Judd took his father’s hand and, still holding it, tried to keep a lightness in his voice. “Have I grown too old to kiss my father hello?”
Suddenly his father embraced him and kissed his cheek. “Never too old, I hope,” he said.
Judd returned his father’s kiss. “That’s better,” he smiled. “I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.”
“That’s silly,” his father said. “I love you, my son.”
“I love you, Father.”
His father stepped back. “At first I thought we’d have lunch at ‘21’, but then I thought it might be better if we had lunch at the office. We haven’t talked for a long time and we’ll be more private here.”
“The office sounds good to me.”
“Hungry?”
Judd smiled. “I’m always hungry.”
His father pressed a button on the desk. A set of sliding doors opened and a small dining room with a round table appeared, large enough for eight but at this time only set for two. He turned to the switch at the interphone. “We’re ready for lunch,” he spoke into it.
He turned to Judd. “I’m having a Scotch and water. How about you?”
“Make it two,” Judd said, following his father into the dining room.
A small black man in black tie came through another door into the dining room. “Mr. Crane?”
“Two usuals, Fast Eddie,” Judd’s father said.
The thin little man lived up to his name. The two drinks were brought from the small bar almost before they had been requested. “Fast Eddie, this is my son, Judd,” his father said, taking his drink.
Fast Eddie handed Judd his drink. “My pleasure, Mr. Crane.”
“Thank you,” Judd said. He watched Fast Eddie disappear through the dining room door. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” his father said.
They sipped their drinks. “How long has Fast Eddie been working for you, Father?” Judd asked.
“About three months. He’s old Roscoe’s grandson. Roscoe has been training him for two years. The kid’s very good. It’s hard to believe that he just turned eighteen.”
“He seems nice.”
“He’s like his grandfather,” his father said. “He’s always there.” His father sat down at the table. He looked at Judd opposite him. “Surprised that I called?”
Judd nodded.
“We have a lot to talk about.” His father hesitated a moment. “Like the man said, ‘Which do we talk about first? The good news or the bad news?’”
“Whatever you think best, Father.”
“Then the good news first. I’ve been alone since your mother passed away fifteen years ago. Sure, there have been women, but that was something else. Now, I’m getting married. And I think you’ll like her too.”
Judd looked at him. “If you like her, Father, that’s all that’s important. I’ll be happy for you.”
His father smiled. “You haven’t even asked her name.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Barbara.”
Judd’s voice filled with astonishment. “Miss Barrett?”
His father laughed. “Is that such a surprise?”
“Yes,” Judd said, smiling. “But a good one. In some ways I don’t understand why you didn’t marry her sooner. It’s like she has always been a part of the family. May I go inside to tell her how happy I am for both of you?”
“She’ll join us at lunch in just a minute,” his father said.
“When are you getting married?”
“Six o’clock this afternoon,” his father answered. “Judge Gitlin is performing the ceremony at our apartment.”
“I know Uncle Paul,” Judd laughed. “I’d better hurry to get a black tie.”
“It’s not that important. Just a few of our close friends.” Then his father’s smile turned serious. “Now the bad news.”
Judd was silent.
“I have Hodgkin’s disease,” his father said.
“I don’t know what that is,” Judd said.
“It’s a kind of cancer of the blood.” His father waited a moment, then added, “It could be worse, however. The doctors tell me I can still have five or six years in reasonable comfort, and who knows what they may discover in that time? They may turn up a cure anytime.”
Judd was silent. He took a deep breath, holding back his tears. “I hope so. No, I’m sure they’ll find a cure.”
“And if they don’t,” his father said, “I won’t complain. I still would have had a good life.”
Judd was silent, looking into his father’s eyes.
“I’m not afraid of death,” his father said softly. “Death and immortality have always been very much the same to me.”
4
The Jeep with the customs officers led the limousine through the air-cargo gates to the field. They followed the road in front of a long row of warehouses past the commercial planes parked at the far end to where the field was reserved for military aircraft. The midnight blue B-747 seemed like a giant queen bee standing beside the cluster of tiny Yugoslavian fighter planes around it.
Judd stepped out of the limo and held his hand to Sofia. She looked up at the plane. The white insignia of the whooping crane—its wings outstretched as it lifted into the air, and followed by the words CRANE INDUSTRIES—was clear in the light from the airport windows. A painted American flag was under the pilot’s window and an even larger one stretched across the giant rudder.
She looked at Judd. “I’ve never seen a jumbo plane except in a film,” she said. “That one had a big staircase to it.”
Judd smiled. “Usually it’s rolled over to the plane if they aren’t parked at airports that have moving ramps. But this one’s special. It’s been built to my specifications.”
The customs officers came to them. “If you would be kind enough to give us your passports, we’ll stamp them,” one of them said.
Judd handed his passport from his jacket pocket and Sofia took her own from a purse. The customs officer walked back to the jeep and looked at the passports under a flashlight.
The chauffeur brought three valises from the car trunk. One was made of aluminum. He placed them beside her. At the same moment, an elevator supported by stainless steel rods descended from the wheel bay with two uniformed men on it who came toward them.
Judd introduced them. “Sofia, this is Captain Peters and Chief Steward Raoul. Gentlemen, Dr. Ivancich.”
Captain Peters shook hands. “Welcome, Doctor.”
Raoul tipped his hat in a sort of salute. “And I welcome also, Madame Doctor.”
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Sofia replied.
One of the customs officers returned. “The passports are in order. But we have to inspect Dr. Ivancich’s baggage unless we receive a special export license for her medical equipment.”
Her voice sounded annoyed as she spoke quickly in Serbian. The officer spoke apologetically, his hands expressive. She turned to Judd. “I’ll have to go back to their office,” she explained. “They’re like all bureaucrats. The export license was supposed to be ready. But, as usual—”
Captain Peters turned to her. “I’ll go back with you, Doctor. I have to get the flight plan approved anyway.”
“Take the limo,” Judd said. “I’ll meet you on board.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No problem,” Judd said. “It’s just the usual fuckup.”
The customs officers took her valises to their jeep and the limo followed them away. Judd walked to the elevator as Raoul joined him and pressed the button. They went up past the wheel bay, then the galley floor, and up to the main cabin floor.
“Put the doctor in the first guest stateroom,” Judd told the steward.
“Yes, Mr. Crane.”
Judd walked to the flight deck staircase, behind which his personal cabin was located. He turned back to the steward. “Could you ask Merlin to see me?”
“Right away, sir.”
Judd went up the steps and through the do
or that separated his cabin from the operating crew on the flight deck. Fast Eddie was waiting with an ice-cold Coca-Cola. Judd slipped off his jacket and picked up the drink. Merlin knocked at the door as Judd sipped his drink. Fast Eddie opened it.
“Yes, Mr. Crane,” Merlin said, his notebook in his hand.
“Dr. Ivancich, Sofia,” Judd said. Merlin was already making notes. “I want a security and computer check on her. Everything we can find out.” He quickly added everything Dr. Zabiski and Sofia had told him. “I don’t want any surprises.”
“Anything else, sir?” Merlin asked.
“Yes,” Judd asked. “Ask Doc Sawyer at Medical Research if he’s heard anything about work being done on human self-cell-cloning implantation.”
“We’ll get on it as soon as we take off, sir,” Merlin said.
Judd looked at Fast Eddie as Merlin left the cabin. “Ice up a bottle of Cristale,” he said, picking up the interphone and buzzing the chief steward. “When the doctor returns,” he said into it, “ask her if she would like to join me on the flight deck for takeoff.”
Fast Eddie already had the bottle of Cristale in the bucket, as well as the two iced champagne glasses on the stand next to his seat. Judd walked to the rear of the cabin to his bedroom and began to take off his shirt. “Get me a terry-cloth jumpsuit,” he said.
Fast Eddie opened one of the closets and took out the jumpsuit and laid it on the bed. Next to it he placed a pair of terry-cloth slippers and on the bed a French silk bikini. Judd went into the small shower stall in the bathroom, pressed the button that automatically mixed water and soap, then rinsed after the water cleared again. Steam lifted out of the stall automatically; he dried himself with an oversized towel. He dressed quickly and combed his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. Okay, he thought, but only okay. He still felt tired. And he didn’t like that. He had several things he had yet to do.
He pulled out a drawer and took out a gold vial and opened the cap, exposing a plastic bullet-type screw. He unscrewed the plastic top and a tiny opening appeared. He placed it in one nostril, squeezed the bottom of the vial, and the cocaine shot up as he snorted. He did it again with the other nostril. He felt the hit bring him up immediately. He threw the vial back in the drawer without closing it. He looked in the mirror again. He didn’t look so tired now. He smiled to himself. That’s one advantage of owning a chemical company of your own, he thought. You never have to worry about the street shit.
Fast Eddie was waiting in his cabin. He smiled. “Nothing like a hot shower and a snowstorm, boss,” he said. “You look better already.”
“You’re too fucking smart,” Judd smiled. “Are they on board yet?”
“Just coming on now, sir,” Fast Eddie said.
Judd picked up the telephone and called the chief steward. “Suggest to the doctor that she would be comfortable in one of the jumpsuits. I think a size eight might be okay.”
“I’ve already thought of it, sir,” Raoul said quietly. “But I left a size seven on the bunk. That’s more her fit.”
“I defer to the French couture,” Judd laughed, and put down the telephone.
***
The captain’s voice came over the address system. “All personnel secure. Takeoff in one minute.”
Judd looked at Sofia in the next seat. She was peering through the window. He felt the slight shudder as the big plane began to move. He glanced at her hands. They gripped at the arms of the seat. He was silent as they moved quickly on the ground and then, suddenly, softly, slipped into the air.
Her voice was low. “It seems almost like a house on wings.”
He laughed. “I guess it could be thought of as that.”
She looked down at the lights of Dubrovnik below. “How high are we?”
He pressed a button and a light went on in the cabin bulkhead in front of them. “About two kilometers,” he said. “We’re climbing up to twelve kilometers, about 38,000 feet, for our cruising altitude. At that time we’ll be flying at 580 miles per hour.”
The no smoking and seat belt lights went off. He snapped off the seat belt that crossed his chest and leaned over to help her. She hesitated a moment. He smiled. “It’s okay.”
She nodded and let him open the seat belt.
Fast Eddie came to them and placed a tray of caviar and toast on the table in front of her, then quickly filled up their glasses with champagne and disappeared from the cabin.
He held his glass to her. “Welcome to the friendly skies of America.”
“Down below that’s still Yugoslavia,” she said.
“But you’re not down there, are you?” he laughed.
“That’s right,” she smiled. She sipped the champagne. “Delicious.” She looked at the tray. “Is that really Russian caviar?”
He nodded.
“We can’t even get that in Yugoslavia,” she said.
He placed a spoonful of caviar on toast and handed it to her. “Détente,” he said, “has certain advantages.”
“I like that,” she said.
“So do I,” he said, helping himself.
“Do you have Russian vodka aboard too?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“May I have a drink?” she asked almost shyly. “Down there all I ever could get was slivovitz and that makes me sick.”
“You got it,” he said.
Fast Eddie brought a bottle crusted with ice from the freezer. He filled two glasses and left them next to the bottle on the tray as he disappeared.
She picked up the vodka, looked at him for a moment, then threw it down her throat. He caught a faint flush in her cheeks. “Enjoying it?”
“It’s been a long time.” She glanced at him. “You’re not drinking.”
“I’m not into drinking that much,” he said. “Wine and beer, a light Scotch and water before dinner are about my speed. Alcohol is a downer for me. I’m not into downers.”
“Dope?” she asked.
“Some.”
“Marijuana, cocaine, speed, mind-blowers?” She looked at him.
He smiled. “At times.”
“That’s very American,” she said. “I remember when I was there at school.” She picked up his vodka glass and emptied it and her breath seemed to come out as a soft sigh. “This is very European.”
“Dif’rent strokes for dif’rent folks,” he smiled.
She leaned against the back of her chair. “I feel warm,” she said. “I think I’m getting a little drunk.”
“If you feel tired, you can go to sleep.”
“Oh, no, I’m enjoying it,” she smiled. “This is as much fun as I’ve had in a long time. Down there everyone is very serious.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at him. “Do you have any cocaine?”
He nodded.
“May I have a little?” She saw his hesitation. “It’s okay. It will pick me up a bit. I don’t want to fall asleep just yet.”
He went into his bedroom and came back with the gold vial. He turned it over in his fingers and tapped its side; the white powder filled the plastic top. “This is an injector,” he said. “Place it in one nostril, press the bottom and snort.”
“It seems complicated,” she said. “Could you do it for me?”
He held it to her nostril. “Snort,” he said, pressing the plunger. She caught her breath. Quickly he placed it into her other nostril. “Again!”
She held still for a moment, then turned to him, her eyes wide and shining. “I felt it go right up to my brain.”
He laughed. “It does that sometimes.”
“Now I feel really warm,” she said. “Even my nipples feel hot and hard.”
He watched her silently.
“You don’t believe me,” she said.
“I believe you,” he said, smiling.
“You’re laughing at me,” she said. She pulled the zipper of her jumpsuit to her breasts. “Now do you believe me?” she asked.
Her breasts were strong and full, her nipples plum
colored and rock-hard, jutting. He looked at her face. “Beautiful.”
“Touch me,” she said harshly. “Touch me for God’s sake or I’ll orgasm alone just as I have by myself for the last five years!”
He drew her to his chest, holding her head against him, his other hand cupping and caressing her breasts. He felt the shuddering racking of her body against him. Softly he pressed her long hair. After a moment she was quiet. He didn’t move.
Her voice was muffled against his chest. “Were you with the three girls they sent up to your suite?”
“No,” he said. “I sent them away.”
She was silent for a moment. “I’m glad. They had hidden cameras over the bed in your room.”
“That’s stupid,” he said. “What could that gain them?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “They had the entire suite bugged.”
“That’s standard procedure,” he said. “I expected it.” He laughed. “Nothing but children’s games.”
“They weren’t children’s games,” she said. “A man was killed and three men are in the hospital because something went wrong with their power source.”
“Too bad,” he said. “I knew nothing about it.”
She sneezed suddenly. He raised her head and handed her a Kleenex. “It’s the coke,” he said. “Rinse your nose out with water.” He showed her to the bathroom and then went to his chair.
He was sipping champagne as she returned. He looked at her. She had washed her face and brushed her hair. “You think I’m terrible?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “You’re just human. You might be a doctor but you’re also a woman, a very beautiful woman, and both of them have needs that have to be satisfied to be whole.”
She hesitated. “I think I’ll return to my cabin.”
He rose from his chair. “If that’s what you want. If you’re tired.”
She looked into his eyes. “What do you desire?” she asked.
He smiled slowly. “You already know.”
5
A faint sound of the pitch of the jet engines brought him awake. He picked up the telephone beside the bed. “How are we doing?” he asked.
“Right on schedule, Mr. Crane,” Captain Peters said from the flight deck. “We’re ten and one-half hours into our flight, twenty thousand feet above Delhi, India, and taking on fuel. We expect to land in Pekin in eight hours and twenty minutes. All systems okay and go.”
Descent from Xanadu Page 3