Saints Astray

“Yes.”



“No strings?”



Abernathy shook his head. “No strings.”



“I can go?” Loup bounced on the balls of her feet, filled with irrepressible energy. The manacles on her wrists jangled. “Really go? I can see Pilar?”



He smiled sadly. “I’ll miss you.”



“I’m sorry.” She caught his hands. “I will, too. Thank you. Thank you so much.”



“It was my honor. Truly.”



It took two more days to arrange the transfer of funds from Loup’s bank account in Switzerland, and then another day to sort out the paperwork, but after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the day of her release arrived. When the new day guard came to fetch her, he grinned and shook his head when she thrust her hands through the sliding window of her cell door.



“No more handcuffs,” he reminded her. “You’re free, sweetheart.”



“Oh! Right!”



He led her to a small dressing room where her civilian clothing and personal items were waiting for her in a plastic bag. Loup changed into her security togs and fastened Pilar’s necklace around her neck.



Tom Abernathy flushed at the sight of her. “That’s what you were wearing?”



“Yeah.” She glanced down at herself. “I was at the concert when they took me, remember? Working.”



“Yes, of course.” His flush deepened. “I’ve seen the footage. It’s just, um… more striking in the flesh. And there’s a press conference scheduled on the Capitol steps.”



“Is it a problem?”



He thought a moment and shook his head. “No. You know what? It’s not. You’re a bit of an icon. Why not give the people what they want?”



“Okay.”



Outside it was cool and gray and overcast, drizzling a little. Loup stood a moment, breathing deeply, reveling in the freedom. She spread her arms wide, feeling the dampness against her bare skin.



“Here.” Abernathy began to remove his coat.



“No thanks.” She shook her head. “I like how it feels. And I’m kind of warm.” She smiled. “Excited, you know?”



“All right, then.”



They drove past the checkpoints and left the detention center. Loup craned her head around, watching it diminish in the distance.



“Thinking about the others?” he asked her.



“Yeah.”



“Don’t worry. They’ll be all right.”



A security detail met them outside the Capitol building and escorted them up the steps past the throng of reporters. The journalists turned, cameras flashing. Loup gazed past them, feeling dizzy and weightless with anticipation, her heart expanding inside her like a helium balloon. Senator Ballantine was there with a considerable crowd of politicians and civilians surrounding him. She scanned the crowd impatiently, familiar and unfamiliar faces half registering, looking for one in particular.



Pilar.



Their eyes met.



The day didn’t need sunshine, only Pilar’s smile. Loup froze for a moment, unable to breathe, transfixed with happiness. The senator strode forward, beaming, his hand extended. His lips shaped words she couldn’t fathom. He stopped and followed her gaze, then gave her a courtly little bow and stepped aside, gesturing toward Pilar.



Loup found her breath and moved.



Fast—as fast as she could.



She caught Pilar around the waist and spun her in a circle, delirious with joy. Pilar laughed and cried at the same time, cupping Loup’s face and showering her with kisses. The press corps went wild with the cameras.



“I’ve missed you so much!” Pilar whispered against her lips.



“Me too.” Loup kissed away her tears. “It’s okay, you can stop crying now.”



She laughed through her tears. “I can’t! I’m too happy. Loup, promise me we’ll never, ever have to go through this again.”



Loup held her tight. “I promise.”



“Jesus,” a familiar voice rumbled. “It was only a few months! You’d think it was half a lifetime.”



She released Pilar reluctantly. “Hey, Mig!”



Miguel folded her in a gruff hug, pressing her head to his broad chest. “Good to have you back, kid.”



And then there were others pressing around. Loup shook Senator Ballantine’s hand, thanked him and all his aides. She thanked dozens of other politicians, their names passing in a blur.



Kate; Kate was there. All the boys. They posed for the photographers, Randall clasping Loup’s hand and raising her arm in a victory salute.



“You guys gonna come back to work for us?” he asked, giving her a sly smile from behind his bangs. “You’re still under contract and we’ve sold a lot of T-shirts.”



She laughed. “We’ll talk.”



At last the furor died and Senator Ballantine took the podium. He gave a speech about civil rights and the triumph of the human spirit, about truth, justice, and the American way, about reclaiming the nation’s dignity. Loup barely listened to it, letting his sonorous voice wash over her, content to have Pilar’s fingers entwined with hers.



“You okay, baby?” Pilar whispered. “Did they feed you enough?”



“More or less.” She squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t like last time, honest.”



“I worry! Did you do your meditation?”



“Yep. Every day.”



“Good girl.” Pilar gave her a long, lingering kiss. The cameras flashed.



“—a few words from Ms. Garron,” the senator said in conclusion. “After which I’m sure she’ll be happy to take your questions.”



Loup glanced up. “Huh?”



He beckoned her to the podium.



“Okay.” She stepped up to lower the microphone. “Umm… Hi. I wasn’t expecting this part. And I’m not really good at making speeches. That’s not a GMO thing,” she added hastily. “It’s just a me thing. I’m really happy to be here. Thanks so much to everyone who made it possible, and especially to all the soldiers who came forward. I wish I could thank everyone in person, but I don’t know all your names.”



“What do you plan to do next?” a reporter shouted.



“Like, right away?” Loup looked at Pilar and smiled. “Duh.”



A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.



“Ah… afterward,” the reporter clarified. “Obviously.”



“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “We kind of have an obligation to these guys.” She nodded at the members of Kate. “And I guess it’s sort of lucrative. But I’d really like to go home, too—at least to visit. To Santa Olivia. Outpost. I guess we’ll figure it out.” Inspiration struck her. “Hey, Pilar! Maybe we could set up, like, a scholarship fund?”



“For the Santitos?”



“Yeah!”



Pilar’s eyes shone. “That’s an awesome idea, baby!”



There were questions and more questions. Loup struggled to answer them gamely until Senator Ballantine stepped up and took the microphone back.



“Thank you all so much for coming,” he said cordially. “This is a great day in our nation’s history.”



The press dispersed, grumbling.



The senator presented Loup with an American passport. “Welcome to citizenship, Ms. Garron.”



She opened it to find her photo and her real name inside. “I get my name back? No more Guadalupe Herrera?” She glanced at Pilar. “Did you?”



“Yep.” Pilar showed her. “See? No more Mendez.”



Loup hugged her. “Hey! We’re us again!”



“Mm-hmm.” Pilar’s hands caressed her back. “Jesus! You have no idea how good you feel.”



Senator Ballantine cleared his throat and beckoned to his aides. “I believe your hotel reservations are in order. We’ll leave you to the obviously, shall we?”



“Okay!”



FORTY-NINE



Is this okay?” Pilar asked anxiously.



Loup surveyed the lowered lights, the lit candles, and the covered dish domes. Soft music was playing and a bottle of champagne chilled in a stand. “Are you kidding?” She lifted a dome and sniffed. “Lobster and steak?”



“I wasn’t sure. I wanted everything to be perfect.”



“It is.”



“Are you sure?”



“Pilar!” Loup pulled her close. It felt good, so unspeakably good, to have Pilar’s body pressed against hers, warm, lush curves melting into her embrace. She nuzzled her hair and breathed her in. “Yes. It’s perfect.”



Pilar pushed her away with an effort. “Eat first. I worry!”



“Okay. I am kinda hungry.”



She ate. It was luxury on luxury, the succulent lobster melting in her mouth, the filet tender and juicy. Pilar, watching. Eating, too, but mostly watching.



“Tell me everything I missed,” Loup said between bites.



“Oh God!” Pilar ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been crazy, baby.” She described the months of endless tension and suspense, the constant agony of uncertainty. “I just wished I could see you and know you were all right. That footage from backstage at the concert.” She shivered. “Did you know those stun gun things can actually kill people?”



“Uh… no.”



“Loup!”



“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She smiled. “I did see you, you know. On TV, testifying at the Outpost hearings. You were great.”



Pilar shrugged. “I just told the truth.”



“No.” Loup shook her head. “You made them feel what it was like to grow up in Outpost, made them believe. And when you addressed the GMO Commission…” She put down her fork. “Pilar, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have recommended to repeal the amendment if it wasn’t for you. Miguel, too—but especially you.”



She turned pale. “Don’t say that!”