Fatalis

"No. In fact," Grand said, "some scientists believe that humankind may actually be helping the planet. By keeping it warm enough, we may have prevented the Ice Age from returning."

"Do you believe that?"

Before he could answer, the figures appeared on the screen. Grand and Ha

"This is incredible," Grand said. "Eleven thousand years ago there were eight parts per million of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere compared to twenty-five parts per million now."

"That's an increase of 300 percent," Ha

Grand felt the same galvanizing frustration he did when he tried to understand the Chumash paintings from the passageway. The material was there, the answers were there, true and immutable. He simply didn't know how to interpret what he was seeing.

Maybe he wasn't seeing because he was looking too closely. Perhaps he needed to put the data in a larger picture.

"If the DNA test results can't be wrong and the age of the hairs has been confirmed, what's next?" Ha

Grand ignored the raspy voice of Professor Wildhorn as he walked around the department asking if anyone had seen his chair. He leaned forward and began typing again.

"What's next," Grand said, "is we take a step back. In math, a point doesn't tell you much. But two points define a line. We need to draw a line from our sample to another one just like it."

"Word association," Ha

"Pardon?"

"Never mind," Ha

Grand went back to the UCSB Web site and opened a comparative research program on the Biological Sciences Web site. He dropped the results of the DNA test into it.

"I'm having the computer search every biological file it has access to until it finds a match for the DNA," Grand said. "This could take five minutes or five hours, depending on how lucky we get. If you have other things you need to do I can phone you."

"No," Ha

"Not at all," he said.

The computer hummed, the breakers broke, and Grand suddenly felt warm behind the ears. The space between him and Ha

He reached for his hamburger and unwrapped it. As he did he noticed Ha

"What have you got there?" Grand asked. He had to say something.

"Excuse me?" Ha

He pointed at her neck.

"Oh." She smiled and pulled out a tarnished pair of dog tags. "My good-luck token."

"Were you in the military?"

"No. They belonged to my dad, in Korea. See how they're dented?"

She leaned closer to show him.

"I see," he said.

There was a moment, just an instant, when everything else in the room and in Grand's brain disappeared. He blanked on everything but the smell of the woman and the soft light on her throat. He felt warm and probably looked red all along the jaw. He hoped she didn't notice.

Ha

"What happened then?" he asked, the heat fading quickly from his neck and face.

"My dad read some of my stuff in the college paper," Ha

"So he gave them to you as a good-luck token."

"I thought it was a little over the top," Ha

"And now it's a habit."

"I do it without even thinking. I guess it's weird."

"Not at all," Grand said."Totems and amulets are as old as civilization. They can signify a unity with something- with your father, for example-or they can symbolize the protection of a deity."

"So I'm actually very cutting-edge New Age," she said. "Do you have anything like that? A rabbit's foot or a lucky squeezed pe

"No, but my father used to have this little ritual he did. He drove a bus in Los Angeles and every time he got in, he'd step up with his left foot first. When I asked him why he did that, he said the left was his heart side and it always made him think of life, his family, and how precious both of them were."

Ha

"My father's a great guy," Grand said. "He used to love talking to the regulars on his route. He's totally outgoing. My mother liked staying home, taking care of the house, and listening to opera. But as different as they were, somehow they just fit together."

"And they love you."

He nodded.

"What was the best thing they ever did for you?" she asked.

He looked at her. "That's an odd question. It's a good one, but strange."

"So what's the answer?"

He smiled. "The best thing they ever did was to take me to the Grand Canyon when I was six years old," he said. "When I was a kid I loved to collect comic books. I loved the art and I couldn't get enough of the most dramatic characters: Thor, the Spectre, the Flash, Sub-Mariner, Iron Man. Other kids were into kickball and dodgeball, but I was overweight and I didn't enjoy them."

"You were overweight?" she said.

"Yeah."

"My God," she said. "You could be a poster child for fitness."

"That also came from what my folks did for me," he said. "The kids at school started calling me Grand Canyon because I was so fat. So I just shut myself off from everyone. Comic books became my universe and my mother and father decided that probably wasn't a good thing. So during the summer between first grade and second, my parents decided to show me that the Grand Canyon wasn't just big, it was majestic and wonderful. They packed me and my younger sister Victoria in a car and we drove out there. I'd grown up knowing the mountains and the ocean but I have never imagined actually seeing anything like the awesome alien worlds and colorful subterranean realms I'd read about in comic books."

"That must have blown you away."

"Completely," he said. "Not only that, but the people who lived there loved the same things I did. They made animal fetishes-dolls of frogs, turtles, bears, and other creatures that were supposed to have magical powers. They made little corn maidens-witches that lived since the begi

Ha

Grand smiled back. "Thanks for asking. I didn't mean to get carried away."

"You didn't. And I liked it. Do you still see your folks much?"

"On Christmas and their a

Ha