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Authors: Gene Wolfe

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BOOK: A Borrowed Man
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“I didn't ask her about that, but knowing her I can give you a good guess. She would have tried Menswear first, then Luggage, then maybe Lingerie and Women's Wear in case I was buying something for her. After that, all the other departments. She'd have turned up a list of those somewhere, probably alphabetized. This tearoom is called Alice's.”

It made sense, and I nodded. “Have you bought what you need?”

“Not yet. I parked Geraldine and walked Mahala into the terminal, and we sat around for a while. When I came in, I saw you and that little guy.”

“Chick.”

“Right. What are we going to do about the woman that Mahala saw? About Colette?”

“That's the least of our problems. She will almost certainly go out to the house. This time we'll get there first and wait for her. Who was she looking for in the bus terminal?”

Georges considered. “That's a good question. You want a guess? Chick.”

“I doubt it. A better one would be his boss, van Petten, but I believe there's another that's better still.”

“What is it?”

I shook my head. “I'm going to reserve that. It's a mere guess, but it's mine until we know more. Why did they come here?”

“Ah! I think I know that one. Chick has money, so he'll have an eephone for sure. He spotted you coming out of police headquarters, and he saw a chance to score points with his boss. While he was tailing you, he texted him and told him he'd seen you.…” Georges paused. “Wait up! That won't work. If his boss and the girl were out of town, they can't have gotten here that fast. Not even in a flitter.”

“Correct. But they probably did fly in.”

Georges rubbed his chin. “She came by car before. We found that rented car. You turned it in.”

“That's understandable. She was afraid to return to her apartment building in Spice Grove to get her flitter. Whether they were watching it or not, she would have thought they were. From what I know of her, that is a certainty.”

“She has a private flitter?”

I nodded. “A small red one, a two-seater. I've flown in it.”

“You said ‘they.' Do you think van Petten's with her?”

“I do. Or she's with him. That might be more precise.”

“Suppose she's here alone?”

“Then I will have been proven wrong. She will have returned to what she believes, perhaps correctly, to be a hotbed—”

“And shown her face in public in the bus stations. I get it. You're probably right. Do his superiors know he has her?”

By that time, I was thinking of something else. “I don't know,” I said, “and I doubt that it matters. Here's something that does. Let's assume they're together, which I think likely. Assume, too, that van Patten was with her in the terminal. Mahala wouldn't have recognized him, and it doesn't seem probable that he'd let Colette go off on her own—or that she would want to. What brought them to New Delphi?”

“Damn it, I need more kafe.” Georges waved at the wait 'bot and held up his cup.

“Also time to think.” I sipped what remained of my tea. “Go ahead. If you come up with something I haven't thought of, I'll be happy to hear it.”

“You know, I ordered these and I've hardly touched them.” Georges pushed away the pastries. “I thought I was hungry.”

“You've eaten two,” I told him. “One before your screen and another after. But please go ahead. Have a third.”

“Kind of you.” Georges grinned. “I'll pick up the check.”

“I assumed you would.”

The wait 'bot poured his kafe, collected the whitener jug, and set a fresh one on the table.

“All right,” Georges said when it had left. “You want to know why the girlfriend came here. As I see it, it had to be one of two things. Here's the first. One of the 'bots back at the house was under orders to screen her if we showed up, and did. Probably the maid.”

“Possible, but I doubt it. What's the other?”

“Chick called in yesterday. Not just to tell van Petten he'd gotten here, but something else that made Colette and van Patten move fast.” Georges paused. “By the way, are we on their side? Or are we going to try to get her away from him?”

“I don't know. We'll find out when the two of them come to the house—or so I think.”

 

17

E
SCAPE

“Ms. Coldbrook and her guest are waiting for you in the sunroom, sir.” The maid 'bot opened the door all the way and stood aside.

I wanted to say, “Sure”; but what I really said was, “You needn't show me in.” I was alone. Like somebody I had been thinking about, I had paid off my cab and walked up to the front door. Unlike him I had rung the bell, though I had a card for the door in my pocket; and it had come to me while I waited for somebody to answer it that I was going to have to get used to being alone again. When it did, I realized that I had known it ever since Georges and Mahala had left me to shop, with instructions to meet at the bus station. I have a subconscious, just like you and everybody else, and now and then mine shows me that it is a lot smarter than I am.

Colette stood up and hugged me. Probably you will laugh, but her hug has stuck with me. Also you will probably think Colette is a witch when you finish reading all this clear to the end (if I ever get to the end), but she is not and I could never think of her that way if I tried. The luck of the draw plays some really nasty tricks on a good many of us, and if you do not understand that, there is a whole lot about life that you do not understand. Take it from me; I am on my second, and I know. Destiny is what the cruel twist in my brain would make me call it if I wanted to say it out loud. God is playing a board game with himself, or that is one way to look at it. He shakes three dice and throws, and two of them are Destiny and Chance. It was a good hug from a fully human who smelled glorious and looked even better, and it was warm and long.

Van Petten—I had already guessed that he was the tall young cop who had tied us up in Colette's apartment—held out his hand when she let me go. I could see he knew I was just a reclone, but he made himself do it. So I shook his hand quick and hard, and said thank you; by the time we let go, which was maybe less than one half of one second, I had given up wondering what he wanted; I knew I was about to find out.

I should have guessed it by then, because the answer was really easy.

“Have a seat, Mr. Smithe,” van Petten told me, and sat down on the couch; you would have thought he owned the house.

Colette was already sitting there, close enough that their elbows touched. “I've still got you checked out, Ern.” She smiled.

I explained that I had returned myself when I thought she had been kidnapped. I did not tell her it had been a prize mistake, that I ought to have known better, or that I was still ashamed of it.

The smile got a little bit brighter, if anything. “I understand, but I didn't return you; so I've never gotten my deposit back.”

“In that case, I'll return myself again when they find out you haven't really been kidnapped.” I was smiling back at her. “When I do, the library will be happy to refund your deposit.”

“I don't want it, Ern. They sell you—sell reclones like you, I mean—don't they? When the library no longer wants them? I've bought disks like that.”

I nodded and braced myself, knowing what was coming.

“Wonderful! They'll sell you now. You're practically new, so they'll want more money. I'll pay whatever they want, and I know the president of the Friends. She can put a little pressure on them if we need it. I'll get you and I plan to keep you. Wouldn't you rather sleep in a nice bedroom than live on a shelf?”

I nodded again.

“Has anybody checked you out besides me?”

Two nods are all right, but three are too many. I said, “Two officers of the law.” I had tried to say “cops,” but that would not work. “Two detectives” [ought to be: “dicks”] “from the Spice Grove Police.”

I turned to van Petten. “Their last names were Payne and Fish. I have never known their first names. Possibly you know them?”

He shook his head.

Colette asked what they had wanted.

“They wanted you. You're a prominent resident of Spice Grove, and you had been taken from our hotel suite in Owenbright. Kidnapped by criminals, or so they—and I—believed. They thought, just as I did, that you might be somewhere in Spice Grove. Since neither they nor I had any idea where you might be, Spice Grove seemed as likely a place as any. Failing that, it might be possible for them to learn where you were and inform the Owenbright police. In either case, Payne and Fish would receive a great deal of credit, as would the entire Spice Grove department. They hoped I knew where you were, or if I did not that I knew something that might point them toward your correct location.”

Van Petten grunted. I could see that he was taking all of it in, but I could not guess what he planned to do with it.

Colette said, “I'd think they could've asked you about that without checking you out.”

“They asked me scores of questions by which they hoped to elicit information of value, and struck me whenever they thought it might make their questioning more effective. I was forced to describe your mother, for example, although I had never seen her.”

“Did they know about the book?”

There it was.

“Only what I told them about it.” Remembering those hours hurt. “Also that it was very rare. Fish tried to use a screen—there was one in another room—to locate a copy. He could not.”

“But you know about it,” van Petten said. “Tell us about that.”

“Indeed I do. The title is
Murder on Mars.
Colette had her father's copy in her shaping bag when she consulted me. She showed it to me then, and allowed me to examine it after she had checked me out. For some reason her father seems to have valued it. Surely she's told you.”

“I checked you out,” Colette said, “and you say these policemen checked you out so they could question you. Was there anyone else?”

“There was another man who tried to check me out when I was in Owenbright.” I was still talking to van Petten. “Short, blond, and fairly young. His name's Chick, or at least that's what he calls himself—Chick Bantz. He's an employee of yours or says he is.”

Van Petten nodded. “He works for me off and on.”

“The Owenbright Library could not permit it, since I was not theirs and they had not received me as an interlibrary loan. May I ask why you attach so much importance to this?”

“I don't,” van Petten told me. “Colette does. But anything that's important to her is important to me. I think she wants to see if you've been checked out by other women.”

“I do not!”

I said, “The answer is no. Only by Payne and Fish, and both are men.”

Van Petten said, “Let me be blunt. I won't threaten you, because that's not something I do. We want you on our side. You know the library will burn you if there isn't a lot of demand for you.”

I nodded.

“For them it makes sense. You have to be fed every day, from time to time you need new clothes and so on. Colette checked you out. Fine, but she's one of us. Chick would have if he could, but he's one of us, too. Payne and Fish won't check you out again once they find out Colette's no longer missing. You know how the library operates. She and I have only a vague idea. Suppose you go back now and nobody else checks you out. Nobody, ever. How long would you say you'll have?”

“How long will I live?”

Van Petten nodded.

“Fifteen years, barring unforeseen circumstances.” I was stretching it.

He leaned forward. “And what might those unforeseen circumstances be?”

“Suppose that someone visited the library regularly to consult me. He didn't check me out, you understand, but he and I went to a table and conversed for an hour or more each time. I might get a considerable extension in that way.”

Van Petten nodded. “Are there others?”

“Certainly. They would try to sell me before burning me. If I were lucky, someone might buy me. Do you want more?”

“Suppose you were sold. Could your new owner burn you?”

I should not have smiled, but I am afraid I did. Van Petten was thinking exactly as I had feared. I said, “Of course. You knew that.”

“I did, but I wanted to confirm it.” Van Petten might have been talking to a chair.

“As you now have. You invite me to join you. As soon as I do, you will want to know where the book is and what I've learned about its secret. A bit of experimentation will show you that you've learned all that you really need to know. So the fire for me, or the shredder. Whatever you choose.”

Colette said softly, “I wouldn't let him, Ern.”

“You couldn't stop him,” I told her.

After that I think van Petten said she would not have to, but I was not paying much attention. From the front of the house, I had heard a woman's voice and footsteps; and I thought,
Oh my God, it's Chick bringing Arabella! What have I gotten her into?

A second or two later the maid 'bot appeared in the doorway carrying a beat-up suitcase. Behind the 'bot, I saw Mrs. Peters.

Colette jumped up. “Judy! It's Judy! I can't believe it!”

Van Petten was looking at me; but I ignored him, getting up and going over to the two women, who were hugging and whispering.

Colette turned to me, radiant. “You got her for me! Ern, you're wonderful!”

I nodded. “I try.”

Mrs. Peters was beaming. “I know I wasn't going to start till Monday, Mr. Smithe, but I—well, I didn't have anything particular to do today, and I thought it might be good for me to have a look at things here to find out what I ought to do first when I went to work. I hope you don't mind.”

BOOK: A Borrowed Man
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