"Oh, there are restrictions.” Raf's voice had changed again; it was low and toneless. “There are rules."
"You haven't done much harm yet,” Mr. Epstein continued, “but—” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “You might, if you remain. You might even cause harm to yourself. Apparently you didn't realize, for example, that you'd be conspicuous by renting this place with gold. The people in buildings like this usually barter for their rent."
"And making your car's engine disappear,” Gerard said. “That caused a problem."
"And the letter didn't even have a city typed on it,” Sarah said.
Raf sat up. He stared at her so intensely that she had to avert her eyes. “What letter?"
"The letter you got. We went and picked it up. Somehow it got into the system with no point of origin listed."
"What did it say?” He was on the edge of the cot now, as if ready to leap at her. She shrank against the chair. “What did it say?"
"Something about a search, and being almost ready, and you going along.” She held the arms of the chair. “It was signed M."
Raf rose quickly and went to the window, looking up at the sky. He put his hands on the sill. Sarah thought she saw his right hand tremble. He crossed the room and sat down again. He bowed his head for a moment, then put his hands on his knees and leaned forward.
"I assume you all want something from me,” he said, “or you wouldn't be here. Well, what's it to be? More money, I suppose. That seems to be everyone's primary interest here. I can supply you with quite large sums."
Sarah tried to calculate how much she could request; enough for Gerard to open a bookstore of his own, another sum to migrate to a region farther south, something to live on while the business was being established, something for taxes and bribes. Raf's mouth twisted as he watched her; it was as if he could read her mind. She shuddered; maybe he could. He would buy them off and disappear again, probably for good. The mystery would remain. The money was beginning to seem less important. She grimaced; her mother was right, she had no practical sense at all.
Mr. Epstein cleared his throat. “I can't speak for Gerry and Sarah,” he said, “but I'll tell you what I want. Money means little to me now. I had it once and lost most of it, and restoring wealth to me at my age won't matter much; I have little time left to enjoy it. I want something else."
"My, my,” Raf said. “There are limits on what I can do, sir.” Sarah glanced at the old man, feeling as though they were natives trying to fleece a tourist.
"If you can take, you can give.” Mr. Epstein sat up and straightened his neck. “I want to see your world. I want to see what's beyond. You've traveled here. You can pay me back with a journey. Unless, of course, you're an imposter."
Raf smiled. Sarah folded her arms across her chest; there was something threatening about the smile. “Be careful of what you say, sir,” Raf said. “I haven't much of a world to show you."
"I've made my request. Either you can do it, or you can't."
"Others have made that request.” Raf's voice was flat. “Oh, yes, I have been here before, many times.” He glanced at Sarah and Gerard. “I suppose your jobs will prevent you from accompanying us on this junket."
"I don't have a job now,” Sarah said. “I got fired.” She looked at Gerard. “I'll go.” She tried to smile. She suddenly felt as though she was being manipulated, pushed along a path against her will.
Gerard said, “We'll both go. We'll take a chance. If we didn't, I think we'd be wondering about it for the rest of our lives. Why not?” His voice shook a little. “We'll go."
"Very well,” Raf said. “We'll go. We'll go now. We'll drive out to my country place. There is no point in a delay, is there?"
Sarah shook her head.
"You made your request,” Raf went on. “Just remember that. You chose. I very much want you to keep that in mind. I'm only obliging you."
They had left Gerard's Toyota at home and driven out in Mr. Epstein's car, filling it with fuel before leaving. As they crossed the field to Raf's stone house, Sarah found that she was neither curious nor afraid, only anxious. She imagined herself going into the house: Raf would tell them it was all a joke, and they would have a good laugh over their own gullibility before going back. She would feel very silly, but relieved.
Raf led them into the house and down through the trapdoor, guiding them with a flashlight through the dark, damp tunnel. They reached the end of the tunnel, and the wall slid aside.
Sarah saw a lighted room. The walls curved over her head. The room was cluttered with artifacts, books in stacks on the floor, goblets sitting on top of them, jewelry, manuscripts, and toys strewn in heaps. They left the room and entered another which had several reclining seats. Tapestries lined the walls, some bearing the geometric patterns of Oriental rugs, others showing scenes of medieval life.
"This is my ship,” Raf said in an expressionless voice. “I have kept it underground, though I don't suppose anyone was likely to find it out here. We shall make our journey in it."
"Okay,” Sarah said. Her voice was quavering. “You fooled us, you don't have to fool around any more."
"I beg your pardon."
She clutched Gerard's arm. “It's just a couple of rooms, right? A stage set."
Raf frowned. “I'm disappointed in you, Sarah."
She surveyed the room. At one end, there was a flat dashboard, which she assumed was supposed to be the control panel. Above it was a wide screen, which revealed only darkness. “Look at this,” she went on. “It's a mess in here."
"My, my. Whoever said interplanetary vehicles had to be tidy?” Raf shrugged. “You came because you thought I was joking, not because you believed me and were courageously entering the unknown. How disappointing."
She was beginning to feel apprehensive once more. “It seems very small,” she murmured.
"Well, we don't have far to go.” Raf waved at the chairs. “Be seated, and we'll depart."
She approached a seat hesitantly and sat down. She searched for a safety belt and found none.
"Don't we have to strap in?” Gerard asked as he and Mr. Epstein seated themselves.
"Not at all. This vessel is quite advanced, by your standards.” Raf sat in front of the panel of instruments. “I must ask you a favor. Do not disturb me during our trip. This vessel is fully capable of piloting itself, but I must concentrate and be alert, in case it's necessary to override or take over piloting for a time. It's both very simple and very difficult to operate this craft, depending on circumstances."
Raf made motions with his hands over the panel. The room shook slightly, and the darkness abruptly dropped away. Sarah saw the tops of trees on the large screen, then layers of clouds. But she could feel no movement. The Earth became a crescent, shrinking rapidly.
She gazed at Gerard. His eyes were wide. She looked back at the screen. Ahead lay darkness, pitted with points of light.
Twelve
Raf had been silent ever since the beginning of the journey. Mr. Epstein was in the other room, exploring its artifacts. Sarah got up and motioned to Gerard. He followed her into the adjoining room.
Mr. Epstein was leafing through an old leather-bound volume. He looked up. “What are we going to do?” Sarah said softly.
The old man put the book down. “There isn't much we can do."
"Oh, yes, there is,” Gerard whispered. “Look at this, we can walk around here instead of being in free fall. Don't you know what that means?"
"He said the ship was advanced."
"It means we're still on Earth,” Gerard responded.
The old man frowned. “What?"
"It means we're still on Earth. Do you still have your gun?"
"Why, no. I left it in the car. I didn't want to risk provoking our friend out there.” Mr. Epstein peered at them. “What about the screen? It certainly makes it look as though we're in space."
"Special effects,” Gerard mumbled. “It must be special effects or something."
/> Sarah shook her head. “No, Gerry. I don't think so. It's too elaborate. I believe Raf now.” She glanced around the room. “Look at all this stuff. He must have robbed plenty of museums.” She turned and went back to her seat, Gerard following her.
A reddish globe was growing on the screen. Mars, she thought, then remembered what she had seen when Raf had shown her his console. “Our destination,” Raf said, turning in his seat for a moment.
"Mars?” Mr. Epstein said from the doorway.
"Not exactly. Its satellite, Phobos. I had to move from the moon some time ago."
"You're from the moon? That's impossible."
"I'm not from the moon."
"You can't be from Mars, either.” Mr. Epstein sat down in his seat.
"Of course not. I have a base here, that's all."
"Mars,” Mr. Epstein muttered. The planet swelled, taking up the screen. They dropped toward an Idaho potato; the potato grew until it became a planetoid rushing up to meet them. Sarah could still feel no movement. An opening under a precipice swallowed the ship. They moved toward a lighted cave and landed in it. She caught a glimpse of two other objects, spherical but flattened at the top and bottom, that looked like ships.
"We have arrived,” Raf said as he rose. “In a few moments, we'll have air in the dock, and we'll be able to leave this vessel. I do hope you'll make yourselves at home."
They passed through a maze of corridors. The narrow halls were white. Sarah felt disoriented; she would never be able to find her way through them. They came to a hallway filled with more artifacts like those on the ship, urns and manuscripts and photographs, many of them yellowing. Raf led them to a room filled with Oriental rugs and large, red cushions.
"You may stay here, for now,” he said. “Please excuse the disorder. I left the Lunar base some time ago. I didn't want to be there when men landed, for obvious reasons. I had to move everything, and I didn't have time to organize it all. I thought my stay here would be temporary. I had expected human beings would be on Mars before now."
"They should have been,” Mr. Epstein said. “Here, and other places. I thought they would be."
Raf backed away toward the door. “Make yourselves comfortable.” He left, and the door slid shut.
Sarah roamed the room, then settled on a cushion. “I'm hungry,” she said. “I didn't have breakfast.” She felt lightheaded. She took off her coat and dropped it on the floor. It settled slowly on a rug.
"I hope he has food,” Gerard said as he sat next to her. “I hope he has something we can eat, not just alien grub."
"He said he left the moon,” Mr. Epstein said. “But we landed there more than thirty years ago.” He frowned as he took off his coat and beret. “He must be older than he looks.” He took a few steps. “Do you notice anything odd?"
"What do you mean?” Sarah said.
"Don't you feel it? I feel a little lighter. Believe me, when you're my age, you notice things like that.” He shrugged. “Well, I might as well look around. He didn't say we couldn't."
"Don't get lost,” she said.
The old man went to the door and waited. He pressed against it with his hands, then felt the walls. “Didn't Raf open it here?” he said. He pushed along the sides. The door remained closed. He hit it with a fist, then leaned against it. “We can't get out."
Gerard shed his coat. The old man came back and sat down across from them, lowering his body slowly. “I don't mind telling you I'm apprehensive,” he went on. “You didn't have to come, too. I feel responsible somehow."
"Don't,” Gerard responded. “We made our choice. You can't say we weren't warned.” He tilted his head. “I'm surprised at you. You really wanted to come, didn't you."
"Yes. I had my dreams once. Many of us did. You're too young to remember that. My family made me give up mine. I had to get my children settled, and had to take care of my wife before she died. I kept thinking things would change, and I would have my own life again. I never thought the world would become so cramped, so poor, though I should have seen it coming. I can't tell you what a shock it was when I realized I was an old man.” He paused. “You're lucky you're young. You don't miss our old dreams."
"I think we do,” Sarah said. “Maybe not the way you do, but—"
"I suppose you do. We let you down.” The old man stretched his arms cautiously. “I do feel a bit lighter."
"So do I,” Gerard said. “But there shouldn't be even this much of a gravitational pull in a little place like this, should there?” He shook his head. “Martin would love this room."
Sarah tried to laugh, then heard a hum. A panel had opened on the wall to her left. She got up and went to the opening, discovering a large salad, a bottle of water, and three plates with silver forks. Lifting out the provisions, she carried them back to the others. “Food,” she said. “I should have told Raf I was off my diet."
Mr. Epstein held up a plate. “Nice china,” he said, gazing at the blue and white pattern. He helped himself to salad, then filled a plate for Sarah.
She waved it away. “I'm not hungry, Mr. Epstein."
"I don't think we need to stand on formality, Sarah. Please call me Richard. My friends always called me Richie, but I think that sounds a little foolish at my age.” He pushed the plate at her.
"I've lost my appetite."
"You'd better eat,” Gerard said with a full mouth. “And then I hope I can find a john.” He smiled briefly.
"We're prisoners.” Sarah struggled to keep from giving way to hysteria. “We don't know what he'll do. Maybe he's watching us right now.” She got up and hurried to the door, feeling it with her hands, then beating her fists against it. “Raf.” She took a deep breath. “Raf!"
Gerard was near her. He took her by the shoulders. “Don't, Sarah.” He held her gently. “Look, he gave us food. Maybe he's protecting us, maybe he doesn't want us to wander around and get lost.” He led her back to her cushion.
"God,” she said, sitting down. “I'm scared, Gerry."
"So am I."
"It's starting to get through to me. We must have been crazy to come."
"Sarah."
"Well, at least we're together.” She raised her hands to her face, struggling with herself. Gerard pushed a plate of salad toward her. She left it on the floor, but accepted some water, swigging it from the bottle. She heard the crunching of the lettuce as the men ate and was suddenly angry with them for being able to eat when she could not. They would be at one another's throats if they were kept here too long. She wondered if that was what Raf wanted.
She got up again and searched the wall near the panel that had yielded the food. Part of the wall slid away. Escape, she thought, and then realized that there was no way to get off Phobos in any case.
She entered a small room. There was a receptacle, shaped like a bowl, with a swan-like neck of metal arching toward her. Next to it was a square box-like seat. She explored the seat, lifting its lid and looking down a large metallic funnel. She closed it again.
"I think I found the john,” she said to Gerard as she returned. She sat down and began to pick at her salad, then shoved the plate away. Gerard said, “Hey."
She looked up. The door to their prison was opening. Sarah raised her eyes slowly.
A small auburn-haired woman stood there, clad in a white shirt and loose pants. Her pale cheeks were pink; she looked almost like a girl. She entered the room, approaching them.
"Raf has brought you.” Her English was accented. “He should not have left you here as he did."
Mr. Epstein leaned forward. “But,” he said. “But who are you?” He did not wait for an answer. “You look—I don't quite know how to put it. You look human."
"But I am. As human as you are. As human as Raf, though he has lost part of his humanity."
"Raf?” Sarah said, puzzled.
"Has he told you he is from another place? He is not. He is human, whatever he has said.” The woman sat down in front of them. “Sometimes he pretends he i
s not, and sometimes I think he believes he is not. I have been with him for a long time. My name is Margaret."
Sarah did not know what to say. She glanced at Gerard. He stared back.
"I must explain,” Margaret went on. “Raf came to my village long ago. He was an outsider, and we were suspicious of him, believing him to be an alchemist or a magician. We feared him, but we accepted his gold, and there were those who thought he would protect us. I sought him out—not as others did, for his gold—but for his knowledge. He took my will from me, and my virtue, and told me my world was dying, and that I would die with it. He spoke of a far place where the world could not touch me, and showed me miracles. I asked him to take me to that far place, for I feared the plague that threatened us."
"The plague?” Gerard asked.
"The Black Death."
Sarah tensed. “But that was—"
"Hundreds of years ago?” Margaret paused. “Yes, I was taken by Raf centuries ago, and I still live, I am as I was. At first, he was gentle—he gave me this life, and taught me many things. But at times a spirit would come over him, and he would torment me, bending me to his will. I bowed to him, until I knew almost as much as he knew, and then I found out about the others."
"Others?” Sarah murmured.
"Other beings. I have felt their presence, as if in a dream, but I have not seen them. Why do you think we are here? We are observers, set here to watch our home by those others. We watch, and we record our observations. We are powerless to do more. Raf was not always alone. He had brought others from Earth even before he took me, but no one has remained—all have left to seek the others who gave Raf his post. I have traveled to Earth with Raf. Your world is dying, as mine did so long ago."
"But what do you do?” Gerard said.
"I have told you—we observe. We cannot do more. We have seen the hells you create for yourselves. Raf has been watching for many ages. Often I think it has driven him mad."
Sarah pressed her hands together. “Why did he bring us here?"
"Because he knows he will lose me, and he does not want to be alone."
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