by Gene Wolfe
The city was the god, the god the city. She entered into it as a man enters into a woman, triumphant in defeat.
They lay on white slabs all about her, his living dead. She wandered among them, changed by each, stronger in body and mind and less trusting of her strength, the storehouse of strange skills of language, murder, art, and love. She gloried in her strength and longed for the day when he would send her forth to rend his foe.
Long and long she waited; then the torture began. There remained in her, somewhere and somehow, the seed of humanity. A spore unseen but real; a thing that valued life in all its wild fantasies, standing awed before the slime mold and the butterfly. To root out that spore he broke her, scattering the bits from pole to pole.
Reassembling them in strange ways, scraped, washed, and cleaned. Broke her again, sifted the rubbish that remained for burning.
Until at last it came to her that if it continued she would come to hate him whom she had loved so briefly. And afterward that such hatred was proper, was right, was what he sought. Armed with the knowing, she rebelled. She would not hate him, though she wiped him from the world.
This was her first case, for which all the others, the skips and the shoplifters, the frauds, the cheaters, and the missing heir had been mere practice.
No, entertainment. Busywork...
Once she had made chains of colored paper, snipping out each link with clumsy, careful scissors, welding each closed with fubsy fingers that knew but little of tape and nothing of chains.
She escaped — or was rejected. Too dead to drown, she was cast up by the surf and nibbled by sea-green crabs that scuttled away when the footfalls sounded.
A man as large as any wrestler rolled her over. He might have had her there, there on the strand. So she thought and prepared herself to be violated, promising him that she was no longer sea-chilled but warmed now by the sun, sun-warmed and dead and welcoming his love. Surely there were those who spent their seed in the dead, who caressed cadavers such as she and struck them afterward in the corruption of their love?
He was not of their number. He took her in his arms, cradling her as he might have cradled a child, and carried her to the tiny cemetery behind the infirmary, went inside and told a nurse that he had found a body, a haole wahine, a white woman, dead.
The nurse had gone to look at her and had him carry her into an examination room. There she had lain faceup, salt water trickling from nostrils white as snow, as though the snow melted under the bright lights, melted in the cool air of the infirmary as it had in the warm sunlight of the beach.
There Dr. Schoonveld had tried this and that, a mask that breathed deep for her who did not breathe, stimulants injected directly into the heart muscles, shock.
He declared her dead and returned her to the cemetery, where she had vomited salt water, groaned, and wept for the grave this vomiting, these groans, denied her.
CASSIE started, and found herself alone and trembling, staring down at the dead woman who had...
Clasped her hands, if it had not been a dream. She shook herself and shivered, suddenly lonely for the strong arms that had held her through the night, for the furry hands of winged friends who grasped strange knowledge.
The arm of the woman who lay before her was limp. The wrist held no pulse save for one single weak beat that was almost certainly a mistake, a blunder by the stupid Cassie Casey she had tried so hard to forget, by the silly stagestruck woman who knew less of medicine than any drugstore clerk.
That stupid Cassie Casey who was in fact herself and no queen at all. She found Dr. Schoonveld and told him his patient was dead, had been dead when she came into the room, although her hands had been clasped by that same dead patient, whose name was Pat Gomez.
CASSIE herself left his infirmary and stood staring up for a long minute at the Navy hopper that cruised grayly against the high blue vault, aerodynamically impossible, bristling with guns and antennae, yet flying as it seemed without effort.
Were they looking for her?
No, King Kanoa had said they were looking for Reis’s gold, but would not find it. After a time she was joined by Hiapo, whom she sent looking for Reis.
After a still longer time, she was joined by the Japanese nurse, who feared she might be ill.
“No, I’m just trying to get over finding Pat Gomez dead. That was a jolt.”
“You know her?” The Japanese nurse smiled politely. “Doctor, he say the king say it was her name.”
“No,” Cassie said. Then, “Yes. Yes I suppose I did know her. I played her for a while.”
A STROLL ON THE BEACH
“I know you love me,” Cassie told Reis, “and gosh knows I love you. I know you’re busy, too.”
Reis nodded.
“So what I’m asking for is a big gift, but I’m going to ask for it anyway. I want some time alone with you. Now. Two or more hours at least. Three might be better. I’ve got questions, and I think it’s time we really got to know each other. Can I have it, Bill? Please?”
“Yes.” He glanced at his watch. “Starting this minute if you like. I’m flattered. I hope you know that.”
“I don’t believe it, but I sure would like to. I want us to take a walk together. Down there on the beach would be too dangerous, wouldn’t it?”
“The beach here in front of the palace would, yes. Absolutely. What about another beach, would that do if it’s a nice one?”
Cassie nodded. “It might be better.”
“In that case, there’s no problem.” Reis spoke into his watch; half a minute later, a hopper popped into being far above them. As he turned off the cell phone function, he said, “Our beach is watched, I’m sure of it. Not by the Storm King himself but by his worshippers. Luckily for us, there are thousands of islands in this part of the Pacific. They can’t possibly watch them all, so they don’t.”
“WHERE are we?” Cassie asked as the hopper rose and boomed into nothing above them.
Reis smiled. “Let’s not be overly specific. We’re outside the Takanga Group. This could be Tuvalu or the Solomons, or a lot of other places. We’ll be a little bit safer if I don’t say it, perhaps. If you want the name of this particular island, I don’t know it and it may not have one. It’s uninhabited as far as we know.”
“Except for the volcano.”
Reis’s smile widened. “Yes. Except for that. I’m glad you remember.”
“So am I. Did you write that show, Bill?”
“Yes, with a collaborator. I knew what show I wanted and he knew how shows ought to work. I suppose I ought to say I sweated blood over it, but it was fun. I enjoyed it. I didn’t compose the music, you understand. For the most part I sketched out the plot and told my collaborator what ought to happen in various scenes. Are we going to walk along the beach?”
Cassie said, “I hope so. That’s what I wanted.”
“In that case I’ll take off my shoes.” Reis found a shady spot beneath a palm tree and sat.
Nodding, Cassie sat beside him. Her canvas sandals were off in a moment. They kissed, and when both his shoes stood beside hers, they kissed again.
She rose. “Want a hand up?”
“Not particularly.” He grinned. “But I know you want to talk. So do I. What is it you want from life, Cassie?”
“That’s a big one. All right if I think about it?”
Reis nodded.
“What is it you want, Bill? I know you must have thought about the answer before you asked me.”
“You’re right. I have.” He stood. “Everybody dies, Cassie.”
“Sure.”
“I wish it weren’t like that. But even if we didn’t age, we’d die anyway, sooner or later. Accident, disease, suicide, war, murder... Something would get us.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’d have two hundred and fifty years, perhaps. Some would. Three hundred at most.” Reis drew a deep breath. “So here’s what I want. I want to be a very powerful man, and I want to use that power for good. A
lot of people think I’m a bad man.”
Cassie nodded, remembering. “Dr. Chase certainly seemed to think so.”
“The rich are his clients. Rich people, governments — they’re all rich, never let anybody tell you different — and rich corporations. Nobody else can afford his fees. He takes the money and does what they want. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it isn’t. He’s a wizard. I’ll give him that. I’ve got him on my team now, and I’m damned glad to have him.”
“Do you trust him?”
Reis shook his head. “I trust very, very few people, and Gideon Chase isn’t one of them. You can never trust a wizard, my darling. They know too much and they’re too complicated.”
“I trusted him.” She began to walk.
He followed her, keeping his steps small and slow to match her speed. “You’re a trusting woman, and I love you for it. That doesn’t mean I’d put you in an executive position. I wouldn’t. It’s not what you’re cut out for.”
“I know...”
The sea was blue and gentle. She found a dried starfish, examined it, and tossed it back into the water. “I’ve been thinking about what I want.”
He nodded. His face serious. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Pretty soon, I think. You disappear. Want to say you don’t?”
He shook his head.
“That’s good. I watched you do it in Springfield. I asked Dr. Chase after that, and he said yes. You could do it, but he couldn’t.”
Reis said, “Then it seems he told you the truth. May I show you something?”
“Yes, if you want to.”
“Watch me. Look hard.” She did, and he vanished. Unseen, his hand touched hers. “I’m still here.”
“Yes.” She was smiling.
“And you’re still beautiful. Now look behind us.”
She turned, and saw their shadows paint a romantic silhouette on the sand, a big man clasping the hand of a smaller woman.
“As a general thing,” he said conversationally, “I try to stay clear of sunshine when I do this. Of bright light from any single source.”
He was visible again, and she rose on tiptoe to kiss him.
When that kiss ended, another began.
At last they separated. “You make gold, too, Wally. Is it all right if I call you Wally sometimes?”
He nodded. “The gold made you think of that first bracelet. I understand.”
“I guess it did. We’ve already talked a little about the gold. Radioactive gold.”
“We have.”
“And vanishing. So you’re a wizard, too.”
He chuckled. “I suppose I am. I’ve been called a financial wizard often enough. I should have thought of that.”
“You told me once that you could be trusted. You said your word was always good.”
“Did I? I probably did. Certainly it’s true.”
“Do you love me, Wally?”
“Yes. As I’ve never loved anyone else.” He sighed. “I only wish you loved me as much as I love you.”
“I want to. Because that’s what I want from life. Remember asking me? I want love. It’s why I liked doing Dating the Volcano God so much. I could get out there onstage and be Mariah Brownlea, and the whole audience loved me. It’s why I married two pretty terrible men, because I thought they loved me. They said they did, and I believed it. When I found out Scott didn’t — and Herbie not enough — I dumped them.”
“I don’t want to be dumped. Do you believe me, Cassie?”
“Sometimes, but there are things that bother me.”
“The gold, of course. Do you know the dragon legend? How dragons hoard gold, amassing more and more? Sleeping on a bed of gold?”
“I saw a vid about that once.”
Reis nodded. “I called it a legend because that’s what everybody calls it. It isn’t really a legend at all. There are dragons, Cassie. Real dragons.”
She stared out to sea, then turned back to him. “A year ago I wouldn’t have believed you. Now...”
“You don’t know.”
“Right. Dr. Chase took me to a place called the Silent Woman. Have you ever been there?”
Reis shook his head.
“It was a storybook kind of place, but they had good food.”
He smiled. “They often do in storybooks.”
“I suppose. Anyway, I told him they ought to serve dragon’s eggs, and Dr. Chase said they couldn’t, eating dragon’s eggs would kill you. He talked like there really were dragons. Both of you do.”
“Because there are. Some are human beings, Cassie. Some aren’t. The Storm King is a dragon in the sense I mean, and one of the worst. A dragon, and not remotely human. May I tell you about my gold?”
“I wish you would.”
“I sell it in small bars, little bars that you could put in your purse. They weigh about as much as a bag of groceries. Gold’s heavy stuff.”
“I know that bracelet was.”
“You’re right. My customer may buy only one. Or a hundred. If he buys a lot, he gets it delivered in dribs and drabs, one or two little bars at a time.”
“King Kanoa said something about that.”
“Kandy? Yes, he knows. Sometimes my customer is a dragon who hoards it all. If he isn’t, it will fall into the hands of a dragon sooner or later. Most of it, if not all of it. They keep it together and they keep it near them, because they’re afraid it may be stolen.”
“I — see.”
For a time they walked together in silence, looking out to sea, or up at the towering peak of the volcano, or just along the beach, an utterly deserted beach of white coral sand.
“People lived here once,” Cassie said at last.
“How do you know?”
“My eyes keep looking for footprints in the sand.”
“Have you seen any?”
She shook her head. “Only ours. But I wouldn’t look for them if I didn’t know, down deep, that there had been people here.”
“You may have seen the blocks without really noticing them.”
“What blocks?” She had stopped, and turned to face him.
“Squared blocks of coral back in the jungle. I saw them when I stopped to take off my shoes. Someone built something here once, even if there’s nobody here now.”
“Don’t be mad, Wally. Please don’t. But would it be all right if we go back so I can look at them?”
“Of course it is. This is your walk.”
His watch chimed; he answered it, saying mostly yes and no. Once he said, “Go ahead,” and once he chuckled.
When he had hung up, Cassie said, “I think my walk’s almost over, and I haven’t even gotten to the important stuff. So I’m going to bring it up right now. Pat Gomez is dead. Do you know who she was?”
“I do. I got her killed, though I didn’t intend to. What do you know about her?”
“Only that she was working for you, and that she went down to the Storm King’s city. They must’ve done horrible things to her there, because it seemed like she was crazy.”
“You talked to her?”
Cassie ignored the question. “I liked her, and she died while I was there with her in her room.”
“I can’t say that I liked her,” Reis said, “but then I only saw her twice. Before she was dumped on our beach, I mean. She seemed competent, and I didn’t think they were likely to suspect she was a plant. That was what I wanted, so I hired her. She was an operative with a little agency in Oakland. She was supposed to join the Storm King’s cult in San Francisco and tell us who belonged to it and what they were planning. She did it for about six weeks. After that she dropped out of sight. The agency didn’t know what had become of her and neither did I.”
“I asked Dr. Schoonveld how they bury people here. It’s pretty simple. No embalming. They just wrap them in plastic and bury them in a hole in the sand.”
Reis nodded. “For us, yes, though not many of us die here. Kandy’s people have their own customs, and we turn the
ir bodies over to their relatives.”
For a handful of seconds it seemed to Cassie that the palms, restless as they always were in the trade wind, were whispering to her: dark secrets she had no desire to hear. “You make sure they’re dead?”
“The doctor does, yes. You said she died while you were with her.”
Cassie managed to smile. “That’s true, Wally, but I’m not really a nurse. I just play one sometimes.”
He smiled in return.
“Hiapo found the man who had found her body for me, and brought him to me. He was sure she was dead when he picked her up. So was she...”
Reis put his arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “This is just making you unhappy, and I hate seeing you unhappy. What would you like me to do?”
“I don’t know!”
“Then let’s talk about something else. Isn’t there anything else you’d like to talk about?”
“In the meeting — oh, Wally, I hate to say this.”
“The meeting today? That was when you said you wanted some time alone with me.”
“Right.” Cassie forced herself to stand straight. “The Storm King sent that awful woman, Wally. Sent her to try to make me hand you over to them.”
“Go on.”
“And I felt sure you’d be angry. But in the meeting, right at the beginning, you promised King Kanoa that you wouldn’t do anything about it.”
Reis shook his head. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“Yes you — ”
He raised his hand. “I did not, Cassie. I know what I said, even if you don’t. I promised Kandy I wouldn’t attack the city with depth charges. That was what he was afraid I was planning to do. Think back and you’ll find that I’m correct.”
“It’s the same thing!”
“No. It really isn’t. Still, you’re right in one way. I’m not attacking it. Or him. Not attacking isn’t the same as doing nothing. Have you ever offended gypsies?”
She stared. “I don’t even know any.”
“Neither do I, but a man who works for me got some gypsies seriously angry at him. They put stolen goods in the trunk of his car and phoned the police.”