the eagle with the vole.
He looked up at the vivid light, noticing the figure of a young woman who hung in the air with outstretched arms above the diving board. Suspended over the water, in a swallow dive, her naked body flew as serenely as the dolphins above the sea. Her calm face gazed at the glass floor ten feet below her small, extended palms. She seemed unaware of Mallory, her eyes fixed on the mystery of her own flight, and he could see clearly the red marks left on her shoulders by the harness straps of the glider, and the silver arrow of her appendix scar pointing to her childlike pubis.
The cheetah was drawing closer now, its claws picking at the threads of dried blood that laced Mallory’s shoulders, its grey muzzle retracted to show its ulcerated gums and stained teeth. If he reached out he could embrace it, comfort all the memories of Africa, soothe the violence from its old pelt.
Time had flowed out of Florida, as it had from the space age. After a brief pause, like a trapped film reel running free, it sped on again, rekindling a kinetic world.
Mallory sat in a deck chair beside the pool, watching the cheetahs as they rested in the shade under the glider. They crossed and uncrossed their paws like card-dealers palming an ace, now and then lifting their noses at the scent of this strange man and his blood.
Despite their sharp teeth, Mallory felt calm and rested, a sleeper waking from a complex but satisfying dream. He was glad to be surrounded by this little zoo with its backdrop of playful rockets, as innocent as an illustration from a children’s book.
The young woman stood next to Mallory, keeping a concerned watch on him. She had dressed while Mallory recovered from his collision with the cheetah. After dragging away the boisterous beast she settled Mallory in the deck chair, then pulled on a patched leather flying suit. Was this the only clothing she had ever worn? A true child of the air, born and sleeping on the wing. With her overbright mascara and blonde hair brushed into a vivid peruke, she resembled a leather-garbed parakeet, a punk madonna of the airways. Worn NASA flashes on her shoulder gave her a biker’s swagger. On the name-plate above her right breast was printed: Nightingale.
‘Poor man — are you back? You’re far, far away.’ Behind the child-like features, the soft mouth and boneless nose, a pair of adult eyes watched him warily. ‘Hey, you — what happened to your uniform? Are you in the police?’
Mallory took her hand, touching the heavy Apollo signet ring she wore on her wedding finger. From somewhere came the absurd notion that she was married to Hinton. Then he noticed her enlarged pupils, a hint of fever.
‘Don’t worry — I’m a doctor, Edward Mallory. I’m on holiday here with my wife.’
‘Holiday?’ The girl shook her head, relieved but baffled. ‘That patrol car — I thought someone had stolen your uniform while you were… out. Dear doctor, no one comes on holiday to Florida any more. If you don’t leave soon this is one vacation that may last for ever.’
‘I know…’ Mallory looked round at the zoo with its dozing tiger, the gay fountain and cheerful rockets. This was the amiable world of the Douanier Rousseau’s Merry Jesters. He accepted the jeans and shirt which the girl gave him. He had liked being naked, not from any exhibitionist urge, but because it suited the vanished realm he had just visited. The impassive tiger with his skin of fire belonged to that world of light. ‘Perhaps I’ve come to the right place, though — I’d like to spend forever here. To tell the truth, I’ve just had a small taste of what forever is going to be like.’
‘No. Thanks.’ Intrigued by Mallory, the girl squatted on the grass beside him. ‘Tell me, how often are you getting the attacks?’
‘Every day. Probably more than I realise. And you…?’When she shook her head a little too quickly, Mallory added: ‘They’re not that frightening, you know. In a way you want to go back.’
‘I can see. Take your wife and leave — any moment now all the clocks are going to stop.’
‘That’s why we’re here — it’s our one chance. My wife has even less time left than I have. We want to come to terms with everything — whatever that means. Not much any more.’
‘Doctor… The real Cape Kennedy is inside your head, not out here.’ Clearly unsettled by the presence of this marooned physician, the girl pulled on her flying helmet. She scanned the sky, where the gulls and swallows were again gathering, drawn into the air by the distant drone of an aero-engine. ‘Listen — an hour ago you were nearly killed. I tried to warn you. Our local stunt pilot doesn’t like the police.’
‘So I found out. I’m glad he didn’t hit you. I thought he was flying your glider.’
‘Hinton? He wouldn’t be seen dead in that. He needs speed. Hinton’s trying to join the birds.’
‘Hinton…’ Repeating the name, Mallory felt a surge of fear and relief, realising that he was committed now to the course of action he had planned months ago when he left the clinic in Vancouver. ‘So Hinton is here.’
‘He’s here.’ The girl nodded at Mallory, still unsure that he was not a policeman. ‘Not many people remember Hinton.’
‘I remember Hinton.’ As she fingered the Apollo signet ring he asked: ‘You’re not married to him?’
‘To Hinton? Doctor, you have some strange ideas. What are your patients like?’
‘I often wonder. But you know Hinton?’
‘Who does? He has other things on his mind. He fixed the pool here, and brought me the glider from the museum at Orlando.’ She added, archly: ‘Disneyland East — that’s what they called Cape Kennedy in the early days.’
‘I remember — twenty years ago I worked for NASA.’
‘So did my father.’ She spoke sharply, angered by the mention of the space agency. ‘He was the last astronaut — Alan Shepley — the only one who didn’t come back. And the only one they didn’t wait for.’
‘Shepley was your father?’ Startled, Mallory turned to look at the distant gantries of the launching grounds. ‘He died in the Shuttle. Then you know that Hinton…’
‘Doctor, I don’t think it was Hinton who killed my father.’ Before Mallory could speak she lowered her goggles over her eyes. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. The important thing is that someone will be here when he comes down.’
‘You’re waiting for him?’
‘Shouldn’t I, doctor?’
‘Yes… but it was a long time ago. Besides, it’s a million to one against him coming down here.’
‘That’s not true. According to Hinton, Dad may actually come down somewhere along this coast. Hinton says the orbits are starting to decay. I search the beaches every day.’
Mallory smiled at her encouragingly, admiring this spunky but sad child. He remembered the news photographs of the astronaut’s daughter, Gale Shepley, a babe in arms fiercely cradled by the widow outside the courtroom after the verdict. ‘I hope he comes. And your little zoo, Gale?’
‘Nightingale,’ she corrected. ‘The zoo is for Dad. I want the world to be a special place for us when we go.’
‘You’re leaving together?’
‘In a sense — like you, doctor, and everyone else here.’
‘So you do get the attacks.’
‘Not often — that’s why I keep moving. The birds are teaching me how to fly. Did you know that, doctor? The birds are trying to get out of time.’
Already she was distracted by the unswept sky and the massing birds. After tying up the cheetahs she made her way quickly to the glider. ‘I have to leave, doctor. Can you ride a motorcycle? There’s a Yamaha in the hotel lobby you can borrow.’
But before taking off she confided to Mallory: ‘It’s all wishful thinking, doctor, for Hinton, too. When Dad comes it won’t matter any more.’
Mallory tried to help her launch the glider, but the filmy craft took off within its own length. Pedalling swiftly, she propelled it into the air, climbing over the chromium rockets of the theme park. The glider circled the hotel, then levelled its long, tapering wings and set off for the empty beaches of the north.
