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“We’ve talked a couple of times,” Howie said “Off and on.”

“Yes. I have seen this.” Wang looked about sixty; his head was perfectly bald. The skin stretched tight across his face was the color and texture of old paper.

“Chan is a very able young man,” Wang said. “Most intelligent and alert. We are expecting much of his abilities.”

I heard some different, Howie thought. “He’s a real fine person, all right,” he said aloud. “Interesting feller to talk to. I didn’t know nothing about China. Sounds like a real nice place.”

Wang looked up from his plate. “Indeed it is. And what did young Chan tell you about China?”

Howie took a bite of melon while he tried to think what he ought to say. What Chan might have said that he shouldn’t.

“Mostly, he talked about the country. Rivers and lakes and such. Trees and birds. Sounded right pretty.”

“Yes, I see. Wang was clearly disappointed. “China is a beautiful place. And a most progressive nation as well. Many things have been accomplished there that have not yet appeared in the West. I imagine Chan told you of such things.

“No, not a thing,” Howie said. “I’d sure like to hear about ’em, though.

“Yes. Perhaps we will talk sometime.” Wang nodded curtly, and showed a sudden interest in his food.

By God, Chan was right, Howie decided. For whatever reason, his friends were trying to bring him down.


Cory …
” Jones poked Howie sharply in the ribs.

“Uh, what?” Howie turned. Jones was staring at him, plainly irritated.

“Lawrence is
speaking
to you, Cory.”

“Oh.” Howie looked at Lawrence. “I’m real sorry, sir.”

Lawrence didn’t smile. “I understand you were in the war.”

“Yes, sir. I was.”

“You lost an eye. How did this occur?”

Howie tried to remember the story he’d told before. “A cannon exploded. A piece of hot metal caught me right in the eye. The other fellers there was killed outright. Guess I was lucky.”

Lawrence turned to Brother Michael. “I think this un-fortunate incident must be dealt with at once. I see no other alternative.”

“Yes, I am afraid this is so, Michael said.” I shall see to it, Lawrence.”

“As soon as possible, Michael. No delays.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I regret this, Michael. It should never have happened.” Lawrence turned to Jones. “Nothing can be accomplished by waiting. Is this your conclusion as well?”

“It is, Lawrence,” Jones said.

“The Lord has brought this to be,” Lawrence said. His dark eyes closed for a moment. “We shall not oppose His will.”

Howie felt cold all over. He stared at Lawrence, wondering which “unfortunate matter” they were discussing, and how they’d found him out. It dawned on him then that no one was even looking his way, that whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him. Lawrence had simply tired of the conversation and gone on to something else. Like he wasn’t even there.

Well by damn, Howie thought, just because you talk to God all the time don’t mean you got to be impolite!

Howie looked around the table. Lawrence, Jones, and Michael were still deeply engrossed in weighty conversation. Maybe he’d tell Brother James what he’d heard, or maybe not. He might just make something up. Lorene and Marie had their heads close together, whispering over something and grinning now and then. Harmon was stuffing his face. Mr. Wang and Mr. Chen were exchanging rapid gibberish across the table.

Howie wondered about the Chinese, and what they were doing at High Sequoia. Chan said they were a trade delegation. But what were they trading
here?
He hadn’t asked Chan when he first brought it up, and there wasn’t any chance to later. Not after his new friend started acting real funny.

And that was downright peculiar, too. Chan had flat gone to pieces when he, Howie, had just mentioned High Sequoia. And especially
old
High Sequoia, the way it used to be. That didn’t make a bit of sense, yet Chan was flat scared out of his wits. What was he scared
of?
Howie wondered. Brother James was likely the answer, he decided. That cold-eyed son of a bitch had Chan completely cowed, and Howie couldn’t much blame him. You let a man like that get a start …

Howie looked up, and caught Lorene watching him from across the table.

“It has been some time since we spoke, Master Cory,” Lorene said. “I trust you find High Sequoia to your liking.”

Howie tried not to grin. “Never had a better time in my life. It’s about the prettiest place I ever saw. Still can’t get over them trees.”

“Yes, they … are quite magnificent.” Lorene squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She knew he was talking about the two of them, no matter what he said.

“I got a real pretty view outside my window,” Howie said. “I sit there and look out at night.”

“Is that so?”

“You can hear all kinds of things. Birds, leaves rattling in the trees.” Howie was suddenly aware that several others at the table, including Harmon, had started listening to the conversation. He decided he’d maybe gone far enough and should shut up, or say something normal to Lorene.

“I ain’t had a chance to say how sorry I am about Sister Camille,” Howie said. “I should’ve said some-thing before. That was a real awful thing, and I—”

Lorene’s expression stopped him cold. Her eyes went wide, and all the color drained from her face. What the hell did I do now? Howie wondered.

He didn’t have to look. He could feel Lawrence’s eyes suddenly upon him.

“You are clearly not aware of our ways,” Lawrence said bluntly hold you blameless for what you say. But understand, young man, that we do
not
mourn the passing of a Brother or a Sister. We rejoice that the Lord has chosen one of our own. Death is the beginning of our finest work for God. Pray for the day when you can begin this task yourself. Do not feel sorrow for Sister Camille.”

Howie wished he could sink beneath the floor. “I hadn’t thought it out the way you explain it,” he said. “That—makes sense to me.” He remembered, too late, that Lawrence hadn’t
asked
him to speak.

Lawrence didn’t seem to care. “There is much you can learn at High Sequoia,” he said. “A single day beneath God’s Holy Trees will strengthen your soul beyond measure. Prepare yourself for the Joy and Light to come.

Then, just as he’d done before, Lawrence turned abruptly back to Michael and Jones, leaving Howie hanging on a limb.

Howie downed a whole glass of wine. It tasted awful, and his throat still felt dry as sand. He couldn’t stand to look at Lorene, or anyone else. Damned if this place wasn’t getting more peculiar by the minute. People tryin’ to hurry up and die and grab hold of more joy and light— when they hadn’t used up what they had right here.

T
his time he was listening for the sound; he sat up quickly and walked naked across the room. The white gown appeared like a ghost in the dark, the slender figure and raven hair.

Howie blinked. Lorene didn’t
have
dark hair, and her face wasn’t like that at all.

“Well, you going to help me in or not?” Sister Marie leaned in the window, watching curiously as Howie searched for something to cover himself.

Marie sighed. “Listen, I can go away if you like. I sure don’t have to stay.”

“No, I mean—here, lean in a little more.” Howie tried not to think real hard. He grasped Marie around her waist, noting at once that she was somewhat lighter than Lorene, that everything about her was soft and hard at once.

Marie slid her hands around his neck as he lifted her into the room; once inside, she continued to hold on, standing very close to Howie, studying him in the dark.

“Lorene couldn’t come. Brother Jones had some things for her to do.”

“She—I mean, she knows about you bein’ here?”

“Now who you think sent me here, Cory? Of course she knows I’m here.”

“And she doesn’t mind?”

“Good heavens, why should she?

Howie was both excited and alarmed by this slender girl who pressed herself boldly against him. Excited, because she was there. Alarmed, and a little disturbed, because Lorene apparently didn’t care. She couldn’t make it, so she’d simply sent Marie in her place. Like that was the polite thing to do.

“You know what?” Marie said. “I got an idea you think too much. You got that look. I’ve seen it once or twice.”

Howie could smell her skin. Her lips were no more than an inch away. “I just—wouldn’t want to do some sin, or anything like that,” he told the girl. “I know how you folks feel. Now, if it’s all right with you, and ’course you’re already here …”

Marie laughed in her throat and kissed him hard. Howie didn’t know what to say and didn’t care. Still, in some small corner of his mind, a very small corner not concerned with Marie, and what she was doing with her body and her hands, Howie told himself he had to do what he’d come to do, and get
out
of High Sequoia. Sin and religion, and folks looking forward to being dead— it was getting too hard to understand. There was too damn much going on, and the rules kept changing all the time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

H
owie was awake when she leaned across and kissed him; her hair brushed his face and he could smell the sweet scent of her skin. He watched her as she slipped out of bed, careful to keep his breathing at the slow, even pace of sleep. In the near darkness of the room, she drew the white gown over her head, making no sound at all. For a moment, she stood by the window, listening to the night, then she quietly slipped over the sill.

Howie was on his feet at once, thrusting his legs into his pants and grabbing up his shirt. There was no time for boots—every second he wasted gave Marie a chance to get farther ahead, to vanish into the dark. Climbing through the window, he moved quietly along the side of the building. He guessed it was close to one in the morning. There was a moon up there somewhere, but very little light made its way through the trees. Darkness was a blessing and a curse. If he lost her, he’d simply have to—

Howie stopped. There, a patch of white against the night. His heart hammered against his chest. Marie moved swiftly along the vine covered fence that surrounded the visitors’ quarters. As Howie had expected, she wasn’t going through the gate; she was headed the other way, toward the eastern side of the fence.

Howie watched. A moment later, Marie vanished. He smiled to himself and let a silent breath escape his lips. Keeping to the ground, he made his way quietly to the fence.

H
owie suffered a few seconds of panic before he found it. He was sure this was the spot where Marie had disappeared yet the boards of the fence seemed solid as iron. There was nothing loose, no opening at all. Dammit, this had to be the place, he told himself. The girl wasn’t here, and that meant she was on the other side—maybe vanishing again. If he missed her, he’d have to climb the fences and pray the guards couldn’t see any better than he could in the dark.

Suddenly, a board gave slightly under his touch. He squatted down and found a section of the fence had rotted through near its base. Lowering himself to the ground, he forced himself through. It was a tight squeeze at best; he wasn’t even close to being as slender as Lorene or Marie.

Parting the vines on the other side, he caught a quick glimpse of Marie before the night swallowed her up once again. He had seen this section of the compound during the day. It bordered the vistors’ area and was used as an exercise ground by the novices. A guard would be at the gate, twenty yards to his right. Howie couldn’t spot him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Following the shadows of the fence would take too much time. He’d lose Marie for sure. Still, the place was flat and open, and there was little cover at all. To hell with it, Howie decided. He drew in a breath and raced low across the ground.

He knelt in the shadows along the fence. The building was a long wooden structure with an entry at both ends. Inside there would be a narrow hall, and a door to each room. The building was identical to the one where Howie was quartered—except for the presence of an armed Loyalist trooper at the door.

He had fully expected that. Armies posted guards whether they needed to or not. It gave the poor troopers something to do instead of sleep.

There was a guard at the front and the back, but Howie figured he wouldn’t have to deal with more than one. He was sorry about the guard. The man was a soldier, doing what he was told to do. Howie didn’t want to kill him, and maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Searching about in the dark, he found a good-sized rock beneath a thick stand of fern. He waited until the trooper was looking the other way, then went to his belly and started across the dark.

The idea had first come to him talking to Lorene. He’d been astonished that she was able to get to him past the guards and the maze of fences and gates. Lorene had laughed at that, telling him how it wasn’t that hard for a girl who’d grown up in High Sequoia.

Howie had given that a lot of thought—Lorene, and some of the others too, playing here as children, finding secret places, ways to get through fences and go anywhere they liked. It had struck him then that Lorene had grown up here
before
there were Brothers and Sisters at High Sequoia, before Lawrence came. She’d been here when High Sequoia was something else, not anything like it was now. Hell, she had probably been here when Kari was here too, and those were bad times. Kari had gotten away, but the old High Sequoia had left its mark. Something awful had happened to her here, and all the time he’d known her in the war, she had never said what.

Lorene had come through all right, and Kari hadn’t. Why was that? Howie wondered. He had wanted to ask Lorene about the times that had gone before, but he knew that was a poor idea. Most of what they’d shared was in bed; he didn’t know much more about Lorene.

And that was why he’d never seriously considered asking her to show him how to get through High Sequoia in the dark, without using any gates. It was only when he had lain awake next to Marie that the answer struck home. He didn’t
have
to ask. All he had to do was follow the girl when she left. The Sisters’ quarters weren’t that far from the building where Harriver Mason slept. Marie couldn’t lead him all the way, but she could take him close enough. He’d take his chances with the last few fences himself.

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