The Arm of the Starfish Page 18

  Adam leaned back against the soft, warm sand. How different this was from the night before with Kali. He sighed with relief at the release from tension. Ahead of them the moon was rising. Above, fireflies glittered. “It’s really fantastic,” he said lazily, looking at one small, moving spark. “Every light man can make is mostly heat. I forget the proportion it is in an electric bulb, but something like ninety-five percent of the energy needed to make an ordinary light bulb for an ordinary lamp in an ordinary house is used up in heat. If we could find out how the fireflies do it, cold light, electricity would cost only a fraction of what it does now. It would be so cheap it would hardly cost anything.”

  Poly lay back, looking out to sea. “The light and power companies wouldn’t like that.”

  “I think Old Doc was working on it for a while. He used to pay me a penny, way back when I was a little kid, for every ten fireflies I caught for him in a jelly jar. I spent all evening chasing them. Didn’t make much money but I had an awful lot of fun.”

  Poly rolled over, leaning on one elbow and looking at Adam intensely. “Do me a favor and leave fireflies alone.”

  “Hunh?” Adam turned to look at her.

  “Listen,” Poly said, still up on her elbow so that she could stare down at him. “Did you know they’re divided into different levels or classes?”

  “I’ve told you all I know about fireflies. They don’t seem much of a menace to me.”

  Poly did not laugh. She continued to stare at him with a serious, probing expression, so that she looked much older than her twelve years. “Well, they are. And they mate by their flashes. A male firefly will give his flash—maybe four flashes, say. And if the female is in the same class or category that he is, she’ll answer back with four flashes. But if she’s in the class that has three flashes, or two, or five, she won’t answer. Unless she’s hungry. Then she’ll give him back four flashes and when he comes down to her, instead of making love with him she’ll eat him.”

  “What a bloodthirsty fiendess,” Adam said lightly.

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Leave fireflies alone, Adam.” She stood up, calling, “Race you back to the house!” and went streaking across the sand.

  Sunday morning the whole family went up to the monolithic stones and sat around the large table while Dr. O’Keefe read morning prayer. Then they rode to the native village, Mrs. O’Keefe carrying Rosy in a canvas sling on her back, Dr. O’Keefe carrying Johnny, and Adam riding with Peggy in front of him on the saddle. He had one arm around the little girl and she leaned back against him contentedly and slept.

  Virbius entertained them with a lavish and exotic meal, and Poly and Temis rounded up all the O’Keefe children and the village children for a series of dancing and singing games. Adam, sitting next to the doctor, felt lapped in peace and joy.

  Friday seemed a long way off. It seemed a long way off all during the week of working in the lab with the doctor, of swimming with the children, of singing in the living room in the evening, of coming to feel that this island and this family was his home. He knew that in actuality Friday was moving closer and looming larger with every passing minute, but he kept it out of his mind until Thursday night when all the children, including Poly, were in bed, and he was sitting in the living room with Dr. and Mrs. O’Keefe. Mrs. O’Keefe was mending a pair of Dennys’ shorts, but her face had a watchful, waiting look, and she raised her head as the doctor said, “I’ve arranged to have the helicopter pick you up in the morning, Adam. You have a hard day ahead of you, and it’s a tiring ride by horse over to the hotel.”

  “Whatever you say, sir.” Adam’s heart began to beat so that he could feel its thumping.

  “You should get to Lisbon around ten in the morning. The plane leaves for Gaea again at six, but you can arrange to miss it. Joshua will fly you back.”

  Adam smiled with pleasure. “Oh, great. Something really good to look forward to.”

  “Now, Adam, there hasn’t been time for you to learn any Portuguese, has there?”

  “Just a few isolated words and idioms.”

  “Here’s a small phrase book you may find useful, then. This is a good street map of Lisbon which will help you to find your way about. In the morning I’ll give you the Temis papers. María and José report that the laboratory has been watched all week. One small paper I carefully dropped ‘inadvertently’ has disappeared. I hope we are leading them away from any thoughts of Temis into thinking I have been experimenting on one of the horses. José has dropped hints of this to the stable boys, and one of the horses has a badly cut hoof. This nonexistent experiment is important enough to excite much interest, but what is more, in the long run it would not work. As for the papers on Temis, we’ll try to have them on you for as short a time as possible. María has made a concealed pocket for you to carry them in. She has also made a slightly less clever pocket for the phony horse papers. If you are searched this pocket will be discovered first. You are of course aware that you will be followed wherever you go.”

  “Yes, sir, I figured I would be.”

  “Know too that someone from the Embassy will have an eye on you. I don’t think you yourself will be in any danger, although the papers may be.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to the papers,” Adam said fiercely.

  “I know, Adam. If I had not come to trust you implicitly I could not allow you to go.”

  Adam, remembering that until the promise was lifted he could not tell Dr. O’Keefe about Kali, bowed his head.

  “Adam will be all right,” Mrs. O’Keefe said softly.

  Adam looked over at her with gratitude. Dr. O’Keefe continued, his voice quiet, calm, but containing absolute authority. “The first thing you must do when you get to Lisbon is to call Father Tallis. You will be most private in a public phone booth. Now, Adam, you have already learned that it is the unexpected that usually happens.”

  Adam controlled a shiver that threatened to ripple through his body. “Yes, Dr. O’Keefe. I have.”

  “We’ve tried to prepare, as much as possible, for the unexpected, to foresee the unforeseen. I think you’re right in your suspicions about Dr. Ball and Typhon Cutter the other night: they’re hot on the trail and you’re being used as a decoy. I wish I knew what move they’re going to make, but I don’t. I can only guess that they’ll try to keep you from getting in touch with either Joshua or Father and certainly they’d prevent you from getting through to the Ambassador. And the Temis papers are too important to go to anybody else. So, to try to prepare for the unpreparable, we have worked out alternate times and places for you to call Tom Tallis. I’m only grateful that he is able to be in Lisbon instead of Gibraltar or heaven and the bishop know where else.”

  “Sir,” Adam asked, “how did Canon Tallis get involved in this—in this kind of business?”

  “Inadvertently and unwillingly. Like most of us.”

  Adam nodded. “Yes. How am I to get in touch with him?”

  “He will be moving all day Friday. I cannot give you a list of where he would be, because it would be too dangerous for you to carry. You’ll have to memorize the places where he’ll be available at each particular hour. The phone numbers will be no trouble since they’ll be, in each case, numbers you can look up in the public phone book. Ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Until ten-thirty the Russian Embassy.” Adam looked startled, but Mrs. O’Keefe smiled serenely, and Dr. O’Keefe continued. “You must try to get him there, because we want the papers off you as soon as possible. Ask for Dr. Fedotov. Don’t speak to anybody else.”

  “How will I be sure—”

  “He will identify himself to you through the Frost poem, since it’s the only one of the pass codes you know.”

  “What about the Tallis canon?”

  “That’s more a trademark than a code. Dr. Fedotov will put you through to Canon Tallis. If all goes well, and there’s no reason it shouldn’t, you’ll be able to give him the papers before you go to the
rectory to Dr. Ball. But if anything should happen to prevent your calling or getting to him, after ten-thirty you’ll be out of touch until eleven—it does take time to get from one place to another—but between eleven and twelve you can call the Monastery of Saô Juan Chrysostom. Ask for the senhor paroco, Father Henriques.”

  “The senhor paroco, Father Henriques,” Adam murmured, memorizing.

  “If by noon you still haven’t been able to talk to Tom you’ll have time at the restaurant when you go to meet Kali. Between one and two-thirty call Rabbi Pinhas. Look in the phone book under the name of Senhora Leonora Afonso. Got it?”

  “Yes. In my passport.”

  “If you haven’t been able to phone by two-thirty—and you should be able, Adam, these are just emergency procedures like the life belts on a plane that you never really expect to use—then from three-thirty to five call Joshua. You have his numbers, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whatever happens don’t let anybody get hold of them. I hope long before afternoon you’ll be all through with your job. If, by any mischance you’re not, in the evening Joshua and Father Tallis are going to the opera. If you have to call them, ask for Dr. Magalhâes and say it is an emergency. Tom Tallis will have left that name, and say that he may get a call. I repeat, Adam, this should be an unnecessary precaution. Now I’ll go over the list again.”

  Adam listened carefully. Mrs. O’Keefe finished patching Dennys’ shorts and reached for a sweater of Peggy’s. “Poly’s growing out of everything,” she murmured. “I’ll have to go into Lisbon myself soon.”

  “Got it?” Dr. O’Keefe asked Adam.

  “I think so,” Adam said. “Until ten-thirty Dr. Fedotov at the Russian Embassy. Between eleven and twelve Father Henriques at the Saô Juan Chrysostom Monastery. Between one and two-thirty the Rabbi Pinhas, in the phone book under the name of Senhora Leonora Afonso. From three-thirty to five, Joshua. In the evening the opera house, and ask for Dr. Magalhâes.”

  “Good. A friend of Arcangelo’s will have the plane ready for you and Joshua after the opera. We can’t use Arcangelo any more since Ball saw him with you at the airport. He’s now pinpointed as one of our men, so don’t try to get in touch with him whatever happens. He can’t help you any more, and it would only be putting him in jeopardy.”

  Adam gave an involuntary shudder because he understood now just how grave the danger to Arcangelo could be. For some reason he remembered the chauffeur, Molèc, and the brutality of the huge hand as it sliced against his knee.

  “Arcangelo’s a good man,” Dr. O’Keefe said, “and absolutely loyal. We’ll miss him badly.”

  Mrs. O’Keefe looked up. “Is it safe for him to stay in Lisbon?”

  “Safer than to try to leave.”

  “Dr. O’Keefe,” Adam asked, “is the Rabbi Pinhas the one who was on the plane—”

  “Yes. Now, Adam, you’d better get to bed and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll be waiting for you and Joshua tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, sir,” Adam said. “Good night. Good night, Mrs. O’Keefe.”

  He lay in bed in the small airy room that had so quickly come to seem like home. A fresh ocean breeze came in the open window. He pulled the blanket up over him, but he was not sleepy. His body was tense and ready to spring, as though he were already in the plane on the way to Lisbon. He ran over in his mind the list of the places he was to call Canon Tallis. Then he tried to project his imagination beyond the unknown quantity of the day and to the trip back to the island with Joshua. But he could see in his mind’s eye only the daytime trip the week before, and Joshua sending the little plane into the great, turbulent clouds, his voice rising above the tumult of the elements.

  Back in the hills a night bird hooted. Dr. and Mrs. O’Keefe walked past his door on their way to bed. Adam did not look at his watch because he did not want to know how much time had passed. If ever he needed a good night’s sleep it was tonight, so that his mind would be clear for whatever might happen the following day. In the next room Charles made a noise in his sleep. Adam wondered if the children would see Macrina when they went swimming, and if Poly would tell Macrina that he was in Lisbon, and if Macrina would care. There was no questioning Macrina’s intelligence, but Adam wondered whether or not things mattered to her. How did a fish, even a mammal, show sadness? A crocodile might be supposed to shed tears, if only crocodile tears, but what could Macrina do to show sorrow?

  As he thought about Macrina the thoughts got more complicated and more confused and he was in Gaea and he was in Woods Hole and Macrina was sitting at the concierge’s desk at the Avenida Palace and Adam was asleep … .

  Mrs. O’Keefe brought him breakfast in the morning. “Our thoughts will be with you all day, Adam,” she said.

  “Thank you. I’m glad.”

  Poly knocked and came in. “Take care of yourself for heaven’s sake.”

  “For heaven’s and the future’s sake,” Adam quoted.

  “For my sake,” Poly said.

  Charles slipped into the room. “Just take care of yourself.”

  Peggy came running along the corridor, calling for her mother, plummeted into Adam’s room, and was barely stopped from leaping up onto the bed and spilling the breakfast tray. “When will Adam be back?”

  “Tonight,” Poly said tightly.

  “Tonight,” Charles said, looking at Adam.

  Mrs. O’Keefe pulled Peggy up onto her lap. “But late, Charles. Very late. Long after midnight. They should arrive with the dawn.”

  Charles looked at his mother, at Adam, nodded without speaking, and left the room as quietly as he had entered it.

  Mrs. O’Keefe put Peggy down. “Come along, Pol, Peg. Let’s give Adam a few minutes to eat breakfast in peace.”

  The whole family stood on the sea wall and waved as he left in the helicopter.—It won’t be long, Adam thought,—before I’m back here and everything will be all right.

  It was the same silent pilot who had taken him to dinner with the Cutters, and they whirred across the island with the pilot scowling out the windshield, seemingly wishing to avoid even looking at Adam. They circled the hotel, then flew over the pool and tennis court, and down the beach to a small cement landing strip. The taxi plane was there, and Adam was allowed to get on and settle in his seat, although he was early. There was room for twelve people in the compact cabin, but not much leg room. A pleasant-looking stewardess offered him coffee, but he was suspicious of all stewardesses and not at all sure of anything offered him to drink. He thought he could handle himself and protect the papers in María’s special pocket as long as he was wide awake and alert, but he did not want to risk a Mickey Finn and someone searching him between the island and Lisbon. So he smiled politely and said, “No, thanks, I’ve just had gallons.”

  “Would you care for a magazine?” she asked in her charming accent. “We have the latest American magazines, Esquire, Mad—”

  “No, thanks, I’ve brought some work.” And he did have a sheaf of magazines Dr. O’Keefe had given him, some American, some English, some European, in a number of which Dr. O’Keefe had articles. The first magazine he opened, an Australian one, had a lead article by T. S. Didymus, and Adam felt that this was somehow a propitious omen.

  He read the piece by Old Doc, smiling affectionately at the old man’s individual quirks of phrasing. Then he managed to lose himself in various other articles that caught his interest, grateful for the discipline of concentration he had learned at school. Dr. O’Keefe’s writing style was spare and clear, with unexpected, vivid illustrations, and a quick sense of humor. —How could I ever have thought he wasn’t okay? Adam wondered, and then remembered that his doubts were all seeded before he met the scientist, and that if it had not been for the New York fog for which Kali was so grateful, he might not be heading for Lisbon and danger now.

  But this was purposeless thinking. He shook himself and returned to the magazine, reading until the passengers from the hotel came aboard. A port
ly, porcine man with a briefcase settled himself beside Adam. The boy kept his nose in the magazine, determined not to be drawn into conversation, no matter how innocent. But the man appeared as averse to chitchat as Adam, opened his briefcase immediately, and set to work on a sheaf of papers, only grunting in assent as the stewardess offered him coffee.

  Adam read, holding his mind at bay. He managed not to think of the hours ahead, but discovered that he was not retaining anything from the articles in which he had thought he was engrossed.

  They landed at the small airport from which he and Joshua had taken off, and where he had first met Dr. Ball. A limousine was waiting outside to take the passengers into the center of Lisbon, and Adam found a seat, seeking the portly man as a seat companion so that he would be assured of silence.

  But the man did not reopen his briefcase. Instead he turned to Adam, smiled pleasantly, and said, “I’m Donald Green of the Singer Sewing Machine Company. Haven’t noticed you around the hotel.”

  Adam did not in his turn introduce himself. Instead he answered politely, “Well, no, sir, I haven’t been staying there.”

  “Is there any other place to stay on Gaea?”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  “Where? Except for the hotel it seems a jungle as far as I’m concerned.”

  Adam did not know how to get out of this one. “Well, I have a summer job with a scientist who has a laboratory there.” He tensed his body and mind for further questioning.

  But Mr. Green of the Singer Sewing Machine seemed satisfied. To Adam’s surprise he asked no more questions but went into a eulogy on the merits of his machines and how they were changing the entire life of the Iberian peninsula. “I feel that I’m doing a great service to these people. Tried to get those savages over in the Gaean village interested but was most rudely turned away.” Adam mumbled politely and Mr. Green of the Singer Sewing Machine continued to talk about his experiences until the limousine stopped.