by Gene Wolfe
Cassie’s nod felt forced.
“Here’s my compromise. If you’ll get into my car, where I can see you and you can see me, Carlos will return to his place behind the wheel, leaving the door open. I’ll tell you my news then. I may or may not give you the gift I mentioned. It was expensive, even for me, so if the moment doesn’t seem appropriate I’ll withhold it.”
Her courage had returned. “Please do, Wally. I don’t like to take gifts from men. If you’re a friend, you don’t have to prove it by giving me presents. If you’re not, I don’t want anything from you.”
“I’m financing the show you’re in as a vehicle for you, Cassie.”
She nodded. “I suspected that, and I’m grateful. But I didn’t ask for it, and if you’d asked me whether I wanted it, I’d have said no.”
“Please sit down.” Reis’s voice was spectral as ever. “You’re tired, as you said. Your face says it for you, and more forcefully. I never enjoy cruelty, and I detest the idea of being cruel to you. Sit down. You have my word.”
As she slid onto the white leather seat, Reis’s face floated above a seat facing her own. “That’s better. Much better. Is the door still open?”
Her eyes darted toward it. “Yes. Thanks, Wally.”
“You’re very welcome. If you’ll look to your left, you should be able to see into the front seat. Is Carlos there?”
She nodded. “He’s just getting in.”
“Good. Look at this.”
Reis’s face vanished. The stage replaced it, and she herself stood singing on that stage.
“It’s only when I’m quite alone
that I can see my soul,”
Her vidimage stood beside her, and seemed about to speak.
“It’s then that I am Woman
the one thing God made whole.”
She clasped hands with her soul, and the two began to dance.
Her images vanished. After a half second of darkness, Reis’s face filled the screen once more. “I wanted you to see yourself as others see you. I wanted you to see what the audience sees — what I’ve seen so often, playing and replaying the Cassie Casey captured for me by a friend’s digital camcorder. Now that you have, do you understand why every man who sees you wants you so badly?”
“No.” Cassie shook her head. “No, I don’t, Wally. There are a lot of good-looking women out there.”
“Could they play Mariah Brownlea? Would they draw the crowds you do in the part?”
Cassie said nothing.
“I came back to America to entrap you, Cassie. To entrap and destroy you. When you came up to the microphone to take my gold bracelet, I realized I had made a horrible mistake. For a time — a brief time — I continued on the path I’d laid out for myself. I’m stubborn, and I can be stupidly stubborn.”
“Wally...”
“While we sat together in this car, I scrapped all those plans. Every man who sees you desires you, Cassie.” Reis smiled. “I will win you. I alone, out of all the millions. Would you like to be a queen?”
She could only stare.
“I’m talking about real royalty. You’ll be a queen who rules, as well as a queen who reigns. You’ll sit on a throne, a throne of black basalt carved immemorial ages ago, and wear your crown when you choose to. If you choose to elevate a man, he will kiss your feet in gratitude. If you choose to execute that man later, he will be made to lay his head on a stone. Should I tell you the rest?”
“I think it might be good for me to hear it, Wally.”
“You recovered quickly. I like that. He will be made to lay his head upon a certain stone, and there it will be smashed with a club. You will be queen, and I will be your king whenever I am there. Think about it.”
“I will.” Cassie swallowed. “I’d like to take the show to Broadway first.”
“Of course.” In the screen, Reis nodded. “The two are not mutually exclusive. There will be a film, as well. You, Queen Cassiopeia of Takanga, will star in that film.”
“You know my r-real name.”
“I know a good deal, Cassie. For a man in love, study of that kind is a pleasure. Now the gift. There is a sort of bag built into the door on your left. It’s in there. You can take it out now.”
She did, noticing that the box wrapped in gold paper was the same shape as the first, although not as heavy. “All right if I unwrap it?”
“Please do.”
She slid the ribbon of gold lace off and laid it on the seat. The stiff gold paper followed; the leather of the box it had wrapped was the color of old gold, and as soft as butter to her touch.
“Open it, Cassie.”
She did.
And felt that she floated in space above some immense rectangular city. That she sailed through the night sky above a city whose countless lights were far too bright for stars.
Too bright and too near.
WHEN Cassie looked up the door of the limousine was shut and the limousine in motion; she tried to speak and failed, coughed, and whispered, “I’ve never seen so many diamonds. Or such big ones.”
“Few people have.”
“It’s hard — very hard — to keep my eyes off it.” She closed the jewel box. “You promised you wouldn’t shut your car door, Wally.”
“Your expression gave consent. Are you frightened?”
She shook her head.
“You’re right. There’s no reason why you should be. We’re simply taking you to your hotel. Since you’ll be wearing that bracelet when you go into the lobby, Carlos will accompany you as far as the door of your room. I think that’s a wise precaution and hope you’ll agree.”
“I’d rather not take it out of the box.” Cassie felt she was strangling.
“If you want to hear my news, which you may consider moderately important, you’ll have to put on my bracelet, Your Majesty. It concerns your friend Dr. Chase.”
Cassie opened the box, took the bracelet out, and fumbled with the catch.
“Thanks. Someone tried to kill Dr. Chase, but only succeeded in wounding him. You know that, and you probably think I was behind the shooting. Chase himself may well be of your opinion, but you’re both mistaken. That’s my first news item. I hope you’ll agree it was worth the labor of putting on my bracelet.”
Cassie did not speak.
“My second is that I’m trying to find out who the shooter was and who’s behind him. The identity of the man who pulled the trigger is not really important. What is, is the identity of the person who got him to do it. That may matter a great deal. In time I’ll learn it, I promise you. When I do, I’ll probably tell you. That isn’t a promise, but I think it will work out like that. I’ll tell Chase as well — or you can.”
“I still think it was you.”
“It wasn’t. Chase is only a minor threat to me, and I rarely wish those who are dead. Anyone strong enough and clever enough to be a threat to me is someone I’d prefer to win over. I try, and succeed in most cases. When I fail, I can generally draw their fangs without killing them.”
“I’m not strong, Wally. I’m not clever, either.”
Reis smiled. “Do you really think I want you, Cassie, for the same reason I want Chase?”
GIL CORBY
The telephone woke Cassie at ten minutes past eight.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and wishing with all her heart that the noise would stop, stumbled out of bed, and at length realized that (this being a hotel) there was a telephone on a nightstand beside the bed.
On the other side.
It had rung ten times, perhaps, when at last she picked up the handset and said a sleepy hello.
“It’s me, Cassie. Sharon. Sharon Bench. Remember me?”
“Yes.” Cassie yawned. “Yes, I do, Sharon. What do you want? I was asleep.”
“Sorry. But you made me a promise, Cassie. I checked my voice mail here at the office, and I checked my answering machine at home. I can dial into it.”
“Uh huh.”
“And you hadn
’t called. But you promised me you’d tell me the next time you dated Wallace Rosenquist. You were to let me know and tell me everything about it. And you didn’t.”
“That’s right.” Cassie yawned again. “I didn’t.”
“So tell me now! You owe me.”
“I didn’t date him. I haven’t even seen him.” She paused. “This is crazy.”
“What is?”
“I dreamed about him, and now it seems like you’re still in my dream. I’m awake — I know I am. I’m awake and looking around my room at the downtown Hyatt, but you’re stuck in my dream.”
There was a long pause. “Tell me about it, Cassie. If I’m in a dream I’d like to know what’s going on.”
“I was riding in this enormous white car. It was as long as a bus.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Wally’s head was in there, too, sitting in front of me. Just his head. He kept telling me he was going to make me a queen, and finally he handed me a long narrow box, sort of gold. I thought it was going to be a crown, Sharon. I did! It was going to be a crown, and I would wrap it around my head and fasten it in back. I opened it and there were a jillion huge diamonds in there.”
“Cassie? Are you sure you’re awake?”
“Of course I am.”
“I want you to do something for me. Will you please? I want you to stand up.”
“All right.” Cassie rose.
“You’re standing up?”
“Yes, but I’m going to sit down again in about one second.”
“Answer a couple of questions first. Did you go to the theater last night? Do the show?”
“Yes. Yes, I did. Five songs and three encores, and I just about danced my cute big feet off. No wonder I’m so tired.”
“Okay. How did you get back to your hotel?”
“I — ”
“Yeah? How?”
“Maybe I walked...”
“After dancing your feet off?” Even over the phone, Sharon sounded irritated.
“I guess I flagged a cab. That was it. I got a cab, and there was this nice driver who wanted to know how he could get tickets. I said I couldn’t help him, and he said if only he could get tickets he could sell them for four times the box office price. Then... No, that wasn’t last night...”
“I didn’t think so.”
“It’s hot in here, and the windows won’t open. Can you wait a minute while I turn up the air-conditioning?”
“Sure.”
Back at the phone Cassie said, “I think I remember it, but it’s crazy. How do you think I got back here?”
“Let me tell you why I called, Cassie. I’ve got a contact at your show. I can’t tell you who she is — I gave her my word I wouldn’t do that. But I do. I’ve done this person some little favors, and this person does me little favors now and then. Last night this person called and told me that when she left the theater Wallace Rosenquist’s limo was waiting outside. It had to be waiting for you.”
“It was,” Cassie said, “but Wally wasn’t in it. I didn’t date him, so I didn’t break my promise to you.”
“He wasn’t in there?”
“Nope. He’d just sent his driver. His driver’s name is Carlos.”
“That’s not exactly hot news.”
“I never said it was.” Thoroughly awake now, Cassie smiled. “Wally was just being nice. He sent his driver, and I got in and his driver took me back to the hotel and even walked me up to my room. I don’t know why I couldn’t remember that.”
“Neither do I.”
“Now I’m going back to bed, Sharon. Please don’t call again. Not this morning.”
They said good-bye and Cassie lay down once more, but did not sleep.
The telephone rang. She sat up — on the correct side of the bed this time — and lifted the handset. “Casey Answering Incorporated. What can we do for you?”
“This is Zelda, Cassie. Can you meet me for breakfast at nine?”
Cassie glanced at the clock radio. “No.”
“Nine fifteen? Please? I’m buying.”
“You’re buying? This is a dream. Got to be.”
“I’m buying. Nine fifteen in the coffee shop. Don’t be late.”
“Nine twenty,” Cassie said, but Zelda had already hung up.
After a moment’s hesitation, Cassie pushed the button for the hotel operator. “Please ring Margaret Briggs.”
Beyond the hotel window, the world had turned to gray while she slept. Once — no, twice — rain lashed the glass. Fall, and the show was nowhere near ready for New York.
“Margaret? I didn’t wake you up? I was afraid I would.”
“No, Miss Casey. I always get up at seven.”
“That’s great. Come here? Eleven oh nine. I’m sure you remember, and I’ll buy your breakfast after. No, I’ll make Zelda do it, but it’s the same thing.”
“I’ll be right there, Miss Casey.”
“Wait. Did you call Sharon Bench last night?”
“No, Miss Casey.”
“The truth, please. I won’t be mad, and it may be important? Did you?”
“No, Miss Casey. Honestly, I didn’t.”
“Thanks. Come as soon as you can. I have to get dressed in a tearing hurry, and we’re going to have to search this room before we go. I’ll start without you.”
“MARGARET is a genius,” Cassie said as she sat down. “She should be a detective. Margaret Marple. I didn’t think we’d find it at all, but she found it in about a minute and a half.”
Margaret stared down at her plate.
“Found what?” Zelda looked from one to the other.
“The bracelet from my dream. See, I dreamed about Wally last night. I dreamed he’d given me a bracelet.”
“You have to see it,” Margaret whispered to Zelda. “Miss Sinclair had nothing half as nice.”
“I want to.”
“Only when I woke up this morning,” Cassie continued, “I wasn’t exactly sure it was a dream. I felt like I’d had a box, not very big, and hidden it before I went to bed. And so — ”
Zelda rapped her water glass. “I didn’t think Wallace Rosenquist was here. India would have said something while we were negotiating the recording contract.”
“He isn’t. But I saw him last night in his car and he gave me this bracelet.”
“In your dream?”
“Right. Only when Carlos took me back to my room, I put on all the locks — the security bar and everything — and hid the bracelet box.”
“You ought to get a thing at the bank, Miss Casey. A safety deposit.”
“I will, only back home. Not here.”
“That fits perfectly.” Zelda nodded to herself. “Thank you, Margaret.”
“Fits what?”
“In a minute. Here’s the waitress, and you haven’t even looked.”
Cassie glanced up. “Do you have buckwheat cakes?”
The waitress nodded, and Cassie ordered buckwheat pancakes with a side of bacon.
“I’ve been eating breakfast in here ever since we came,” Margaret told Zelda. “I don’t have to see a menu. Yogurt and fruit, please.”
Zelda ordered a Denver omelet. “Now tell me about the bracelet. No, don’t. Have you got it? You didn’t leave it up in your room, I hope.”
“You do not get ten percent of my bracelet.” Cassie was firm.
“Swell, let me see it.”
“Not yet. Margaret came, and I told her I thought Wally’d given me another bracelet and I’d hidden it. She said what about the safe? I didn’t remember there was a safe in the closet — that’s where I’m going to put it — until she said that. So I said probably not, because I’d forgotten about it, but she wanted to look.”
“The numbers were scrambled,” Margaret explained. “Mine was set to all zeros when I got here. That will open it until you reprogram it.”
“Mine was locked,” Cassie went on, “and Margaret wanted to know whether I’d changed the combination. I didn’t
know you could, so Margaret said I probably hadn’t. She turned the numbers zero-zero-zero-zero and it opened. There it was!”
“Hooray.” Zelda looked impatient and sounded the same way. “I wanna see the bracelet.”
“I’ll take it out of my purse,” Cassie began, “and hold my arm under — ”
The waitress returned bearing food, coffee, tea, and a program from Dating the Volcano God. “Would you sign this, Miss Casey? It’s for my boss.”
Cassie did.
“And could you sign my arm, too? I want to show it to people, and there’s a tattoo place down the street.”
IN Zelda’s rented car, Cassie asked, “Will your hopper hold us all? Three people? I’ve heard some of the little ones only seat two.”
“Yes and no.” Always a fast driver, Zelda was driving faster than usual. “It seats four, so it’ll certainly hold the three of us. Only Ebony’s coming and bringing a tenor for the duets. So that’ll be five if Margaret comes.”
“Margaret’s coming,” Cassie said firmly. “I want her there.”
“Let’s hear it from Margaret. Ever warped through hyperspace, Margaret?”
Margaret shook her head, and Cassie said, “She can’t see you there in back. You’ll have to speak up.”
“No, I haven’t, Ms. Youmans.”
“Scared?”
“No, Ms. Youmans.” Margaret looked frightened.
“I was the first time, too. The saleswoman took me up for a test run, and I was scared to pieces. She talked me through it a dozen times, and after the third one I saw it was a piece of cake.”
Cassie said, “Ebony won’t take up much room. She’s as thin as a soda straw.”
“Bucket seats, so it doesn’t matter. Only there’s cargo space in back. You know. The tenor can sit back there.”
The airport was small. Ebony and the new tenor were waiting in the lounge, and looked at least as rain-soaked as Cassie felt. Ebony said, “This is Gil Corby. Gil, this is Cassie Casey, our star. She’s the one you’ll be singing with.”
They shook hands while Corby stared at Cassie’s new bracelet. Afterward, Cassie studied Corby’s rain-washed face while he met Zelda and Margaret.