Part 35 (1/2)
Pryor stood up slowly. The faces of the listeners changed. The orange fountain pen made a tiny scratching sound as the last few words were taken down.
Pryor turned toward Kruslov.
”Now that you know all the reasons, Captain, now that I have explained everything in detail, may I go home? I'll appreciate it if this is given no publicity.”
I swear that Kruslov was so shocked he almost said yes. He licked his lips and said, ”Oh no, Mr. Pryor! You can't go home.”
”Do you plan to detain me? Here?”
”I'm afraid I've got to.”
”Well, get your formalities over as soon as possible then. Will I be able to go home this evening?”
I saw the Kruslov brain begin to tick. He stood up and smiled and said, ”Mr. Pryor, rest a.s.sured that we'll take care of all this just as efficiently as we know how. If you'll come along with me, sir?”
They half bowed to each other. As they went out the door together, Willis Pryor said, ”Remember now. No publicity. And I'd like to talk to Jud Sutton as soon as possible. Get him for me, please.”
”Right this way, Mr. Pryor,” Kruslov said gently.
We were all left in the room. Somebody sighed. Then we all filed out of there, not looking at each other. We all shared some nameless guilt. We'd all seen the s.h.i.+ning structures fall, the streets decay, the walls crumble. We didn't want anything to do with each other. Maybe we had all resigned from the human race a little bit.
Young John Olan was standing in the main corridor when I left. n.o.body seemed to want me, so I left. A reporter had edged up to me and I had snarled at him.
John Olan was studying a pocket chessboard.
”More prepared variations?”
I startled him. He recognized me and smiled at me.
”That's right.”
He jerked his head toward the other end of the corridor, the official end.
”He did it? My father and my sister?”
”Yes. I'm sorry.”
His eyes were dark mirrors, reflecting nothing. His mouth moved in a quick grimace of pain, wiped out immediately.
He looked back at the board in his hand. I no longer existed. He was back in a special clean geometric world, where the G.o.d was reason, where the G.o.ddess was logic, where hearts were prisms, cold and true and neatly cut.
Perhaps it was a good world to hide in.
I left him and walked slowly to my car in the late afternoon suns.h.i.+ne. A thunder front was rolling up the sky, and the sun was beginning to be misted, and the city was full of an orange light, lambent and ominous.
Chapter 11.
I missed Dodd's funeral. Toni drove me out to the airport in my car and I caught flight 818 to New York at one twenty P.M. on Monday, in accordance with the terse telegram I had received.