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"Now, now, did I say that?" The archaeologist plas-tered a big, fat, fake grin
on his face. He'd been down this road with others of Oelefse's ilk, many times
before, and had formulated a routine for dealing with them. The important
thing was to remain calm, and friendly, and sympathetic to their beliefs.
"You're not going to give me any trouble, are you? Because I really am busy."
"Verdammt, do you think you are the only one? The only person who is troubled
by Those Who Abide?" "No, of course not." Cody was already halfway down the
hall. He glanced back at his visitor. "I'm just one of the busiest ones."
His visitor sighed. "Two blocks from here there is an artificial
cataract that decorates the entrance to this neighborhood. It has a big
sign on the bottom and is constructed of native stone." Small, intense blue
eyes locked on Cody's. "Presently, it is home to not less than two and not
more than four Interlopers, of at least two different types.
Cody stopped walking toward the front door. Pivoting sharply, he
returned to the den. "How do you know that?" His visitor was right,
of course. Cody saw those particular Interlopers every time he drove
past the waterfall.
"I see them, of course. Your house, by the way, is clean."
"Yes, I know." Hastily shoveling papers out of another chair, he sat down
opposite his visitor, whom he was now seeing in an entirely new light.
Could it be that the man's inner strength, his tone of voice, his
self-possession, were not manifestations of madness, but of something else?
"The question is, how do you
know?"
"I told you. I can see them. Anyone who belongs to the Society must be able to
perceive."
Cody swallowed. He was too unsettled to be polite. "You're from Germany and
you belong to an organiza-tion that's aware of Those Who Abide?"
His visitor took the archaeologist's astonishment in stride, exactly as if it
was something he had encountered before. "The translation in German is
different. Why should you be so surprised? We have had more than our share of
troubles with Those Who Abide."
Cody found himself nodding slowly, aware that he had gone from cool skepticism
to grudging acceptance of his visitor's legitimacy. "That would explain a
lot."
"There are many explanations awaiting you, my young friend. Not everyone is of
a mind sufficiently open to ac-cept them."
"Oh, I'll accept them, all right." Cody spoke with feel-ing. "I'll accept
anything that might help my MR." "Ah ja, your wife." Oelefse was nodding
slowly to himself. "From the description accompanying your en-treaty,
a most unfortunate, but hardly unique case. You
Dean Foster made it quite clear to anyone capable of reading between the
lines that she has been infected. I am truly sorry." Ashamed at the
way he had treated his visitor, Cody now strove to make amends. "Look, I'm
sorry if I
was a little abrupt with you at first. You have to understand that in the
course of trying to get help for Kelli, I've had to deal with a lot of people
who were pretty shaky upstairs."
"I am not offended, Cody." Raising the umbrella, the elderly German
pointed toward the other end of the house. "You will now offer me
something to eat and drink. Noth-ing too heavy, please, and tea
would be nice."
Cody immediately started toward the kitchen. "Com-ing from Europe, I would've
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thought you'd prefer coffee."
"I would," Oelefse conceded, "if I could find an Amer-ican who knew
how to make it. Tea will be fine."
Rummaging through the filthy, half-abandoned kitchen, the archaeologist
managed to find both tea bags and a box of cookies that was not too far past
the expiration date stamped on the wrapping. When the tea was ready, he
brought it and the accompaniments into the den, to find his visitor blithely
reading through a stack of mag-azines.
"Nothing in any of those." Cody put the tray down atop the pile of
books that concealed the coffee table.
"Sugar?"
"I will help myself." Putting the magazines aside, Oelefse resumed his seat.
His manner in preparing his tea was as precise as everything else about him,
his move-ments almost dainty. He ate and drank with the air of an impoverished
aristocrat. "Nothing for you, my friend?"
"Me? Oh, yeah." Revisiting the kitchen, the archaeologist returned with an
open beer. This he used to salute his guest. "To your health."
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"Prosit. " The elderly gentleman gestured slightly with his cup of tea. "You
Americans do not know how to make beer, either."
"I hereby apologize in advance for all my country's deficiencies." Cody
struggled to rein in his impatience.
"How can you help KelliT'
"First I must see her. In your communication you stated that she lies in a
comatose state."
Cody nodded. "She breathes on her own, and she's getting fluids and
sustenance intravenously. Her body seems to be processing everything
properly, but her blood pressure lately has been trending downward." He bit
back the lump in his throat. "The doctors try to be reassuring, but I can see
that they aren't hopeful."
"Why should they be?" Oelefse spoke with uncon-scious coldness. "They cannot
know what is wrong with her. I must see her."
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