CHRYSALIS Page 10

  “So this isn’t a case of jealous wife wishes husband rid of lovely mistress?”

  “Hardly. I’m not jealous, and she’s not lovely. Very far from it. My husband is under a very great strain, Mr. Pure. We face rebellion in far off places, there’ve been rumblings of mutiny in some of the native regiments, there is thievery and lechery in high places. My husband could handle it, Mr. Pure, he’s quite capable of extraordinary things, but he has recently become indecisive, which isn’t like him. He has apparently come to believe that without Dorothea he can do nothing. She’s become a necessity to him, an emotional crutch, so much so that my husband comes very close to despond when she refuses him, as she has recently taken to doing. Dorothea has chosen this moment to withdraw from him, Mr. Pure, to question my husband's place in her affections, and thus his right to share in her power.”

  “Do you know your husband asked me to join him? He offered to adopt me, to make me his political heir, if I would join the Federation.”

  “Yes, he told me of his intention. I believe it to be a further indication of his decline. A year ago he’d have laughed at the suggestion he needed Tal Avenger for anything.”

  “What you ask seems dangerous, dangerous for you, dangerous for your husband, and so I must wonder why you ask it. Is it not true your husband will be very much weaker without the medusa?”

  “Dorothea has control of magical forces, Mr. Pure, powerful forces which she has given to my husband to use. One need only look at what my husband has done to New Jersey to be filled with awe and dread. But Dorothea herself cannot employ these forces, she can only give them to another. The power she gave my husband is transmitted to him through another agency, a third party if you will. In my husband's case, this agency is a large ruby she has given him, and which he wears around his neck. The power of the ruby is thus quite independent of Dorothea, and its power may be used in any way the wearer sees fit, at least until Dorothea decides the wearer is no longer worthy of her favor and takes it back. One of the difficulties of removing Dorothea from Linngard will be in keeping her from taking the ruby with her.”

  “So far, it sounds like a piece of cake.”

  “This morning you had only one choice, Mr. Pure, accept my husband's offer and live or reject my husband's offer and die. Now you’ve another choice. Take Dorothea from Linngard and live. Which shall it be, Mr. Pure?”

  He moved closer to her. “Let me see your eyes, Mrs. Kosh.”

  “My eyes?”

  “Your eyes.”

  She looked up, silver hair framing wide, violet eyes. She smiled, slowly and easily. “Nothing to hide, Mr. Pure,” she laughed. “No secrets, no evasions.”

  “How do I meet Dorothea?”

  “I’ll arrange it. And this is yours, I believe?” She took a small, cold green stone on a heavy gold chain from her purse and held it out.

  “Thank you, it is.” He was beyond surprise. He took it from her and put it around his neck.

  “The emerald is cold, as you yourself have observed. I believe your phrase was, 'All the lightning bugs are dead'.”

  “You’re very well informed, Mrs. Kosh.”

  She laughed merrily. “Oh, the things I know! The problem is, most of the things I know I wish I didn't.”

  “Tell me about the emerald. Was I one of Dorothea's lovers? In light of your description of her, it would not be at all strange to have been, and to have had the memories erased.”

  “You’d have had more than your memories erased, Mr. Pure,” she said with some amusement. “The emerald belonged to one of Dorothea's lovers, an old beau, the one just prior to my husband. His name was Juan, poor thing, a handsome Latin fellow, I understand, and he had powers, given him by Dorothea, acting through the emerald. But, like all lovers before him, she eventually came to believe he wasn’t who she thought he was.”

  “And who did she think he was?”

  “Her long lost love, whoever that was. I don't think even she knows. In any event, she came to believe my husband was her true lost lover, and he was only too happy to persuade her she was right. She gave him the ruby, and the rest of the story you know. With its power, my husband was able to establish the Federation, and he now controls much of the earth.”

  “And the old beau?”

  “That’s the frightening part. Once she had no further use for him, she turned him into a hound. She called him Old Bo, get it? A play on words.”

  “Oh, come on!” Simon exclaimed. “No one can do that!”

  “Dorothea can. She does it with all her ex-lovers. She has a canary named Khalid. Khalid's gem was a small yellow topaz, which is now hanging on the outside of his cage. Her lovers keep the gems, but they’re unable to use the power. That’s why the emerald, for a time, gave power to you, Mr. Pure, because although Old Bo could no longer use the power, he was able to redirect the power through Tal Avenger.”

  “The hound is Old Bo?”

  “The hound is Old Bo. My husband had no idea of this when he accepted her love, knew nothing of Old Bo, knew nothing of the canary Khalid. At least I don't think he did, though it’s possible he’d have gone ahead even had he known. Power is so seductive, Mr. Pure, and I suppose everyone believes he’s the exception to the rule.”

  “A moment ago you said you believed Dorothea was withdrawing from your husband, questioning his right to her affections.”

  “Yes. She has reached that point with my husband, the point she reaches, eventually, with all her lovers. She’s beginning to doubt he’s her true love. I can see the signs. Sariot has repeated to me some of the things she’s said. I’m frightened, Mr. Pure! I don’t want my husband turned into a hound!”

  He was tempted to say better than a canary, but said only, “I was aware power came through the emerald by way of the hound, but my knowledge of how the emerald and the hound came into my possession has fled my memory. Have you any knowledge of this?”

  “It was all Dorothea's doing,” she answered, accepting his lack of certain memories as a matter of course. “Dorothea was unhappy with the way my husband was using the power of the ruby, so she sent the hound and the emerald to Tal Avenger as counterweight, believing Tal Avenger to be the only one capable of ameliorating what Dorothea saw as excesses of the Federation. That, at least, is what she told my husband. Naturally, I don’t believe it for a moment. Dorothea is not concerned with ameliorating excesses of any kind. I’ve been here much too long, Mr. Pure,” she said, rising, “and talked far too much. But we have a pact. I’ll be in touch. You and your crew will go free, and you’ll take Dorothea with you.”

  “One last question. Where is the hound?”

  “Where you sought him, in the lava field, next to the late Gaeton Thon. The hound is dead, Mr. Pure. That’s why the emerald is cold. That’s another reason Dorothea must be taken out of here, willingly if possible, unwillingly if need be. She doesn’t know my husband has killed her old beau, and I fear the consequences when she finds out, as she eventually must.”

  “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Kosh.”

  She opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

  “You will not say anything of this visit. I won’t be in touch again today, but I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Please act as if you had never seen me before.”

  He nodded and she was gone. He closed the door and his brain said Eloise. He closed his eyes and the face of his wife was before him, the face of Simon Pure's wife, the Simon Pure of the world of Marykate and Dr. Posner. He compared the picture to the fresh and vivid memory of the striking Mrs. Kosh. Not a single feature, taken separately, compared favorably, but when he examined the pictures side by side he was struck with the similarity. They didn’t look at all alike, just as Kosh and Dr. Posner didn’t look at all alike, just as Marianna and Marykate could never have been mistaken for twins, or even sisters. Yet there was that indefinable something that said Ellysia Kosh and Eloise Pure were one and the same, an indefinable something that approached absolute certainty, a certainty as fixed a
s had he seen a sample of her handwriting.

  He couldn’t say for certain whether he was lying on Mrs. Shallcross's back bedroom floor or whether he was standing by the door of a modestly furnished jail cell on the bottom of Lake Champlain. He didn’t know if he was dreaming, or if this world were real, though certainly the previous conversation, of magical rubies and old beaux being turned into hounds and canaries, lacked a certain reasonableness. He wondered again who else was here he knew, and recognized that that was not an indication he was dreaming, for while a dream would naturally contain actors one knew in real life, it was always possible his brain, for purposes of its own, was seizing on quite minute areas of resemblance in an effort to convince him that real life was in fact a dream.

  He tried the door and it was still unlocked. He peered out, nodding to the guard at the end of the corridor. He tried the bed, and found it reasonably comfortable. He lay down and closed his eyes. Dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Kosh. Will it be his last, or will Mrs. Kosh get him and his crew out of here?

  26

  Some distance away, on the other side of the city, Marianna was at last alone. Captain Morales had left, her blue uniform had been picked up for cleaning, the Bobbsey twins had apparently been given orders taking them elsewhere, and the white uniformed kitchen employee had come by with the lunch menu and retrieved the breakfast tray.

  “Quite a morning,” she said brightly, and looked around the room, looking for a grille, remembering the movies she’d seen of people escaping by crawling through the ventilation system. She found a grille, but it was far too small to allow entry. She tried the door, but it was locked. She had nothing to read, not even the menu, for she’d filled it out and the kitchen man had taken it back with him. Finally, for lack of anything better, she lay on the bed, mind racing, forming plans of escape.

  The knock on the door startled her. She swore under her breath and got up, slippered feet making no sound on the thin carpeting.

  “The door’s locked! Go away!”

  She heard a key sliding into the keyway. The door opened. Her heart leaped into her throat.

  “My God! How did -” Her voice trailed off, as she realized, with sudden and terrible certainty, how he’d come to be standing in her doorway. Of course! He knew of Simon's plans, he ran the intelligence agents, he dealt with enemy sources. Now here he was, at her door, in a red uniform with Federation insignia!

  “Hello Marianna,” Neal Hernandez said.

  She said not a word, the color gone from her face, a cold, twisting knot of fear in her stomach. He made not a move to enter.

  “I can’t stay,” he grinned. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here if you need me.”

  She closed the door and heard the latch click. Stomach churning, almost sick, she leaned against the door, breathing heavily. Neal Hernandez was the traitor. But she didn’t yet know she was the reward for his treachery.

  27

  Simon drifted lazily up out of sleep. There seemed to be a tapping somewhere, though now that he listened for it it was gone. He wasn’t certain, but he seemed to be lying on the floor, his arms and legs at peculiar angles. He was conscious of a light, and he tried to control the drifting by steering himself toward it, for he had the uneasy feeling if he drifted off aimlessly he’d be lost.

  He arrived, finally, on the surface, fully awake, totally disoriented, believing he was lying on the floor in Mrs. Shallcross's back bedroom, a thought that caused him great pleasure. The tapping resumed, and he recognized it as someone at the door. Marykate? The housekeeper?

  He opened his eyes. He was still in Linngard. “Coming!” he said, and went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He opened the door to a white uniformed kitchen attendant.

  “Lunch, sir,” the man said, apologetically.

  “All right,” Simon said, yawning, “wheel it in.”

  The man left the cart by the bed, nodded briefly, and left.

  “Wait a minute,” Simon said. “What time is it?”

  “Lunchtime, sir,” the man said, closing the door behind him. “Bon appetit.”

  Simon lifted the cover and found a hot meal, some kind of grilled fish, and wondered if people stood by Kosh's fishwall and selected dinner. A folded napkin contained stainless steel tableware. He picked up the knife in wonderment, thinking this a very curious kind of jail.

  He opened the door and looked out. The corridor was clear. There had been a guard at the far end, but he seemed to be gone now. Was he gone for good? Had Mrs. Kosh dismissed him? He shrugged and closed the door. Maybe the guy just had to take a leak.

  He found he was hungry again, and the fish was good, so he dismissed Ellysia Kosh and Dorothea from his mind. But he could not so easily dismiss the thought of his team, especially Marianna. Kosh had said, ‘Your lady has arrived,’ and those words were burned in his brain. He had to assume Kosh was telling the truth, but he wouldn’t put it past him to say Marianna was here if he thought that thereby he’d gain an advantage. He finished lunch and set about deciding what he should do. The problem was, he didn’t know where anyone was, and until he knew that it was hard to see how he would go about rescuing them.

  He was toying with the knife, wondering if he could make a useable weapon of it, when another knock came at the door. He answered, presuming it was the kitchen attendant returning for the lunch cart. A solemn faced young woman handed him a sealed envelope.

  “From Mrs. Kosh,” she said.

  Wondering, he tore it open. He recognized the crabbed handwriting and purple ink immediately, a datum that caused some discomfort, for it reinforced his feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. The note said the bearer would take him to Dorothea.

  “Change of plans?”

  “I have no knowledge of other plans, sir,” she said. “I do my lady’s bidding.”

  He took the dead emerald from around his neck and placed it in a dresser drawer, mindful that Ellysia had said it would upset Dorothea if she knew the hound were dead. “Lead on,” he said, closing the door behind him.

  They went down a flight of steps and entered another corridor, which ended, after a short distance, at a solid metal door. The girl pushed a button on the wall next to the door, and in a moment or two he heard the door unlock.

  “We seem to be expected,” he smiled.

  “Straight ahead,” the girl said quickly. “There’s another door at the end of the corridor.”

  “Thanks,” Simon said, and stepped into a darkened space. Behind him, the door closed and locked. The dim overhead lights went out, leaving a small light at the far door. He knocked, and as he did the small light went out, leaving the corridor in total darkness. He heard the door swing open and stepped through the doorway, neck hairs tingling, into a darkness seemingly deeper than any darkness he’d ever known. The door closed behind him with a silent snick.

  “Come forward,” a woman’s voice said from somewhere.

  “How far?”

  “Eleven paces.”

  “Big room,” he said, and she laughed.

  “I like that. You are not afraid of Dorothea.”

  “I might be if I could see you.”

  “Yes you might,” she agreed, “but you are not going to see me. I live my life in the dark. I like the dark. The darkness comforts me, sustains me. Darkness has no boundaries, it is without beginning and without end.”

  “I confess to being at a loss, Dorothea. I don’t know whether you want to see me or Ellysia wants me to see you. In a manner of speaking.”

  “Perhaps it is both.”

  “All right, why do you want to see me?”

  “I have heard you are handsome, and daring, qualities possessed by someone I once knew. I am looking for him. We were lovers.”

  “What is he now, a cat?”

  She laughed merrily. “Oh, you are delicious! How wicked! No, he is not a cat, though if he were he might be easier to find.”

  “Do you think I might be your lost love?”

  �
��It is possible. Every time I think I have found him it turns out to be untrue. But I have the feeling my search is at last at an end. I had recently begun to think that if Sariot Kosh is not my beloved, then perhaps his adversary, the dashing Tal Avenger, is. I could not be certain until I had seen you. And now I have. My beloved! By your courage and by your wit you have revealed yourself to me. Stay where you are while I make myself comfortable!”

  He had the feeling he was suddenly alone. He heard not a sound, and though he strained mightily, he couldn’t penetrate the blackness. He stretched his senses, to no avail. He felt no pressure on his skin that might indicate the size of the room, something he was at pains to determine, for he knew dimensions were important, they established one's place in the universe.

  A tiny sound penetrated the dark, but it was only the chirping of a bird, coming from beyond the room. He waited for the bird to speak again, but it did not. He wondered if it was Khalid, and the thought of Khalid brought him stark upright. She seemed to think he was her long lost lover. The conversation with Ellysia came flooding back in torrents, vast washes of information, all of which initially seemed to be unsettling in the extreme, but upon reflection seemed to offer promise.

  If he could take Dorothea's ramblings as literally true, that meant Kosh was out of favor, as had been Juan and Khalid, and who knew how many others before that? Did that mean Kosh was soon to become a wide-eyed pike, swimming past his own fishwall? If so, there was a good chance the Federation would collapse and the eternal war would end, with Tal Avenger the victor, and the world restored to peace. On the other hand, there was obvious danger in becoming a stand-in for the missing lost lover, as no doubt the tiny avian in the next room could attest.

  The more he thought about it though, the better he liked it. Clearly, now that he knew the danger, there would be no danger. Dorothea was clearly whacko, living in the dark, pining for somebody long gone, but if being her heartthrob for a while would get rid of Kosh, why then he’d jolly the old dear along. He now knew exactly how he’d handle it. He’d let her think he was her long lost love. That would make him her lover, whatever that entailed, and if Ellysia were right, would gain him the same powers she’d given Kosh, so that even if Kosh were not turned into a dust mite he’d be fighting him on even terms. Once he had the power, once Kosh was finished, he’d put a great deal of distance between himself and the dear old fruitcake, thus seeing to it that he and Khalid did not engage in any duets any time soon. He smiled in the darkness, immensely satisfied with his cleverness.