Authors: Gene Wolfe
So we did, walking quite a way before we found a police phone on a light pole. She opened it up, pushed buttons, and asked for the man I have been calling Baldy. There was a wait and some hassling back and forth. When she had him she said, “Grafton and I go out for breakfast this morning, sir, and in the café in which we eat there is a rumor concerning the archbishop. You have hear of this?”
…
“This rumor say he has taken his own life. Perhaps it is untrue, but I feel you should know of the rumor, sir.”
…
“That is most well, sir. Grafton and I will go if you wish it.”
…
“Yes, sir. We will continue, as you say.” She hung up, smiling.
I asked what Baldy had said.
“He say he will send operators to see if it is true. Should it be true, they will keep safe the records of the archdiocese. These must be secure. It is what I wish.”
“Will they have a look at them?”
“But of course! Here is a most wonderful chance for us to look at everything when there is no one to object. Tomorrow, I think, the oldest bishop comes. He will say this must stop. They will continue. He will complain to the Leader. The Leader will wait a day, two days, three it might be. Then he will order them to stop and they will stop. By this time we know much and perhaps we know everything.” Naala started walking. She always walked fast.
Almost trotting to keep up, I asked, “Where are we going?”
“You will see!” I got the mean grin. “You will not like, I think.”
I believe she started to tell me then, but maybe not. What is for sure is that I was not paying much attention. Up ahead I had seen somebody. He saw me, too, and when he saw me he ducked into the trees around a building full of shops he was passing.
He got out of sight fast, but not fast enough. I knew I had seen Kleon.
23
THE DEAD DRAGON
I should have guessed where we were going, but I did not. It was one hell of a long way, but we flagged down a black-and-silver and got a ride to a low gray building on the far side of the river in the oldest part of the city.
He had beaten us there and was already stretched out, face up on a slab. All the other dead people were face up, too, and I felt like I was back at the undertaker’s, only with bright lights and more bodies. I told Naala that in America we covered them up with sheets and put each of them in its own compartment on a metal slab with rollers. She said, “Here we do not,” and she was right. It was really cold in there, but not freezing.
The attendant, I do not know what you call those, was a big ugly guy about fifty who had not shaved that morning. He came over like he wanted to help, and after a minute or so he asked us, “They cannot be buried in holy ground, yes? What will they do?”
“He falls by accident,” Naala said. She was still looking at the archbishop. I think looking for bulletholes or stab wounds. Anything like that.
The big ugly guy was quiet for a minute. Then he said, “I will remember.”
After that we went to Papa Iason’s, which was maybe half a mile from there. He was still eating breakfast and invited us to sit down. We told him we had already eaten, but we got coffee anyway.
“For you we have good news,” Naala began, “also bad. Which is it you desire to hear first, Papa?”
“The bad, of course.”
“As you wish. His Excellency is climb the cathedral tower each morning for exercise. You know of this, I am sure.”
Papa Iason nodded.
“This morning he falls, Papa.” Naala’s tone made what she had not said pretty clear.
Papa Iason crossed himself, bowed his head, and began to pray. It was loud enough for me to catch a few words, but too fast for me to follow what he was saying. Naala and I sat and watched and sipped weak coffee. I wanted to whisper a little prayer for the archbishop, but I could not do it.
Finally Papa Iason looked up and said, “He will be remembered a long, long time.”
We nodded.
“I will dedicate my mass tomorrow to him. I have already said my mass for today, you understand.”
Naala said, “He was a man of many years. A man older than most men will ever be.”
Papa Iason sighed. “He should have had a rail on the steps. It could have been done easily, and many suggested it.”
Naala nodded.
I said, “He certainly should have!” I was remembering whatever it had been that had tripped me on those steps in the dark. I got scared every time I thought about it.
“There will be a mass in the cathedral with every priest in the country in attendance.” Papa Iason smiled. “We will fill all the seats and stand in the aisles. Every priest and every nun. Monks from the monasteries.”
He looked at me. “You come from the West and know nothing of this, I suppose, but our monasteries nearly failed when the communists were in charge. Things are better now, but it is a hard life. A most hard life. Few men will live as they do. I thought long about it, but in the end—well, you see what I chose.”
Naala said, “What of my good news, Papa? Would you not wish to hear also?”
Papa Iason smiled and ate a piece of bacon. “Yes, indeed! And I must eat, otherwise Mrs. Vagaros will think I am ill and make me soak my feet in the water that steams. What is your good news?”
“Your father is no longer a fugitive. He assists the JAKA against the Unholy Way.”
Papa Iason just stared at her. You do not see the color go out of somebody’s face very often, but I saw it then. Finally he said, “You know.”
“I am of the JAKA, Papa. I have not concealed this from you.”
Papa Iason nodded, really slowly. “Surely he was in great danger.”
I said, “He was. Maybe he still is. They took a shot at him last night.”
“God grant they missed.”
“Yeah. They did. He didn’t.”
Naala said, “Three he kill. Three of the evil one’s worshippers. It was brave work, but we prefer prisoners. We got ten. This, too, was the good work of your father. Of Grafton, also.”
I shook my head. “They just about had me.”
Naala said, “First you send the policeman to bring me. If you had not, we would have taken none. This I know.”
Papa Iason said, “Three he killed. It was my father who did this?”
I said, “Right. He had a shotgun.”
“I see.” Papa Iason looked troubled.
“He’s been staying with a friend in the city. Maybe we could take you to see him, if you want to go. It’s up to Naala.”
“I ask a favor instead. A great favor. You owe me no favors, I know. I ask it even so. Will you take me to the cathedral?”
So we did. There was no blood at all, just a clean spot on the pavement in front. I pointed it out to Naala after Papa Iason had gone inside. After that she wanted to see the steps to the top of the tower. I was afraid she was going to want to climb up, but she did not. We were leaving the tower when another JAKA operator ran up to us. It took me a minute to place her, but that was only because I am really pretty stupid. It was the gray-haired lady who had tried on so many hats. She told Naala, “I see a car through window. I think it may be you.” She was a little breathless.
“You have news?”
“Yes! Yes!” Then she wanted to know if I was me, so I got out my badge case and showed my badge and ID card.
“I am Omphala. You are to go to Central at once, both must go. First you find three people, then go. The man is Russell Rathaus. His wife, also, and the woman with her. You bring them all. At once go!”
I said, “Martya?”
“Yes, I think. She is with the man Rathaus? Her you must bring, too.”
When Naala and I were in the car on the way to pick up Russ, I asked her what was up.
She laughed, but it did not sound like she was having fun. “Everything I know. That you think. I know nothing. We must go and find the answer.”
Getting Russ was easy. As it turned out, that was the only easy part. He was at Magos X’s, and came right away, looking happier than I had ever seen him. “I’m going back to America,” he told me. It was in English, and it was the first thing he said after he got into the car.
I said, “That’s great!” and shook his hand.
Naala said, “What is it he say, Grafton?”
I told her, then I asked him how he knew. After that I told Naala his host told fortunes, but he had told me he would not tell mine when we first met.
She laughed, and this time it was for real. “You are a bad, bad young man, I think. He does not wish to spoil you. He will tell you of all the women, beautiful women. Famous women. Rich women. You hear all this and you are unbearable.”
I said I would settle just for beautiful, like her.
“Now you say this, later it is not so. Then you say rich.”
Russ laughed, and so did the cop. I did not think it was all that funny, but I grinned anyway. “Beautiful
and
rich.” I should have said already that I was sitting in the middle with Naala on one side and Russ on the other.
He leaned close and whispered in English, “He says the Undead Dragon’s dead.”
I nodded and said out loud, “Yeah, we know.”
Naala wanted to know what we were talking about. She did not say so, but I could see it. I just said, “He’s heard the rumor, you know?” and sort of nodded at the cop in the front seat.
When we got to Aliz’s building Naala told Russ to wait in the car. She and I went inside and up a flight to knock on Aliz’s door. Nobody came.
“They are somewhere gone.”
I said maybe they had gone to lunch, and we ought to look in the cafés.
“It is too early. We must look elsewhere.”
So instead of looking anywhere, we had the cop drive us to a police phone so Naala could call headquarters. She talked for a minute or two before she hung up and got back in the car. “They are not there. Not the Rathaus woman, not the other woman, not even Aliz.”
I said, “What do we do now?”
“The Golden Eagle. It may be they are there. It may also be they go elsewhere, but someone there may know. No one in JAKA building know.”
We went quite a ways farther, then I yelled for the cop to stop.
Naala grabbed my arm. “Them you see?”
“I saw Kleon again,” I told her, “and this time Kleon didn’t see me.” The car had stopped, and Russ was getting out so I could.
He was out of sight among the trees and bushes before I got out. I ran and looked and ran and looked, but no Kleon. Finally Naala and Russ caught up to me in the car and I gave it up. Naala was mad, and I do not blame her.
“All right,” I said, “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve known I could never catch a guy as scared as he is when he had a little lead.”
Russ was polite enough not to use English this time. “What did you want him for?”
“First off,” I told him, “I wanted to beat the crap out of him. He beat me awhile back and someday I’m going to get even. Second, I wanted to fix it so the cops back in his hometown won’t kill him. I was supposed to sleep at his place every night, only I got kidnapped by the Legion of the Light. You know about all that.”
Russ nodded.
“So the cops are going to shoot him for it, and that’s why he’s on the run. Only I think maybe I can fix it, and I’m going to try.”
“If you can’t, he gets shot,” Russ told me.
Naala called me five kinds of fool, which is one of the worst things you can say in her language, especially if you make the gestures. Which she did. Maybe it should have bothered me, but I was thinking about what Russ had said, and it did not.
So we went to the Golden Eagle and Aliz was not there. Neither were Rosalee or Martya. I told Naala I needed to talk to her in private. To tell you the truth, I expected her to tell me to go to hell, but she did not. She just stared.
Then she nodded and we went over to a booth in the bar and sat down. “I know where they are,” I said. “If you want I’ll go there alone. I’ll collect them and bring them to the JAKA building for you, or we can all go there. Your choice.”
“Where is it you think?”
“Papa Iason’s. You want me to explain?”
Naala shook her head. “If they are there, then you explain. Not now. We will go.”
We did, and they were there waiting for him. Naala sent the cop to find us another car, and gave me a look that made me feel ten feet tall. Then she touched her finger to her lips.
“Now you tell,” Naala whispered. “Most quiet you tell me how you knew.”
“Well, seeing Kleon like that made me think of Martya. Martya’s his wife.”
“This I knew.”
“And I remembered that somebody had sent operators to a bunch of dress shops to look for Rosalee that time. It seems like sometimes they like to help out with other people’s cases now and then. Lend a hand.”
Naala nodded. “This is so.”
“Women like to talk, and I don’t remember Russ ever saying that he had sworn Martya to secrecy when he sent her to give the hand to Papa Iason. She never said anything about that either, not that I heard.”
Naala snapped her fingers. “The hand! It is in your pocket?”
“Sure.” I took it out and held it up. “Only Aliz doesn’t know that, and Martya didn’t know it, either. They probably patched her up at the hospital, gave her a tetanus shot, and sent her back to Aliz. There would have been a lot of talk about witchcraft and black magic. She would have told Aliz about the hand, and Aliz would go to Papa’s looking for it. When we told Papa about the archbishop, his housekeeper was back in the kitchen. You remember how it was? She brought us coffee. Then she went back there, probably to have some breakfast herself. He went off with us and we took him to the cathedral, but his housekeeper didn’t know where he had gone.”
“Here Aliz waits for his return.” Naala looked like she wanted to laugh. “We have made the most large arrest. She will make the great discovery, perhaps. She does not know she is most far behind us.”
“Right, and she has to keep Martya and Rosalee with her until somebody else takes them.”
So there were six of us going to headquarters: Naala and me, Russ and Rosalee, Aliz, and Martya. The driver of our car had found another police car for us, but Russ wanted to ride with Rosalee, so that was a complication. We tried to keep the seat beside the driver open when we could. Naala said there was a regulation about that. This time it meant Martya sandwiched between Naala and me. Naala had wanted me to sit there, but I would not do it. Martya was smaller than I am, curves or no curves.