Gene Wolfe - An Evil Guest

“We could have, and I intended to. But I wanted to get out of the city — away from all the settled areas — before I went up.”

“You said you were watched, or you thought you were.”

Gideon nodded.

“You were. It was the man you sent to get me at the ice cream store.”

“You’re right. May I ask how you found out?”

“I didn’t, really. But he’s Detective Lieutenant Something — ”

“Aaberg.”

“And the mayor called him to tell him to be nice to me. After he let me go, I started wondering why the mayor cared, and it had to be because Wally had phoned him. So if he could do that — ”

The stars jumped. And steadied.

“He said he had been watching my building to protect me. That didn’t make a lot of sense. What did was that he wanted to catch you.”

“You’re correct. As I was saying, I had to get away from the city where someone might have seen us. Then you woke, so I had to drive. I didn’t know how far I could trust you back then.”

“You trust me more now?”

“I have to. I love you too much not to.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. You already trust me much more than you have reason to. The least I can do is to trust you every bit as much.”

“What if you’re wrong? Or I am?”

“You know the answer. You’re not wrong about me, though. Am I wrong about you?”

For a minute or more, Cassie stared out at the stars, and at treetops growing at a pace that slackened moment by moment as the onboard computer slowed the descent of the black hopper. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I hope not.”

“I hope not, too.” Gideon cleared his throat. “This place we’re going to is called the Silent Woman. Perhaps I said that.”

“I think so.”

“It doesn’t mean you’ve got to keep quiet, but be careful what you say. There are people there, and things there, too, who have sharp ears. The lowest whisper will be overheard by someone.”

“I’ll watch it. You laughed when I said the FBI might be bugging my dressing room. Why was that?”

“Because I’ve been cooperating with them — up to a point. If they were, I would surely have been told about it.”

“You’re on their side?”

The black sedan was settling through the trees.

“To a degree, yes.”

“You’re working for Wally, too?”

“So are you.” The computer eased them to the ground with the smallest possible bump. “I don’t think you’ll need your coat. Want to leave it in here?”

“If you say so.”

She had unbuttoned her coat already, and she slipped out of it when he opened the door for her. “Where are we?”

“Here.” He pointed. “See those colored lights? That’s the Silent Woman.”

“I get eighty thousand if we catch Wally and turn him over to the FBI. Is that right?”

“It is.” Gideon’s voice was just above a whisper.

“Please don’t be mad, Dr. Chase. But I’m not sure I want to do it.”

“Nor am I.”

“Really?” Cassie felt that a weight had been lifted from her heart.

“Yes. First because I’m working for him. I’m doing it now, I’m very well paid, and I may be working for him for some time to come. Ethically, I can’t possibly turn him in while I continue to accept his money.”

“I can see that. You’re a good, good man. I always knew it.”

“And second — you might as well hear this, too — because my negotiations with the government haven’t been going as well as I would like. The money’s fine, and so are the honors. There are strings on them both, however. Onerous restrictions on my future operations.”

“I see...”

“There are other complications, too. But here we are.”

The ancient inn looked older than Carnac, a structure of odd angles, many dormers, and inscrutable projections, small-windowed and secretive, its stone walls furred with black moss. Tables and chairs had been set outside beneath towering trees whose lower limbs bore strangely shaped lanterns, grass-green and sea-blue.

The ears of the bowing waiter summoned by a snap of Gideon’s fingers were hairy and sharp. “Madame. Monsieur. Will there be more?”

Gideon shook his head, and the waiter led them to a table for two.

The bill of fare was in a language Cassie failed to recognize, one that might possibly have been Russian or Greek, although she had the feeling that it was neither. She studied hers for a second or more before she put it down. “I can’t read this.”

“Don’t worry,” Gideon murmured. “I’ll suggest a few dishes.”

“He spoke English to us. Was it because he recognized you?”

“Possibly. Or because you look Irish. Or for some third reason. Do you think you might like a nice duck with truffles?”

Memories of Rusterman’s came flooding back. “You know what we ate. Wally and me.”

Gideon glanced up. “Actually, I didn’t. I simply thought you might like duck.”

She shook her head.

“The lentil soup is superb, believe me.”

“Tell me about your leg, Gid.”

He grinned. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Gid since I washed.”

“Hurray. You were in a lot of pain right after it happened, but you said it would be all right.”

“I thought that it would be. The antibiotic I’d been given didn’t work, however, and it became infected. I had a violent reaction to the next one — you’ll pardon me, I’m sure, if I don’t tell you who was treating me — and nearly died. After that I told them I wasn’t going to take any more. Other methods didn’t work either, and in a few days they had to amputate my leg below the knee.”

“You’re still wearing the wooden one you wore onstage.”

“Correct. I had reasons for remaining Gil Corby when I went to your dressing room, the first and foremost being that Gideon Chase had no business being backstage. Is that enough?”

“The man who hurt your leg... ?”

“Who shot me. There’s no reason you shouldn’t say it. I’d be happy to give you his name if I knew it. I don’t.”

“You talk about a man named John. He’s phoned you a couple of times, or I think that’s what you’ve said. Could he have been the man who shot you? Or one of his friends?”

Gideon shook his head. “I saw the man who shot me. He didn’t resemble John. It wasn’t his face or his body type. As for it being a friend of his, I doubt it very much. His friends are good shots, and this man wasn’t.”

“I see.” Cassie nodded.

“Organizations act according to patterns, patterns from which they deviate only rarely. John and his friends are careful men, violent only when they have no choice. That doesn’t sound like the man who shot me, or the people who sent him to do it.”

Cassie nodded again.

“In addition to what I just said, John has compelling reasons to want me alive and active. You may give that more weight than I do, however. I’ve been involved with our government more than once, and know how often it acts contrary to its own best interests.”

“What about the man who bought me truffles?”

“That’s much more plausible, I admit.” Gideon picked up the menu. “Do you like Hopfenkäse?”

“I have no idea. What about our friend? The one I just asked about?”

“It’s a cheese. People usually eat it with beer, which I rarely drink. I just thought you might like it.”

Cassie shook her head.

“Our friend is a lot more plausible, I admit, and for twenty-four hours or more I felt reasonably certain he had done it. Then I found out that he was looking for me in the hope of protecting me and getting me better medical assistance.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It showed that he was still anxious to enlist me, if he could — that we were just haggling about price, in other words. If I were indebted to him, I might feel obligated to do as he asked. A tall man in a gray suit visited me, one who had visited you earlier. He told you he was from the FBI and tried to get you to call him if you saw me or heard from me. Remember that?”