by Gene Wolfe
SELLING the bracelet took far longer than Cassie had anticipated; but when the sale was final at last, she found herself (as an awed manager at Barclays informed her) the wealthiest woman in the state. At which point it was time for another call. She entered a number she had gotten from Directory Assistance the day before.
“Klauser residence.”
“May I speak to Mr. Klauser?”
“I’m afraid not. He’s sleeping right now.” (A reedy voice in the background protested.)
“Will you tell him I called? My name’s Fiona Casey, and I was a friend of...” Something seemed to have taken Cassie by the throat. “Of the late William Reis. Please explain that I’m going to Woldercan, and I want very much to speak with Mr. Klauser before I leave.”
“Wait a moment.”
There was a long silence, during which Cassie smiled to herself and stared out her kitchen window. The sky was blue, and the steep roofs and sometimes ornate chimney pots of the old buildings in this part of town were a pleasant reminder of Kingsport’s colonial origins.
“Ms. Casey?”
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“Mr. Klauser is anxious to meet you. He, ah — ” The speaker’s voice sank to a whisper. “He isn’t at all well. Please don’t tire him.”
“I’ll try not to,” Cassie said, resolving to tire him if necessary. “What would be a good time?”
“He lunches at eleven thirty. After that he must rest for at least two hours. I would say — ah — three. Would that suit you?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow about three. A friend of mine...” (this was stretching it, but Cassie stretched) “told me you were in Myersville. I know that must be right because it’s where Directory Assistance found you. Are you in town?”
“Oh, yes. Eleven fourteen Bushong Boulevard. The cross street is Taylor.”
Cassie scribbled on a paper napkin.
“You’ll have no trouble finding it. It’s the big white house on the corner.”
SO it was. Cassie rang the bell and told a short, stout woman with a hard, dark face that she had come to see Mr. Klauser.
“He don’t see people.”
Thankful for her sensible shoes, Cassie put her foot in the door. “I have an appointment. Three o’clock this afternoon.”
“He don’t see nobody.”
“He’ll see me,” Cassie said, and pushed.
“¡Fuera!”
“Phooey yourself!” Cassie pushed harder.
Something banged and clattered inside, and the short, stout woman gave up. The door opened, and Cassie saw an elderly man in a wheelchair. He appeared to be preparing to throw a fork.
“Mr. Klauser? I’m Fiona Casey.”
“I know who you are.” It was the reedy voice she had heard. “Let her in, Maria.”
Cassie advanced, stepping over a plate that had held eggs and around an overturned tray. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. Klauser. You were Bill’s best friend. He didn’t have many, but he thought the world of you.”
Klauser accepted the hand she offered. His own was thin and felt pitifully weak. “Push me into the living room, please. Maria will clean this up.”
Cassie got behind the chair and pushed, steering around an overturned coffee mug. “I made an appointment, Mr. Klauser. With another lady. I really did.”
“That was Roxane. Told you to come at three?”
“Yes. She did.” It was a large living room with a high ceiling and a light coating of dust on every level surface.
“Nasty trick,” Klauser muttered. “She gets off at two.”
Recalling the tray, Cassie said, “I was told you’d be through with lunch.”
“Roxane cooks what the doctor orders. Maria cooks what I tell her to. Besides, she’s a better cook.”
“Did you really throw that tray to make her let me in?”
“Ha! Of course I did. Only way to get her attention. Over there, if you please, so I can see the big maple. You won’t mind having your back to the light, Miss Casey?”
She positioned his chair. “Not at all.”
Her own was large and comfortable without being soft. “I like this,” she said.
“So did I. I got it in Russia and had it shipped back.” For a moment Klauser looked so sad that Cassie wanted to hug him. “I’m afraid it’s a long story. You wouldn’t want to hear it, and I don’t want to tell it. Cassiopeia mourns for her children.”
Cassie nodded. “That’s right. She does.”
“You weren’t disconcerted by the change in subject.”
She shrugged. “Neither were you.”
“Bill Reis was planning to marry a young woman named Cassiopeia Casey. I got a wedding invitation, the usual thing. You stuck it in the computer and saw pictures of them smooching. She was a luscious redhead. About your height.”
Cassie said, “A little taller.”
“Half an inch I would allow. Are you her mother?”
“No. I — I’m a relative. I would prefer not to go into our relationship.”
“Meaning?”
Cassie smiled. “Meaning I’d lie, and I don’t want to lie to you, Mr. Klauser.”
“I was Ambassador Klauser once.”
“You’re right, Ambassador. I should have been calling you that. I apologize.”
“Don’t worry, I understand, and I understand about the anticloning laws. Is Bill dead?”
Cassie nodded.
“Is that just what you’ve been told, or are you certain?”
“I had to call his son and tell him.” Cassie gulped. “Please don’t make me cry.”
“You liked Bill?”
She nodded again. “I liked him a lot.”
“What about the Casey girl? The one Bill was going to marry?”
“She’s gone, too.” Cassie hesitated. “She’s passed away, but I’m hoping to bring her back.”
“I believe I understand that as well. You won’t want to say anything more about it. What would you like to talk about? Why did you come up here? I assume you came up from Washington.”
“From Oakland. That’s not where I live — not where I’m living now.” Cassie glanced at her watch. “I left Oakland two hours ago.”
Klauser nodded. “You’ve got a hopper.”
“I do. Yes.”
“And you’re planning to hop to Woldercan.”
“That’s right. I want to leave as soon as possible, but first I’ll have to hop home to Kingsport and buy the things you’re going to tell me I ought to take with me.”
Klauser’s brow wrinkled. “I’m no hopper expert...”
“Neither am I, Ambassador.”
“And I can’t tell you exactly how far it is, because I’m not an astronomer, either. Just that the distance is enormous. Inconceivable.”
“I know.”
“A few government hoppers can make the trip. A few of the biggest. Not many.”
“I know that, too, Ambassador. It’s how Dr. Chase got there.”
“Chase?” Klauser’s eyes narrowed. “Are you talking about Bob Chase? Our first ambassador? I replaced him, Miss Casey, and he’s been dead for years.”
Cassie shook her head. “His son has been appointed ambassador, Ambassador Klauser.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“I remember him. Just a little fellow, but those eyes...”
“I know what you mean.”
“Tell me something honestly, Miss Casey. No lies. Promise?”
She smiled. “Promise. Honest Injun.”
“Is this some kind of nepotism?”
“Absolutely not. I know Dr. Chase quite well, Ambassador. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. Do you know him? At all?”
“I don’t. I haven’t seen him since he was a small boy.”
“If you did, you’d know that he wears a watch but never looks at it. He always knows what time it is.”
Slowly, Klauser nodded. “I can believe that.”
�
��It’s the truth. This is the truth, too. He knows a great deal about Woldercan. He’s studied it for years, and of course he has childhood memories. He’s a very able man, Ambassador. Ask around, and you’ll hear that over and over.”
“As able as Bill? Forget I said that. Old men are foolish, Miss Casey.”
“So are women.” Cassie fumbled in her purse for her handkerchief.
“Here. Take these.” Klauser tossed a packet of tissues into her lap.
“I c-can’t.” She tried to pass them back. “You must n-need them.”
“Try to understand, Miss Casey.” Klauser coughed. “Giving you those may be the last chivalrous act of my life, and I need one. I need a last chivalrous act far more than I need half a dozen paper handkerchiefs.” He waited for her to speak. “I want anchovy toast. I didn’t get to finish my eggs. Would you like something? Coffee? A drink?”
“Hot tea.” Cassie smiled through her tears.
“I’d love some hot tea, Ambassador.”
Klauser bawled for Maria to bring anchovy toast and two teas.
“May I tell you about my hopper, Ambassador? I’d love to show it to you, but you’d have to go out to the airport. It’s a Jimmy Galactic. Have you ever heard of those?”
“No. I’m afraid I don’t know much about hoppers.”
“It’s the biggest they make. The man who sold me mine said celebrities buy them so they can hop to places where they can’t be followed.” Cassie paused. “Mine is Lincoln green, and really beautiful. It’s seventy feet long and twenty-five feet high. Twenty-five — no, thirty. It’s thirty feet wide. I’m not good at remembering numbers, but I do remember those. It can go to Woldercan. The onboard computer told me — her name’s Aquilia. Don’t you think that’s lovely?”
Klauser smiled. “For one who soars like the eagle. Yes, I do.”
“It will take a lot of hops, but Aquilia says we can do it. I forget how many, but a lot. Twenty-something. I’ve bought the fuel rods. I still have to send Dr. Chase an ethermail to tell him I’m coming.”
“What if he doesn’t want you to, Miss Casey?”
“He does. I had an ethermail from him before I bought my hopper. It’s just that I think his ethermail must be a reply to the one I’m going to send him today. Do you know about that?”
Klauser shook his head. “Nobody really knows about it.”
“I suppose. Anyway, Dr. Chase told me once. If I don’t send mine, his will have to be accounted for in some other way and it’s liable to get complicated. So I’ll send mine so I don’t have to worry.”
As Maria came in with tea and toast, Klauser murmured, “The distinctions we draw between past, present, and future are discriminations among illusions.”
“Really?” Cassie’s eyebrows shot up. “It sounds crazy.”
“Albert Einstein said that, and Einstein wasn’t crazy. Nor was he joking, Miss Casey. For us, the illusions seem terribly real. The robin another robin fights in a clean window seems terribly real to him, too.” Klauser accepted a cup half filled with steaming tea, to which Maria added sugar substitute.
“I can pour for myself,” Cassie told her, and watched with satisfaction as Maria left.
“It isn’t that she doesn’t like you,” Klauser said. “She’s just trying to do her duty.”
“Which would have included pouring hot tea in my lap. What should I take to Woldercan?”
“Women,” Klauser said slowly, “have monthly needs. You could use rags, and our great-great-grandmothers did, but if you would prefer not to...”
“I — well, I take a certain medicine. I don’t need tampons.”
“In that case, you should bring along a supply of the medicine. There’ll be a doctor at the embassy, and he’ll probably give you some if he has it.”
“Then again he might not. And he might not have any. I understand.” Cassie took a pen and pad from her purse and jotted a note. “A friend of mine’s a reporter. She tapes interviews, but she carries these, too. I’m starting to understand why.”
“I won’t talk about clothing. You’ll take too much, women always do. Take two warm dresses and one warm coat. The rest can be light stuff.”
She made another note.
“You can eat the same things the Wolders eat, and you’d better do that and learn to like it. You can’t possibly bring along enough food for a long stay. Are you staying long?”
“I hope so.”
“Then learn to eat their food. The things that look like worms aren’t worms, by the way. Have you ever eaten spaghetti squash?”
Cassie shook her head. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
“Too bad. The wormy things are vegetable, just like spaghetti squash. I like stinky cheese.”
“So do I.”
“Good! That will help. A lot of the food smells bad but tastes good. What weapons are you planning on taking?”
Cassie blinked. “You know, I hadn’t even thought of that. I used to carry a little automatic...”
“If it’s still in a drawer somewhere, get it out and have a gunsmith check it over.”
“It’s gone. I — I shot a man. Does that bother you? This was during the storm, when — when...”
“When people we won’t name died. It was on vid. The storm, I mean, not the people. Those tissues are next to the tea tray. Did you shoot my friend?”
“Bill?” Cassie fumbled for the tissues. “Good gosh no! Bill was already d-dead.”
“Self-defense?”
“Yes. Yes, it was, Ambassador. But — but if I told you what he wanted me to do you’d think that I was crazy, and he’d have killed me if I wouldn’t do it.”
“None of my business. I shouldn’t have asked. Get another gun. You’ll get two, if you’re smart. Two guns that use the same ammunition. You won’t need a lot. Two hundred rounds will probably be enough.”
“The Wolders look like we do, don’t they? I’ve seen some on vid.”
“They do if you don’t look too closely.” Klauser nibbled a triangle of anchovy toast. “Frankly, they’ll be the least of your worries. They... well, sometimes they try to seduce human women.”
“But not women my age. Or women as homely as I am.”
“You’re not, Miss Casey, although you may think so. Have you always been so thin?”
She shook her head. “I used to be quite fat. A very nice man described me as luscious once, but women thought I was fat. I’m a woman myself, so I did, too. Then I nearly starved after the storm. I’ve been trying to stay thin.”
Klauser snorted. “I wish you bad luck with it. Your genes will control your weight, unless you get as sick as I am or starve. I...”
“What is it?”
“I just thought of something, that’s all. Will you accept a gift from me, Miss Casey? A knickknack to remind you of me? It will do you no harm and please an old man mightily.”
“Of course I will, Ambassador. Thank you.”
“Take it to Woldercan. I’d like that. It won’t take up much space and it doesn’t weigh much, so bring it along. Please.”
Klauser drew breath. “Maria! Come here!”
Maria came, Klauser whispered urgently to her, and she left. “She’ll wrap it for you. Wrap it as a gift, which it is. You can open it when you get back home.”
“I promise not to peek.”
“Good.” Klauser coughed. “I’ve been talking about what you ought to take. That’s what you asked about, and I’ve done my best to stick with it. How you act, where you go and where you don’t... Those are a lot more important. May I talk about those?”
Cassie said, “I think you’d better.”
“Try the anchovy toast. Half is for you.”
Reluctantly, she picked up a triangle of toast. “I eat breakfast at a little place called the International House of Toast most mornings. I remember seeing this on the menu.”
“You should’ve tried it. Before we get into behavior, I ought to mention that the laws of physics aren’t exactly the sa
me on Woldercan.”
Cassie nodded. “A thing I read on the net said that, too. It won’t bother me. I don’t know what the laws are here.”
“We used to believe they’d be the same everywhere.” Klauser paused, and for a moment he seemed to be looking far away. “That seems terribly naive these days.”
Cassie waited, and he said, “It can throw you off if you go up or down stairs fast. Take it slow until you’re used to things.”
“All right, I will.”
“Don’t go into the forests. No ifs, ands, or buts. Don’t go. Don’t even get close to one.”
Popping the last of the triangle into her mouth, Cassie made a note.
“If you absolutely have to go, take a couple of old hands with you. At least two. More would be better.”
“Got it.”
“There are some pretty awful things in those forests, and from time to time they come out. That’s why I advised you to bring two guns.”
“I will.” Cassie selected another triangle.
“Fine.” Klauser hesitated. “The Wolders sometime hybridize with lower animals. The results can be, well, nightmarish.”
Cassie nodded.
“If you go fishing don’t talk to any fish you catch. That’s very dangerous. Release them immediately or kill them immediately. One or the other. Don’t go fishing without an experienced companion. How do you like anchovy toast?”
“I like it a lot,” Cassie told him. “It makes me think of a time when I was the green goddess.”
KLAUSER’S gift was small, flat, and light. Cassie packed it, and did not open it until the engines were recharging after the fifth hop and she was getting ready for bed. Opened, it proved to be a picture. A younger William Reis than she had ever seen stood next to an older man of about the same height who must have weighed at least three hundred pounds.
When she tapped Reis’s image with her fingernail, he said, “I’m Bill Reis, the new ambassador to Woldercan, and I’d like to thank Ambassador Klauser for teaching me a great deal I needed to know, and for all the kindness and hospitality he and his family have shown my wife and me.”