by Gene Wolfe
A door closed, a metallic bang that made her think of Ebony and jail.
There had been no sound of an engine starting, but a black sedan, oddly angled and a good deal larger than the coupe in which she sat, rolled through a ruined doorway. When Gideon opened its door, no light kindled inside.
He motioned to her. She left the coupe and took his arm as he guided her toward the passenger side of the black sedan. “You know,” she whispered, “I’d almost forgotten this.”
“Let’s hope others have forgotten it as well.”
“Aren’t we going to dinner? You said we were.”
“We are,” he told her, “at the Silent Woman.”
Then she was in the black car, snuggling into downy-soft upholstery she found she remembered very well. The black car itself was speeding — and jolting — along the ruined highway.
Until it was not. There were stars (and nothing but stars) beyond its windows. They crept along the glass as though the car were rolling in the sky. “Am I supposed to be afraid?” she asked.
“Certainly not. Are you?”
“Nope. This car of yours is a hopper, too.”
“Certainly it is. I’m surprised you didn’t guess it earlier.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“You can’t, legally.”
“Since it is, couldn’t we have hopped to that mountain in Canada?”
“We could have, and I intended to. But I wanted to get out of the city — away from all the settled areas — before I went up.”
“You said you were watched, or you thought you were.”
Gideon nodded.
“You were. It was the man you sent to get me at the ice cream store.”
“You’re right. May I ask how you found out?”
“I didn’t, really. But he’s Detective Lieutenant Something — ”
“Aaberg.”
“And the mayor called him to tell him to be nice to me. After he let me go, I started wondering why the mayor cared, and it had to be because Wally had phoned him. So if he could do that — ”
The stars jumped. And steadied.
“He said he had been watching my building to protect me. That didn’t make a lot of sense. What did was that he wanted to catch you.”
“You’re correct. As I was saying, I had to get away from the city where someone might have seen us. Then you woke, so I had to drive. I didn’t know how far I could trust you back then.”
“You trust me more now?”
“I have to. I love you too much not to.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. You already trust me much more than you have reason to. The least I can do is to trust you every bit as much.”
“What if you’re wrong? Or I am?”
“You know the answer. You’re not wrong about me, though. Am I wrong about you?”
For a minute or more, Cassie stared out at the stars, and at treetops growing at a pace that slackened moment by moment as the onboard computer slowed the descent of the black hopper. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I hope not.”
“I hope not, too.” Gideon cleared his throat. “This place we’re going to is called the Silent Woman. Perhaps I said that.”
“I think so.”
“It doesn’t mean you’ve got to keep quiet, but be careful what you say. There are people there, and things there, too, who have sharp ears. The lowest whisper will be overheard by someone.”
“I’ll watch it. You laughed when I said the FBI might be bugging my dressing room. Why was that?”
“Because I’ve been cooperating with them — up to a point. If they were, I would surely have been told about it.”
“You’re on their side?”
The black sedan was settling through the trees.
“To a degree, yes.”
“You’re working for Wally, too?”
“So are you.” The computer eased them to the ground with the smallest possible bump. “I don’t think you’ll need your coat. Want to leave it in here?”
“If you say so.”
She had unbuttoned her coat already, and she slipped out of it when he opened the door for her. “Where are we?”
“Here.” He pointed. “See those colored lights? That’s the Silent Woman.”
“I get eighty thousand if we catch Wally and turn him over to the FBI. Is that right?”
“It is.” Gideon’s voice was just above a whisper.
“Please don’t be mad, Dr. Chase. But I’m not sure I want to do it.”
“Nor am I.”
“Really?” Cassie felt that a weight had been lifted from her heart.
“Yes. First because I’m working for him. I’m doing it now, I’m very well paid, and I may be working for him for some time to come. Ethically, I can’t possibly turn him in while I continue to accept his money.”
“I can see that. You’re a good, good man. I always knew it.”
“And second — you might as well hear this, too — because my negotiations with the government haven’t been going as well as I would like. The money’s fine, and so are the honors. There are strings on them both, however. Onerous restrictions on my future operations.”
“I see...”
“There are other complications, too. But here we are.”
The ancient inn looked older than Carnac, a structure of odd angles, many dormers, and inscrutable projections, small-windowed and secretive, its stone walls furred with black moss. Tables and chairs had been set outside beneath towering trees whose lower limbs bore strangely shaped lanterns, grass-green and sea-blue.
The ears of the bowing waiter summoned by a snap of Gideon’s fingers were hairy and sharp. “Madame. Monsieur. Will there be more?”
Gideon shook his head, and the waiter led them to a table for two.
The bill of fare was in a language Cassie failed to recognize, one that might possibly have been Russian or Greek, although she had the feeling that it was neither. She studied hers for a second or more before she put it down. “I can’t read this.”
“Don’t worry,” Gideon murmured. “I’ll suggest a few dishes.”
“He spoke English to us. Was it because he recognized you?”
“Possibly. Or because you look Irish. Or for some third reason. Do you think you might like a nice duck with truffles?”
Memories of Rusterman’s came flooding back. “You know what we ate. Wally and me.”
Gideon glanced up. “Actually, I didn’t. I simply thought you might like duck.”
She shook her head.
“The lentil soup is superb, believe me.”
“Tell me about your leg, Gid.”
He grinned. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Gid since I washed.”
“Hurray. You were in a lot of pain right after it happened, but you said it would be all right.”
“I thought that it would be. The antibiotic I’d been given didn’t work, however, and it became infected. I had a violent reaction to the next one — you’ll pardon me, I’m sure, if I don’t tell you who was treating me — and nearly died. After that I told them I wasn’t going to take any more. Other methods didn’t work either, and in a few days they had to amputate my leg below the knee.”
“You’re still wearing the wooden one you wore onstage.”
“Correct. I had reasons for remaining Gil Corby when I went to your dressing room, the first and foremost being that Gideon Chase had no business being backstage. Is that enough?”
“The man who hurt your leg... ?”
“Who shot me. There’s no reason you shouldn’t say it. I’d be happy to give you his name if I knew it. I don’t.”
“You talk about a man named John. He’s phoned you a couple of times, or I think that’s what you’ve said. Could he have been the man who shot you? Or one of his friends?”
Gideon shook his head. “I saw the man who shot me. He didn’t resemble John. It wasn’t his face or his body type. As for it being a friend o
f his, I doubt it very much. His friends are good shots, and this man wasn’t.”
“I see.” Cassie nodded.
“Organizations act according to patterns, patterns from which they deviate only rarely. John and his friends are careful men, violent only when they have no choice. That doesn’t sound like the man who shot me, or the people who sent him to do it.”
Cassie nodded again.
“In addition to what I just said, John has compelling reasons to want me alive and active. You may give that more weight than I do, however. I’ve been involved with our government more than once, and know how often it acts contrary to its own best interests.”
“What about the man who bought me truffles?”
“That’s much more plausible, I admit.” Gideon picked up the menu. “Do you like Hopfenkäse?”
“I have no idea. What about our friend? The one I just asked about?”
“It’s a cheese. People usually eat it with beer, which I rarely drink. I just thought you might like it.”
Cassie shook her head.
“Our friend is a lot more plausible, I admit, and for twenty-four hours or more I felt reasonably certain he had done it. Then I found out that he was looking for me in the hope of protecting me and getting me better medical assistance.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. It showed that he was still anxious to enlist me, if he could — that we were just haggling about price, in other words. If I were indebted to him, I might feel obligated to do as he asked. A tall man in a gray suit visited me, one who had visited you earlier. He told you he was from the FBI and tried to get you to call him if you saw me or heard from me. Remember that?”
Cassie nodded. “Did India tell you?”
“No. He did. Now tell me about the wolf.”
“You must have heard about that from Ebony.”
Gideon nodded. “What she told me was sketchy and subjective. I’d like to hear it from you. Everything.”
“All right. I’m sure I’ll be subjective, too, but I can’t help it. My second husband showed up. He said he was working for somebody named Arthur Thomas Franklin. Do you know who that is?”
Gideon said, “Go on.”
“He gave me a picture of us dancing in the show, you and me. I told Ebony it’d been faked — Ebony was with me. That’s what I said, but I didn’t believe it.”
“The names, I suppose.”
“Yes. You two were about the same size, and certain things Gil Corby said made me think of you. I decided to buy a camera and try it myself. I was going to take a few shots of you there in my dressing room. Only I couldn’t figure the camera out.”
The waiter returned, and Gideon ordered lièvre à l’Allemande for them both. “Wine?” he asked Cassie.
She nodded. “I could use a drink. A nap, too.”
“Champagne, in that case.” When the waiter had gone, he added, “Three glasses should do it, and you can sleep on the way home.”
“Three glasses and you’ll have to carry me back to the car.”
“With food? Nonsense. Get to the wolf.”
“I’d rather get to the waiter. He’s not — well, he’s not like us.”
Gideon nodded.
“So what is he? Somebody from Woldercan?”
“I doubt it. Their ears aren’t pointed, as far as I know. Or hairy, for that matter.”
“A werewolf?”
“Certainly not. Werewolves are human.”
Cassie sighed, spotted the waiter returning with their champagne, and sighed again. The waiter opened it. Gideon sampled and approved it, and the waiter poured for them. Gideon sipped and said, “The wolf now, please.”
“Do you ever feel like you’re in the wrong show?”
He sipped from his glass again, and set it down. “Just what do you mean by that?”
“It’s a nightmare I’ve had. Maybe a nightmare I’m having. I’m onstage, I’ve got no idea what the play’s about, and the audience is always behind me. I’m in a restaurant that can’t possibly be in one of those guides you can read online, the waiter’s not — shouldn’t this place serve dragon’s eggs? Stuff like that?”
“Certainly not. They’re poisonous.”
“You’ve tried them?”
Gideon looked disgusted. “It’s common knowledge, that’s all. If you don’t believe it, you eat them.”
“All right. Pink clouds with spun sugar. Delicious!”
“Not to me. Too sweet. Let’s talk about the wolf.”
“Right. We were having breakfast. That’s Ebony, my second husband Scott, and me. Scott was there because he had promised to tell me who killed Norma. It was Arthur Whatshisname. That’s what he said.”
“Truthfully, I’m sure.”
“He pulled out our picture, and all of a sudden Wally was at our table, too. Can I say Wally?”
“You just did.”
“Then the wolf came in with a man holding a leash and pretending it was a dog. It was bigger than any dog I’ve ever seen. It looked like it could kill a bull moose all by itself, no problem. The wolf looked Scott in the eye, and he looked at it. When it went out he followed it. I don’t know why, and he didn’t say a word.”
“But Wally did, didn’t he? Think carefully, please, because that’s my key question.”
“I don’t think — wait! Yes, he did. He said not to worry, we were safe. Then, after the wolf was gone and Scott, too, he said his sandwich needed Russian dressing.”
“Fine. You’ve met the werewolf. Met him in his human form, I mean. He works for Wally, and I’d guess that Wally told him what to do before he became visible at your table. The man in the gray suit.”
Cassie sipped her wine, paused to think, and sipped again. “He works for Wally?”
“Correct. He’s an ex-cop and a private investigator, and our friend Wally owns the agency that employs him. Not as our friend. Another name. He was trying to find me, because our friend wanted to help me, as I’ve told you.”
“But he’s a werewolf.”
“If you mean our friend, no, he isn’t. If you mean the man in the gray suit — ”
“Yes. Him.”
“Correct. He is.”
“He told you?”
“He did not.” Gideon paused. “I hadn’t intended to get into this, but I will. There are several signs; when an individual exhibits two or more, it’s safe to assume lycanthropy. Hair on the palms of the hands is the classic indication, mentioned as far back as the Middle Ages. One almost never sees that today, because they shave it off. Luckily there are a number of others. The ring finger is often the longest on the hand. They’re sensitive to odors and insensitive to colors. There’s often a swift loping walk, even in women. It’s hard to describe, but once you see it you’ll remember it. They tend to dress in wolf shades: gray, black, and white. There are others, but those are the most common.”
“I changed.” She waited for him to speak; when he did not, she said, “Or you changed me.”
“You changed. I assisted you, and called upon others who assisted you, too. Going up is a lot harder than going down. I think I told you that once.”
“Yes, you did. I’m not a good student, Dr. Chase, but some things stick with me.”
“You learn your lines, and learn them very quickly from what I’ve heard.”
She ignored it. “How can you tell if someone is like me?”
“Again there are several signs, some of them seldom seen and rather obscure. Often, one sees spontaneous flashes of the higher form; and that was what I saw in your case. I attend the theater as much as I can when I’m not on campus, you understand. Call it a guilty pleasure.”
“You’d seen me onstage?”
Gideon nodded. “I had, in several productions. Nine-tenths of the time you seemed a very ordinary thirtyish actress, but there were flashes of something more — of an indescribable something that electrified me and, I believe, the whole audience. I marked you then.”
“But you weren’t
going to help me?”
“On the contrary, I was going to help you as soon as I found reason to. That’s our food coming, I believe, so let me say before it arrives that another sign is desire. One sees that in werewolves, too. They want the wild and a liberation from human morality. People like you want to be the higher thing they cannot quite become. I tested you on that score, and you said that you’d walk barefoot all day and all night if it would make you a star. Remember?”
Slowly, Cassie nodded. “Two more questions?”
“Yes, but only two. What are they?”
“Why was the wolf so big? And — ”
The waiter was setting down his tray on an empty table.
“Why did Scott follow him like that? The wolf never said a word to him. Can they talk?”
“Sometimes,” Gideon told her, “and that’s three questions. The wolf was so big — thank you.”
Cassie had received the first covered dish. When she removed the cover the aroma made her mouth water in actual fact.
“The wolf was as big as he was,” Gideon said, “because Al is. He’s not fat, but he must stand at least six foot two. When his cells have repositioned, they make a large wolf. I told you about that, too, once.”
Cassie nodded, her mouth full.
“You can charm people. You know you can. You charmed our friend, for example. The wolf charmed Scott. That’s one way to put it.”
Cassie chewed and swallowed with great pleasure. “I try to charm you, too, but it doesn’t work. Is it because you saw me before I changed?”
“Quite the contrary. You do charm me. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have written that twenty-thousand-dollar check; and you charm me all the more because I saw you before you changed.”
She grinned. “I’ve been waiting to say this, Gid. Get back to the wolf.”
“Indeed. People attacked by tigers often do nothing to defend themselves. They simply stand there until the tiger kills them.” Gideon took a bite of sour cabbage. “The tiger has told them they are tiger food, you see.”
A REMOTE PACIFIC ISLAND...
“I saw their sign as we left,” Cassie said as the black hopper that doubled as a sedan lifted off. “It’s a woman with no head, and it ought to scare me. Why doesn’t it?” She was full of roast hare and spätzle, champagne and Black Forest cake, and felt relaxed, sleepy, and perhaps a little romantic.
