They're right, he thought. Doc Sign and Father Faine; it's a hell of a medical risk and an outright breaking of the law: not just God's law but the civil code. I know all that, he thought; they don't have to tell me. My own crew, he thought gloomily, and they're not backing me up.
Lotta will, he realized. That, he could always count on: her support. She would understand; he couldn't risk not digging the Anarch up. To leave him here was to invite Ray Roberts' Offspring of Might in for a murder. A good excuse, he thought wryly. I can rationalize it: it's for the Anarch's safety.
Just how dangerous, he wondered once more, is Ray Roberts? We still don't know; we're still going on 'pape articles.
Returning to his parked aircar he dialed his home phone number.
"Hello," Lotta's small-girl voice sounded, intimidated by the phone; then she saw him and smiled. "Another job?" She could see the graveyard behind him. "I hope this is a valuable one."
Sebastian said, "Listen, honey--I hate to do this to you, but I don't have the time to do it myself; we're all tied up here with this job, and after him--" He hesitated. "Then we've got another waiting," he said, not telling her who it would be.
"What would you like?" She listened attentively.
"Another research assignment at the Library."
"Oh." She managed--nearly--not to show her dismay. "Yes, I'd be glad to."
"This time we want to know the story on Ray Roberts."
"I'll do it," Lotta said, "if I can."
"How do you mean, if you can?"
Lotta said, "I get--an anxiety attack there."
"I know," he said, and felt the fullness of his injury to her.
"But I guess I can do it one more time." She nodded, drably.
"Remember, absolutely remember," he said, "to stay away from that monster Mavis McGuire." If you can, he thought.
All at onde Lotta brightened. "Joe Tinbane just now did a research of Ray Roberts. Maybe I can get it from him." Her face showed utter, blissful relief. "I won't have to go there, then."
"Agreed," Sebastian said. Why not? It made sense, the Los Angeles police researching Roberts; after all, the man was about to show up in their jurisdictional area. Tinbane probably had everything there was; to be harsh about it, he had probably done--God forbid, but it was undoubtedly true--he had done a better job at the Library than Lotta could ever do.
As he rang off he thought, I hope to hell she can get hold of Joe Tinbane. But he doubted it; the police were undoubtedly extremely busy right now; Tinbane was probably tied up for the rest of the day.
He had a feeling that Lotta was in for bad luck; very soon and in large measure. And, thinking that, he ffinched; he felt it for her.
And felt even more guilty.
Walking back to his crew of employees at the open grave he said, "Let's try to get this one wrapped up fast. So we can get on to the important one." He had definitely made up his mind; they would exhume the body of the Anarch, now, on this trip.
He hoped he would not live to regret it. But he had a deep and abiding hunch that he would.
And yet still--to him, at least--it seemed like the best thing to do. He could not shake that conviction.
7
You and I, when we argue, are made in each other. For when I understand what you understand, I become your understanding, and am made in you, in a certain ineffable way.
--Erigena
Out cruising his beat in his roving prowlcar, Officer Joseph Tinbane got the call over the police radio. "A Mrs. Lotta Hermes asks you to get in touch with her. Is this police business?"
"Yes," he said, lying; what else could he say. "Okay," he said, "I'll phone her. I have the number; thanks."
He waited until four o'clock, the end of his shift, and then, out of uniform, called her from a pay vidphone booth.
"I'm so relieved to hear from you," Lotta said. "You know what? We have to get all the info we can on that Ray Roberts who heads that Udi cult. You were just at the Library looking him up, and I thought I could get it from you and not have to go back to the Library." She gazed at him entreatingly. "I've already gone there once today; I just can't go back, it's so awful, everybody looking at you, and you have to be quiet."
Tinbane said, "I'll meet you for a tube of sogum. At Sam's Sogum Palace; do you know where that is, and can you get there?"
"And then you'll tell me all about Ray Roberts? It's getting late in the day; I'm afraid the Library will be closing. And then I Won't be able to--"
"I can tell you all you need to know," Tinbane said. And a great deal more besides, he thought.
He hung up, then buzzed over to Sam's Sogum Palace on Vine. As yet, Lotta had not arrived; he took a booth in the rear where he could watch the door. And presently she appeared, wearing a much too large wintery coat, eyes dark with concern; glancing about, she made her way hesitantly into the palace, not seeing him, afraid he wasn't really there, etc. So he rose, waved to her.
"I brought a pen and paper to write it down." She seated herself breathlessly across from him, so pleased to find him... as if it was a miracle, some special dispensation of fate, that they had contrived to appear at the same place at roughly the same time.
"Do you know why I wanted to meet you here?" he said. "And be with you? Because," he said, "I'm falling in love with you."
"Oh God," she said. "Then I have to go to the Library after all." She leaped up, picked up her pen and paper and purse.
Also standing, he assured her, "That doesn't mean I don't have the info on Ray Roberts or won't give it to you. Sit down. Be calm; it's all right. I just thought I should tell you."
"How can you be in love with me?" she said, reseating herself. "I'm so awful. And anyhow I'm married."
"You're not awful," he said. "And marriages are made and broken; they're a civil contract, like a partnership. They begin; they end. I'm married, too."
"I know," Lotta said. "Whenever we run across you you're always talking about how mean she is. But I love Seb; he's my whole life. He's so responsible." She gazed at him attentively. "Are you really in love with me? Honestly? That's sort of flattering." It seemed, somehow, to make her more at ease; plainly it reassured her. "Well, let's have all the data on that creepy Ray Roberts. Is he really as bad as the 'papes say? You know why Sebastian wants the info on him, don't you? I guess it won't hurt to tell you; you already know the one secret thing I wasn't supposed to say. He wants the info on Roberts because--"
"I know why," Tinbane said, reaching out and toucbmg her hand; she drew it away instantly. "I mean," he said, "we all want to know Roberts' reaction to Peak's rebirth. But it's a police matter; as soon as Peak is old-born it's automatically our responsibility to protect him. If my superiors knew your vitarium had located Peak's body they'd send in their own team to dig him right up." He paused. "If that happened, your husband would take a great loss. I haven't told Gore. George Gore is my superior in this. I probably should." He waited, studying her.
"Thank you," Lotta said. "For not telling Mr. Gore."
He said, "But I may have to."
"At the Library you said it was as if I hadn't told you; you said, 'Don't even tell me,' meaning that officially as a policeman you hadn't heard me. If you tell Mr. Gore--" She blinked rapidly. "Sebastian will figure out how you found out; he knows how dumb I am; I'm always the one; it's always me."
"Don't say that. You're just not constituted for deceit; you say what's on your mind, which is normal and natural. You're an admirable person and very lovely. I admire your honesty. But it is true. Your husband would be sore as hell."
"He'll probably divorce me. Then you can divorce your wife and marry me."
He started; was she joking? He couldn't tell. Lotta Hermes was a deep river, unfathomable. "Stranger things," he said cautiously, "have happened."