CHAPTER 4: Fly, fly fly…

All Deputy Assistant Inspector General Krendler looked at her blankly. "Have you lost your fucking mind, Starling?"

She blinked. "No, sir, I…"

"PMS?"

"Mr. Krendler, I really have no interest in your opinion. They'll have to find replacement. Behavioral Science is more than popular among field agents, so it won't take long".

"Ms Starling" – Krendler stepped closer so that he could have a better view down her blouse – "There are more important things I must devote my attention to. I have no desire in being your messenger"

Well fuck off Krendler. "I understand fully, sir. Have a good day"

He looked after her as she quickly made her way down the corridor. Starling, Clarice M., one of Jack Crawford's. The Guru was now expecting her to come directly to Behavioral Science, the FBI section that deals with serial murder, since she'd already gone trough all the routine in FBI Field Offices. Krendler came in Quantico on business and now was more then willing to pull some strings for this blondie. Then he could ask her out. Tit for tat.

But Starling wasn't going anywhere, neither to Washington, DC nor to Behavioral Science, which she coldly asked him to notify Section Chief about.

And for some reason, she'd been avoiding talking to Crawford in person.

That's… strange.

Mr. Leiser, Starling's boss in Quantico, had an annoying habit to thrum on anything he could get his fingers on.

"I'll need your whereabouts, Starling" – he said suddenly slapping his palms onto the table.Clarice made a successful effort not to flinch.

"Why, sir?"

"Well that's procedure. We don't let off our best agents that easily. You always can change your mind. Although, I must admit I don't welcome at all that kind of behavior. You have a double major in psychology and criminology, two years in Field Offices… And of course -- the capture of a serial killer. That's quite a promising career. Look at me, Clarice" – He leaned over – "Do you really want to leave all this for some kind of gig temping? Tomorrow you'll have to go to the local labour exchange and sign on… unless you haven't found yourself a filthy rich hubby"

Starling said nothing.

"Alright. Can I use the address listed in your file?" Chemison started to gather her papers.

"No"

He looked up at her. "Are you leaving the town?"

"Yes"

"Give me a working email address"

"I've put the commendation inside" – He continued, pointing at the paper-case in Clarice's hands as she rose to leave. "You'll have to come over by 1700 hours Monday to complete the 'discharge'. O.K., Starling, all the best".

"On behalf of Captain Hoover and your crew we welcome you aboard our early flight to Buenos Aires…"

The cabin lights were dimmed for takeoff and a few minutes later the plane began moving, taxiing down to reach the takeoff runway. Clarice peered out of the window as she answered her cell phone.

"Starling"

"Clarice, please tell me it's not true"

"Hey Delia"

"Yes or no: did you resign?"

"Yes"

"I'm sorry, but are you out of your fucking mind!" Ardelia Mapp is gone to Seattle on the federal case. She's got a boyfriend and a cupboard full of delft ware. "Jesus, Starling, I thought they all have gone crazy over there! What the fuck happened to you, what is it? I'm just… I have no words…"

"I'm okay, Ardelia, really. I'm okay and I'm out"

"Girl, listen, we went all the way through the Academy together and I never expected such a thing from you… to say the least. Did they treat you that bad at the Field Office?"

"No, I was told I'm one of the best agents"

"Then WHY did you resign for goodness sake?" A new helpless note in Mapp's voice. Something Clarice never heard before.

"Ardelia, I'm pregnant" Even though Starling was prepared for the dump silence that followed, it was so frigid she nearly thought the line went dead.

"You've really gotta stop to act like another person completely, Clarice Starling"

"Delia, no kidding around, I really am expecting"

"Shut it Starling, shut up. I have to prepare mentally. You've already done more damage to my psycho than all those serial killers".

Starling laughed. "No doubt"

As usual, Mapp got to the point at once. "Who's the father?"

Dr Hannibal Lecter. "Um, this guy from IKEA, we were dating for 2 months or so"

"Thanks for telling me! Hey, hold on there. Why the Past Tense?"

"BEcause we split up"

"Oh, shit, really? God it's so like men. But… he knows?"

"No"

"Oh, uh – ok, great. Next question. Are you going to…um…are you gonna keep it? How far along are you?"

"Two months. Ardelia, I'll keep this child and I'll bring it up"

"All on your own?"

Daddy must be somewhere behind watching if there aren't any loose ends left. He's booked an only de luxe suite in Claridge Hotel; an act bordering with whimsy, but it could not be any other way. Hannibal Lecter's mind is already made up. He knows with absolute certainty who he is and who everyone else is around him. Taste serves him as a regulating system where any defect brings a whiff of absolute chaos.

"Yeah all on my own, hon"

Beats of silence. "Okay, Starling, don't you panic. I'm on your side. Listen, they'll keep me here for another pair of days, and then I'll drop in and cook for you…"

"Delia, I'm not there, I've left Quantico. I need some refreshment, girl" She felt like a card-sharper at the showdown. "I'm on my way to Europe"

"Who are you and what have you done to my friend?"

"Now listen to me. I may be gone for quite a while, but I'll be fine and more than fine. Just don't let anyone named Paul Krendler or any other idiot moron from the Deputy in the door, okay?" Starling was looking at the endless expanse of clouds, unbroken and milky white, beneath her.

In the Beginning Harris created 'Silence of the lambs'. And Harris said: 'Let there be a book" and there was the book. And Demme saw that the book was good; and he invited Hopkins over there... Many years passed, and then the Lecterphiles appeared.