Gene Wolfe - An Evil Guest

This was her first case, for which all the others, the skips and the shoplifters, the frauds, the cheaters, and the missing heir had been mere practice.

No, entertainment. Busywork...

Once she had made chains of colored paper, snipping out each link with clumsy, careful scissors, welding each closed with fubsy fingers that knew but little of tape and nothing of chains.

She escaped — or was rejected. Too dead to drown, she was cast up by the surf and nibbled by sea-green crabs that scuttled away when the footfalls sounded.

A man as large as any wrestler rolled her over. He might have had her there, there on the strand. So she thought and prepared herself to be violated, promising him that she was no longer sea-chilled but warmed now by the sun, sun-warmed and dead and welcoming his love. Surely there were those who spent their seed in the dead, who caressed cadavers such as she and struck them afterward in the corruption of their love?

He was not of their number. He took her in his arms, cradling her as he might have cradled a child, and carried her to the tiny cemetery behind the infirmary, went inside and told a nurse that he had found a body, a haole wahine , a white woman, dead.

The nurse had gone to look at her and had him carry her into an examination room. There she had lain faceup, salt water trickling from nostrils white as snow, as though the snow melted under the bright lights, melted in the cool air of the infirmary as it had in the warm sunlight of the beach.

There Dr. Schoonveld had tried this and that, a mask that breathed deep for her who did not breathe, stimulants injected directly into the heart muscles, shock.

He declared her dead and returned her to the cemetery, where she had vomited salt water, groaned, and wept for the grave this vomiting, these groans, denied her.

CASSIE started, and found herself alone and trembling, staring down at the dead woman who had...

Clasped her hands, if it had not been a dream. She shook herself and shivered, suddenly lonely for the strong arms that had held her through the night, for the furry hands of winged friends who grasped strange knowledge.

The arm of the woman who lay before her was limp. The wrist held no pulse save for one single weak beat that was almost certainly a mistake, a blunder by the stupid Cassie Casey she had tried so hard to forget, by the silly stagestruck woman who knew less of medicine than any drugstore clerk.

That stupid Cassie Casey who was in fact herself and no queen at all. She found Dr. Schoonveld and told him his patient was dead, had been dead when she came into the room, although her hands had been clasped by that same dead patient, whose name was Pat Gomez.

CASSIE herself left his infirmary and stood staring up for a long minute at the Navy hopper that cruised grayly against the high blue vault, aerodynamically impossible, bristling with guns and antennae, yet flying as it seemed without effort.

Were they looking for her?

No, King Kanoa had said they were looking for Reis’s gold, but would not find it. After a time she was joined by Hiapo, whom she sent looking for Reis.

After a still longer time, she was joined by the Japanese nurse, who feared she might be ill.

“No, I’m just trying to get over finding Pat Gomez dead. That was a jolt.”

“You know her?” The Japanese nurse smiled politely. “Doctor, he say the king say it was her name.”

“No,” Cassie said. Then, “Yes. Yes I suppose I did know her. I played her for a while.”

“I know you love me,” Cassie told Reis, “and gosh knows I love you. I know you’re busy, too.”

Reis nodded.

“So what I’m asking for is a big gift, but I’m going to ask for it anyway. I want some time alone with you. Now. Two or more hours at least. Three might be better. I’ve got questions, and I think it’s time we really got to know each other. Can I have it, Bill? Please?”

“Yes.” He glanced at his watch. “Starting this minute if you like. I’m flattered. I hope you know that.”

“I don’t believe it, but I sure would like to. I want us to take a walk together. Down there on the beach would be too dangerous, wouldn’t it?”

“The beach here in front of the palace would, yes. Absolutely. What about another beach, would that do if it’s a nice one?”

Cassie nodded. “It might be better.”

“In that case, there’s no problem.” Reis spoke into his watch; half a minute later, a hopper popped into being far above them. As he turned off the cell phone function, he said, “Our beach is watched, I’m sure of it. Not by the Storm King himself but by his worshippers. Luckily for us, there are thousands of islands in this part of the Pacific. They can’t possibly watch them all, so they don’t.”

“WHERE are we?” Cassie asked as the hopper rose and boomed into nothing above them.

Reis smiled. “Let’s not be overly specific. We’re outside the Takanga Group. This could be Tuvalu or the Solomons, or a lot of other places. We’ll be a little bit safer if I don’t say it, perhaps. If you want the name of this particular island, I don’t know it and it may not have one. It’s uninhabited as far as we know.”

“Except for the volcano.”

Reis’s smile widened. “Yes. Except for that. I’m glad you remember.”

“So am I. Did you write that show, Bill?”

“Yes, with a collaborator. I knew what show I wanted and he knew how shows ought to work. I suppose I ought to say I sweated blood over it, but it was fun. I enjoyed it. I didn’t compose the music, you understand. For the most part I sketched out the plot and told my collaborator what ought to happen in various scenes. Are we going to walk along the beach?”

Cassie said, “I hope so. That’s what I wanted.”

“In that case I’ll take off my shoes.” Reis found a shady spot beneath a palm tree and sat.

Nodding, Cassie sat beside him. Her canvas sandals were off in a moment. They kissed, and when both his shoes stood beside hers, they kissed again.

She rose. “Want a hand up?”

“Not particularly.” He grinned. “But I know you want to talk. So do I. What is it you want from life, Cassie?”

“That’s a big one. All right if I think about it?”

Reis nodded.

“What is it you want, Bill? I know you must have thought about the answer before you asked me.”

“You’re right. I have.” He stood. “Everybody dies, Cassie.”

“Sure.”

“I wish it weren’t like that. But even if we didn’t age, we’d die anyway, sooner or later. Accident, disease, suicide, war, murder... Something would get us.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We’d have two hundred and fifty years, perhaps. Some would. Three hundred at most.” Reis drew a deep breath. “So here’s what I want. I want to be a very powerful man, and I want to use that power for good. A lot of people think I’m a bad man.”

Cassie nodded, remembering. “Dr. Chase certainly seemed to think so.”

“The rich are his clients. Rich people, governments — they’re all rich, never let anybody tell you different — and rich corporations. Nobody else can afford his fees. He takes the money and does what they want. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it isn’t. He’s a wizard. I’ll give him that. I’ve got him on my team now, and I’m damned glad to have him.”

“Do you trust him?”

Reis shook his head. “I trust very, very few people, and Gideon Chase isn’t one of them. You can never trust a wizard, my darling. They know too much and they’re too complicated.”

“I trusted him.” She began to walk.

He followed her, keeping his steps small and slow to match her speed. “You’re a trusting woman, and I love you for it. That doesn’t mean I’d put you in an executive position. I wouldn’t. It’s not what you’re cut out for.”