Firefly. Part 18

"Thank you," May said, still awed by the facet of the woman's character that had been revealed. She had thought of Jade Brown as a mouse, and had hoped to bring some little pleasure into her life, but now realized that none was some other type of creature. For as she had told of the various characters in the mythology, she had emulated them, becoming none, Paris, Hera, Athene, and Aphrodite. For a moment she had even been the bare-breasted messenger-G.o.ddess. The woman lived her story. Now, with her Paris dead, was she determined to die herself? May was very much afraid that the woman's ready adaptation to this new situation was because she believed she had no future. Why grieve for others when your own life is ending?

The two of them went out, and in a moment May heard the station wagon start up and move off. She was alone.

She roused herself and went to the door. It was deep dusk now; and darker in the house. She hadn't noticed, as none told her story, but now she felt vulnerable. Her innards seemed to have settled down, but she had no confidence of health. none had helped her use the toilet, but it wasn't merely bruising, outside or in, that concerned her.

She closed the door and turned back into the house. She found a light switch and flicked it. Then light came on. Thank G.o.d Mid kept the power on out here!

She returned to the mattress. There lay the book they had brought her. Well, she needed something to distract her. She eased herself down, picked it up, and began to read. It turned out to be true to its t.i.tle: a fantasy of a world which had been shattered into many fragments, all moving along more or less together, with people living on the various pieces.

Shattered, she thought. Like her life. Like none's life. A firefly had come to destroy none's family, and a different monster had come to destroy May's current life.

She couldn't concentrate long on the reading. Her attention kept hovering like a vulture, waiting to light on a forbidden topic. The thing that loomed worst now. Finally she gave up and confronted it.

The word was AIDS. Bull had raped her a.n.a.lly. Had it been just to degrade her-or had he been out to kill her? If he had AIDS...

How could she know? It would take months or years to manifest, and then it would be too late. In fact, it was too late now, if she had it.

Which meant she could do nothing about it, and should put it out of her mind. But how much more readily decided than done!

She got up and went to the kitchen, where she fixed herself milk and bread and jam; that was the extent of her gustatory ambition at present. Then she returned to the mattress, lay down, and slept.

In the morning she used the facilities again, and ate another anemic meal. She wasn't feeling better, but at least she wasn't feeling worse.

She stepped outside the cabin and took a slow walk around the immediate premises. There was a huge twisted-trunked red cedar tree right beside the cabin, overshadowing it, and a kind of earthen pier projecting into the river. It was actually a rather nice region, excellent for both hiding and convalescing. There were giant spiderwebs in an old shed nearby, complete with the biggest spiders she could remember seeing, and a phenomenally colored gra.s.shopper. This was the heart of nature.

Then there was a motion. She was startled, then saw that it was two brown ponies, one large, one small. They approached her cautiously, as if hoping for a treat but aware that strangers were not to be perfectly trusted.

She smiled and returned to the cabin. She grabbed two slices of bread and took them out. She proffered them to the ponies, who abruptly decided that she was a friend. This was the way to start a morning!

Abruptly the ponies turned away, retreating nervously. "What's the matter?" she asked.

Then she heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle. Oh-someone was coming. They had heard it before she did.

She retreated to the house and watched from the window, just in case. It turned out to be two vehicles: Geode's wagon and Cyrano's van. What was Cyrano doing here?

none jumped out of the station wagon and ran to her. She was in one of the dresses May had brought for her, and looked fluffy and fetching. In fact, she was surprisingly pretty, almost nymphlike. May was almost certain now that things were working out between her and Geode. Maybe the woman wasn't thinking of death, but of a new life. A transformation to a better situation.

"Mid says Cyrano should look at you," none said.

"But he's a vet!" May protested.

"But he can keep his mouth shut."

May considered. She needed to remain hidden, and she had a serious question. Cyrano just might have an answer. She also did not feel very good, purely physically; the night's rest had done her some good but not enough. She nodded.

"We'll unload more supplies and leave him here," none said.

They did that. Soon May was alone with Cyrano. "What is it you propose?'" she asked warily.

"This is a bit out of my department," he said. "But when Mid learned what had happened to you, he seems to have been annoyed." He made the briefest of smiles, and May knew why. None of them had met Mid, but their dealings with him by phone indicated an imperturbable man. Mid's unvoiced pleasure led to significant rewards, and his unvoiced displeasure was dangerous. If he had let annoyance show, there was apt to be h.e.l.l to pay.

"With whom?" she asked.

"With Bull Shauer." He set down his medical case, opened it, and brought out a small package. "I think Bull would be best advised to travel immediately and secretly to Tasmania; that might purchase him another week of life. But just in case you should encounter him again, use this."

May took the package. "What is it?"

"Hypo with animal sedative. Stab him with it, and within a minute he will lie down and sleep. Then get out of there and report to Mid. You will never see Bull again."

"But I couldn't kill him!" she protested.

"I said it's a sedative. It won't kill him, it will just put him down for an hour or so. It wears off rapidly enough, without ill effect. Giving you time to get cleanly away."

"But then he'll be after me again!"

"Not once Mid knows his location."

She pondered that. She decided not to inquire further. She knew that Mid could order a death, and probably would in this case. No one brutalized one of his employees with impunity. It wasn't as if Bull was worth saving. All she could do was stay clear, and never speak of it again.

"One thing I would like to know," she said with difficulty. "Does Bull have AIDS?"

"The autopsy will show," he said, and the implicit a.s.sumption was chilling. In Cyrano's mind, Bull was already dead. "Now I must check you. I find the prospect no more appealing than you do, but Mid wants to know."

May thought of protesting. Then she thought of trying to oppose one of Mid's directives. "Inside," she said.

She stripped for Cyrano much as she had for Bull, and with not a lot more equanimity. But she prided herself on being able to do what needed to be done, and this did need to be done. She had refused to see a doctor, and this was the alternative.

He checked her eye and breast. "Use this," he said, giving her a tube of ointment. She didn't ask what it was; it was surely intended for animals, but would work as readily and safely on a human animal. Then he checked her genital region.

"He didn't do it that way," she said through her teeth.

"So I see." He paused as he opened another kit and donned gloves. "This much needs to be said: sodomy is an accepted practice in many parts of the world. It may be one of the more widely used contraceptive measures. Some women even come to prefer it, perhaps because of that safety factor. That, of course, is changing, as AIDS becomes endemic in Africa; it is no drug-related, or gay-related, matter there. So many would not consider there to be any shame attached to it. It is evident that you feel otherwise-but it seems to me that the shame should attach to the perpetrator, not to the victim." His rubber-gloved fingers probed, then entered. Then he used an instrument. "Bruising, no actual tearing," he said. "It will heal. Use this." He brought out more ointment. "If he has no venereal disease, you're home free. Even if he has, the odds are against your contracting it. AIDS is especially vulnerable; it can't survive long at all if there is no blood-to-blood contact. I would rate your chances of not having it as about twenty to one-even if he has it. I think it would be best for you to think of Bull as never having existed."

"Certainly I won't be advertising my encounter with him," she said grimly. "But you seem quite confident about his incipient demise."

"I am," Cyrano said, glancing up at her.

She felt a cold wash of emotion. Suddenly she knew who had been a.s.signed to dispatch another monster. "He never existed," she agreed.

Cyrano put away his things. "And we never talked," he said. "Remain here until you receive news, then dispose of the hypo where it won't be found."

She nodded again, and started dressing. For all its outrageousness-being given an internal by a veterinarian!-it had been what was necessary. Her secret was preserved, and she was rea.s.sured that she had no serious injury. The matter of venereal disease would be checked soon enough. And if Bull should find her, she now had a defense. That was rea.s.suring.

Cyrano left the house and got into his van. May, feeling better, went to see about something more to eat. Half a load had been lifted from her mind.

* 22 - CYRANO DROVE HIS van back along the b.u.mpy forest trail, pondering. The woman had been savaged, sure enough; her brutal husband deserved what he was going to get. Cyrano would have no compunction about putting the man away; he was in the business of exterminating vermin of any type that bothered Mid. He had the impression that Mid liked May Flowers. Oh, there was nothing personal in it; Mid liked anyone who did good work for him. Mid liked Cyrano best of all, because Cyrano did what he was told without limit. Had Mid told him to dispatch May Flowers, he would have done it, but with regret. He would handle Bull Shauer's case with no regret.

Nevertheless, there was an aspect to this case that bothered him. It had come about by chance, but it was nevertheless chilling. May had gone to the isolated cabin to escape her husband-but that put her alone in the very heart of the territory hunted by the monster. How many nights could she remain there without being taken?

Cyrano had considered mentioning this to Mid, but had decided to wait until he saw the actual site, lest he give a false alarm. Now he had seen it, and he was sure: that cabin was not tight, and it was close to the water, and its mattresses were on the floor. The monster had already taken prey from more difficult terrain than that. Now he would have to ask Mid to move her, and this he disliked doing.

Suppose Mid told him to let her remain there? And to say nothing about the matter?

Cyrano was afraid that this was exactly what Mid was going to say. Because May Flowers represented a perfect lure for the monster. When it came from her, Cyrano could catch it, and the job would be done. May was the perfect Judas goat-or sacrificial lamb.

But the monster was like nothing Cyrano had encountered before. He was afraid that he would catch it too late: after it fed, instead of before. He would not dare stay too close to the cabin, because that would alert the monster, but if he stayed too far away, it might get her. He didn't know its parameters; if he misjudged it, he would lose it or let it feed.

He would have been happy to take the gamble with someone else. But May was a fellow employee, and she had been badly treated by her brute of a husband. She didn't deserve this risk. It was bad enough that she had possibly been exposed to AIDS; the firefly was a more immediate threat.

Well, he would try to argue. But if Mid wanted it that way, Mid would have it that way. Cyrano was very much concerned that that was the way it would be.

He saw bird flying up out of the way. It was large, with a gray and white pattern on its back and tail reminiscent of an old-style mattress. It was a red-shouldered hawk, flying silently and skillfully through the tangled lattice of twisted live oak branches. Cyrano admired predators like that; they were efficient and beautiful, unlike man.

In due course he came around to the gate and the house. He parked and knocked. Geode opened the door.

"I have to call Mid."

Geode nodded. He gestured in the direction of the phone, then went outside. He would not deliberately eavesdrop on another person's talk with Mid; it wasn't done. Cyrano entered, went to the phone in the living room, and dialed his number. Mid could tell who was calling by the phone that rang; he would answer this one.

Sure enough, it was no answering machine. The receiver was lifted, and there was silence on the line.

"Cyrano. May will recover; her injuries are physically superficial, emotionally more difficult. She is concerned about possible infection by venereal disease, but this seems unlikely. I gave her medication and defense."

"Is she safe?" Mid asked.

"No. She is alone in monster country." He braced himself; he knew how Mid's mind worked.

"Decoy."

"It is risky. We don't know the capabilities of that creature. The firefly could readily take her. I would prefer to move her out."

There was a pause. Then the dread directive came. "Leave her. Ambush the monster."

d.a.m.n! "Done."

Mid hung up. Cyrano put the phone down. He turned-and there was the Brown woman. d.a.m.n again-she must have overheard. He had forgotten that Demerit wasn't alone in the house, and this woman didn't know the conventions.

"That was Mid?" she asked. She was looking rather pretty in an off-the-shoulder dress; he was surprised by the change in her since his prior time here. It was as if she had lost twenty pounds and ten years.

"I report to him," he agreed gruffly.

"Will he help May?"

With uneasy relief he realized that she had not heard enough to know the situation. Mid had given his order, and Cyrano had responded, "Done." He could conceal the truth from her. He didn't like doing it, but she really had no need-to-know, and this grim matter was best kept quiet.

"I checked her, and she is injured but will recover. I gave her some medication, and a few days' rest will do the trick."

"Maybe she should come here, instead of being out there alone. I could help her better here."

"Mid said to leave her there."

"With the firefly," she said.

So much for concealment! "I will try to intercept it."

"I don't think I'd like working for Mid."

"He looks after his own. He was angry about what happened to her."

She just looked at him, and he felt small and grimy. He turned away from her and went out the door, where Geode waited. "I have to go back and watch," he said gruffly.

Geode didn't comment. He went back into the house quickly, as if hearing something.

Cyrano went to his van, climbed in, and sat for a moment before starting it. What could he tell them? Mid had said to leave May there.

He had to do what he was told; they knew that. Meanwhile, he would do his best to intercept the monster before it reached her. He didn't want it taking any more people! He wanted to catch it, perhaps not kill it, he might take it away with him and study it at length, for he was certain it was a most fascinating creature. The idea of simply killing what might be a representative of a unique species was appalling-which was why he was glad that he, and not some ignorant sheriff, was working on the case. But to have one of Mid's own serving as the bait-there had to be a better way.

He made a short sigh and dug out his ignition key. It was time to go and set his ambush for the firefly. He wished he had a better notion of what it looked like.

He started the van and pulled around the loop. But as he did so, another vehicle came in. It was a sheriffs car. Think of the devil!

He waited for the car to clear the joining of the loop so he could pa.s.s by and turn down the dirt trail, but the car stopped right at the wrong place, blocking him. The door opened and the deputy climbed out. He was a solid man of about forty, with thinning brown hair and a tired expression. He came around to Cyrano's door.

"Frank Tishner here," he said. "You're the exterminator?"

"Yes."

"You figured out what's doing it?"

"Not yet."

"You looked at May Flowers?"

"Yes."

"You're not much for communication."

Cyrano nodded.

"Listen, I set it up to put her in that cabin. But overnight I remembered the firefly. I don't want her there anymore."

"You'd rather have her back in town while her husband remains at large?"

"No. I'd rather have her here at this house."

"So would I. But it's not my decision to make."