Oath of Fealty Read online

  "Yeah. I should have fought harder."

  "Why? Are you trying to bar Death from Todos Santos?"

  Rand let out a great gust of a sigh. "Maybe. Maybe I am. But I put an undertaker in here … no, I didn't. It's one of the things I forgot. Barbara Churchward put an undertaker in a month after we opened. Financed him."

  She had him by the shoulders and was trying to shake him. "People die, Tony. They die."

  He laughed. "Do you know what Pres would say? He'd say I'm flying a starship in my head. He'd say I just planned to drop the deceased out of the airlocks."

  "Would a Civil Defense Alert break Pres out?"

  "Oh …" It was getting hard to think. In theory an Irish coffee was the perfect drink for this kind of work. It released your imagination without letting you sleep. "I'd think the rest of the United States would get really irritated if we did that. Besides, how would we get to him in the traffic jam? No, scratch that one."

  She studied him for a moment. Then she stepped to the phone to order more drinks. They waited, and she watched him.

  "Nothing up my sleeves," Tony said. "I'm out of ideas, Delores. Sorry."

  "I didn't mean to shoot you down," she said.

  Tony shrugged.

  The drinks came. She handed him his, sipped from her own. Then she moved behind him and began to knead his neck and shoulders. She had strong hands. "You're all knotted up," she said. It felt good. His tension started to melt beneath her fingers. "Did I do that to you?"

  "We've got to think of something. Maybe I shouldn't have shot you down every time. Tony, what if I just ask for a dozen ways to get Pres out of the damned jail. And no remarks from me."

  "It isn't that."

  "Well, what is it, then?"

  The edges of Delores' hands drummed on his shoulder muscles, almost viciously, but it felt good. It put a vibrato in Tony's voice. "I almost got seduced by my wife."

  The rhythm broke. "What did you say?"

  "Ex-wife. I went to see Pres, but visiting hours weren't until four o'clock. So I set it up with Genevieve to drop by and visit my son. I got there and Zachary wasn't home yet, it says here. I don't know what kind of a damned fool she thinks I am, but she could prove it in court. She had me taking off my clothes before she asked for any promises."

  Delores said, "Take off your shirt and lie down on your belly. On the floor."

  He did. She knelt above his hips and went to work on his lower back. Tony sprawled out with a long sigh. "I bet I impressed her, though," he said. "I not only walked out of her bedroom, I waited in the living room and drank coffee and made conversation until Zach came home. I think he saw some tension, though. He's eleven, and he's bright. He knows there's something wrong."

  Delores was running her thumbs along the edges of his scapulae and on up to the base of his skull, digging in hard. "What does she want?"

  "She wants to move in here. Over my dead body she will. When I wasn't getting rich and famous fast enough, she walked out on me, taking my son and custody of the money. Now there's no place safe outside ... umph ... except the place I built, you should pardon my natural egotism."

  "She's not after more money?"

  "She'd better not be! She had a sharp lawyer for the divorce. Claimed that since she put me through architecture and engineering school, she had a right to a percentage of my income forever. Got some kind of sliding-scale alimony deal. She lives damn well. Doesn't work. Well, to be fair about it, she's on a dozen civic committees and things. Toyed around with the FROMATES back when we were first building Todos Santos-"

  "I wouldn't think an ecosimp would want to live here." Delores kneaded the shoulder muscles, working from outside in, then back out again.

  "Ah, give her credit. She didn't stay with that crowd very long."

  "Tony, it doesn't add up-"

  "What doesn't?"

  "If Zach is eleven-haven't you been here longer than that?"

  "Yeah. What happened was I got through engineering school and wanted to study architecture. She didn't like that much. Wanted to quit work, start moving up in the world. But she put up with it for a while, until I got the chance to spend a year at Arcosanti-"

  "That didn't pay enough?" Delores guessed.

  "Didn't pay at all. I had to pay to go there. Paolo never did have a lot of money. So Genevieve walked out and started the divorce. While that was dragging through the courts I got lucky on the Orange County job. You may have heard about that. I was a new associate when the firm's senior people bought it in a plane crash, and I was able to convince the clients that I could finish the project, and I did, and Art Bonner liked the work and he talked to the Romulus Board ..." His voice trailed off sleepily, and he yawned. "A week after the divorce was final, I ran into Genevieve at a cocktail party and one thing led to another." He writhed at the memory. "We had a lot of problems, but incompatibility wasn't one of them."

  She let him chatter on while she pounded on his back.

  "Zach isn't even mine," Tony said. "Well, I mean he is mine. The blood types match, and you'd know it just looking at him anyway. But legally he was conceived out of wedlock, and I don't have any claim on him at all."

  "I'm surprised you didn't remarry."

  "Delores, the morning after Zach was conceived, a dozen Sierra Club people came to her apartment for an emergency strategy meeting. The emergency was Todos Santos. The goddam chapter president had a key to her apartment! I walked out screaming, and didn't take any phone calls. Zach was six months old before I knew he existed. Hey, that feels wonderful." But talking about Djinn is not relaxing, he thought. Not at all. Damn, she almost had me today. I wonder if she's still as ... oh, crap.

  "Take off your pants."

  He craned to look over his shoulder. "My legs are tense? Or-" He didn't bother to finish. Delores had taken off the tops of her hostess pajamas and was taking off the bottoms.

  Tony rolled over. "I hope I remember how to do this," he said.

  There was no pale skin on Delores, no mark of a bathing suit. Either she sunbathed nude on her porch, or not at all. Her skin was smooth and hot to the touch. "Now, that can hardly be called premature ejaculation," Tony said, "considering I've been thinking about it for several years now."

  She laughed softly. "It's always better the second time. Do you feel like scratching my back?"

  Any excuse to touch you, he thought. Should he say that? "Any excuse to touch you," and he ran his fingernails in large, luxurious circles, gradually descending. Djinn had always liked that. Bloody hell, what a time to think of her. But she's the only woman I've ever been really intimate with. Intimate, as opposed to-what? Is this intimacy?

  She moved and made purring sounds when he reached the swell of her buttocks. "Erogenous zone, mark," he said.

  "Check. I bet I can find yours."

  They made love again, and it was better. Good the first time, better the second, and how long could they keep that up? She left him flat on his back, checked their Irish coffees and found them cold, and ordered fresh.

  One more datum for the bartender, Tony thought. He rolled on one elbow to watch her as she walked about the apartment, naked. She was as he had imagined her when she wore the orange hostess pajamas, except that she had been wearing a bra and panties. She came back, found him ready, spread him flat on his back to reverse their positions. They were at climax when the Irish coffees arrived, and the table dinged to announce the fact, and Tony started laughing and couldn't stop. Would Todos Santos be pleased that Rand and Delores - the court magician and the keeper of the privy seal - were in love? Likely they would.

  He sipped Irish coffee and contemplated her back and the world was a nice place to live in.

  "Where did you meet her?" Delores asked softly.

  "Tenth grade algebra class - uh, who?"

  "Never mind."

  The sky was gray with dawn, and they'd finished another round of drinks, and she still hadn't mentioned Preston Sanders, and Tony Rand wasn't sleepy at all. "Let's lay do
wn some rules," he said. "First, we want something we can back out of. Second, we don't mind using Todos Santos equipment, if that's what it takes, and if we can say it was stolen. Third, we involve as few people as possible. We use only people near the top."

  She nodded. At no time did she seem puzzled at what he might be talking about. And then he knew. Their love affair was several hours old now, and it was going just fine. But it had started when Delores decided that Tony Rand had to be jarred loose from his depression ... somehow.

  And it's still felony conspiracy.

  Damn Lunan. Resident magician? Everyone who saw that show would know who planned the jailbreak. But if I stop planning now ... or just keep my mouth shut?

  He was kneeling cross-legged on the bed, looking down at his feet. He didn't have to look up. He knew that Delores was waiting, cross-legged herself, the mingled sweat drying on her, her expression serious, waiting.

  Dammit, nobody can command a genius to make new inventions. Nader tried that on General Motors. General Motors made a car that wouldn't start unless the seat belt was fastened, and sometimes not even then, and some woman got raped by four big men because she couldn't start her car fast enough to drive away from them, and it almost happened to Djinn that time the purse snatcher chased her except she had the spray can of toilet bowl cleaner-fah.

  All I've got to say is- "I've got part of an answer," he said, and now he was committed. The dawn light showed her joy, and she was beautiful. "I've got to talk about it with someone. And I've got to know where they're holding Pres. To the centimeter. My problem is, do I involve you? You'd be a co-conspirator."

  "Come on, Tony!" Her hands on his hands. "I'm in. What are we going to do?"

  He told her. She started laughing, and he joined her.

  XIII. SCHEMES

  'Tis not what man does which exalts him, but what man would do!

  -Robert Browning, Saul

  Genevieve Rand woke to the realization that there was a man in her bed. It took her a moment to remember who it was, and she almost laughed aloud, because it wasn't all that usual. A woman with an eleven-year-old boy didn't get too many opportunities to begin with, and although Genevieve had - in her view anyway - far more than her share of sexual drive, she was also rather particular about her bed partners.

  Arnold Renn had looked better in the dark. This morning his mouth was open and he snored gently. Genevieve tried to sit up, and her head pounded. Another unusual situation. Slowly it came back to her. Tony's visit. Damn. I almost had him. So close. Then that goddam pride, his and mine both, that always got in our way when what we both wanted to do was hop in the sack and make believe it was an old Chevrolet van stuck in a snowdrift in Minnesota and we thought we'd better share blankets or we'd freeze and neither one of us knew anything about how to do it but we managed damned nicely anyway thank you, and- A long time ago.

  But it wasn't Minnesota and we weren't in twelfth grade, and yesterday wasn't an accident. Yesterday would have been the most deliberate seduction in history. If it had worked. And I almost had him. If I could have kept my goddam mouth shut! Who was the idiot who said honesty was the best policy? But - But would it have been any good to get Tony in the sack for a fast lay? Maybe it was better this way. I didn't get him, but do I want him for a half-hour stand with Zach coming home- Arnold had showed up the morning after Zach was conceived. If it hadn't been for Arnold Renn and his goddam key to the apartment, Zach would have a father.

  Not fair. Arnold picked up the pieces when Tony walked out. And he's never demanded anything, and he was here to pick up the pieces last night, too. I am a desirable woman. I am, dammit! I know I am. But Tony sure didn't let me think so. He didn't say I was a scheming old witch, but he might as well have.

  Tony left, and Zach got an invitation to an all-night camp-out treasure hunt, and the bottle of bourbon was half-empty when Arnold dropped by for the first time in a year, and even then he wouldn't have got anywhere except that documentary came on and there was Tony looking so flipping smug.

  Under her breath she said, "Court magician, forsooth!" and got up and went to the kitchen. Her thoughts ran on: Court magician, and what am I? And what is Zach? And even if Tony doesn't care for me anymore (and he does, he does, damn it, I can feel it, I know he does) he sure as hell ought to feel something for Zach.

  Nine A.M. Zach wouldn't be home before noon, so there was time. She was damned if she'd let Zach find Professor Arnold Renn in their apartment. Or anybody else, for that matter, but especially Renn. Zach would probably get out that pellet gun Tony gave him for his last birthday if he thought he could get at Dr. Renn. Zach tended to worship his father (and I've never tried to change that, it's not like a lot of divorced couples where there's competition for affection, I want Zach to like his father, but Tony's never thought about that and never will).

  She began breakfast, and the smell of eggs Benedict brought Arnold sleepy eyed and unshaven to the table in an old dressing gown that he'd brought over a dozen years before and she'd never quite got around to throwing out even after Arnold married. He'd never looked less attractive, but Genevieve didn't resist when he kissed her. He was dutiful, not passionate, so there wasn't a fight, although she wouldn't have minded having a fight and getting him out of her life forever, except- Except what? she wondered as she sat across the table from him. Except that he can make me feel wanted? There are other men who can do that, why keep this one around? He's persistent, I'll say that - "Arnold, why did you come over yesterday?" she asked.

  He looked puzzled. "I hadn't seen you in a while and I missed you. Why?" His puzzled look seemed genuine enough.

  "Oh-I don't know. Tony was over yesterday."

  "Was he, now? To see Zach?"

  "Unfortunately."

  Renn looked pained. "Genevieve, I have never understood your infantile infatuation with that man. You're worth a hundred of him."

  She giggled. "You've made it clear you think he's got a negative worth. What's a hundred times a minus number?"

  He shared her laugh. "You know what I meant." He was silent for a moment. "Genevieve-"

  He'd tried to call her "Ginn" once, and it sounded like Tony's "Djinn," and she couldn't stand that.

  "Genevieve, for God's sake, if you feel that way, why don't you take him back?"

  "Take him back!" She laughed and felt rising hysteria and choked that off so that her voice was calm when she said, "What, and live in the termite hill?"

  "If need be."

  "I thought you Fromates hated that place."

  "I'm not a Fromate. But yes, I disapprove of Todos Santos. For a lot of reasons which I'm sure you're tired of hearing me repeat. I was thinking of you. And your son. I've always loved both of you-"

  I guess you have, she thought. At least enough to ask me to marry you. Several times, in fact.

  And she'd often wondered: did Renn think Zach was his? He could have been. She'd slept with Renn the night before Zach was conceived. And again after Tony walked out. The blood tests made it certain, but Arnold didn't know about them. Was he still wondering?

  "Are you going to see him again?" Renn asked.

  "I doubt it."

  "You ought to. Look, if there's anything I can do to help-"

  "Greater love and all that? You'll help me trap my ex-husband? Regretfully, of course-"

  "Something like that," he said. "I really do want you to be happy."

  "What does Tina think of all this?"

  Renn shrugged. "Tina doesn't interfere."

  He'd tried to speak in a tone of indifference, but his voice was full of irony all the same. Genevieve wondered if the stories she'd heard were true, that Tina slept around, with Arnold's associates and sometimes even with students. She didn't know Arnold's friends anymore; not for years, since she'd quit the Movement. Open marriages were said to be quite common now, but Genevieve didn't know anyone who admitted living that way.

  "Maybe if you moved into Todos Santos," Arnold said. "You'd be closer to him. Ah-
if it's money, I think I could help you."

  "Sure you could. Give me enough to become a stockholder in the Box." Her laugh was bitter. "What's the matter, Arnold? Giving up the crusades?"

  "Damn it, I am trying to put you ahead of ideologies."

  "I guess you are. That's sweet." Also just a little unbelievable, she thought. What has come over him? "Arnold, it's not money. Between what Tony sends and my aunt's legacy I probably could buy enough shares to live in Todos Santos. But Tony doesn't want me there. He'd see me as ~ threat. And, my friend, you don't know what trouble is until you've triggered Anthony Rand's paranoia! No, thanks."

  "So you have to make him want you there," Renn said. "And you have something he wants-I presume he does want Zach? He believes Zach to be his?"