Part 31 (1/2)

”Unfortunately, that's true. What did Zeke say to you? Will you tell me?”

”Certainly. He thinks that the invading aliens have a spy here already. He says the spy followed him across. Brother Belial? Then Caleb might be one of those human agents he spoke of.”

”He sure could. Zeke told Sarge some garbled story about the aliens soaking him with water. That could mean a rogue wave that didn't actually drown him. I'm seeing karmic gravity at work in this, pulling everything together into one big ugly mess.”

”Karmic gravity? Oh, yes, you did mention that once. You were having a joke on me.”

”No, I wasn't. It's actually a real principle. You can call it synchronicity if you prefer.”

Ari said nothing in the first real act of tact I'd ever seen from him. His SPP radiated a firm belief that I was crazy in my own lovable way.

”Well, look,” I said. ”Gravity is a property of ma.s.s, right? You get enough ma.s.s together in a lump, and it'll exert a pull on other objects.”

”After a manner of speaking, yes.”

”Okay. So you get enough psychic ma.s.s together, and the same thing happens. You, Itzak, Reb Zeke, me, Mike, Dad's gate to another level, both of your jobs and my job-here we all are in San Francisco, and we've created a gravitational pull. On top of that, you and I busted the coven together. I ensorcelled Doyle, and you-uh, well-disposed of Johnson. That made a karmic link. All of this together pulled Belial right into our orbit.”

Ari considered, then shrugged. I gathered he was unconvinced.

”I suppose we'd need to put my mother on your list, then,” he said. ”Ezekiel asked about her. He wants to go to London to find her, once he recovers. But he's not going to, is he?”

”Recover? No. Sorry.”

”I'll have to call Tzaki and tell him that the old man's gone.”

We observed a private moment of silence.

”I wonder,” I said eventually, ”if my mother will believe that the letter's really from Dad?”

”Judging from everything you've told me about her, I'd say no. Give the letter to Eileen, certainly, but let her decide what to do with it.”

My first thought: I wasn't asking your advice. Second thought: but you're right.

”Okay,” I said. ”I'll do that. Michael needs to know, though. And soon.”

”Of course.” With a sigh, Ari stretched his legs out in front of him. ”Apparently, I have a doppelganger. Reb Ezekiel called him Ari Nataniel. He thought I was him, that day in the park.” He paused for another sigh. ”I rather dislike all of this. Alien spies. Doppelgangers.” He turned his head and gave me the reproachful stare. ”Werewolves.”

”Life's hard, buddy,” I said.

Ari growled and crossed his arms over his chest. I let him simmer while I considered one of Dad's remarks in the letters, about the lines on Pat's palms. I'd never noticed them. Now I wondered if they had indicated the lycanthropy gene. If so, Dad would have been able to warn us before Pat's first change. Doubtless, he could have handled the problem a lot better than we all did. I began to feel personally aggrieved by the justice system of whatever world had taken him away.

Ari abruptly spoke. ”At the end of our visit, I promised Reb Ezekiel that I'd stop the alien invasion. He badly wanted to hear that. I wanted to give him what peace of mind I could.”

”That was really good of you.” I remembered the cold premonitions I'd had in the hospital parking lot. I could think of a number of things they might mean and decide to start with the most extreme.

”What if he was right?” I said. ”If there's going to be an alien invasion, stopping it would be a swell idea. I'm sure the Agency will provide you with backup-me, that is.”

Ari uncrossed his arms, turned toward me on the couch, and opened his mouth. He stayed that way for another minute or two, openmouthed and reproachful. Finally he said, ”Do you really think that-”

”I don't know if there will be or not. I'm just saying. It doesn't have to be flying saucers, y'know. That was his interpretation, but he was self-taught. I get the impression he never understood the ambiguity principle.”

”Which means?”

”The word, invasion, could mean anything from armed aliens in flying saucers down to an uprush of psychotic images into his own consciousness from the unconscious mind. There are all kinds of possibilities in between-illegal aliens from deviant levels, terrorists, stuff like that.”

Ari slumped down on the couch, rested his head on the cus.h.i.+ons, and muttered something in Hebrew.

”I'm going to report all this to the Agency,” I went on. ”Huh, the higher-ups have been calling us the Apocalypse Squad. They thought it was a joke, but they're all psychics, too. Maybe they struck a target that they don't even know exists.”

”My father was right. I should have been an insurance adjustor.”

I always took the reference to insurance adjustors as a signal that Ari had reached overload on the subject of psychic truths. One more, and he might experience mental meltdown.

”Let's go have some dinner,” I said. ”I'll just call Michael first.”

”Brilliant.” He sat up straight. ”And when the letter's been taken care of, we can go to bed early.”

”Sure. After all, I owe you twenty bucks.”

He glowered. I sighed.

”That's a joke,” I said.

”It's not very funny.”

”It really bothers you, doesn't it? When I pose as a s.e.x industry worker, I mean. Why?”

”What do you mean, why? I should think it would be obvious.”

”Strange. You're a holdover from the Victorian Age, and here I never noticed.”

”Besides.” The glower increased. ”s.e.x industry worker? What sort of stupid euphemism is that?”

”It's the preferred term around the Bay Area. The women use it themselves.”

Across the room, my cell phone rang. I stood up to fetch it, but Ari caught my wrist.

”Do you have to answer that right now?” he asked.

I considered as it rang again. ”Yeah,” I said. ”It's Michael.”

Ari let go of me, but his Qi felt ready to hit ”boil.” I went to my desk to answer the phone.

”Hey, Nola,” Michael said. ”Did you want to talk to me, like maybe a minute ago?”

”I sure did. Hang on a sec.” I glanced back and saw Ari straightening all the books and papers on the coffee table. Anger management had kicked in. ”I can talk now. What is this, you knew I wanted to talk with you?”

”I heard it loud and clear.”

”It sounds like you've got another talent coming online, the family mental overlap.”