A Borrowed Man (31 page)

Lying to your patron's just about impossible, but sometimes you can sort of ignore the question, which is what I did. “Your confession doesn't worry me, and I don't think you ought to let it worry you. Engage a good lawyer and let him worry, although I don't believe you'll find he worries much. What we must do immediately is leave this house and engage him.”

Yet another deep breath. I wondered what was coming next.

“Is it all right if we take Judy?” For just a moment Colette's gleaming white teeth gnawed at her lower lip; I think it was the only time I ever saw that. “Ern, I want to close this place and buy a house on the coast. Can you understand that? A big one, but not more than two stories. And—and from my bedroom windows I'll be able to look out at the ocean.”

Deep breath. This one was mine.

“I know you must think I'm silly. But it's what I'm going to do, and Judy can take care of it for me. She can keep it clean, supervise the kitchen and, oh, a dozen other things.”

I smiled. “I don't think it silly at all. I think it's a wonderful idea. Will you go and find Judy and tell her she's coming with us? Explain to her that you're in charge, and tell her I'm wholeheartedly in favor of it anyway.”

Colette nodded.

“I have to make a screen, and I'll tell the 'bots we're closing up the house.”

My screen was to Georges, of course. I told him not to come back, for him and Mahala to get out of town and stay out of town. That it was dangerous for them here. I said he could take Geraldine if he wanted to, that I had fixed it, but to stay away from the house. I finished by saying that I might be in touch again later.

All right, I knew perfectly well that the reactor was not going to melt down in at least a quarter minimum—it's turned out to be more than two quarters—and the house would be safe until it did. I knew it, but just knowing about that reactor made me nervous.

Also I was afraid van Petten would find some way to get back. Right then he was up there looking at the mine, was the way I figured it; only sooner or later he was bound to realize that the door was locked, that there could be no easy walking back onto Earth. After that, maybe he would think of something I had not figured on; or maybe he had some sort of supercard that would open any door, and that was how he and his boss had gotten in to Colette's the first time I had seen him.

Only I figured I held a couple of aces, too. One was the rifle standing in a corner of my room upstairs. There was plenty of ammo in the mine, sure, but no gun. He had his pocket rocket, but no way would it shoot the same stuff as the rifle.

So my second was the locals and their spinning spears, or whatever you wanted to call them, and those things that had come up out of the sea. They had armor and on the big one that armor would be thick. How much explosive could a little rocket you shot from a pistol carry? About as much as a big firecracker, maybe. Sure, the explosive would be a whole lot more powerful, but still …

Add it all up, and maybe van Petten would get out before the reactor went
boom,
only maybe not. I was betting on not, a bet that left me with just one big problem.

That was Arabella. I knew she was around somewhere, and I had to get her out of there and back to the New Delphi library, or anyway, to some library somewhere. I was still mulling that one over when Colette came back. “Ern, I want to give Judy enough money to let her drive the alterrain to Spice Grove. How much do you think would be enough?”

That one sort of knocked me off my feet. To get a minute's thinking time I said, “Do you have money? I would have thought van Petten had taken it.”

“I've got an account here. I'll screen a draft.” Seeing my blank stare, Colette added, “She can pick up the money at the bank.”

I nodded like I had known. “Yes. Of course. But couldn't she ride with us in your—no, it only seats two. I'd forgotten.”

“I don't suppose you could take one of the others.…” Colette hesitated. “They're all mine now, after all. Dane and I came in mine. Or should I leave it for him? What do you think?”

That gave me a little time. I said, “Absolutely not. It's yours, and you should take it.”

“I suppose he'll take one of the others. One was father's and the other was Cob's, but…”

I said, “They would've wanted you to have them, Colette, and they're yours now anyway.”

“Then could you fly one back to Spice Grove for me? Just tell it what to do, like you'd tell a car. It's not hard at all.”

“Certainly.” I do not believe I have ever said one single thing that scared me more than that did, so I held it to one word, afraid that I was going to choke or start stammering.

“Wonderful! You'll fly yourself back to my apartment? I'm in Taos Towers, I'm sure you remember.”

“I certainly do.” I was getting it together now. “You still have me checked out. Can you give me the combination to one of the other flitters? They may be locked.”

Colette nodded. “They probably are. It's
C-O-N-C
for both. The black one's Cat and the yellow one's Canary. I think maybe you'll need the names.”

Here I tried to look thoughtful, and I think I pulled it off pretty well. “I'd probably better give you a headstart so that you can admit me when I get there.”

Looking happy, Colette nodded again. “I'll tell Judy.”

I hiked out to the hangar while Colette was in the kitchen looking for Judy. My house card opened the doors, just like I had expected. The locks on the flitters had thirty-six buttons in four rows, and
C-O-N-C
unlocked the door of the yellow flier. I climbed in and sat down in the pilot's seat, trying to look as though I knew what I was doing. Nothing happened, so I cleared my throat.

Maybe it worked; right after that the screen lit up, showing a ravishing blonde. I said, “Canary, about how long will it take you to fly to Spice Grove?”

There was a pause. “Weather clear, wind northwest at fifteen kilometers an hour. Estimated time to Spice Grove forty-three minutes at full speed, sir.”

After I had waved good-bye to Colette and Mrs. Peters, I found Arabella in the library, which I would have guessed right away if I had any sense. She was deep in something, so I asked what she thought of Conrad Coldbrook's taste in books.

“Strange.” She shuddered. “I've been reading the poems of somebody named Smith. Not Smithe, like you—there's no
e
.”

“Pity.”

“Yes, isn't it. He's terribly morbid, but good.” Arabella paused, looking at something far, far away. “I doubt that they appreciated him,” she said. Then she recited this:

Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams;

I crown me with the million colored suns

Of secret worlds incredible …

“Do you like that?”

I do not, but those lines are still stuck in my brain; probably you can guess why. Well, anyway, I told her that I did, that we were going to Spice Grove, and that she could bring the book with her if she wanted to. And she surprised all heck out of me by doing it. With women, you never really know.

Have I said already that Canary would seat six? It would.

Arabella surprised me again when we were nearly there. She saw the mountains in the distance and asked if we could fly over for a closer look at them. “I've read about them, but I've never really seen them myself. Not when I was alive the first time and not in this life either. So please, Ern?”

I told Canary to make a pass over the mountains for sightseeing, and it—Canary had a female voice, an octave higher than Geraldine's—said, “Yes, sir. I will amend our flight plan.” After that it slowed way down, our cabin separated, and its wide, golden wing spread between the halves. We sort of drifted among snow-covered mountaintops and along dark, forested valleys for at least half an hour. I was keeping an eye on the instruments, but the screen showed Arabella whenever I asked; the mountains were really beautiful, and she was so darned thrilled she could barely sit still. I worried about wind currents, but I was thrilled, too. I had never seen the mountains up close like that, either.

After that we turned back to Spice Grove and set down on the roof of the Taos Towers. Arabella and I got out and Canary parked herself next to Colette's red flitter as soon as the hangar door opened. They tell me that flitters cost a lot and cost a lot to operate, too; it is probably true, but they sure are smart machines.

I had figured Colette would be mad because I had brought Arabella, but she was okay with it as long as Arabella and I stayed out of her bedroom, slept in my bed, and promised not to stay too long in the bathroom. I figured that with three women in the apartment there was always going to be a long wait, but the one time I went it was not as bad as I expected.

What
was
, was that I was going to have a chance to sleep with Arabella—only I was scared to death I would not be able to take it until we were both tired enough to drop. That was wrong, the way things turned out. Mrs. Peters stayed up talking about old times with Colette for quite a while, and then the two of them got going on the house on the coast that Colette was planning to buy for them—how big would be big enough, how big would be too big, what you could do to keep a house like that safe from storms, and so on and so forth.

So Arabella and I climbed into the sack early. For a minute I was afraid she would not want to do what I wanted, but it was just about the best I have ever had—better than I ever got in my earlier life. When we were finished, I let her use the bathroom to clean up first. She took quite a while, and I got to calculating how long it had been since the last time; it had been 137 years almost to the day. It felt like longer than that.

While I was in the bathroom myself—it did not take me nearly as long—I heard Mrs. Peters say good night and start getting ready for bed.

Back in our bedroom Arabella was asleep, or maybe just pretending for fear I would want to start in again. Only I think she was really sleeping. Because there were no other noises, none at all, I could hear her breathing. It was very regular and very soft. I kissed her cheek, keeping it as gentle as I could, and said good-bye in my heart.

As quietly as I could, I got my clothes back on and went out into the lounge. Colette was all alone out there, not sleeping or reading or even watching roundvid with earphones, just sitting on the couch and staring off into space. It was exactly the setup I had been hoping for.

I got a chair, pulled it up facing her, and started walking up and down the room because I was too nervous to sit. “I'm leaving now,” I told her. “I've got to go.” I got out my card and showed it to her. “Only you are going to have to promise me something before I go. I believe I've been a good friend. Do you agree with that?”

She said, “Yes, Ern. A very good friend.” Her eyes were wondering what was up.

“Then I want you to promise you'll check me out next year, and every year after that. It doesn't have to be for as long as this time. One day ought to be enough, and if you get your card approved for reclones, you won't have to leave a deposit. So promise?”

She nodded, then held up her right hand. “All right, Ern. I will, upon my honor.”

I said, “Fine,” and held up my own hand. “If you keep that promise, I swear I'll never tell the authorities what I'm going to tell you now.”

Let me stop right here to say that I never have and I never will. The reactor has gone up—it was on the news, and Millie Baumgartner told me about it, wanting to know if that was the place I talked about sometimes. I have been waiting for it, and now it has finally happened. Good-bye to the scarecrows, to the emeralds, and to the stars! So I am writing all this down, and I am going to hide it in the stacks. Someday somebody will find it there, but we will be dead and gone by then—or so I think. Nobody reclones a reclone, and if they reclone Colette, so what? It was the original who killed her father.

The armchair that I had moved would give me a good view of Colette's face, and after a minute or two I sat down. “I've never been sure about the best way to tell this, but I'm going to start by saying you warned me early on. You told me women lie a lot before you lied to me. It made your conscience feel a little better, no doubt, and it made me like you. I still do, and of course you've been my patron. That has always made you special, Colette. A very special person to me.”

I waited, but she did not say one word.

“Then you lied to me, and it was a really fancy one. Too fancy, if you ask me. The way you told it your father had died, then your brother, Cob. That turned everything over on its head, and as long as I believed it I'd never even get close to the truth. It was as cunning as two foxes, sure; but it was too cunning, if you know what I mean.”

Colette said, “How much do you know, Ern?”

“I'm telling you. What really happened was that your father disappeared for a long, long time. I don't know how long, but I imagine it was at least two quarters. Perhaps you assumed he was dead.”

She shook her head, the motion so slight I nearly missed it.

“All right, you didn't. But Cob did and that is absolutely certain. Thinking your father was dead, he searched his laboratory, and when he found the safe he brought an expert in to open it for him. Did he really tell you there was nothing in there but the book? I've never been sure of that.”

Colette nodded, her face expressionless but those dream-deep eyes bright with tears.

“That was a lie. He found uncut emeralds in there, too. Going through your father's files, he would certainly have found receipts that told him your father had been selling uncut emeralds, how much he had gotten for them, and who the buyer had been. He took the ones he had found in the safe to one of those jewelers and sold them. That may have been what sealed his fate. In his defense, we need to remember that he was convinced that your father was dead. In addition to the emeralds, he found the book, and here your story was simple truth. He had no idea why it should be in the safe. He hoped you might know, and when you didn't, he left it with you hoping you might discover some clue he'd missed. Then your father returned, probably with more emeralds. Do you know where he got them?”