If that wasn't love, it would do.
They married in Spain, with Anton and his new bride looking on. It had been dangerous to stay there as long as they did, though they tried to take the curse off it by leaving frequently with all their bags and then returning to stay in a different town each time. Their favorite city was Barcelona, which was a fairyland of buildings that looked as if they had all been designed by Gaudi--or, perhaps, had sprung from Gaudi's dreams. They were married in the Cathedral of the Sagrada Familia. It was one of the few genuine Gaudis still standing, and the name made it the perfect place for a wedding. Of course the "sagrada familia" referred officially to the sacred family of Jesus. But that didn't mean it couldn't also apply to all families. Besides, weren't her children going to be immaculately conceived?
The honeymoon, such as it was--a week together, island-hopping through the Balearics, enjoying the Mediterranean Sea and the African breezes--was still a week longer than she had hoped for. After knowing Bean's character about as well as one person ever gets to know another person, Petra had been rather shy about getting to know his body, and letting him know hers. But here Darwin helped them, for the passions that made species survive helped them to forgive each other's awkwardness and foolishness and ignorance and hunger.
She was already taking pills to regulate her ovulation and more pills to stimulate as many eggs as possible to come to maturity. There was no possibility of their conceiving a baby naturally before they began the in vitro fertilization process. But she wished for it all the same, and twice she woke from dreams in which a kindly doctor told them, "I'm sorry, I can't implant embryos, because you're already pregnant."
But she refused to let it trouble her. She would have his baby soon enough.
Now they were here in Rotterdam, getting down to business. Looking, not for the kindly doctor of her dream, but for the mass murderer who only spared Bean's life by accident to provide them with a child who would not die as a giant by the age of twenty.
"If we wait long enough," said Bean, "they'll close the office."
"No," said Petra. "Volescu will wait all night to see you. You're his experiment that succeeded despite his cowardice."
"I thought it was my success, not his."
She pressed herself against his arm. "It was my success," she said.
"Yours? How?"
"It must have been. I'm the one who ended up with all the prizes."
"If you had ever said things like that in Battle School, you would have been the laughingstock of all the armies."
"That's because the armies were all composed of prepubescent children. Grownups don't think such things are embarrassing."
"Actually, they do," said Bean. "There's only this brief window of adolescence where extravagantly romantic remarks are taken for poetry."
"Such is the power of hormones that we absolutely understand the biological causes of our feelings, and yet we still feel them."
"Let's not go inside," said Bean. "Let's go back to the inn and have some more feelings."
She kissed him. "Let's go inside and make a baby."
"Try for a baby," said Bean. "Because I won't let you have one in which Anton's Key is turned."
"I know," she said.
"And I have your promise that embryos with Anton's Key will all be discarded."
"Of course," she said. That satisfied him, though she was sure that he would notice that she had never actually said the words. Maybe he did, unconsciously, and that was why he kept asking.
It was hypocritical and dishonest of her, of course, and she almost felt bad about it sometimes, but what happened after he died would be none of his business.
"All right then," he said.
"All right then," she answered. "Time to go meet the baby killer, ne?"
"I don't suppose we should call him that to his face, though, right?"
"Since when are you the one who worries about good manners?"
Volescu was a weasel, just as Petra knew he would be. He was all business, playing the role of Mr. Scientist, but Petra knew well what lay behind the mask. She could see the way he couldn't keep his eyes off Bean, the mental measurements he was making. She wanted to make some snide remark about how prison seemed to have done him good, he was carrying some extra weight, needed to walk that off...but they were here to have the man choose them a baby, and it would serve no purpose to irritate him.
"I couldn't believe I was going to meet you," said Volescu. "I knew from that nun who visited me that one of you had lived, and I was glad. I was already in prison by then, the very thing that destroying the evidence had been designed to prevent. So I didn't need to destroy it after all. I wished I hadn't. Then here she comes and tells me the lost one lived. It was the one ray of hope in a long night of despair. And here you are."
Again he eyed Bean from head to toe.