Chapter 14
"So Vicky says that I am not a good friend.." Carolyn asked Barnabas.
"She says that there was never real friendship between you."
"But we were friends! We shared things. Sure, I was mean at time, but she did not mind."
"She minds now. She says that she did not mind because she wanted to keep her job. Now.."
"But I was never that mean! And they were such minor things. Look I was young and stupid... Nothing that really mattered. I cannot believe that she is so petty as to abandon me now because of some past slights."
"I guess that she is sore because you never apologized for them."
"Apologize? What for?"
"For all the mean things you did and said."
"But they meant nothing!"
Barnabas could now see the problem close by. Vicky was right. Carolyn had been taught to accept only unquestioning devotion as her due. She had a lot to learn if she was ever to have a real friend...
It was then that the telephone rang.
It was an old man. His body was feeble, Adam could see. But we would not describe King Ruslan Romano as weak. His eyes were bright and alert, and for all of his infirmity, the old man was far from helpless.
"So you have returned to us, Zoya." he said, with a thin, raspy voice. "Why have you come, granddaughter? And who is this gadjo you brought with you?"
"I am not gadjo" Adam protested.
"You claim to be a gypsy?"
"No. I am neither."
"Neither gypsy nor gadjo, then..."
"Old man." suddenly Adam was bold. "You tell me what I am. Then you'll know why I came."
The man's eyes grew flinty at the disrespect, then humorous. "You challenge me, then?" he stroked his chin. "You are bold. Bold as a horse thief., indeed."
"Or a car thief, nowadays?"
"Yes. Times change." the old man agreed. " and if we are to live, we must accept change and make it work for us. Come to me, not-gadjo and not-gypsy. Let me read your riddle."
Adam extended his hand and King Ruslan studied it.
"There is gadjo in you. And there is gypsy too."
It was true. One of the bodies that Lang had used had been that of a young gypsy.
"You were not born of man and woman. And yet you were born through a man and a woman. Not from their bodies. They did not touch to conceive you. They met across tables crossed with wires and lights. There was love of the woman for the man, but not in him for her. And no love in either of them for you. They brought you forth to solve their problems, not for your sake."
"You are right, old man." Adam pulled his hand away, shaken.
"You were born of the grave." Ruslan continued. "Unnaturally."
"So you know what I am. Do you know why I came?"
"You have gone through a sea-change. You wish to be like other men. And you wish to be free of the anger inside you."
Adam gulped "This is right again, King Ruslan."
"King Ruslan indeed." then old man grinned. "For the first time you acknowledge my title. The gypsy part of you acknowledges it. And I know the gypsy in you. He did not believe in our ways. He saw the change in the world and wanted more of it. He left us to seek his future and found death."
"You said it well, King. I desire to be like other men. There is this woman who will marry me willingly, yet I dare not while this anger in me threatens those around me."
"Are you willing to accept our ways?'"
"I am ready to try anything."
"Is that the truth?"
"King Ruslan, I am a desperate man. I could make any promises you care to extract from me. And I would keep them, if not our of honor, out of fear of the powers you have."
"Then stay with us, my son, and never leave us again."
Adam shook his head. "No, that I can."
"You are my son, Anton Romano, who left us to seek life outside the gypsy world and found death instead. You have finally learned the folly of your actions and have returned."
"I am not your son!" Adam rose. "I am sorry, but you are wrong."
King Ruslan muttered a few words, and Adam found that he could not move nor speak.
"No, my son, you will not leave us again."
He went to his cabinet and took the mummified hand out. He touched it to Adam's forehead. "Remember now what you have forgotten, my son."
Adam's expression changed.
"Who are you?"
"I am Anton Romano. I am your son."
Zoya cursed under her breath. Now this. Getting the hand for herself was going to be a lot tougher than she thought at first. If Hallie had not put a seal of silence in her... if she could ask for the tribe's assistance.
But she could not. She had to figure out a way to get the hand and run with it.
"Burned alive?" Barnabas would still not absorb it. "How could that have happened?"
"Smoking in bed." George said with a weariness that came form experience. "What Willie worried might happen."
"But I forbade him to."
"Evidently it was not strong enough. You forbade him to dink, too, and it did not work. Do not blame yourself. You tried and it was not enough.
"To die like that..."
"I know. It is terrible."
"I only wanted to give him a roof over his head, a decent bed, decent food. Things that he had not had for a long tine."
"I know you did. But it was not meant to be. At least Urien is all right. He has burns in his hands from putting the flames out in Loomis."
"Urien." Barnabas froze, un unpleasant thought coming into his mind.
"The old man had been smoking in bed, hadn't he?" he asked.
"There was what was left of a pack of cigarettes over the nightstand. We did not find the cigarettes...Plenty of ashes, thought. You realize that the sheets caught fire, don't you?"
Yes. It was likely that. Willie had said it often enough, that one day the old man would set fire to the house...
But it was also true that Urien had set a wino on fire, once...
Xavier waited, with binoculars in hand and a camera by his side. Tripod, flashes, and all the refinements of twentieth century technology.
And maybe tonight he'd get the proof.
Too bad about Barnabas, about having to tell him not to come. It was not a nice way to repay him for having stood up to Verhoff.
But gratitude or the lack of it had nothing to do with this. It was a scientific study. Somewhere there was something that disturbed his collection of data, so it was his duty to do something about it. Most of the time it involved raising the temperature of the room or sterilizing the equipment. This time it meant keeping Barnabas away.
He hoped that the U.F.O. would show up tonight. It was getting colder and he did not like the idea of spending the night like this, getting his feet wet, when he could be in bed with Sandy.
For, surprising s it was, after all those years, he had finally met a woman who meant more to him than this U.F.O. business... Perhaps if he had not neglected his first wife, his children would not nave ended up as venture capitalists...
He looked up at the sky. He gave it fifteen minutes more. If it didn't come back, he'd call it a day before he got pneumonia, and go back to Sandy.
And, as if put on notice that it could not keep people waiting forever, the U.F.O. appeared.
Xavier grabbed his camera.
"No. Don't take pictures."
Xavier froze. Had he heard words? His hand was no the camera, but would not move any further. There was a paralysis on him. Not paralysis, just a failure of will. He cold not make himself WANT to move his fingers.
"No photos, Xavier" the voice repeated. "We have to talk, you and I."
There was a shaft of light, coming from the spaceship, and it looked like a pathway. It looked almost solid...
Had a door opened there? Did he hear voices?
"Come up, Xavier, and meet us."