F. Paul Wilson - Reprisal

Something in his voice made Lisl pause. "You're not some sort of Scrooge, are you?"

As they pulled to a stop at a light on Conway Street, Rafe turned toward her.

"You don't really believe all that brotherhood of man stuff, do you?"

"Of course. We're all on this planet together. Brotherhood is the only way we'll all come out of it in one piece."

Rafe shook his head and stared ahead.

"Man, oh, man, did they ever do a brainwashing number on you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Brotherhood. It's a myth. A lie. 'No man is an island'—the Big Lie."

Lisl had a 'sinking feeling.

"You don't really mean that," she said, but deep within she sensed that he did.

"Look around you, Lisl. Do you see any real brotherhood? I see only islands."

The Maserati was moving again. Lisl watched the people on the crowded sidewalks as they flowed by. She liked what she saw.

"I see people walking and talking together, smiling, laughing, hunting for gifts for their friends and loved ones. Christmastime draws people together. That's what it's all about."

"What about the children starving in Africa?"

"Oh, come on now!" Lisl said with a laugh. For a moment he reminded her of Will. "You're not going to drag out that hoary old cliche, are you? My mother used to pull that on me to make me finish my brussels sprouts."

Rafe didn't return her smile.

"I'm not your mother, Lisl, and I'm not giving you a line to make you finish your greens. I'm talking about a real country. I'm talking about real people, really dying."

Lisl felt her own smile fade. "Come on, Rafe…"

He pulled into a municipal lot just as someone was backing out of a space.

"He must have known I was coming," Rafe said. He pulled into the slot and turned to Lisl again. "What about the continuing genocide in Laos? What about the daily brutalization of the female half of the populace in any fundamentalist Moslem country?"

"Rafe, you're talking about the other side of the world".

"I didn't think brotherhood was limited by distance."

"It's not. But you simply don't dwell on those things day in and day out. They're so far away. And the numbers are so staggering they don't seem real. Like it's not happening to real people."

"Exactly. You've never seen them, never visited their lands, and what happens to them does not affect your life." He gently poked her shoulder with his index finger. "That puts you on an island, Lisl. A big island, maybe, but still an island."

"I don't accept that. I feel for them."

"Only when someone reminds you—and even then only briefly." He gripped her hand. "I'm not putting you down, Lisl. I'm the same way. And we're no different from anyone else. We all need a certain amount of insulation from what our fellow humans do to each other."

Lisl stared out the window. He was right, dammit.

"Let's go shopping," she said.

They locked up the car and headed for the new Nordstrom's. Rafe put his arm around her shoulder.

"Okay now," he said. "Let's move closer to home. Look around you at these houses, these apartment buildings. They look peaceful, but we know from statistics that there's a certain amount of violence and brutality going on behind those walls. Wives being beaten, children being sodomized."

"But I can't feel anything for statistics."

"What about that three-month-old in the paper this morning?

Scalded to death by his mother yesterday. I believe his name was Freddy Clayton. He's more than a statistic. Think how that child felt as the person he depended on for everything forced him down into that steaming water and held him there. Think of his agony as—"

"Enough, Rafe! Please! I can't! I think I'd go mad if I even tried."

His smile was slow. "The water around your little island just got wider and deeper."

Lisl was suddenly depressed.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm only trying to open your eyes to the truth. There's nothing wrong with being an island. Especially if you're a Prime. We Primes can be self-sufficient on our islands, but the rest of them can't be. Thus the 'No man is an island' lie. We are the wellspring of human progress. They need us to get by. What's wrong is to allow yourself to be deceived into believing you need them ."

"But I like the idea of brotherhood. There's no deception in that."

"Of course there is. You've been culturally conditioned to believe in it. The leeches, the consumers, they want everyone—especially us Primes—to swallow the brotherhood of man myth. It makes it so much easier for them to suck off our juices. Why should they bother stealing from us if we're gullible enough to let them convince us to give of ourselves willingly in the name of brotherhood?"

Lisl stared at Rafe. "Are you listening to yourself? Do you realize how you sound?"

He signed and lowered his eyes to the sidewalk as they approached Nordstrom's.

"I can imagine: paranoid. But Lisl, I'm not crazy. And I'm not saying we're the victims of an overt plot. It's not that simple. I think it's more of a subconscious thing that has developed down the centuries. It's persistent and pervasive for a very simple reason: It works. It keeps us producing so they can milk us."

"There you go again."

He held up his hands. "Okay. Maybe I'm crazy. But then again, maybe I'm not. One thing I'm sure of is that you and I aren't like them. I want my island to fuse with your island. I want an unbreakable bond between us. Look at these people, Lisl. Your so-called brothers. Is there one of them you can count on? Really count on? No. But you can count on me. No matter what, no matter where, no matter when, you can count on me."

Lisl looked at Rafe and saw the intensity in his eyes. She believed him. And that lifted her spirits. Suddenly she felt like shopping again.

They wandered the crowded aisles, finally stopping at the jewelry counter. The three saleswomen were busy with other customers. Lisl squinted at a wide twenty-inch, eighteen-karat gold necklace out of reach behind the counter. The herringbone pattern appealed to her.

"You like that?" Rafe said.

"It's beautiful."

He reached one of his long arms across and plucked it off its peg. He undid the clasp.

"Here. Try it on."

He reclasped it around her neck, then guided her to the mirror. The gold gleamed as it hung between her breasts, all but obscuring the slim chain and the cowrie.

"I love it."

"Shiny metal makes you happy, does it? Well then, let's get you some more."

He reached again and picked out a pair of gold earrings with onyx centers. Lisl pulled off the little studs she had worn today and allowed him to fasten the new ones onto her earlobes.

"Perfect," he said. "And now the final touch."

A moment later he was slipping an eighteen-karat gold filigree bracelet over her right wrist.

"There!" he said. "The picture is complete." He gripped her elbow and gently propelled her away from the jewelry department. "Let's go."

"Where are we—?"

"Out."

"But we haven't paid."

"We don't have to. We're Primes."

"Oh, God, Rafe!"

Lisl tried to turn back toward the counter but Rafe had a firm grip on her arm.

"Trust me on this, Lisl," he said in her ear. "Follow my lead. I'm the only one you can really trust."

She held her breath and let him guide her toward the exit, sure that at any minute the store detectives would leap upon them and escort them to a back office where they'd be grilled and then arrested. But no one stopped them.

Until the exit. A uniformed doorman stepped in front of them at the glass door that led to the street; his gloved hand gripped the handle.

"Find everything you need?" he said with a smile.

Lisl felt her knees begin to wobble. Shoplifting ! And with what this jewelry was worth, she'd be charged with grand larceny instead of petty theft. She saw her reputation, her whole academic career heading for the sewer.