Shadows in the House With Twelve Rooms

by J. Price Higgins

  "I don't know, Bianca. Maybe. The two you have can shake the walls. If there were three—" The young man's voice trailed to silence.

  "If the sandmen managed to find themselves free, what do you think you could do?"

  "Whatever I had to. There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep her safe and there is no one I would allow to stop me."

  "Hmmm. Well, who knows, perhaps someday you can back up those words with action, Dane Wyland," Bianca said. "In the meantime, no marriage."

  She hugged Sefura briefly and limped off to find Munoz. I have other plans for my little sister, Mr. Wyland, she thought, chuckling to herself. There will never be a marriage.

  Never.

  Chapter 62

  Ellery

  The yellow-banded newspaper slapped against the door. Difficult though it was, Ellery managed to refrain from rushing out to gather it up. A break in her morning routine was sure to rouse the curiosity of one of her watchers; rain or shine, she never retrieved the paper before eight o'clock. Alarming as it might be, any news was better than the increasing isolation she found herself experiencing as season rolled into season. Not even the engrossing hours she spent in her private wing could alleviate the building loneliness. She missed her sons, she missed her daughter, and she missed the grandchild she had not seen since the night the child was born. She rarely ventured far from the house anymore, not willing to face the catcalls and the hatred thrown in her direction by those less fortunate than she. She watched each fluorescent number flick across the face of the clock. At last, the display glowed eight o'clock. She casually strolled outside to retrieve the paper. Across the street, the man in the maroon Tagia looked up briefly then focused again on his own paper.

  Back inside, she spread the newspaper on the table and read the headlines that told of Dane's return from Brasilia. Beneath the caption, a fuzzy picture of the engineer, his arm outstretched, his finger pointing up at a magnificent tree. Tiny leaves garnished every branch. The photo blurb said: A visual depiction of global population. An engineering masterpiece, the tree is the focal point of the great reception area for the Tartarus Foundation's new headquarters, located in Brazil.

  Savoring the sharp taste of happiness at Dane's safe return, Ellery refrained from reading the account of his exploits until a fresh cup of coffee and a sweet roll sat beside her elbow. When she had finished the column once, she read it again and again. At last, she settled back into her chair.

  Two years gone. How quickly time had passed, too fast to completely assimilate all that had happened. A population-control program had come down with such vengeance that a steep birth drop occurred within the first twelve months. Despite an all-out effort to subdue its outcry, John's Aristocrat Party had survived. Strong and demanding, their voices roared through every nation with one message; the Pope and his consort had to go. The sounds of government revolts rumbled stronger each day and the thunderheads of war boiled on every horizon.

  Still deep in thought, Ellery leaned forward and casually turned the pages, skimming for news of interest—especially those seemingly unconnected items that kept her finger on the Dakotan pulse. The fourth page jammed her mind into turmoil. She stared at the full-page reward notice, then read it carefully line by line. As she reached the bottom of the page, her stomach heaved and her mouth flooded with saliva. Holding her lips squeezed shut, and swallowing hard, she ran to the bathroom. Moments later, she bathed her pale face with cold water and brushed the sourness from her teeth. Back in her favorite room—her kitchen—she read the notice once more.

  Using the three thousand as a springboard to launch her claims that BH inheritors harbored a transferable disease of pain and disfigurement, Bianca had likened Dakotan descendants to the plague infested rats of history's Dark Years. A cure was now available, the notice read. However, the public’s help was needed to bring those poor unfortunates in for treatment.

  There’s a cure all right, Ellery thought. A half million dollar cure. Dakotans will be hunted with the same ferocious zeal those rats were hunted with. Twenty four of the Dakotans she had contacted, including Katie Hudson and her sisters, were still free, but with the reward notice going out, who knew how long they would remain so. Tears welled into her eyes. "For five years, Vickie's been safe, but no more. No more."

  She grabbed the paper from the table and ripped it into shreds. "Half a million dollars," she shouted to the walls. "Do you hear me? Half a million dollars for each Dakotan turned over to them."

  Her kind had reached the time of extinction.

  The ringing of her private phone yanked Ellery back from the abyss of hating rage. Leaning stiff-armed against the table top, she heaved great gulps of air and tried to force the roaring fire from her mind. Hand shaking, she lifted the receiver.

  "Ellery," she said. Happiness tried to spark as she listened. "No—you can’t come! It would be dangerous for you now. Surveillance has been doubled." She twisted the phone sideways to cough, her head nodding up and down as she listened. "I hear what you are saying and yes, I agree that would be wise, but—" She held the phone away from the nonstop barrage of sound. God. He was so stubborn! Sighing, she brought the phone back to her ear. "What should you be? I don’t know—be a book peddler. That seems to be the latest in money earning ventures nowadays and would not be out of place on the street." She chuckled. "No, I don't have any reading preferences. Whatever you want to stick in the bag is fine with me. All right. Since you insist on being foolish, I'll see you then." Ellery smiled with gladness. Despite the danger, Dane was coming to see her.

  She waited patiently by the door, watching the sidewalk through curtained windows. At last she saw him shuffle awkwardly around the corner as if the scuffed shoes on his feet might be a size or two larger than he should wear. The broad shoulders slumped forward with weary desolation and in his left hand, he gripped a salesman's product case that banged against his leg with each step he took, the weight pulling his body sideways. Using both hands to lift the bag higher, he made his way up the terraced walk next door.

  Her gaze shifted to the air car parked across the street and one door down. The lone occupant thrust his arm through the open window and adjusted the side mirror, his hairless pate glistening in the bright sunlight as he tilted his head outward. That's one, she thought. Somewhere, there's two more. She directed her attention back to Dane and watched him jab a finger against the book he held. The woman in front of him shook her head, turned, and left him standing in the heat. A moment later, he was coming up her own sidewalk.

  The bell chimed.

  She waited until the second ring before opening the door, glancing toward the maroon auto as she did so; the eyes were watching.

  "You are taking an awful chance," she whispered. "The Foundation seems to have dredged up pictures of everyone ever known to have associated with me. They want to know where the Dakotans are hiding and they're positive I'm getting messages through."

  He handed her the book he held in his hands and said, "Let me set this blasted case down before my arm stretches to my knees."

  Stepping aside, her glance flicked to the Tagia. The watcher had once again bent to the newspaper. Dane bumped over the threshold and she closed the door.

  Parking the case beside the couch, the young man turned and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her tight, tighter. At her muffled grunt, he kissed the top of her head and stepped back, a sheepish grin on his face. "Too tight, huh?"

  "A might, but I don’t mind."

  Dropping to the couch, he rested his arms across his knees, inspected blister-red palm pads. "How many keep you covered? There have to be more than the three I saw outside."

  "The woman next door—the one you tried to sell your books to—and three more on the beach side," she said.

  "Devices on the phone?"

  "The telescreen, not my private phone. They don't know about that, thanks to a talented young woman named Leann Carter. Because I worked with classified information, she modified my computer line
as well as my private telephone line while she was setting up my database. An Omega link, she called it. Something to do with the Jerico computer, but I never did understand how it worked. I just know it does."

  "I'd feel better if you were wherever Vickie is," he said. "I think you'd be safer with her than here. Especially the way things are now. The riots up here are much worse than I expected."

  "It's too late for me to leave, Dane. You know that. Nowhere is safe now. Not even where Vickie is. Besides, Bianca and I—" Ellery let the statement drop. "How did you get through the blockade?"

  "I have ways." He grinned.

  Her gaze covered every inch of his face. "I saw the news blurb on your latest accomplishment. Impressive, that tree. It must have been a challenge."

  "Yep. Although, getting the numbers on those leaves—you can't see those in the picture—was darn near as difficult, they're so small. I finally located a micro-engraving specialist who agreed to give it a whack."

  "Why numbers? I would think a population tree would be more informative if it had names."

  "The leaves are too small for anything but the barest identification and, according to Munoz, he has a complete cross-reference listing in his computer. The main purpose for the tree is to show population trends so he can make relocation adjustments if necessary."

  "You look tired."

  "I am. I would have called sooner but things have been pretty hectic since I returned. What with trying to coordinate the details of the move to Brasilia and debrief Munoz at the same time, I haven’t been able to leave the island."

  "It is nearly completed then?"

  He nodded. "More and more boats are moving in around the island, though. Before long, it will be nearly impossible to get off. Since the news broke that the facility is being phased out, the Foundation inventory is about the only thing that isn't challenged by the blockade captains. I think they'd lend a hand if they could."

  Ellery chuckled. "Probably would."

  Dane continued. "Doctor Raborman and Munoz left two nights ago for the City of the Dead. They took two technicians and her assistant, Mace Williams, with them." Arching his back, he removed his jacket and loosened his tie.

  "Inspection trip?" she said.

  "I’m not sure. I don’t think so. In between getting the new facility built and giving Mace Williams a crash course on freezing vaults, I put together six containers like those I built for George. On a personal size scale, though. Mace took them to the Saharan center a couple of months ago, so I suspect Bianca is trying out her latest preservation technique on more unsuspecting volunteers." His voice was bitter.

  "Oh?" Ellery's head tilted slightly. "Something other than freezing?"

  "Uh-huh. Mace says she's developed some kind of dry process, one that doesn’t have to rely on an energy source." Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes.

  Ellery slipped quietly into the kitchen. Taking two glasses from the freezer, she filled them with iced tea and carried them back into the living room. Dane opened his eyes and leaned forward with outstretched arm.

  "What a lifesaver," he said, rubbing the cold glass against his cheek. He took three deep swallows, set the glass down, and patted the case. "I brought you a couple of updated bibles, some commentaries to match, and a few radical philosophy tomes. Just released from Grace publishing. Want to see some of them, read the garbage that's in all of our churches and most of our libraries?"

  "Lay them all out, Dane. On the table and on the floor." Her face was pinched and solemn. Her thumb jerked toward the door. "They barge in without warning. So—"

  "I understand," he said and began to unpack books. "You know" about the reward?" He focused on his hands.

  "Yes." Ellery winced at the sharp stab of pain that streaked across her chest.

  Without looking up, he said, "Your vaccine antidote, is it ready?"

  "In theory. It—"

  "No need to explain. I wouldn't understand what you were saying anyway. Will it work?"

  "I'll never know for sure until it's used. If it doesn't, it will be too late to try again."

  "Bianca brought in two Dakotan women and one man just before I returned. There were no side effects from the inoculation and the man no longer hears the voices." He closed the product case and raised his eyes to hers, an unspoken question on his face.

  "Oh, the vaccine is perfected all right. Otherwise, she would never have played her hand with the reward notice." Glancing toward the curtained window, her body went rigid as a shadow blotted out the bright frame of light. She grabbed up a book and opened it at random.

  The door burst open and three men barged into the room.

  Dane jumped to his feet, his face white. One of the men yanked open the sales case and began searching through the few books at the bottom. Dane lunged for the case and was shoved back—hard.

  "Sit down and shut up. If we don't find what we're looking for, you'll be paid for any damage." The man's ominous gaze promised dire consequences if anything other than books came out of the case. When he was satisfied that nothing lay hidden in the bottom of the case, he flipped it over and ran his fingers around the edges, pulling at the sides.

  Dane lurched forward and Ellery briefly touched his arm. "Don't," she said quietly.

  He slouched down into the couch. "Well, if you're gonna pay for damages," he said. "At least I'll make one sale today." He snickered.

  Systematically, each book was fanned then tossed carelessly aside. The man from the maroon auto cracked the spine of the last volume as he thumbed the pages front to back. Finding nothing, he threw the book to the floor in disgust.

  "C'mon, let's get outta here," he said to his companions. "I told you this guy wasn't nothin' but a book-bender."

  Head lowered, Ellery picked at a brown spot on the back of her hand.

  The man stared down at her. "They should have brought you in for questioning a long time ago. You're too damned old to cause this much trouble." He turned to a stocky man standing beside him. "Let's go." They stormed back out into the heat.

  Quietly, Dane rose, walked to the door and closed it. "Lock your doors, Ellery," he said. "Keep the bastards out."

  "They kick their way in. You forget, I'm a Dakotan and as such, I have no rights. Last year, a new pastor from the church around the corner paid a visit. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and I was a little slow answering. When Raborman's security left, I had a broken door and jamb. The pastor had a broken nose. I don't lock the door anymore if someone is here."

  Dane jerked his thumb toward the door. "What he said, about questioning, why haven't they pulled you in?"

  "Bianca's too smart for that. She came at me through my sons, kept me off balance. It almost worked. Twice, since Matthew's death, I've given way to my fear for Vickie. Once, I drove as far as Utah before I realized I was being tailed. The same man who had walked into a roadside diner two minutes after I did the night before followed me into a jolt station the next afternoon. Same man, different vehicle. If they hadn't been so anxious, I would have led them straight to the Hudson family and Vickie. As it was, I headed North, spent a week sight-seeing, and drove home." She chuckled. "I've often wondered if my tagalong enjoyed the ice caves as much as I did." She sat silent for a moment, then added, "I remember that experience each time I feel the need to make certain Vickie's shielded. They still leave me unprotected for a few hours each night, but now I know why. They're out there, watching the through streets, waiting for me to bolt."

  Dane shook his head. "Hellish way to live, Ellery. My God, what else does she want from you? She's taken your freedom, killed your sons, and—"

  "She wants Vickie, and she wants Dani. Bianca Raborman would do anything to get her hands on them."

  "She has downed many Dakotans, Ellery. The last count I heard was seventy-two. You would think that would be enough to satisfy her."

  "It isn't the Dakotans she wants. It's me and what I represent. She is obsessed with the fame the Dakotan saga has produced. In
his subtle way, Munoz pointed that out to me a few years back when he said Bianca was only trying to emulate my achievements, but it took a while to sink in. Her need to outshine Victor Dakota and his granddaughter has warped her thinking. In her mind, she'll always be second best as long as Vickie and Dani carry my gene. The ability to destroy the heritage I've passed to them is the ability to destroy me.

  "Munoz has a far more valid reason for wanting the Dakotans found. We are an impediment to his grand scheme for world dominance. He simply wants the memory eliminated. Nothing more. Bianca wants me." She looked up. "Do you know the ironic part of all this?"

  Dane shook his head.

  "She is the master geneticist of this century—of any century for that matter."

  "Ellery!"

  "It's true, Dane. I knew it the first day I met her. She didn't know it then, she doesn't know it now, and that's the problem."

  "Crazy," he said.

  "Yes, it is," Ellery answered solemnly. "Bianca wasted her superlative talent fighting me because I was never there to fight. Do you understand?"

  "I'm trying."

  "I've chattered enough. Tell me about the sandman. The change should have gone full-cycle by now."

  "More than full cycle. That short tail he developed from the nub is now a long tail, a long, powerful tail. He moves through that sand like an eel through water. The scales have disappeared and left him with a smooth, sleek surface. That jaw-edge I told you about? It's extended almost two feet. He's fast, too. He flat out burrows. If you blink, you've missed him. Bianca tried to mate him with a female ape changeling, but he wasn't having any part of that." He chuckled. "Not that I blame him. She was a real Neanderthal."

  Neanderthal. Ellery grinned at the image that flashed into her mind. Obviously, George Kayman still retained his sense of being human.

  "Sefura thought Bianca—"

  "How is Sefura?"

  "Finally said yes to marriage—next year, maybe." He sighed. "She's still hoping Bianca will give her blessing. But wait, Ellery. You didn't let me finish telling you about Sandman."