“But—”
The Ambassador banged down onto the desk a coffee cup Adam hadn’t even realized he was holding so that the dark liquid slopped into the saucer. “We are not going to try to do more than we know we can do. If this seems to you inadequate expediency, try to remember that one battle won today permits us to embark on the next, and then a next, and all the long ones that are to follow.” He rose. Was it then, or later? In any case the blinded time in the bright office was finally over and Adam followed the dark, erect form of the canon down the stairs. They left the light and music of the Embassy and climbed into the police car.
“I’ll take you back to Gaea,” Canon Tallis said.
Adam nodded.
“We’ll take Joshua’s plane. I’m not the pilot he was, but I’ll get us there.”
“And Cutter?” Adam repeated, thickly.
“How much were you able to listen to?” There was no censure in the question. “He’s been given a week to leave Portugal. He’ll lose his property here, and all the money he has tied up in it. His Portuguese operation is over.”
Adam clenched his fists. “That’s not—” he started savagely.
“No revenge is, Adam.”
At the little airport Arcangelo was waiting. He held out the heavy jackets, the goggles, helped strap them in. Then he looked in silent questioning at Canon Tallis, who said, “Father Henriques is bringing Joshua tomorrow. Come with him.” He leaned out of the pilot’s seat and reached for Arcangelo’s hand. “Thank you, Arcangelo. Thank God for you.”
Arcangelo shrugged, smiled briefly, went to the propeller. The plane shuddered into life, moved slowly along the runway, jerked, and left the ground.
Once again time was outside Adam, or perhaps it was Adam who was outside time. He sat in the cockpit of the same small plane where Joshua, in the pilot’s seat, had sung the “Ode to Joy” as they bucked wildly through the boisterous clouds. Now Canon Tallis sat darkly at the controls, closed in, stern. Above them and around them the stars were thick. Below was a sea of white clouds.
—He’s flying this crate much too high, Adam thought fleetingly.
It didn’t matter. They would or they would not get to the island, and whichever one it was didn’t matter, either.
The plane jerked and dropped. Canon Tallis grimly pulled on the stick and the plane steadied and nosed upward again.
“Why didn’t you kill Molèc?” Adam shouted suddenly. He strained for the answer.
“Would that have brought Joshua back?”
With the taste of ashes in his mouth Adam realized that his grief was nothing beside the canon’s. He slouched down in his seat as though to avoid the piercing light of the stars. Behind them the moon, just beyond fullness, sailed lopsided and serene. Through a rift in the clouds it made a path upon the water below.
And all Adam wanted to do was to swear, to split the pure and silver air with every blasphemy he had ever heard on the streets. He shuddered, controlled himself, shuddered again. He bellowed, the words coming out like oaths, “She has my passport!”
“Kali?”
“Yes.”
“All right. We’ll get it.”
“I don’t want it,” Adam cried. “I don’t want anything.”
To this the canon did not reply. He seemed to be concentrating only on the plane, the stars above, the clouds below.
They moved through space; they must also have moved through time. The clouds were gone and below them lay the vast, slowly breathing surface of the sea. Ahead was the dark shadow of the island. The plane nosed downward, and suddenly along the beach flares were lit, one after another, outlining a runway for the landing.
Dr. O’Keefe was there, with José, María’s husband. Four horses were hitched to the barnacled pile.
Canon Tallis climbed stiffly from the plane. Adam unstrapped himself and followed. Beyond the barest greeting there was no talking. Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis rode ahead, Adam and José behind. José spoke no English, but once he looked over at Adam and said softly, “Jhoshuajh …” and Adam could see that tears were trickling quietly down his cheeks. Looking at José’s tears Adam fought down a reaction to shout, “Shut up!” He bowed his head and let the horse carry him along the water’s edge, the drumming of the hoofbeats muffled in the sand.
The horses moved with unhurried pace, taking them inexorably through time, through space.
In the bungalows lights were on in the living quarters.
—Make Poly be in bed, Adam thought savagely.—I cannot see her. I cannot see Charles.
They dismounted. The horses followed José, and Adam followed Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis. Only Mrs. O’Keefe was in the living room and she drew Adam to her in a quick, maternal embrace. Adam felt an enormous sob rising within him and pulled from the circle of her arms. She held him not with her arms but with her eyes. “You must not blame yourself.”
“It started with the door at the Avenida Palace,” Adam said. “If I hadn’t opened the door—”
The canon cut brusquely across his words. “Or the fog in New York. Or if I had not asked you to take Poly back to Lisbon. This is foolish talk and must be stopped.”
“But he died for me,” Adam choked. “I gave Kali his phone numbers and he pushed me into one of the monk’s cells and Molèc’s bullet hit him.”
“He died for us all,” the canon said, “and if you love him you will have to stop talking and thinking like this, because what you have to do now is to live. For him, and for us all.”
Mrs. O’Keefe moved to the arch that led to the living quarters. “And what you have to do at this particular moment is to go to bed. There will be work tomorrow.”
—Work? What work? Adam thought numbly, but he bowed a clumsy good night and went to bed.
24
In the morning Poly brought Adam his breakfast. She put the tray down on the bed and then stood looking at him steadily and, it seemed to him, accusingly. He had been weighed again and found wanting.
But when she spoke she said only “Adam—” and then, “Adam, I do love you and I’m terribly sorry.” At the door she said in a muffled voice, “Daddy and Father expect you in the lab as soon as you’re ready.”
“The lab?” Adam asked stupidly.
Poly ran her fingers with impatience through her hair. “The starfish have to be tended to. Daddy’s work doesn’t stop because—” she broke off. A tremor moved across her face like the wind moving upon water. She stamped angrily to regain control. “Why do you think Joshua went rushing off to you when Kali called him? You don’t think he thought it was fun and games and the good of his health, do you?”
Adam shook his head.
“All right, why, then?”
Adam banged down his cup. “Starfish and sparrows,” he said loudly.
Poly stamped again, “Okay, then,” and hurried out of the room.
Adam finished the cup of now lukewarm coffee, poured another, drinking slowly, unwilling to leave what seemed the comparative safety of his room. Seeing Poly had been bad enough. He wanted to put off seeing anyone else. Slowly, deliberately, he drained the last drops of coffee and milk from the little pots, picked up each crumb of his roll and ate it. Finally there was nothing to do but get dressed, and since his lab clothes were nothing but chino slacks and a tee shirt he could not prolong the process by more than a few minutes. Then he almost ran through the living room, hurried across the breezeway and into the lab.
Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis were standing by one of the tanks. Dr. O’Keefe beckoned to him.
“Look at this, Adam. This is the tiny fragment of starfish arm we planted with nerve rings several weeks ago. Yesterday I’d about given up on it, but look, there’s regeneration beginning. Check the other tanks, will you, please? and let me know if there’s anything unusual.”
Nobody was behaving as though it were an ordinary day, but nevertheless the work in the laboratory was going on, and this was still a shock to Adam. He took care of the starfish, pointe
d out new growth on a lizard, wrote up his notes in the files. He worked automatically, adequately, but his mind was no longer out of time as it had been the night before. He was thrust back into time, and therefore into pain.
This time the day before Joshua had been alive. In the short space of twenty-four hours more had happened than it would seem time possibly could take care of. And time hadn’t taken care of it. Molèc’s bullet had sped through space and time and into Joshua’s heart.
“Adam,” Canon Tallis said, “will you go over these figures, please? These are from Scotland and we want to see if they gibe with Dr. O’Keefe’s findings.”
“Sit down to it,” Dr. O’Keefe suggested as Adam took the sheaf of papers. “It’s important that you check them accurately. You’ll find the equations perfectly straightforward, but you’ll have to concentrate if you don’t want to make errors. We’ll see you later.”
“All right, sir.” Adam had not wanted to come in to the lab to see Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis; now he did not want them to leave. But they went on out, without telling him where they were going. Perhaps to the village to see Virbius or to check the pens there. He did not know. He concentrated on the letters and numbers written in black ink on thin paper. He found that if he was to check them properly he could not think about anything else. At first it was an effort to pay attention to what he was doing; then, as always, the discipline of work took hold of him and he bent over the papers, his lips moving, his bruised mind occupied only with the job Canon Tallis had given him.
He was surprised when Peggy came to call him, hugging him, twining her arms around him lovingly, kissing him over and over again, but not speaking, not explaining the sudden passion of affection.
Mrs. O’Keefe stood in the lab doorway. “Have a quick swim before lunch, Adam. The children are looking for you.”
Adam changed to the navy blue trunks, trying not to look at the zebra-striped ones. The children were waiting for him on the sea wall. Poly wore the red bathing suit, but the color seemed drained from it, from her hair. There was no running and jumping over the sand, no delighted leaping into the surf. Peggy held Adam’s hand. When she was ankle-deep she let go, saying, “I don’t think I’ll go swimming today if you don’t mind, Adam. I want to go back in with Johnny and Rosy.”
Sandy and Dennys sat at the water’s edge, letting the small waves wash over them, letting the damp yellow sand sift through their fingers, talking only to each other.
Poly said, “If you’ll come with me, Adam, I want to swim out a bit.”
“I’ll come, too.” Charles moved to Adam’s other side.
The three of them walked out into the water, not jumping through the waves, simply pushing against them, letting the water break, unheeded, over them, until they were out deep enough so that first Charles could drop down and start to swim, then Poly and Adam.
He did not ask about Macrina. After a while he said, “That’s far enough out, Poly,” and obediently she stopped swimming and began to tread water. She did not make the breathy, whistling noises with which she usually called Macrina. She simply kept treading water and staring out to sea. Charles lay on his back and floated, his eyes closed against the glare of the sun. Adam dog-paddled between them.
He was about to say, “Okay, kids, we’d better go back in,” when there was the familiar flash of silver and Macrina was with them. Poly gave a great cry and flung herself at the dolphin. Charles continued to lie on his back in the water, his eyes closed. Poly’s sobs were enormous, racking the thin body in the red wool bathing suit. For a moment Macrina thrashed the water with her tail. Then she gave a shudder and swam slowly around Poly, keeping her head with the great smiling mouth constantly toward the child. The mouth was smiling but there was no doubt in Adam’s mind that Macrina, now nuzzling Poly’s shoulder, was trying to comfort the child, that Macrina cared. Then the dolphin left Poly and swam over to Charles, nudging at him gently until he opened his eyes, rolled over in the water, and flung his arms around the great, slippery body. When Charles let Macrina go she came to Adam, seeming to look at him questioningly. Then, with a flash of silver, she was gone.
The children swam in. “Come on, Sandy, Dennys,” Poly said to the two little boys who were building a sand castle. As they walked across the burning beach to the bungalow Poly murmured, “She’s not an anthropomorphic dolphin, she’s an anagogical dolphin.”
“Hunh?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know what it means. It’s something Father Tom said once and I made him say it over until I remembered it. I think it’s something good.”
Canon Tallis and Dr. O’Keefe were not at lunch. The younger children chattered desultorily. Adam tried to choke down a few mouthfuls because Charles was looking at him, and when Adam took a bite, Charles took a bite. Once Mrs. O’Keefe turned to Adam, saying in a steady voice, “The Cutters are at the hotel, Adam. They’ll be flying to Spain from here, and then to America. My husband and Father Tallis will go over tonight to get your passport.”
Adam bowed his head to show that he had heard, and took another bite.
Mrs. O’Keefe rose. “Do whatever María tells you to, children. I won’t be very long. Adam, Poly, Charles, come.”
It was only then that Adam noticed that Poly and Charles had changed from their bathing suits to their riding breeches. Mrs. O’Keefe said, “María has laid out your riding clothes for you, Adam. We’ll wait outside.”
The riding breeches Joshua had given Adam the first night on the island were on his bed, together with a clean white shirt. Lying carefully placed on the shirt was the canvas belt with the switchblade knife containing the lethal dose of MS-222. Adam looked at the knife broodingly. Had María put it there? Had Poly? He stripped off his lab clothes and strapped the knife on under the riding clothes.
Poly led the way inland. Since her storm of sobbing in the ocean and the silent comfort of the dolphin she seemed less tightly drawn. As the horses began to climb Adam realized that they were going to the great golden stones where Joshua had taken him the morning he had arrived on the island, the morning he had failed to notice the small cemetery in the clearing.
When they reached the plateau there were several boys from the village waiting to take care of the horses, and Adam saw that there were already other horses there. Around the great table was a large group of people, some seated on the stones, more standing. A few of them Adam recognized: Virbius was there, with Temis. Rabbi Pinhas was there, and Mr. Green, Father Metousis and Arcangelo. Was the inspector from the Madrid airport sitting on one of the stones by the young taxi driver? Their faces were turned away; he could not be sure.
Canon Tallis held the burial service.
Adam had heard the words before. For his grandparents. For a teacher at school. It was the American words which the canon was using for Joshua. Now the words seemed tangible, material; steeled by the English voice they held him erect on the stone bench where he sat between Poly and Charles.
“ … Remember thy servant Joshua, O Lord,” Canon Tallis said, “according to the favor which thou bearest unto thy people, and grant that, increasing in knowledge and love of thee, he may go from strength to strength, in the life of perfect service … .”
Charles reached over and took Adam’s cold hand in his smaller but equally cold one.
“Unto God’s gracious mercy and protection we commit you,” Canon Tallis said. “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace both now and evermore.”
They moved from the golden stones across the rough grass and into the clearing where the open grave waited. Charles continued to hold Adam’s hand. Once he pressed his face against Adam’s shirt. Then he turned and looked back at Canon Tallis. On Adam’s other side Poly stood, still as death.
Adam closed his eyes.
It was over.
The group dispersed quietly. It was only as Adam went with Charles to the
horses where Dr. and Mrs. O’Keefe stood waiting with Canon Tallis that he realized that Poly had gone from his side, that she was nowhere to be seen.
“Stay with Charles,” the doctor said. “We’ll look for her.”
They waited, and Charles said only, “Don’t worry, Adam, Poly’s all right.”
When Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis returned alone, Charles said, without anxiety, “I think she’s gone to the village with Temis. She has to be away from us for a little while.”
Mrs. O’Keefe looked at her husband. “Will you ride over and see?”
The doctor nodded. “Tom, come with me. She may need you.”
Now there were just the three of them on the plateau, Adam, Mrs. O’Keefe and Charles, and to one side two little village boys staying faithfully with the horses. Adam asked Mrs. O’Keefe, “Would you and Charles be all right if I ride over to the hotel? I’d like to get my passport back myself.”
She looked at him. “If this is what you think you want to do, Adam. Charles and I will be fine in any case. But please be home in time for dinner.”
Adam agreed absently. He was not thinking of dinner. As he rode toward the hotel darkness closed in on him again. He did not see the sun, or even feel its rays, although he frequently raised his arm to wipe off the sweat that streamed down his face. He rode through darkness and through time. The sun was slipping down the sky toward the west when the path opened out between the hotel landing strip and the tennis courts and swimming pool.
He did not know what he was going to do or say when he saw Typhon Cutter and Kali. He was not thinking primarily about his passport. This would be easy enough for Dr. O’Keefe and Canon Tallis to get. He only knew that the anger that burned in him would not abate until he had seen Kali, Kali who had deliberately led him into the killing at the Saô Juan Chrysostom Monastery. Her high, shrill laugh echoed in his ears.
He hitched the tired white horse to a tree at the end of the path, walked past the landing strip, along the beach, up the path between tennis courts and swimming pool, glancing at the courts where two paunchy men were playing. The pool was emptying; only a handful of young people remained splashing in the water, or sitting on the sides of the pool, dangling their legs and sipping Cokes. He almost walked by without seeing a girl in a black bathing suit sitting alone on the diving board. Her head was down on her knees, and her fair hair fell in a graceful sweep across her face.
The Arm of the Starfish Page 23