The back of his neck below his hairline was pale, and it folded as she bit.
He yelped and his body twitched. One of his hands clawed the air under the web. He was not acting anymore.
Sarah grasped the hooked end of a thin nylon line fixed to a reel on her belt. She hitched it to the cotton of his T-shirt and started winding it tightly and rapidly around his shoulders, then down the body and around his legs. When the end of the line came loose from the reel, she brought it under his thighs and pulled it so hard that he rolled over on his back. He was wide-eyed and gasping. She hauled on the line again and he rolled over toward the hub of the web. She glimpsed the oval mark of her teeth starting to pink on the back of his neck, and she was pleased. She wound the cord under his hips, watching it tighten around his buttocks. He was wearing black jeans, but the line cut through the flesh like a wire through cheese. She held it tight a couple of seconds, then secured the loose end. She made sure he was incapable of getting free. Then she returned more slowly to her crevice.
“Christ!” said Havelock. “That really works. Someone untie the guy. Sarah, sweetheart, I thought you were going to make a meal of him right there, and so did he. It was totally convincing. I don’t know what it was, but believe me, this is the breakthrough.”
“It hurt,” complained the drama student.
“That’s show business, son,” said Havelock. “No sweat — take a break till Friday, when we have the cameras rolling. Do it like you just did, and we should only need one take. Spider Girl, are you coming down? I have news for you.”
He took her to the cafeteria and bought her coffee. The news was that NBC had fixed a spot on the Today show for August 11, the Monday morning after the airing of her main appearance in Greg Laz’s phobia series. “They figure they have something hot on their hands, and they’re right, only they don’t know how hot. It’s time to light the fuse, Sarah.”
She nodded. Ed had seen this coming.
“There’s a guy I’d like you to meet this afternoon. A journalist, name of Harry Dohn. He’s free-lance, and the best feature writer in New York. Harry’s work is syndicated worldwide. Now, I’ve told him a little about you, and he’s interested. Basically the angle is ‘pretty girl meets ugly spider and doesn’t panic,’ okay? But Harry will want to dig a little, give it some human interest, understand?”
“I guess so.”
“Don’t let him scare you. Tell him whatever you want. Simple things. What you think is trivial may be just what Harry needs. He’ll want to show that you’re like every other girl in America, with one difference: you can pick up spiders. So if he asks dumb questions, like what breakfast cereal you like best or what time you go to bed, humor the guy. It could be important. Would you do that for me?”
Sarah smiled. “Relax, Havelock. I won’t bite his neck. Not if he keeps off my web, anyway.” It seemed as good a time as any to ask if Ed could come and watch her filming on Friday, so she did.
“You have a shrink?” said Havelock guardedly.
“A friend. He’s the guy who interviewed me about phobias.”
“Him.” He looked relieved. “Sure. Tell him to come along. He’s welcome.”
Harry Dohn had a loud suit and a quiet voice. He was short, a little overweight, and about forty. His eyes were his most expressive feature. They were apprehensive and concerned, and they registered surprise at most things that were said. The rest of the face was forgettable except for its excess of color, the result, she guessed by his breath, of a liquid lunch.
Sloane introduced them and then left Sarah to show Harry Dohn the sets. His questions, as Havelock had predicted, were dumb.
“These are giant spiderwebs?”
“Right.”
“And you’re going to anchor a program about spiders for Havelock?”
“That’s the plan.”
“But you already did one program on spiders.”
“That’s right. For Gregory Laz. Only it was about fear. Spiders came into it indirectly.”
“You handled them, I understand.”
“That’s correct. Would you like to see the sheet web next? It’s a beautiful thing.”
“Ms. — uh — Jordan, I think I’ve seen enough. Could we sit down somewhere, do you suppose? My feet don’t cooperate too good in the afternoons. TV studios never have chairs — have you noticed? But I saw some beautiful armchairs in Reception. Shall we, uh —?”
So they took the elevator down and parked themselves on a leather couch behind a palm in a tub. Harry put on a pair of tinted glasses and took out a rumpled envelope for his notes. The tone of the questions changed.
“It’s different things, acting a spider and talking about the things. Does that disturb you at all, Ms., uh—?”
“Sarah. Not in the least. I have a lot of respect for spiders, Mr. Dohn.”
“Harry. Respect — for cannibals and killers?”‘
“It’s a mistake to judge them by human ethics. They don’t have the choices we do. They respond to certain signals, and that’s it.”
“Like the military obeying orders?”
“No. More like a computer following a program. They don’t have the option of doing any different.”
“And you admire that?”
“I respect it.”
“What do you admire about them? Anything at all?”
She tried to think. “I like their construction skills. Their efficiency as hunters—”
“And killers?”
“That, too — only let’s get this straight. I’m talking in spider terms.”
“Sure, Sarah. You obviously have no problem identifying with spiders.”
“I’ve studied them for years, Mr. Dohn.”
“They should be so lucky!” he said unexpectedly. “Did anyone ever suggest you could find something more, uh, responsive to study?”
“Like men? I think the spiders have it right, Mr. Dohn. Theirs is a female-dominated world, as you know.”
“That’s something else you admire, then?”
She laughed. “It has certain attractions, but this isn’t getting us very far, is it? You can’t really compare our world with theirs.”
“No?”
“Well, there’s a basic discrepancy. We have the gift of reason. They don’t.”
“Okay. Now, tell me something else. When people call you Spider Girl — as you can bet they will — what will they mean by it?”
“That I’m not scared of handling spiders.”
“No, Sarah. It’s more than that. You get a label like that and you’ve got an image. That’s what Havelock Sloane is counting on. How are you going to shape up when people figure you’re half girl, half spider?”
Her answer to this was crucial. She must not start out by denying the image. She had to be positive. “I’d welcome it. It’s a fascinating prospect. I mean, anyone can see how many arms and legs I have, so if there’s anything in this, it’s not physical, it’s in my life-style. Actually, I have a lot in common with spiders.”
“Go on. I’m interested.”
“You just made my point for me,” said Sarah, smiling. “You find it interesting that I admit to being Spider Girl. Every woman wants to be interesting, right?”
“Point taken.” He made a note of it. “These things you have in common with spiders...”
“Plenty of things. If you really want to hear about it, I’m one of those people who don’t go for bright lights and sunshine. I like the dark places, where I can merge with the background. I can keep dead still for a long time, watching things. But when I move, I go fast. I’m pretty aggressive.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t see that. I had you down as friendly.”
“Try crossing me, Mr. Dohn. I bite.”