious stares. It wasn’t important.
    So after a moment he went along with her little game. It wasn’t as if he cared, he told himself. It wasn’t as if he cared at all.
    “The biggest breakthrough would be for solar cars,” he said finally, his voice distant and professional. “As the sun is only available for half a day, the major challenge is in trying to store the energy acquired during those hours for use after the sun goes down. Currently, such storage capacity requires the use of almost six hundred pounds of batteries. The weight alone is prohibitive. With the proper dielectric, however, it should be possible to build a supercapacitor that could store the necessary energy while weighing, say, fifty pounds. That, at least, is the theory.”
    She nodded, seizing the words. “But finding the right dielectric is hardly easy.”
    “No, it isn’t easy at all. But sooner or later, I will do it.” He said the words with such quiet conviction they were easy to believe. And she did believe him. If his dossier, and for that matter, his son, was anything to go by, the man was a virtual genius. She imagined he could do pretty much anything.
    Like kiss.
    She clamped down on the thought with a horrified gasp, once more rubbing her arms in unconscious agitation.
    “Are things improving with Andrew?” Richard’s voice cut in, his penetrating eyes still detailing her every action. She seemed upset, and for the first time, he wondered if it might have to do with more than him. He knew nothing about her at all, maybe there was something else— But then he dismissed the thought with a mental shrug. What did it matter? She wouldn’t be around much longer, anyway.
    “A little,” Liz said after a moment, trying to focus on the change in topic. “I’d still like to get him out more. He’s too hung up on all those books and depressing statistics. It’s not natural for a boy his age.”
    “I was like that when I was his age,” Richard observed quietly. Let her understand now, he thought. Let her understand just how different he was, before she started getting any ideas, any expectations otherwise.
    “What? You spent breakfast quoting how many people die every minute, as well?”
    “No. But I did, after all, read the phone book, not the Almanac. ”
    “Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked abruptly, whirling from the fire to face him for the first time. “He’s your son, for God’s sake. Aren’t you concerned?”
    “That’s what I hired you for, Miss Guiness,” he said slowly, and already she could see him tensing, the cold formality dropping like a shield between them. Yes, she thought it was something to be concerned about. Something abnormal, wasn’t that the word they all liked so well?
    “It’s not that simple,” she began, but he cut her off easily.
    “I believe we’ve already covered this matter, Miss Guiness. As I told you before, your job is to take care of Andrew, not analyze my relationship with him. Besides,” he said tightly, “I don’t think even that will be your concern for very much longer.”
    She eyed him warily, her focus now completely on the conversation at hand. “What do you mean?”
    The solution had occurred to him while he was in Geneva, and after some thought, he had decided it was a good one. It solved the problem of taking care of the child, and at the same time removed the child from Richard’s immediate concern. It was a perfect solution, benefiting Andrew and himself. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
    “Andrew is six years old now,” he began slowly, “and as you know, a very precocious child. I’ve been exploring educational options for him, and at his age, I feel he is more than capable of entering