Clifford Simak - The Werewolf Principle

She shifted a gear lever and the car moved forward. 'I can't stay parked, she said. 'Someone would report me or investigate. So long as I keep moving, I am legal. Is there any place you would like to go?

He shook his head. He hadn't even given thought to where he meant to go.

'Out of Washington, perhaps?

'That is right, he said. Out of Washington was at least a start.

'Can you tell me about it, Andrew?

'Not much, he said. 'If I told you'd probably stop the car and throw me out.

She laughed. 'Don't try to dramatize it, whatever it may be. I'm going to swing round and head west. Is that OK with you?

'It's OK, he said. 'There'll be places I can hide.

'How long — I mean how long do you think you'll have to stay in hiding?

'I wouldn't know, he said.

'You know what I think? I don't believe you can hide at all. Someone will root you out. Your only chance is to keep moving around, not staying long at any place.

'You've thought a lot about it?

'No. It just makes common sense. That robe I brought for you — one of Daddy's wool ones that he is so proud of — is the kind of get-up that roving students wear.

'Roving students?

'Oh, I keep forgetting. You aren't caught up yet with all that's going on. They aren't really students. They're artistic bums. They wander around and some of them do paintings, some of them write books and some of them write poetry — you know, artistic stuff like that. There aren't many of them, but enough so they are recognized for what they are. And no one, of course, pays attention to them. You can pull up the hood of your robe and no one will get a good look at your face. Not that anyone would look.

'And you think I should be a roving student?

She ignored the interruption. 'I found an old knapsack for you. It's the kind of thing they use. Some pads of paper and some pencils and a book or two for you to read. You'd better take a look at them, so you know what they are. Whether you like it or not, you see, you will be a writer. First chance you get you scribble down a page or two. 'So that if anyone should question you, you will look authentic.

He huddled in the seat, soaking up the warmth. She had swung the car around to another street and was heading west. Great towering blocks of apartments rose against the sky.

'Reach into that compartment to your right, she said, 'I suppose that you are hungry. I fixed up some sandwiches and a Thermos full of coffee.

He reached his hand into the pocket and brought out a package, broke it open, took a sandwich.

'I was hungry, he said.

'I thought you'd be, she said.

The car went on. The apartment houses became fewer. Here and there were small villages with their gridworks of single houses.

'I could have wrangled a floater for you, she said. 'Even a car, perhaps. But both of them carry licences and would not be hard to trace. And, furthermore, no one pays much attention to a man trudging along on foot. You'll be safe that way.

'Elaine, he asked, 'why go to so much bother for me? I didn't ask this much.

'I don't know, she said. 'You've had such a damn poor time of it, I guess. Hauled in from space and then turned over to the hospital and pawed and scrutinized. Put out to pasture for a while in that little village, then hauled in again.

'They were only doing what they could for me, of course.

'Yes, I know. But it couldn't have been pleasant. I don't blame you for running out when you had the chance.

They rode along in silence for a time. Blake ate the sandwiches and had some of the coffee.

'This wolf? she asked suddenly. 'What do you know about it? They said there was a wolf.

'So far as I know, there was no wolf, he said. He consoled himself that, technically, he was right. Quester was no wolf.

'The hospital was terribly upset, she said. 'They phoned the senator to come down.

'Me or the wolf? he asked.

'I don't know, she said. 'He hadn't got back when I left. They came to an intersection and she slowed the car, pulled off to the side of the road and stopped.

'This is as far as I can take you, she said. 'I can't be too late getting back.

He opened the door, then hesitated. 'Thanks, he said. 'You've been a lot of help. I hope some day…

'Just a minute there, she said. 'Here's your knapsack. There is some money in it…

'Now wait…

'No, you wait. You will need it. It's not too much, but it will carry you a way. It's out of my allowance. You can pay me back some day.

He reached out and took the knapsack, looped the strap across his shoulder.

His voice was husky when he spoke. 'Elaine — Elaine, I don't know what to say.

In the dimness of the car it seemed that she was closer to him. Her shoulder touched his arm and he could smell the sweetness of her. Scarcely meaning to, he put out an arm and drew her close. He ducked down and kissed her. Her hand came up and cradled his head, her fingers cool and soft.

Then they were apart again and she was looking at him, with a sure and steady gaze.

'I wouldn't have helped you, she said, 'if I hadn't liked you. I think that you're all right. I think you're doing nothing you need to be ashamed of.

He did not reply.

'Now, off with you, she said. 'Out into the night. Later on, when you can, let me hear from you.

The eating place stood in the apex of a Y where the road forked in two directions. In the half-light of not-quite-dawn, the red sign that stood above its roof showed pink.

Blake limped a bit more rapidly. Here was a chance to soak up a little warmth while he rested, an opportunity to stow away some food. The sandwiches Elaine had provided him had carried him through the long night of walking, but now he was hungry again. With the coming of morning he'd have to find a place where he could get some sleep and still be hidden — a haystack, perhaps. He wondered if there still were haystacks, or if even such simple things as haystacks had been swept away since he had known the Earth.

The wind whipped wickedly out of the north and he pulled the cowl of the robe forward around his face. The strap of the knapsack was galling his shoulder and he tried to readjust it, to find an area of skin that had not been chafed, but it seemed that no such area remained.

He finally reached the Diner and crossed the parking lot in front of it, climbed the short flight of stairs to the door. The place was empty. The counter gleamed from polishing, the chrome of the coffee urn shone brightly in the light of the lamps that marched across the ceiling.

'How are you? asked the Diner. The voice was that of a brassy, wise-cracking waitress. 'What will it be this morning?

Blake looked around, seeing no one, then realized the situation. Another robotic installation, like the flying houses.

He went across the floor and sat down on one of the stools.

'Cakes, he said, 'and some bacon. And coffee.

He let the knapsack slip off his shoulder and lowered it to the floor beside the stool.

'Out early, aren't you? asked the Diner. 'Don't tell me you have walked all night.

'Not all night, said Blake. 'Up early, that is all.

'Don't see many of you fellows any more, the Diner said. 'What is your racket, friend?

'I do a little writing, said Blake. 'At least, I try to do it.

'Well, said the Diner, 'at least you get to see some of the country. Me, I'm stuck here all the time. I never get to see anything at all. All I get is a lot of talk. Not, said the Diner, hastily, 'that I dislike hearing talk. At least it's something to occupy my mind.

A spout poured a gob of batter on the griddle, moved along a travelling track to pour a second and a third, then snapped swiftly back to its original position. A metal arm mounted beside the coffee urn unfolded, extended itself and tripped a lever above the griddle. Three slices of bacon slid out and flopped upon the griddle. Deftly the arm descended and separated them, nudging them into a neat row.