"I do! I saw him in the hall outside her room!"
"And you also saw one of the Twins at the same time."
"And they both fled together."
"Or he chased the Twin."
"If he did, he's crazy."
"Have you ever known the Twins to work with anyone but each other?"
Mauricio looked away. "No," he said sullenly. "Not directly."
They had run down the hall after the stranger and the Twin had disappeared into the stairwell, found Olive's corpse, and quickly moved her here.
"I think there is another explanation. I believe he discovered Olive, saw the Twin, and gave chase."
"Then why didn't he report the body?"
"Perhaps he is a thief and broke into her room to steal. Or perhaps he has a criminal record and was afraid he would be blamed. It does not matter. As far as I am concerned, the very fact that he did not report the body proves that he is not working with the Twins."
"I don't follow."
"Think, Mauricio: Why was Olive Farina mutilated in that fashion? Look at those wounds. Obviously meant to call to mind cattle mutilations and spread panic among our attendees. A discovery like that would disperse them, send them fleeing to the safety of their little homes all over the country."
Mauricio's dark monkey eyes widened. "Do you think the Twins know what we're doing?"
"No. Undoubtedly they know somebody is up to something, but they do not know who, what, or why. Under those circumstances, their best course is to break up the party. They tried, but failed."
"Only by the merest chance. If I hadn't stepped out into the hallway at that moment ... " Mauricio let the rest of the sentence hang.
"True," Roma said, nodding. "But were we lucky ... or guided?"
"We can speculate all day. The question is, what do we do about the stranger?"
"We watch him," Roma said.
"In other words, nothing!" Mauricio said, scorn ripe in his voice as he expanded to true form. He rose on his thicker, stronger legs, showing his fangs and fixing Roma with the ripe strawberries of his eyes. "The stranger calls the tune?"
"Watching is not 'nothing.'"
"And what of tonight's delivery? Do we to let that fall into his hands as well?"
"Do we have a choice?" Roma said. "The Otherness is in charge, do not forget. If the stranger received the shipment, it was not in error. I sense another purpose at work here, one that is compatible with our own."
"I do not," Mauricio said, his voice rising as he banged a large knotty fist on the black-furred barrel of his chest. "Something went wrong last night. I do not intend to allow that to happen a second time."
"Mauricio!" Roma said as the creature slouched toward the door.
"I know of only one way to settle this."
"Wait!"
But Mauricio ignored him. He reached up and turned the doorknob, then shrank again to capuchin form before stepping out into the hall.
"Do not do anything!"
The door slammed, cutting him off. He hurried to the door and pulled it open, but Mauricio was nowhere in sight.
What was that creature thinking? He hoped he was not planning anything rash.
18
Jack felt better halfway through his second pint of Sam Adams. He was ready to polish it off and head for his room when he sensed someone behind him. He turned and found Roma.
"Learn anything in Monroe?" Roma said.
Jeez, Jack thought, annoyed and chagrined, did someone follow me out there? Am I being watched?
"What makes you think I was in Monroe?"
Roma grinned. "I have contacts there. It's a small town, as you know. And when an outsider starts asking about 1968, it doesn't take long for word to get around."
Canfield had probably heard about his visit, and told Roma. That made Jack feel a little better ... he preferred being on the Monroe grapevine to being shadowed.
"Then I guess you know what I found: nada."
"But how did you feel being there?" Roma asked, giving him an intense look.
"Feel? Like I'd wasted my time."
"No, no," he said. "In the air. Did you not feel a residual trace of something strange, something ... Other?"
"'Other?' No. Why should I? First Canfield, now you. What's the story with this 'Other' and 'Otherness' business anyway?"
"It is something that has no rational explanation."
"Oh, well, thanks for clearing that up."
"Surely you've seen things that have no rational explanation."
"Maybe," Jack said, thinking of the creaking hold of a rustbucket freighter filled with cobalt-skinned, shark-headed creatures.
"Not maybe. Definitely. You are much more a part of this than you realize."
Something in Roma's voice stopped Jack, something unsaid. What was he getting at?
"You mean because of my experience?" And at that instant he realized that Roma was the only one who hadn't quizzed him on his cover story. Hadn't even mentioned it.
"Yes, but not the one you've been telling people about. Your other experiencethe one that left you marked by the Otherness."
"Hey, let's not go tying me into any of that stuff."
"You already are."
"Like hell."
"Really? Then what left those scars on your chest?"
An arctic wind seemed to whistle through the bar; Jack could almost feel it rustle his clothes as it chilled his skin.
"How do you know anything about my chest?"
"The Otherness has left its mark on you, my friend. I sensed your contact with it the instant I saw you on the registration line. And when I am this close to you, I can almost see those scars glowing through your shirt."
Just as he'd done the night of the first reception, Roma raised this three middle fingers and hooked them into claws, then made a diagonal slashing motion in the air.
"Like that, yes?" Roma said.
Jack said nothing. His tongue felt like Velcro. He looked down at his shirt front, then back at Roma, remembering how his chest itched both times he'd been in Monroe.
Jack found his voice. "I think we need to have a nice long chat about this sometime."
To Jack's surprise, Roma nodded and said, "How about now?" He pointed to a tiny table in a darkened corner. "Shall we?"
Jack grabbed his beer from the bar and followed him.
As soon as they were seated, Roma said, "You were scarred by a rather formidable creature, yes?"
Jack didn't move, didn't speak. He'd never told a soul about the rakoshi episode. The people closest to him had been a part of it, and they were trying to put it behind them. Anyone who hadn't been part of it would think he was crazy ... would think he belonged in SESOUP. So how the hell could Roma know?
He sipped his beer to wet his tongue. "You've seen one?"
"Seen one?" Roma grinned. "I was present when the Otherness conceived them."
Jack gave a mental whistle. This guy was as loony as the rest of them. Loonier, maybe. But he did know things he had no right knowing.
"Were you now?" Jack said. "You and this Otherness thing."
"The Otherness is not a thing."
"Then what is it? Besides a word, I mean?"
Roma stared at him. "You really don't know, do you."
"Know what?"
"Never mind. As for defining the Otherness, I doubt very much you can grasp the answer."
"Humor me."
"Very well. Let me see ... one might describe the Otherness as a being, or a state of being, or even a whole other reality."
"That narrows it down."
"Try this then: Let us just say there is this dark intelligence, this entity somewhere that is"
"Where?"
"Somewheresomewhere else. Everywhere and nowhere. But put aside the where for the moment and concentrate on this force's relationship with humanity."