Gene Wolfe - An Evil Guest

Their food arrived.

“If they’re watching you, would they have followed us up north?”

“I doubt it.” Gideon was spreading whipped butter on his French toast. “Why do you ask?”

“If you had said yes, I’d have asked how they could do it.”

“Because of the car, you mean?”

“Because you drove so fast. You burned up the roads and we never got stopped. I’ve been wondering how you got away with that.”

“Nothing complicated. We went late at night in a black car that’s invisible to radar.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Certainly not, and your toast is getting cold.”

Obediently, Cassie cut a small triangle from the uppermost slice and conveyed it to her mouth.

“When one feels one may be watched,” Gideon murmured, “one is constantly eyeing strangers.”

“How in the world did you get hold of a thing like that?”

“As a bonus, that’s all. I did a little work for a company that builds military hoppers. They wanted to give me some sort of gift, so I asked for the car.”

“As easy as that.”

“Yes. We’ve gotten far off the track with all this. I’d like to get back on it. Margaret has that bracelet. Positioning devices and listening devices can be made smaller than you would believe.”

“Then it would be easy to put them in there. It’s a great big clunky thing. Did I say so?”

“I don’t believe you did.” Gideon took another bite of French toast.

“Well, it is. You know who’d wear something like that? The Volcano God, that’s who. It’s — it’s barbaric. He’s got volcano gods on the brain, and where did he get that show anyway?”

“What show?”

“Didn’t I tell you about it?”

“No. You’ve actually told me very little. Tell me about the show.”

“It’s a musical laid in the Pacific in sailing-ship times. I’m Mariah, a missionary’s daughter. I date the Volcano God, and that’s all I know about it. Reis says he’s got the book — that’s the spoken lines — but not the songs. There’ll be singing and dancing, costumes and big sets, all the stuff they’ll need for New York and London.”

Cassie paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, that bracelet really does look like something the Volcano God might give a girl. Primitive.”

“A diamond bracelet? I doubt it.”

“It isn’t. There aren’t any stones at all. Just a lot of gold.” Cassie’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. “I said something, didn’t I? What was it?”

“You may have. I don’t know. You don’t have the bracelet now? You gave it to Alexis’s dresser?”

“I didn’t give it to her.” The morsel of toast on her fork attained its fated destination, and Cassie chewed and swallowed. “All right, I gave it to her to keep for me, but she’s not Alexis’s dresser anymore. She’s mine.”

“She still has it?”

“As far as I know.”

“Do you have a number for her? When will you see her again?”

“Her business card should be in my purse.” Cassie opened it and began to search. “I said for her to call me... When was it?”

“I have no idea.”

“I don’t think I was very specific about it. Just call me this afternoon. What time is it?”

“Twelve thirty.”

“Why do you wear a watch? You never look at it.”

When Gideon said nothing, Cassie added, “How’s the French toast?”

“Delicious. First, I wear this particular watch because it once belonged to someone I admire. Second, I wear a watch — a watch in the abstract — to keep people like you from asking why I don’t. Third, I wear a watch because there are times when I wouldn’t know the time if I didn’t have a watch. Satisfied?”

“Yep. Can I see it?”

“You may.” Gideon took off his watch and handed it to her.

“You don’t wear it when you sunbathe. Or climb into a tanning cabinet. Or whatever it is you do.”

“I don’t do those things. This is the way I was born; I would have thought my eye color and hair would make that clear. Aren’t you interested in my watch?”

“Yes, but I’m a lot more interested in you.” Cassie turned the watch over. Its back read: RC from his friend HPL . “This is a man’s watch,” she said. “Its face is twice as big as the one on my watch, and it has a big heavy gold-plated band. Are you following me?”

Gideon said, “I don’t think so.”

“Well, this watch is a lot smaller, and a whole lot lighter than the bracelet our angel Wally Rosenquist gave me.”

“Wally Rosenquist?” Gideon raised an eyebrow.

“It’s what I have to call him. Mr. Rosenquist. Same initials, assuming Bill’s short for William. He’s probably got monogrammed stuff.”

“I imagine. Cassie, I want that bracelet. You let Margaret keep it for you. Would you be willing to let me borrow it for a few days? I won’t damage it.”

“Too bad. I was hoping you would. Yes, I will — with bells on. I’ll have Margaret meet us wherever, and hand it over to you as soon as I get it back.”

“Fine. You were talking about dating the Volcano God, and you seem to have shared a cab with — ”

“A limousine. Huge. Built-in vid. Built-in bar. All that stuff.”

“I stand corrected. What I want to know is whether you dated our friend W.R.”

“Not yet.”

“What did you do, in that case?”

“Went home. I had said I wanted to go home. Ebony wanted to talk to me in the bar instead. This was at the cast party — have I said that?”

Gideon shook his head.

“Well, it was. Wally got me away from her and into his limo. We talked a little, and drank some stuff that tasted like lighter fluid. Then he took me back to my apartment. I told him he didn’t have to come upstairs with me, but he said he wanted to see me safely to my door. So he did. I kept telling myself that if he tried to force his way in I was going to pull my gun and shoot him. I was tight by then, and I might have done it.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No. He’s not like you. How did you get into my apartment, anyway?”

“I meant to show you,” Gideon said, “and I’d rather show you than tell you, so I’ll try to make this brief. The apartment next to yours is the mirror image of yours. That arrangement simplifies plumbing and wiring, including the trivid connection; so it’s very common. Specifically, the living room mirrors yours. Thus there’s a couch with its back to your own, on the other side of the wall.”

Cassie nodded.

“I entered that apartment without difficulty after having learned that the family wasn’t home. There’s a hole in your wall now, behind your couch. I made it, pushed your couch aside, crawled through, cleaned up a little wall-board dust, and put your couch back before you returned from the theater.” He looked apologetic. “Now tell me more about last night.”

“Just like that? You broke into my place.”

“You’re right, I did. I apologize, but I strongly suspected I was being watched and the matter was urgent. Our friend frightened you. If I’d simply arranged to meet you they might have gotten to you first. Do I have to say these things, Cassie?”

“I guess not.” She sipped coffee. “Last night I was still scared, even after I’d shut the door and bolted and chained it, and turned on the alarm. I went to the balcony windows and looked down at his limo. It was white and as big as they come. The driver was standing by the open door in back waiting for Wally to come out, and I wanted to see him leave my building and get into his limo and go away. I never did, but he must have because the driver closed the door and got in front.”

“He drove away then?”

Cassie nodded.

“But you didn’t see our friend come out... ?”