"Bottom line. Really bottom line," Nathan said with authority.
Chapter 13
The Muswassers arrived six hours late. First, they had gotten lost and wound up in Pennsylvania instead of Massachusetts. Then they had seen a theater playing their all-time favorite movie, The China Syndrome, so they stopped to see it for the twenty-seventh time.
When Perriweather met them at the door of his home, they offered him a flurry of secret handshakes. He politely refused them all so they shook each other's hands.
Perriweather escorted them into a sparsely furnished room in a far wing of the mansion.
"Wait till you hear our idea, Wally boy," said Gloria expansively.
"I'm sure it will be wonderful."
"We're sorry about the TNT and the atomic bomb. They just didn't work and we feel bad about it," Nathan said.
"You mustn't feel bad. After all, look at all the chimpanzees you helped destroy by getting that package delivered to Uwenda," Perriweather said sarcastically.
"Well, not as good as delegates directly," Gloria said. "But at least the chimps killed some of the delegates. That was good."
"It certainly was," Perriweather said agreeably. "So good that I thought you ought to be rewarded."
"That's real nice, Wally," Gloria said.
"Would you two care for a glass of sherry?" Perriweather asked.
"Got any weed?" Nathan said before his wife elbowed him in the ribs.
"Sherry'd be fine," Gloria said.
Perriweather nodded. "Good. I'll be right back. Wait here for me and then I'll show you how you're going to fit into our great new plan of attack." He closed the door to the room behind him as he went out.
Gloria and Nathan roamed around the room with its two metal chairs and small plastic Parsons table. "Look at this," Nathan said. He picked up a framed object from the table and handed it to Gloria. It was a collection of little human-shaped dolls speared through their torsos with pins, their arms and legs splayed wide like the appendages of insects in a display cage. "He's buggy," Nathan whispered. "Don't tell me."
"He's into bugs," Gloria said.
"I thought the Species Liberation Alliance meant animals," Nathan said. "Like puppies and things. Harp seals. Endangered species. Who the hell ever endangered a bug species?"
"That's because you're narrow-minded," Gloria said. "Bugs are animals. They sure aren't vegetable or mineral. And since Perriweather's been putting up all the money for the SLA, I guess he ought to have a say in what we try to liberate."
"Yeah, but bugs aren't cute," Nathan said as he put the display case back on the table. "Ever try to snuggle up to a mosquito?"
"That's your bourgeois unliberated upbringing," Gloria said. "You have to learn to accept bugs as your equals."
The library door opened a crack and a tiny buzzing creature flew in. The door closed sharply behind it, and Gloria heard a sound like two heavy bolts sliding into place inside the door.
"What's that?" Nathan said.
"It's a fly," Gloria said. "It's got red wings."
"Maybe it's a pet. Maybe it wants to be friends." The fly was circling around Nathan's head. "Go ahead, Nathan. Hold out your hand to it."
"It wants to crap on my hand," Nathan said.
"Nathan," Gloria said menacingly.
"Ah, I never met a fly that wanted to shake hands before," Nathan said.
"That was in the old days. Our whole way of thinking about our insect friends has to change," Gloria said.
"All right, all right," Nathan said.
"Go ahead. Give the fly your hand."
"What if he bites it?"
"Stupid. Little flies don't bite."
"Some of them do," Nathan said.
"What of it? Maybe he needs the nourishment. You wouldn't want it to starve, would you? For lack of a little blood when you've got so much of it?"
"I guess not," Nathan said miserably and held out his arm.
"That's better," Gloria said. "Come on, little fly. We'll call him Red. Come on, Red. Come say hello to Gloria and Daddy Nathan."
The fly landed in the crook of Nathan's elbow. From outside the door to the room, Waldron Perriweather III heard a shriek, then a growl. And then another shriek as Gloria too was bitten.
He slid shut yet a third steel bolt in the door, patted the door, and a thin smile creased his face.
* * *
Dr. Dexter Morley was frantic when he burst into Perriweather's study.
"They're gone. Both of them. I just went to the bathroom for a moment and when I came back they were gone."
"I have the flies," Perriweather said.
"Oh. Thank heavens. I was so worried. Where are they?"
"I told you I'd take care of them." Perriweather's eyes were like ice.
"Yes, sir," Morley said. "But you've got to be really careful with them. The're very dangerous."
Although the ice-blue eyes were still frozen, Perriweather's lips formed a tight smile. "You've achieved quite a milestone, Doctor," he said.
Morley fidgeted. Praise seemed not to belong on Perriweather's lips. He nodded because he did not know what else to do.
"You asked me, Doctor, how I had produced the other changes in that fly. The ability to bite and its effect on creatures that it did bite."
"Yes. I am really interested in that."
"The truth is, Doctor . . ." Perriweather rose to his feet. "I've taken the liberty of inviting a few friends over to help us celebrate. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Of course not."
"They're waiting for us. Why don't we walk over there?" Perriweather said. He clapped a big hand on Dr. Morley's shoulder and steered the scientist toward the door. As they walked, he continued talking.
"Actually, I had another scientist working earlier for me," Perriweather said. "Those two breakthroughs were his. But he could never come up with the big breakthrough. That honor was reserved for you."
"Thank you. That's very kind. Who was the other scientist?" Morley asked.
Perriweather paused with Morley outside a door. Quietly he began to slide back the bolts in the door. "Yes, it was a great achievement," Perriweather said. "You've made the new species unkillable and that should put your name in the honor rolls of science for all time. You made only one little mistake."
"Oh, what was that?"
"You said the flies should be ready to breed in a few weeks?"
"Yes."
"They already have and we've got pretty little maggots already growing on that piece of meat."
"Oh my God. They've got to be destroyed. If one gets out ... they've got to be destroyed."
"Wrong again, Dr. Morley. You've got to be destroyed."
He pulled the door open, pushed the scientist inside, and slammed the door shut, pushing the bolts back in place.
There were growls, no longer recognizable as the voices of Gloria and Nathan Muswasser. Then there was a scream, a thump and the sickening sound of flesh being torn from bone.
Perriweather knew the sound. He pressed his ear to the door and reveled in it. As a child, he had once torn the flesh from a cat in the gardener's toolshed. He had found some carpenter's tools, a vise and a clamp, and had used them to dismember the animal. The cat had sounded like that too. And Perriweather had felt the same satisfaction then.
He'd caught the cat playing with a spiderweb. The cat had trapped the spider and had been playing with it as if it were some kind of toy. He had taught the cat a lesson. And then, when the gardener had caught him with the bloody cat in his hands, he had taught the gardener a lesson too.
The gardener had tried to untangle the dead cat from the clamps and while he was working and muttering that young Waldron was going to learn the difference between right and wrong, by God, the boy had calmly and silently moved a stool behind the old man, climbed on it, lifted a brick over his head and smashed it into the spotted, white-haired skull. Then he had set fire to the shed and that was the end of the gardener. Along with all his insecticides and poisons.