“Leave me alone, Walt. Please. Just leave me alone.”
“Honey, I... this can really be a big thing. Bigger than the Senso. Van says it’s the greatest, honey. Really the greatest. He says... he says he wants you on it, honey. He says...” Walt turned away from the doors and bit his lip. He shook his head, and Van saw the tears spilling over his cheeks. He faced the doors again. “Lois?”
“Walt, please.”
“But honey, I’m serious; this is something that can make both of us, something...”
“He’s right,” Van shouted. He walked quickly to the balcony doors, and Liz followed him. He put his face close to the metal and said, “Lois, this is Van. Come on inside, baby; we’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing.”
“Lois, we’ve got something here that’s screaming for your brand of scribing. Baby, this is the biggest...”
“Nothing,” she repeated. “Nothing. All gone.”
Van turned to Alloway. “She sounds like she’s snapped her wig,” he whispered.
“Listen,” Liz said sharply. They listened, and the sound of sirens filled the room, piling up below.
“The police,” Walt said. “They’re back. Thank God. Thank G...”
“What’s that?” Lois shrieked.
“Honey...”
“Why did you call them? Why? Why?” Her voice was high now, strident, almost unintelligible. “Oh God, haven’t I had enough?”
“Lois...”
“Stay away,” she screamed.
They heard a scuffle on the balcony outside.
“She’s climbing the rail,” Liz said, horror in her voice.
“Lois!” Walt shouted.
“Stay away! Stay away!”
Van threw his shoulder against the locked doors. The duraloid held, and he bounced back, bracing himself for another fling.
“No! Don’t come near me!”
He hit the door again, and this time the snap bolt broke. The doors flew wide, and the cold air rushed into the room. She was poised on the railing of the balcony. Her red hair fanned out behind her head, captured by the wind, slapping against her face, her neck. Her breasts were bare, and she wore lace shorts that showed the long line of her leg. Her eyes were wide and blank, filled with fear, deeply sunk in shadowed pockets.
She screamed “No!” and Van lurched across the balcony, reaching for her as she leaped.
His outstretched fingers touched the skin on her ankle, and he thought he had her. But then the feel of her flesh was gone, and there was only cold air in his hands. The scream invaded the air, high, hysterical; it hung there for a moment, and then broke into a thousand brittle fragments that hurtled for the level below.
“Lois!” Alloway shouted. He ran onto the balcony, gripped the railing, his knuckles showing white. He looked over the edge; the scream ended abruptly, seemed to hold on the air for a second, and then was replaced by a deep silence.
He stood looking over the balcony. The silence ended as suddenly as it had begun, broken by the hum of voices from the level below.
Alloway turned slowly, the tears drying on his cheeks. The wind caught at his hair. “I loved her,” he said.
“Walt...”
“I loved her.”
His eyes met Brant’s, and held them tightly. “You killed her, Van,” he said. “You know that.”
“Walt, I was trying to...”
“Not now. That’s not what I mean, Van. That’s not what I mean at all. You killed her when you hired her for the Senso; you killed her when you turned her Vike. You killed her, Van.” He began crying again, and the tears spilled freely down his cheeks. His face twisted grotesquely; his shoulders and chest heaved, and he spoke in anguished sobs. “The biggest thing on the scene, you said...”
The biggest thing on the scene...
“Set the industry solid, you said...”
Set the industry...
“Something new, something tremendous...”
Something new...
“You sucked her in, Van. You sucked her in, and you killed her. You and your damned Senso. You and your goddamned Senso.”
Senso. Senso. Senso.
“And I loved her. Van, Van, I loved her. I loved her.”
He buried his face in his hands, and he sobbed bitterly.
But Van Brant wasn’t listening any more.
Chapter 16
He went to see Dino Pelazi the next day. He still could not think clearly enough to transact any important business, but he was not going there on business. Nor was Van Brant going to beg or plead.
He went simply to tell Pelazi what he was going to do. He went there to spit in his gloating face.
Pelazi wasn’t gloating, though. He was sitting seriously behind his severe desk. His white hair was slightly disarrayed, and he stroked his black spade beard, with forced concentration.
“Mr. Brant,” he said.
“Mr. Pelazi,” Van answered.
“Sit down, won’t you?” Pelazi did not smile. He offered the chair, and Van took it, making himself comfortable.
“Cigarette?” Pelazi asked. He reached for a box on the desk, extended it to Van.
“Thank you.” Brant took a cigarette, hung it on his lips. Pelazi leaned over and lit it. Van blew out a wreath of smoke.
“What can I do for you?” Pelazi asked.
“I came to congratulate you.”
Pelazi’s eyebrows climbed onto his forehead. “Oh? I’m surprised.”
“You needn’t be. I admire clear thinking in business. Even when it’s dirty business. Your thinking was clear, Pelazi, right down the line. You couped us, and you screwed us, and you didn’t bother taking off our pants. You were very shrewd.”
“Thank you.”
“No,” Van said, “thank you.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“You taught us a lesson, Pelazi. You showed us what the Rees could do if they put their minds to it Your cover plan was a stroke of genius.”
“Thank you.”
“Was it very hard to raise the money you needed?”
“At times, yes. I wanted it desperately, though. You mustn’t forget that; a man will do anything when he wants something badly enough.”
“Why? Why’d you want it so desperately? Power, Pelazi? Was that it? Power for the sake of power?”
Pelazi smiled thinly. “No; you’re mistaken.”
“Am I?”
“I’m afraid so. All I wanted was...”
“All right,” Van interrupted, “you’ve got it all now. Right in the palm of your fat Realist fist. But we’re not through, Pelazi. I came to tell you that you’d better enjoy yourself while you can.”
The abrupt change in Brant’s manner surprised Pelazi. He sighed and said, “Couldn’t we possibly...”
“Listen to me, Pelazi, and I’ll tell you something. I’ll tell you something because it doesn’t matter any more. You were shrewd, very shrewd; but we were shrewder. You were laying your plans, but we’d already formed ours. And maybe your cover plan helped you, but it helped us, too — because it took your attention away from the big thing we had. You bought out everything you could get your claws on, everything you knew about. You used fat Realist dollars, and all the Vike suckers grabbed on fast. If you offer a man enough, he’ll sell his own mother.”
“Not all men.”
“All men,” Van corrected. “You offered a pile, and the pile was grabbed. You bought what you saw, and you bought correctly, because your reasoning was sound: Scoop up the entertainment and publishing, and you control the thinking habits. Squash the drugs, and you’ve won the first major victory. What’s next, Pelazi? Advertising?”
“We’ve just about cornered that, Brant. You’re not in the field, so you wouldn’t know. We’ve been working hard.”
“And all for nothing.”