“And why must we not look outside?” Gillis asked.
“Because you may see your grandmother with a plate of cookies for you,” Jerry said. “Or a baby drowning in a puddle. As the night goes on, we shall hear people we know out there, calling us. If you are so stupid as to peek out, you may see anything imaginable, anything that just might persuade you to open the door or utter a foolish word.” Maisie was looking to her husband.
“Don’t believe a word of it, honey,” he said. “Lacey, the foolish man is just trying to scare us. He had friends out there making funny noises. What do you want of us, Howard?”
“I want your word that you will not look out, approach the door— even an approach might do it— or reply to anything you hear. Your solemn word, or I tie you up.”
Gillis shrugged. “I promise. Humor him, Maisie. One of Ariadne’s drinking friends, I suspect.”
The woman said, “I promise.” Jerry looked at Carlo, who shrugged and mumbled, “Sure.”
“Very well,” Jerry said. “I hold you to it at gunpoint and I repeat that I am serious. Ariadne, you believe me?” She nodded in silence.
“She also believes in pink elephants,” Gillis said.
Jerry rose. He would love a cup of coffee, but there was probably only enough coffee left for one pot, and the water supply was getting low, too. That thought immediately gave him a torrid thirst, and he walked over to the water bucket, which had been placed in a far corner by the piano, where it would not be kicked. As he passed a window, something tapped on the glass to catch his attention. He ignored it, angry at the crawly sensation it gave him. The water was lower than he expected, and he decided not to mention coffee. As he passed the window again, a kitten miaowed.
Enough coffee for three, enough food for three… again he wondered if the recovery of the children had been an error. Perhaps Killer’s success had been so superhuman that even the Oracle had not anticipated it.
“How long is this farce going to last?” Gillis demanded, squirming. Those were not the most comfortable of chairs.
“Till morning,” Jerry said. “The darkest hour is just before the dawn. If we survive that, then Killer and I are leaving. We are going to take Ariadne and Lacey and Alan with us. You will be free to leave also.” Ariadne turned to stare at him incredulously. Obviously she had not thought that the rescue was still available.
Gillis straightened his heavy shoulders. “I have legal custody of those children.” Jerry shrugged. “That is of no interest to me. I am taking them beyond the reach of law.” And the Oracle might roast him for it.
“It’s very quiet out there,” Killer said uneasily. He had sat through sieges before. Jerry had not, although he had heard the stories often enough. “They’re usually chirping and gibbering by now.” He had not worked it out— with so many innocents present, trickery was a better tactic than terror, but to act too soon after the failure of the FBI ploy would make them suspicious. So the enemy would play a waiting game.
The rain had stopped at last; there was only a steady drip from the porch roof. Jerry asked what time it was. Gillis said it was two fifteen.
“Then my watch has stopped,” Maisie said crossly. “I have eleven thirty.”
Carlo had uttered only a couple of obscenities since he sat down, but now he said, “I have five after five.” The three captives looked at each other in surprise, and Jerry grinned: the faerie was fouling up their watches. It normally did not effect clockwork, so they must have something more sophisticated.
“How did you find me?” Ariadne demanded. “Direction finders,” Gillis said.
Jerry wondered what those were and decided not to ask.
“The Devil’s own dance you led us, too. You sure had trouble finding the spot, didn’t you?” She pulled a pouting face as though she didn’t want to reply, then said, “I got lost. I didn’t plan this, Graham. I was heading for Canada.”
“Canada?” Gillis scoffed, and Carlo laughed aloud. “You never did have much of a sense of direction, did you?” She dropped her eyes, a woman mauled in too many fights to accept another.
“Your juvenile plotting has been fun to watch,” Gillis went on, baiting her. “Of course Mike told me when you applied to withdraw that money… and Charlie, when you bought the car. So Carlo went around there before you took delivery and fitted the beepers on it. Alan’s teddy is bugged also, which is how we knew which room they were in.” It was pathetic to see so large a man picking on so small a woman. She showed no anger, but her tone festered with contempt as she replied.
“You were always so clever, Graham— I can’t think why you ever married anyone as stupid as me.”
“You weren’t stupid until the drink rotted your brains,” he said. “Smart enough to get yourself knocked up by a smart young lawyer with good prospects but not enough working capital to stand a paternity suit. And I admit that I didn’t know you had a couple of henchmen lined up. Where did you find these two?” She waited so long to answer that Jerry had decided she would not, then said, “Right here, when I arrived. I went in the ditch and came here to ask for help. Mr. Howard and Mr… and Killer… have been very helpful and friendly, and that makes a wonderful change from dealing with creeps like you, Graham.” Domestic bliss, as Killer had said.
“Bull!” Graham retorted.
Jerry squirmed and wished he would stop using that word.
The big man persisted. “Are you saying that two complete strangers would pull off what these two did for the sake of some waif wandering in from the storm? How much of my hard-earned alimony are you paying them?”
“Nothing.”
Graham scowled disbelievingly. “What’s your motive, Howard? If she isn’t paying you, who is?” They had hours to kill yet, and there was no harm in telling the truth— it had been around for centuries, disregarded as myth and legend by those whom it did not concern. Besides, he had to be sure these captives would obey him, and they might be more inclined to do so if they thought he was a raving lunatic.
“I was sent by an organization of which you have never heard,” Jerry said, noticing Carlo raise his eyebrows. “Killer and I are field men. From time to time we are instructed to contact certain persons and offer them sanctuary, and your former wife is such a person. How or why she was chosen is not my business.”
“Sanctuary?” the big man echoed. “Asylum? Where?” Jerry tried to make himself more comfortable on the arm of the shabby old armchair. Ariadne edged over to one side; he took that as an invitation and moved down to sit beside her, perched on the front of it.
“We call it Mera,” he said, “although it has had many names. It is a land of happiness and perpetual youth.” The two men exchanged glances, and Carlo rolled his eyes.
“I am about seventy,” Jerry said, “and Killer is well over four hundred. You are not going to believe me, but as I said before, you only have to believe that I believe; and Ariadne is interested…” Sitting under the stark glare of the bare light bulb, he told them of the sunshine city of Mera, where every day bore the scent of warm flowers and the sea; of its streets and squares and winding alleys, quietly bustling with many people brought from all times and all places to live and be happy in its timeless peace. Between the bare plank walls, the plywood ceiling and the drab linoleum floor, he sketched its beauty, the shining reds and pinks of marble and sandstone, granite and brick: buildings of many styles huddling below the house of the Oracle. His voice droned on in an ominous quiet— no wind or rain outside, now, only a gentle dripping onto the porch.