The Arm of the Starfish (O'Keefe Family)

by L'Engle, Madeleine;

“Sorry.”

  “The Ambassador was all for sending you back to Woods Hole immediately.”

  Without stopping to think Adam responded bitterly, “You mean I should crawl right back into the Hole I crawled out of?”

  Joshua laughed again. “Is it as bad as all that?”

  “It might help if someone would tell me just what is going on.”

  Joshua’s voice was smooth as silk, his face as expressionless. “Didn’t Typhon Cutter?”

  “What about him?”

  Joshua shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. Or is there?” Adam was silent. “The last time I saw him was at a party at the Embassy the evening Poly was kidnapped.”

  “Oh?” Adam asked politely.

  There was a knock. Joshua shot a sharp glance at Adam, then unlocked the door. Arcangelo came in rolling a dinner cart. He looked at Adam but he did not smile and he did not speak. He wheeled the cart over to the table and spread a tablecloth, put out silver and plates. From covered dishes a delicious smell rose. When the dinner was set out he looked over at Joshua, who simply nodded. Arcangelo glanced again at Adam, then left, closing the door quietly behind him. Joshua locked the door from the inside, came back to the table and sat down, beckoning to Adam. “Come on. You’ll feel better after you’ve had some food.”

  “I’d feel lots better if I knew more about what was going on.”

  Joshua looked at him thoughtfully. “Yes, we all would. But I can’t be open with you unless you’ll be open with me.”

  Adam was sitting on the side of the bed still in his travelling suit, which was by now thoroughly wrinkled. He leaned down and reached for his shoes, put them on. As he walked, rather stiffly, to the table, he said, “I’m sorry, but I’m so confused that I don’t think I can be very open with anybody.” He pulled out his chair, deliberately trying to curb his instinctive liking for Joshua. “I’m just a dumb American kid and the things that have been happening are beyond me.”

  Joshua ladled some interesting-smelling soup into Adam’s dish. “Fair enough. We’ll try to clear up what we can. Mind if I ask you a few questions? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’d appreciate it if you’d try. Then I’ll know better what to do next. Do you want to go back to America?”

  Oddly enough Adam wasn’t even tempted. He was in the middle of this thing, and it was a mess, and he hated it, but he knew that he could not deliberately walk out on it until he knew what it was all about. “No.”

  “Then what do you think you should do?”

  Adam swallowed some of the soup; it was delicious and delicate, with a faintly sour, sorrel taste. “I think I should go to Gaea to work for Dr. O’Keefe the way Dr. Didymus wanted me to do.”

  “And Dr. O’Keefe?”

  “What about him?”

  “Do you think he wants you?”

  “That was the understanding when I left Woods Hole.”

  “But things have happened since then. Do you think he can trust you?”

  “Why not?” Adam asked warily.

  “He told you not to open the door of your room at the Avenida Palace, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet you opened it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It seemed to me that it was the right thing to do.”

  “Why?”

  “I was alone, and Poly was kidnapped, and I was responsible for her.”

  “Did you think opening the door would help you find her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I just did.”

  Sighing rather absently Joshua removed the soup plates—Adam had not quite finished his soup—and put them on the serving cart. Raising the metal dome from a platter of fish Joshua asked, “Did you just open the door of your own accord and go blundering off in the dark in the middle of the night to look for Poly? Or was someone on the other side of the door? Did you let someone into the room?”

  Adam did not answer and Joshua deftly placed a sauce-covered fish on his plate, then handed him a bowl of little, wrinkled olives. Adam took an olive and it was tender and delicious. With the pit still in his mouth he said, “I don’t think I can tell you.” He looked at Joshua and fought down the temptation to spill everything out to him. Putting the olive pit on his plate he said, “I’d like to tell you. It’s just that I have to know more about what’s what.”

  Joshua nodded. “Yes. I see that. From your point of view this is perfectly reasonable. But under the circumstances this entire situation is too potentially explosive for me to be able to do anything until I know more about what happened from the moment you opened that door. I am going on the assumption that you opened it to someone. Unless I can find out where you went and who you were with I shall have no alternative to sending you back to the States.” With an expert stroke of his knife he removed the backbone of his fish.

  Adam asked, “Do you know what happened up to the time I opened the door?”

  “Yes. I have talked at length with Poly, with her father, and, on a closed Embassy line, with Canon Tallis in Madrid. I completely understand how confusing all of this must be for you. And Father Tallis is inclined to trust you, and he’s a perceptive old boy. I have a lot of faith in his judgment. He’s never blinded by sentimentality. If I’d put Poly in your charge and you’d let her disappear I’d have you on the next jet to New York. Sorry, Adam. I know it wasn’t your fault. All I mean is that I’d have blamed you, fault or no, out of my own guilt, and Canon Tallis didn’t.”

  Adam said excitedly. “But then you see why I had to open the door, why I had to try to find Poly. It was the only way I knew.”

  “Yes,” Joshua said thoughtfully. “I see that. Okay. After we’ve finished dinner we’ll go to my flat; your luggage has been taken there. You can change into fresh clothes, and then maybe it might be a good idea if we go to the Embassy. If there’s anyone you’d like to talk to it can be arranged from there.”

  “Who would I want to talk to?”

  “Canon Tallis?”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Your parents?”

  “I don’t want them upset.”

  “Dr. Didymus? I think it might help if you talked to him.”

  “I don’t know,” Adam said. “I just don’t know.”

  “Eat your fish,” Joshua told him. “Brain food, my grandmother always used to say.”

  “You mean you think I need it?”

  Joshua laughed. “Don’t we all.” He removed the fish plates to the serving tray, and helped Adam to meat, rice, carrots. “Still hungry? I’ve never managed to get used to two seven-course meals a day, so I get around it by not eating any lunch. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve eaten, hasn’t it?”

  “It probably has,” Adam said. “I don’t remember. But I am still hungry, and this is very good.” Then, feeling that perhaps he had been too friendly he picked up his knife and fork. If only he did not have this instinctive feeling that Joshua Archer was someone to be trusted he could be more objective. But if Typhon Cutter and Kali were right then Joshua was the last person in the world to trust.

  “Adam,” Joshua said, “have you seen Carolyn Cutter since you went into the coffee shop with her at the airport in New York?”

  “How do you know I saw her then?”

  “I happen to know it from several sources,” Joshua said. “The one that might interest you most is Typhon Cutter. He mentioned it at the dinner table at the Embassy.”

  “You mean the night Poly was kidnapped?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure Poly is all right?”

  “I told you she’s on Gaea with her parents.”

  “How do I know that you’re telling me the truth?”

  “You don’t. You’re just going to have to follow your instincts about me one way or the other.”

  Adam glowered across the table. “But I don’t trust my instincts any more, Mr. Archer.”

  “Call me Josh.”

/>   “Okay.”

  “What’s wrong with your instincts?”

  “They’re just not working,” Adam said. “I do have a feeling that somebody has to be right and somebody has to be wrong, but I haven’t a dream who is which.”

  “Would it help any if I tell you that I trust you?”

  “I don’t know. All I can tell you is that if I needed to be taken down a peg I’ve been taken.”

  “Because Poly was kidnapped while you were in charge of her?”

  “That,” Adam said, “but mostly because I can’t trust my own decisions or my own thoughts. I used to be pretty sure of myself. I thought I could handle just about any situation.”

  “You handled some pretty rough ones in New York, didn’t you?”

  “Well,” Adam said, “yes. How did you know?”

  “Dr. O’Keefe was kind enough to let me see his dossier on you.”

  “How did he know?”

  “His work is too important for him to take any chances. You weren’t aware that you were being investigated?”

  “No. I guess I wasn’t. I thought Dr. Didymus’ recommendation was all that was needed.”

  “Not even Old Doc’s word is enough for something as vital as this. What I liked best of what I read about you was the time you and your Puerto Rican friend—Juan, wasn’t it—”

  “Yes.”

  “—the time the two of you managed to stop a rumble from starting. Maybe that’s what makes me trust you, makes me know that you’re fighting on the same side I am. But I think I’d trust you even if I didn’t know anything about you. Have some salad?”

  “Yes, please.” Adam watched while Joshua served. “Could I ask you a question?”

  “Fire ahead.”

  “You say you know I went into that coffee shop with Kali—”

  “Yes.”

  “She told me her father has businesses here.”

  “That’s right. He does.”

  “And that he knows lots of people at the Embassy.”

  “Correct.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Slightly. I’m not important enough for him to bother with.”

  “What do you think of him?”

  “That he’s a very clever man.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “As far as I could throw the bathtub.”

  “Is this instinct, or do you have reasons?”

  “Both.”

  “Could I know the reasons?”

  Joshua seemed to ponder. Finally he said, “He cares more about money than he does about anything else. Money and power. And he doesn’t care who’s sacrificed as long as he gets them.”

  “Is Dr. O’Keefe powerful?”

  “Not in his own mind, certainly, and only because his mind can run circles around any other mind I’ve ever met. But power is always subordinate with him. Manipulating people is the last thing in the world he’d want.”

  “So what do you think about power?” Adam demanded.

  “Power corrupts,” Joshua quoted. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

  Adam sighed.

  Joshua stood up. “You don’t want any dessert, do you? We’ll have coffee at my place. I’ve made my decision about you, Adam, whether you trust me or not.”

  For a moment Adam felt only relieved that the decision had been made, that it had been taken out of his hands. Then he knew that if Joshua Archer were to try to send him back to America he would have to escape him somehow and go back to Kali and her father.

  But Joshua said, “I’m going to take you to Gaea.”

  9

  They left the hotel without speaking to anybody, without giving in keys at the desk, without further communication with Arcangelo. Joshua turned to the right and they walked briskly for about ten minutes through the sweet summer darkness. They stopped before a narrow house faced in gleaming blue-and-white patterned tile. “Ever seen the Portuguese tile before?” Joshua asked absently, not waiting for Adam to respond. “It’s quite famous.” He put his key in the door. “I have the top floor. Modest, but mine. I love this stairway. Pink marble. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Adam followed him up three flights.

  At the top was a blue painted door, which Joshua also unlocked, saying, “Gone are those innocent days when I didn’t worry about keys. I got awfully tired of having my things gone through. So ’Gelo very kindly helped me fashion a lock that is impossible to pick or duplicate.”

  “Who is Arcangelo?” Adam demanded.

  “My very good friend.” Joshua flicked a switch and in the ceiling a crystal chandelier sparkled into life.

  Adam looked around. They were in a fair-sized room, a room that smelled of tobacco and books. It was, indeed, more of a library than a living room, as there were books not only on all four walls but piled on tables and windowsills. Adam saw in a quick glance a record player and shelves of records, a sagging couch covered with an India print, an old red rep easy chair, a large desk that looked as though it had been discarded from an office. It was a good room, the kind of room Adam had dreamed of having some day. He looked at a Picasso print over one of the bookshelves, a sad-eyed harlequin on a white horse. The harlequin reminded him of someone, and suddenly he realized that it was Joshua himself.

  Joshua pointed to an open door. “Bedroom and bath. Go in and make yourself at home. Your stuff’s all in there. I’ll make us some coffee. I don’t have a proper kitchen, just a hot plate, but it does.”

  Adam nodded and went to the bedroom. It was a small, bare room, furnished only with a narrow brass bed, a chest of drawers, a straight chair. The walls were white and absolutely bare. The room was cold and austere in comparison to the cluttered warmth of the living room.

  Adam washed his hands and face. He was not being sent back to America. He was going to Gaea. He could not help liking Joshua. But if he should see Kali again how would he feel? So far he had managed to tell Joshua nothing of any importance, and Joshua did not seem to be going to pursue his questioning.

  —Play it cool, Adam, he seemed to hear a voice in his ear. Kali’s voice.

  As long as nobody knew that it was Kali who had come to him at the Avenida Palace, that it was to Kali’s apartment he had gone, that he was expected to work for Typhon Cutter as a—what had Mr. Cutter said? Patriotic duty, wasn’t it?—then he had not yet committed himself to either side. And as long as he didn’t commit himself he couldn’t do anything too terribly wrong. Could he?

  —I wish things were black and white, he thought savagely. —I wish things were clear.

  He remembered his math teacher back at school, a brilliant young Irishman, telling of his personal confusion when he first began to study higher mathematics and discovered that not all mathematical problems have one single and simple answer, that there is a choice of answers and a decision to be made by the mathematician even when dealing with something like an equation that ought to be definite and straightforward and to allow of no more than one interpretation. “And that’s the way life is,” the teacher had said. “Right and wrong, good and evil, aren’t always clear and simple for us; we have to interpret and decide; we have to commit ourselves, just as we do with this equation.”

  As though reading his thoughts Joshua came and lounged in the doorway. “Don’t hold off too long, Adam. The time comes when you have to make a choice and you’re not going to be able to put it off much longer. Unless you’ve already made it?”

  “I don’t know.” Adam rubbed his face with a clean, rough towel.

  “The trouble is,” Joshua said, “that I can’t guarantee you anything. If you decide to work with Dr. O’Keefe I can’t in any honesty tell you that anything is going to be easier for you than it has been for the past few days. I can tell you that nobody expected things to start breaking quite so soon, or we wouldn’t have let you come. You were never supposed to be in any kind of danger. It was pure coincidence that it was this summer that Old Doc decided you were worth sending to Dr. O’Keef
e to be educated. Of course neither Canon Tallis nor Dr. O’Keefe believe in coincidence. I’m afraid that I do, and that we’re often impaled upon it. Then, on the other hand, I can’t help wondering if it was pure coincidence that made Canon Tallis finish his work in Boston at just the moment he did so that he and Poly were on the plane with you.”

  “But if he was lecturing there,” Adam protested, “he’d know when he was going to be through.”

  “Oh, did he tell you he was lecturing? Well, probably he was,” Joshua said somewhat vaguely. “The main thing is that if you’re worth educating then I suppose you ought to be up to facing whatever there is to face, oughtn’t you?”

  “What is there to face?” Adam sat at the foot of Joshua’s bed.

  Joshua did not answer his question. Instead: “Maybe it’ll help you if I tell you that it wasn’t easy for me, either. I don’t know about you, Adam, but I can’t look forward to pie in the sky. I’m a heretic and a heathen, and I let myself depend far too much on the human beings I love, because—well, just because. I guess the real point is that I care about having a decent world, and if you care about having a decent world you have to take sides. You have to decide who, for you, are the good guys, and who are the bad guys. So, like the fool that I am, I chose the difficult side, the unsafe side, the side that guarantees me not one thing besides danger and hard work.”

  “Then why did you choose it?” Adam demanded.

  Joshua continued to lean against the door. “Why? I’m not sure I did. It seemed to choose me, unlikely material though I be. And it’s the side that—that cares about people like Polyhymnia O’Keefe.” He wheeled and went back into the living room. In a moment the sound of music came clear and gay, Respighi’s The Birds, Adam thought, following him into the living room. Joshua grinned. “It’s the fall of the sparrow I care about, Adam. But who is the sparrow? We run into problems there, too. Now let’s have our coffee.”

  He picked up a battered white enamel percolator from the hot plate on one of the bookcases. “Want to go to the Embassy when we’re through?”

  Adam watched Joshua pour the dark and fragrant brew. “Why? Do we have to?”

  Joshua handed him a cup, indicated sugar and milk. “No. Not if you don’t want to.”