#samtipton

[persimmonsimmer]

Her family members threw Citlali a few quizzical looks when she re-entered the house with Peter, but reserved their questions for later.

A frown flitted across Carl’s face at Peter’s entrance, but just as quickly passed.

"The two of you are too cute," she said to Carl and Miguel, adding a playful swoon.

It’s OK, she hoped it communicated. Nothing to worry about.

Caroming with Miguel around the room, he certainly didn’t seem threatened.

Just look at them together. This is what I want.

Peter quickly melted into the background as more guests filtered in.

First was Trevor, who made a beeline for the blond trader Austin.

"One guess who invited you," he said wryly.

"Yes. I suppose you could say I'm Nancy's date for the evening," Austin replied archly. "I saw no harm in accepting since, of course, the two of us aren't in a relationship."

"Sorry to break it to you, but I don't think you're Nancy's only date for the evening," Trevor said, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Sam Tipton, who'd just quietly entered on her own. "You might not get much attention from her tonight."

"Par for the course at a Morales family party." Austin sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'll have to find someone else to entertain me for the evening."

Next to arrive were Phoebe and Hannah, and Jeremy and heavily pregnant Meda, who quickly took a seat on one of the couches that had been pushed aside to make more space in the center of the room.

"Let me be the first to welcome you to the club," Jeremy said to Al.

"What club is that?"

"Handsome redheads who had the good sense to settle down with a stunning Panoraman woman, of course! You're a man of good taste, Al."

"Ah, thanks."

"Glad you could make it," Domingo said to Meda, taking a seat next to her.

"I wouldn't miss Leonor's wedding. I'm not sure how much mingling I have in me tonight, though."

"You're due soon?"

"First thing in spring. And believe me, it can't get here soon enough."

"It's a beautiful thing, a new baby," Domingo said wistfully. "But they don't stay babies for long. I can't believe how fast the years went."

Meda patted his shoulder. "You did a wonderful job."

Finally, with the arrival of Nadya and Walter Fuentes-Haddad, the guests were all gathered. They milled about, chatting easily, a current of expectation buzzing in the air.

"I know what you're trying to do," Trevor said, pulling Nancy aside.

"Like you mind."

"Maybe I do."

"Then why are you grinning? Relax, Trev. You'll thank me at your own wedding some day."

Trevor snorted. "You always know best, huh?"

"Yep," Nancy answered.

Cintia surveyed the scene with satisfaction, then raised cupped hands to her mouth. "Everyone, take your places. It's time for the ceremony!"

[persimmonsimmer]

Sam swallowed.

For the first time she could remember, Carl wasn’t smiling.

“I really didn’t know. I told her she had to stay behind. I never thought— I don’t know how she made it all the way here!”

Carl said nothing.

“She— I’ll be responsible for her. I’ll make sure she won’t cause any trouble.”

“She’s a headstrong child. A rule breaker. I’m not convinced you’ll have any say over whether she causes trouble or not.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t know if she can be trusted. At this point, I’m leaning toward a negative. And that means her presence here puts all of our plans in danger.”

Sam couldn’t deny it. Her little sister’s performance a moment ago had proved her to be more calculating than she ever would have believed before today. But what was there to do? She felt herself wilting under Carl’s cold glare.

“But she's right, isn't she?” she ventured, unable to meet his eyes. “She's told people here there's nothing left back home. If they believe I'm all she has, sending her away would look, uh, not good.”

Carl sighed. “A clever plan, and a clever little performance. I can't see a way around it, no. At the least, I can’t send her away without losing you, too. Even that would raise questions. And then what? These days, folks with engineering smarts don’t exactly grow on trees.”

He kneaded his temples. “I believe you had nothing to do with this, Sam, I do. I've seen how hard you've been working since you got here. But be that as it may, she’s your responsibility. You’ll have to watch her. Make sure she knows what’s at stake, and nothing more. Do whatever you have to to make sure she keeps her story straight.”

“She’s not going to say anything.”

“We have no option but to hope she doesn’t. This is a serious complication, Sam.”

Sam bristled. She was tired, and none of this was her fault, and he was treating her like a child, and all she wanted was to sleep and to be uncomplicatedly glad to see her sister again, and it was all too unfair and too much. “What about Citlali? If we’re going to talk about complications.”

Carl’s eyes cut into her like cold grey shards of flint. He took a step closer, and Sam inadvertently shrank back. “Citlali. knows. nothing,” he said quietly. “And she is not going to learn anything. She is not the problem here.”

Sam swallowed, nodded.

Carl pinned her with his gaze for another long moment, then turned away, paced across the room. For a moment, as he looked pensively out the window, it almost seemed like he'd forgotten her, but Sam knew better than to move until she'd been dismissed.

When he turned back to her and spoke again, his tone was almost normal. Politely interested. “Now. When you came in today, just before all of this—you said you’d found something?”

“Oh!” It was a testament to her shock at seeing Robin that the night’s findings had temporarily flown from her head, but now it all came rushing back. “Yes!” She was practically stumbling over herself in her haste to share what she'd witnessed. To get back into Carl's good graces. “I was at the build site . . . ”

[persimmonsimmer]

Sam relished the luxury of a long, hot shower.

By the time she was done, Citlali and her son had long since left. Carl was waiting for her.

Carl: “So?”

Sam: “Same as yesterday, and the day before. Levels are higher than background noise, but only just, and there’s no telling what’s doing it. It’s too faint. Diffuse. Almost like it's fading—but I'll need to take more readings to confirm even that much.”

Carl shrugged. “Then keep taking readings. Everything you've recorded so far confirms we’re in the right area. You’ll find something more concrete eventually.”

Does it? Will I? Or are you just seeing what you want to see?

Sam changed the subject. “What did Citlali want?”

Carl seemed to be friends, or at least on friendly terms, with most of the town. Many of the locals frequently dropped by to speak to him, but Citlali was by far their most regular visitor.

She always seemed to have some excuse for stopping by, whether because her son, who seemed enamored with Carl, was dying for a game of catch, or, occasionally, because she wanted to drop off a hot meal. (Whatever else she thought about Citlali's omnipresence, Sam was grateful for the food; neither she nor Carl was much of a cook.)

Carl: “One of her dogs is going to have puppies. She offered me one. I told her I’m liable to take the whole litter. Tempt me with a cute face and a pair of big brown eyes, and I just might not be able to help myself.” He chuckled.

Sam frowned. “A dog is quite a commitment.”

Carl grew more serious. “This is a long haul, Sam. You should try to accept that. You may as well start considering Panorama home.”

“It's not home for me. I told my sister I’d be back.”

Carl just shook his head. His small, maddening smile said You know better.

[persimmonsimmer]

There was soon a knock at the door, but it was just Meda stopping by to say hello.

Nancy may have been disappointed, but Cintia and Domingo were both delighted, seizing the opportunity to coo over her rapidly growing belly.

Cintia: "It'll be any day now!"

Meda: "Ha, I wish, but my due date's not until spring. Not that you'd think so to look at me! I just hope it's not twins again."

Cintia: "Oh, but would that really be so bad? Two new babies to love?"

Meda only smiled tightly and crossed her fingers behind her back.

Domingo: "Hello, little one! Can you hear me? It's your favorite honorary uncle!"

Meanwhile . . .

Just for a moment, maybe. 'Good afternoon. I was just passing by. You said you had a project you wanted to show me . . . ?' We are neighbors, after all; it wouldn't be a bad idea to get to know some of the locals a bit better . . .

. . . No. No.

*sigh*

Sam walked on.

[persimmonsimmer]

Sam's tired brain was still struggling to make sense of the scene in front of her when her sobbing sister flung herself into her arms.

“S-Sam!” her sister wailed. “There was a fire. I was the only one—Everyone’s d— dea—”

A . . . fire? Everyone else, dead? It didn't make any sense.

Above her sister's head, she saw Carl's cheek twitch.

“Poor thing,” Meda cooed, placing a comforting hand on her back.

“She wandered into town this morning. She was looking lost, asking for Sam,” Jeremy explained. “So we brought her here, and then she told us . . . what happened. I'm so sorry, Sam.”

“Terrible, terrible news,” Carl murmured gravely. “Thank you for bringing her to us, Jeremy, Meda. Sam and I will see to Robin from here.”

Meda reluctantly stepped away from the crying girl. “Let me know if either of you need anything,” she said. “I can brew a calming tea, if needed. . . . Or I can listen. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Head bowed solemnly, Carl walked Meda and Jeremy to the door. Then he locked it behind them.

Once they'd made it back across the street, he turned back to Sam and Robin.

His sympathetic expression was gone.

“Tell me, now, how it is you've come here.”

[persimmonsimmer]

The next day was a weekend, so Nancy generously offered to take Miguel to the new park to play.

Though she may have had ulterior motives.

Miguel: "What do you keep looking around for? I'm slowing down!"

Nancy: "Oops, sorry!" She gave gave the merry-go-round another push.

Miguel: "You're doing it again!"

Nancy: "Sorry, sorry--"

Suddenly Nancy's whole body jerked around.

Nancy: "Oh, hey! Sam! Hey, over here!"

Miguel knew he'd been forgotten.

Sam, who held a certain fascination for Miguel because she worked with Mr. Carl, approached sheepishly as Nancy continued to hail her enthusiastically.

Nancy: "I thought you might have a little more free time with Carl out of town, but I haven't seen you around in ages! Finally taking a break?"

Sam: "Ha. Sort of. Just a short walk, really." She massaged the back of her neck and stared at the ground.

Do they . . . like each other? Eugh.

Miguel hopped back aboard the merry-go-round. "Nancy, watch! I'm gonna make it go super fast!"

Nancy ignored him.

Nancy: "You should stop by the house sometime. You know, when you have a moment. I could, um, show you one or two of the projects I'm working on. Not that they compare to yours."

Sam: "Yeah . . . Maybe. . . . Anyway, I should--"

Nancy: "Oh yeah, sorry, I don't mean to keep you. But, uh, see you again soon! Hopefully."

[persimmonsimmer]

If there was one thing Nadya had learned over the years, it was that Carl knew how to get things done. Still, the plan he'd just described sounded too good to be true. Especially considering that it all hinged on the supposed expertise of a young woman, this Sam, who looked by all rights like she ought to be enrolled in one of Hannah Chen’s classes right alongside her own Farah and Mariam.

She spoke carefully.

Nadya: "You know building an electrical grid has been a high priority of mine. It would put us on the path to becoming a real city. Maybe the first to be built since Before. But, realistically, I didn't think we'd have the funds, or the expertise, to start working on one for . . . well, for decades. I’m still not sure we do."

Carl: "Which is where Sam comes in. It won’t be cheap, no, but with her guidance I’m confident we can do it without getting bogged down with mistakes and unexpected costs, and that’s always where the costs of a project really start to add up.”

Nadya scrutinized the woman seated next to Carl. She'd never known Carl to be wrong when he vouched for someone's skill. But she was so young.

Nadya: "You understand, everything would be riding on this project's success. It would have to be completed before the election after this one. And completed successfully." She turned to address Sam directly. "Are you sure you'd know what you were doing?"

Sam: "Yes, ma'am."

Nadya: "Even though, as you admitted earlier, you've never created anything on a scale anywhere close to this."

Sam: "Like I said, I've been messing around with wires and batteries since I was barely a kid. I've read every book on infrastructure and physics and chemistry and electrical engineering I could get my hands on.

"But each of my experiments required weeks of salvaging for the materials, so it’s true there was only so much I could do. It's been my dream to help bring electricity back to the world ever since I can remember, but I never thought I'd have the resources to do it. Not until Carl asked if I'd be willing to help you. I can do this. I swear."

Carl: "Sam here is a certifiable genius, I'm telling you. I've seen some of the things she's created from practically nothing. Marvelous contraptions. With her at the helm of this project, you and I both can rest easy."

Nadya: "I am tempted. But there's also the matter of the clinic I was hoping to build. We might be able to muster the funds for a grid if I raise taxes, but we certainly won’t have the resources to build both. The clinic would have to be delayed indefinitely. That would be very unfortunate."

Carl: “A clinic would be a real boon to the town, to be sure. But then again, how much more will Meda or anyone else be able to accomplish in a clinic until we’ve got electricity in place? I think the priority here's clear."

Nadya: “Still, some of the townspeople will be angry. They'll say I've gone back on my word.”

Carl: “Listen, Nadya.” Instead of wearing his usual wide smile, he was now serious, still-faced. “I know it’s a political risk. But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

Nadya: “Maybe . . . If we could just delay the start, a few years at most—”

Carl: “Much as I hate to put the screws to you, Nadya, I’m afraid Sam here, at least, needs an answer. She’s come all this way on my assurance there’d be a job for her at the end of the road, and, well, if that’s not the case, she has a family to get back to.”

Meaning we’ll lose our chance at this supposed wunderkind’s help forever, I suppose, Nadya thought sourly.

Nadya: “You have family back at home, Sam?” If only Carl would stop blathering at her, give her a few minutes to figure out how to swing this to her best advantage. “And where did you say home is, again?”

Sam’s eyes darted toward Carl.

Sam: “A little sister. And it’s so small, it doesn’t even have a name. We hardly ever even saw any traders, except for Carl.”

Nadya: “It must be hard to leave home behind, nevertheless.” She’d hardly registered Sam’s words. “Carl, you know I want this for Panorama. I do. Perhaps . . . if you could sweeten the deal for me . . . ?"

Carl: "What did you have in mind?"

He knew she was hooked. As suddenly as it had vanished, his usual smile had reappeared.

Nadya: "Just a little something for your crew to work on while this project is still in the planning stages. Something my fellow Panoramans can get some use from sooner rather than later."

It didn't take Nadya long to explain what she had in mind, and when she finished, Carl's smile was even wider than before.

Carl: "Is that all? Piece of cake. It'll be done before the winter's out."

Nadya: "Then you've got a deal, Worth."

Decisiveness. That’s what made her a leader.

Nadya: “Just tell me one thing. Where exactly do you find so many talented people? Your knack for it is almost uncanny."

Carl: "Ah-ah, Nadya. I can't go giving away all my secrets. Gotta leave you some reason to keep me around."

He beamed.

[persimmonsimmer]

She crashed through the door. “I found something!”

The rest died on her lips.

“Birdie?!”