Psychlone Page 11

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Trumbauer leafed through the paper, concentrating on each story, trying to calm his nerves. Jacobs looked out the window, which opened on a fair view of the north side of Lorobu. You notice something? Jacobs asked. Notice what? Trumbauer murmured. All the trees are dead. All the plants and bushes. This morning, when we went for a walk with that

  Psychlone soldier, all the bushes in front of the inn were brown." And?" Just musing out loud, Jacobs said. Maybe they haven't been wateredbut there's a cactus garden around the side, by the pool and patio, and it's all brown and gray, too. He looked at his watch. Two days we've been here. This is an important project. You'd think they could cut through the red tape and decide whether we're spies or not." Sure, Trumbauer said. It's important, but it's not getting anywhere. The Army and the FBI and everybody else can't begin to accept what's happened here. They're blind, as it were, and can't see the elephant that just stomped on them." Colorful turn of phrase, there. You're a poet, Arnold." No need for sarcasm, Franklin. Trumbauer dropped the top of his paper and peered over it at Jacobs. My patience is wearing thin and I get irritable. So you should put up with me. I put up with your poetry, you put up with my criticism. Edmund Wilson I'm not." Yeats I'm not, Trumbauer said, grinning. You're so agreeable I may not be able to stand you. What do you think is holding them up?" Trumbauer's grin vanished and he turned back to the paper. How should I know? You're the one who's had military experience."

  A light rap on the door made him sit up and fold his paper. Mr. Trumbauer, Mr. Jacobs? It was the staff sergeant who manned the desk in the lobby. Yes? Jacobs said. The sergeant opened the door and stepped in. Colonel Silvera would like to see you and Miss

  Unamuno." Then let's go, Jacobs said, standing slowly. We don't want to keep the Colonel waiting." Miss Unamuno was already in the Colonel's office, sitting stiffly in the room's desk chair. Silvera greeted the men without a smile and motioned them to sit on a couch, newly imported from the lobby. We've had some difficulty, he began, riffling file folders on his desk. And? Jacobs prompted. You've been cleared, Mr. Jacobs. You've done nothing to nullify your security rating. But Mr. Trumbauer..." Trumbauer dropped his gaze, then raised it almost defiantly. What about Arnold? Jacobs asked. Mr. Trumbauer participated in potentially subversive activities in 1959." I was a member of the Communist Party for two years, he said. You didn't mention it in your affidavit, Silvera said. I'm a private citizen. I offered to help you in your investigation, not to reveal my whole life." And you've had a record of ... unusual sexual preference." I have been celibate for fifteen years." But weren't you active in recent homosexual political groups?" Not in any immoral capacity, Colonel Silvera. I am a good citizen and there is no reason you should doubt my good faith." Jacobs looked back and forth between Silvera and Trumbauer. Suddenly he slammed his open palm on the couch arm and leaned forward. In the name of God, Colonel, are you telling me that Arnold's political or sexual inclinations have anything to do with what's happened in Lorobu?" No, Silvera said. But our investigation is being conducted under tight security. We haven't eliminated the possibility of enemy action"

  Janet Unamuno stood up. Colonel, you and your Army and your investigation can go straight to hell. We already know more about Lorobu than you do." That is not strictly true, Silvera said defensively. Arnold Trumbauer is one of the most decent human beings on God's earth, Miss Unamuno said. And if he is to be excluded for such ridiculous reasonsColonel, he is no longer a Communist, and his sexual affiliations are not important as far as Lorobu is concerned." Exactly, Jacobs said. I said there were difficulties" Do you need our help, or are we to be treated as interfering lackeys? Jacobs said. I have never been accused of treason or lack of faith in this country, Trumbauer said. I became a

  Communist out of sympathy for friends who were being repressed by the government in the fifties. My attitudes changed during the Cuban missile crisis. My leaning is still toward the left, but in my dotage I've become very conservative. I am interested in human beings, not nations." All right, all right, Silvera said. I understand your point of view, Mr. Trumbauer, and I sympathize. I have no doubt you approached us in good faith. But my superiors are more hard-line than I am, personally. And there is precedent for their convictions." Jacobs shook his head. Colonel, politics has nothing to do with what happened in Lorobu. Something terrible is loose" The door to Silvera's office opened and a black woman in the standard green uniform entered carrying a newspaper. Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt. It's on the networks, radio and TV, sir, too. General Machen has been trying to get through to Washington."

  She dropped the newspaper on his desk and stepped back stiffly. Silvera unfolded it and looked at the headlines. Jacobs craned his neck to read them. It's in Chicago now, Miss Unamuno said without looking at the paper. Have Mr. Rittenhouse and Colonel Harrison meet me in the lobby as soon as possible, Silvera said. The soldier saluted and left. Silvera looked up at them. Could you have predicted this? he asked.

  If I had known where the people on that list lived, yes, Miss Unamuno said. The third namewhere did he live?" He was a Colonel, Jacobs said. I know, Silvera said. He picked up a piece of paper. He lived in Waukegan ... no, he was born in Dayton, Ohio. His wife lived in Waukegan until she died in 1956."

  They all died in World War Two, didn't they? Miss Unamuno asked.

  Psychlone The Colonel nodded. They were all prisoners of war, weren't they? Trumbauer asked. He looked at Jacobs. I was trying to put it all together. They died all at once. My guide protected me, but some of it came through and I've been sorting it ever since." Do you know where they died? Silvera asked. Is Mr. Trumbauer cleared to work with all of us? Jacobs asked. We don't bargainbut He raised one hand to fend off Jacobs birthing protest. I don't think we'll have to worry about Mr. Trumbauer. I'll give him my personal support and that should be enoughunless and until I'm replaced, which could be any time now. Do you know where they died?" In a prison, Miss Unamuno said, closing her eyes. Flowers bloomed on the walls of a compound, bloomed and burned."

  Silvera shook his head. Please be patient with me. We think you're rightbut we don't want to give out information that may prejudice your ... uh ... sensitivity." What information? Jacobs prodded. Janet, do you know what happened to those men?"

  She shook her head. I don't think they know what happened to themselves, not really." Why are they still here? Trumbauer asked quietly. He had slumped in his chair and looked older, more frail. He refused to meet Jacobs direct gaze.

  What do you mean? the colonel asked.

  If they're dead, they should have passed on, Jacobs explained. But I think we're all avoiding the major question. These little things are just the prelude to a real biggiewhy in hell are they killing people?" Silvera reached into a desk drawer and brought out a thick folder. This is our dossier on the men whose names you've brought to us. We can tell you, without any worry of prejudicesince it's all a fait accompli, and Miss Unamuno seems to be guessing anywaythat Lieutenant William Skorvin lived in Lorobu" You've mentioned that, Jacobs said. And, Silvera continued, pointing to the paper, Haverstock, Illinois, just outside of ChicagoCorporal

  S.K. Percher lived there. He held the paper out to Trumbauer, who took it reluctantly. Jacobs looked over Trumbauer's arm. Sixteen hundred people dead and wounded, he read. But not the whole town. Why not all of Haverstock?" Maybe because it's limited, Silvera said, whatever it is. And we're by no means sure you people are right in assuming it's supernatural. General Machen's staff has a long list of possibilities, among them biological warfare"

  Jacobs snorted. which isn't farfetched, considering the increased growth of bacteria in the area." Or the death of plants? Jacobs asked. That, too." Who would be responsible for that, the Russians? Jacobs asked facetiously. Not necessarily." Oh, the Chinese, then. The Russians are the ones responsible for crazy-rays from space. Or a satellite came down in Lorobu filled with deadly space-dust." I saw that in a movie once, Miss Unamuno said. Silvera stood and gathered the papers on h
is desk into a manila folder. I don't think any of those ideas are more farfetched than the possession of a whole town by ghosts. Mr. Jacobs, I'd like you to come with me. Mr. Trumbauer, Miss Unamuno, we'd like for you to return to Albuquerque and resume your normal liveswith the addition of a few security men. We'll need you in a few days, but Lorobu is not a pleasant place to stay. We'll call you back when He stopped and tapped the folder on his desk. I've said too much already. I'll have your car waiting outside. I apologize for any personal distress. This isn't an easy time." I didn't know you were a Commie, Jacobs whispered to Trumbauer as they walked out of the office in front of Silvera. Oh, Trumbauer said, I suppose that means it's obvious I'm a fag?" Jacobs gave him a glance of mock shock and patted him on the shoulder. Someday I'll let you know what I am."

  I know already, Silvera said behind them. You're a gardener."

  Miss Unamuno smiled briefly.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Saturday morning was bright and warm enough to require only a sweater. Suzanne put one on Tim as Rick looked on, munching a donut. You're feeling okay now, you're sure?"

  Tim made a face. I'm sure, he said. This boy, Archie, he's a nice kid, isn't he? Suzanne asked, fussing around his buttons. Is he a Mormon?"

  Oh, for rice cakes, Suzie, Rick said. Let the boy play and have fun. We can convert him later." I'll sing in the choir, Tim said, grinning. Right, Rick said, pushing him gently to the door. Just be back by lunch." I will. He stood on the doorstep and saw Archie walking down the street. There he is now. Bye! He ran across the yard, calling for his friend, one hand digging into his pants pockets.

  The forty-two dollars were there, all wadded up and covered with a gum wrapper and a rubber band. He didn't know how long it would take Rick and Suzanne to notice the money was gone. He had to act fast. He wanted to tell Archie first, though. He had to tell someone. Of course, they'd probably go to Archie when he was gone, and Archie would have to tell them. But they might guess anyway. Hi, Archie said. All ready?" Sure. Where?" There's a nice park near here. I thought we'd go over there. I know a guy works in the hot dog stand.

  Maybe he'll shave a couple of dimes off some drinks for us." Great. They walked along the sidewalk, Tim making sure not to step on any cracks. Archie noticedhe was sharp that way, Tim decidedand laughed. Not going to break your Mom's back, huh?"

  The little ugly bastard My Mom's dead, Tim said. It seemed so far away, so long gone, and it hadn't been three weeks yet. The two weeks in the hospital had taken forever. (I like him, be quiet. Not now.) I thought that was your Mom in the door."

  That's my Aunt ... no, I mean my sister-in-law. Archie, are you a Mormon?" I don't know. Dad's a Catholic, Mom's a Mormon. Every week I go to a different place. They're pretty loose about it. I guess all the Mormons think Mom is a fruitcake, and all the Catholics think Dad is. Pretty good arrangement, nobody bothers us. Then Archie thought a moment and saw Tim's pensive look. Gee, I'm sorry. I guess it must be pretty rough."

  Let's not talk about it, huh? I've got a secret I want to tell you. Later." The park was busy with children and picnickers. The boys took horseshoes from a stand and played in a nearby sandpit, but neither was very good. Tim felt vaguely embarrassed. Then they climbed a tree and sat on the lower branches, flicking ants off the bark and not saying much. You like car models? Archie asked. Sure, Tim said. But I like airplanes better." I put together customized jobs. You know, the ones that take putty and sanding and stuff." I tried that once, but I could never get the pits out. And besides, I'm not very good at deciding what extra piece looks good on the front, or anything."