§ § § - April 11, 1981
In less than half an hour they had visitors: Delphine MacNabb and Greg Randolph poked their heads in the door. "Hello, anyone home?" Delphine called.
Roarke instantly abandoned his chair and came to meet her as she stepped into the foyer, with Greg Randolph, Tattoo and a very curious Leslie looking on as they hugged each other and Roarke even spun her around once. "Ah, welcome home, my child!" he exclaimed, beaming. He caught himself, took in her face and observed, "Child! I can't call you that any longer." Delphine shook her head in smiling agreement. "You have blossomed into a full-grown woman!"
"And I'm about to become a wife," Delphine added brightly. "Uncle, I want you to marry us."
Greg Randolph seemed questioning, and Roarke turned to him, explaining, "As chief magistrate of the island, I do, of course, have that authority..."
Greg grinned and made a conciliatory gesture. "Like the captain of a ship."
"Precisely," concurred Roarke.
Tattoo chuckled, plainly delighted. "How romantic."
"Tattoo, since this is Mr. Randolph's first visit to Fantasy Island, perhaps you would like to show him around, huh?" Roarke suggested.
"But boss, I thought Miss MacNabb would do that," Tattoo said quizzically.
"Uh, well, if you don't mind, gentlemen, I should like to talk to my goddaughter in private," Roarke explained.
Tattoo capitulated with grace, and Greg came around to give Delphine a couple of gentle kisses. "See you later," he said.
"This way, Mr. Randolph," Tattoo said, and led Greg out through the French shutters. Leslie watched them go, wondering whether she would be told to accompany them, but when she took a step in that direction, Roarke stopped her.
"No, Leslie, I suggest you stay," he said. "After all, you and Delphine haven't properly met, and under the circumstances, I think you should get acquainted."
"Under what circumstances?" Leslie asked.
"The fact that you are my ward, for one thing," Roarke said, and she hunched her shoulders with a sheepish grin at Delphine's broad smile. Roarke noticed the interested look on his goddaughter's face and swiftly summarized Leslie's history and how she had come to be his ward; Delphine nodded and shook hands with Leslie.
"News of Julie?" Roarke inquired and turned to Leslie. "Delphine has a younger sister, Julie, who I believe is in college."
"And in the thick of studying for final exams," Delphine concurred. "She wanted to come for the wedding, but she just couldn't get away. I promised there'll be plenty of pictures to show her. She'll be graduating in less than two months."
"Wonderful!" Roarke said, smiling broadly.
Delphine nodded, then pulled in a breath and turned to him. "Well, uncle—" She caught herself. "You don't mind me calling you that, do you?" Roarke shook his head, and she remarked with a grin, " 'Godfather' just doesn't seem right after that Marlon Brando movie, you know?" Roarke chuckled and smoothed some of Delphine's hair back from her face, then fingered her chin in a paternal manner that made Delphine smile before inquiring hopefully, "What do you think of my Greg?"
"He seems like a fine young man," Roarke observed, gazing out the French shutters where Greg had lately been. "Bright, earnest, and, uh...very practical, I would say."
Delphine made an assenting noise and nodded. "He's on his way to the top. The youngest entertainment manager the Calvert Hotel chain ever had."
"Indeed!" said Roarke, impressed. He gestured to the settee by the shuttered windows. "Let's sit over there, huh?"
Delphine agreed, and Roarke dropped a hand on Leslie's shoulder long enough to gesture her in that direction as well. Once they were seated, Roarke began, "About your fantasy...I suggest that we begin by consulting your family papers." He picked up a folder from the table near the settee and opened it. "We will need your birth certificate, of course, and certain other documents..." Leslie saw him slant Delphine a sidelong look before shifting his gaze toward the built-in bookshelves at his right; Delphine, studying the contents of the folder, missed this altogether. Roarke eyed Delphine once more before adding, "You will find your family bible over there on that top shelf."
Delphine started to get up, then checked herself and got a particular look about her; settling herself on the edge of the settee, she flicked her left hand in a practiced, casual motion. Something—a movement, a slight noise—drew Leslie's attention to the bookshelf; her mouth dropped wide open when a book slid right off, as if of its own volition, and floated through the air, landing neatly in Delphine's hands.
She caught the book, smiled, then grimaced. "Darn it, I forgot!"
"Precisely," Roarke said in a matter-of-fact tone. "What you did was instinctive, perfectly natural to you." He seemed not to see Leslie's speechless, flabbergasted mien. "Must I remind you that you are not an ordinary mortal? You have inherited certain powers known as the Gift of the MacNabbs."
Delphine shot him an incredulous look. "It's not a gift, it's a curse! And I don't want it anymore! I never asked for it. All I want is to be a normal, happy wife!" Roarke sat up, a pensive look on his face, and took her hand; her voice dropped as she appealed, "I love Greg very much. Please help me."
Roarke looked down at her hand—the one adorned with her engagement ring—and inquired, "Have you told him about...your problem?"
"Oh, no," Delphine exclaimed as Roarke examined the ring. "I don't think I could ever make him understand! You have to help me get rid of the gift."
Roarke gave her a surprised look, then released her hand and arose, saying, "Oh, I'm afraid that's not possible. However, your magic gift can be controlled, by concentration—willpower."
Delphine sighed and got up to approach him, while Leslie stared on, still at a loss for words and wondering why in the world Delphine considered her gift a curse. "I'm willing to try anything," the young woman said, leaping to her feet and approaching Roarke.
Roarke studied her and advised, "Remember, a true, deep love can often achieve more than strength. Now, I will do all I can to help you, of course—but in the final analysis, only you—and you alone—can solve the problem." He kissed her cheek and smiled.
Leslie didn't realize she was shaking her head till Roarke turned to her and Delphine followed suit. "Is something wrong, Leslie?" he asked.
"Oh...no, nothing," Leslie said, sighing. "I guess it's just...I mean, wow."
Delphine grinned ruefully. "If you ever get to meet Julie, you'll wonder how on earth we could possibly be sisters. I have the powers, she doesn't; we don't even look related, and we're twelve years apart on top of that. Julie always wanted the gift." She turned back to Roarke. "And right now, I wish I could give it to her." With a disgusted sigh, she murmured an excuse and let herself out.
"So..." Leslie began, trying to find the best way to phrase her questions. "So...she has this...um, this magic ability...but how come she does and Julie doesn't?"
Roarke chuckled again. "I'm afraid it's a long story, Leslie, and one I don't have time to tell you just now. We have an appointment with Dr. Todd and Miss Drake. Perhaps you'll have a chance to ask Delphine herself, later on." He gestured toward the foyer, and she got up and accompanied him out; they took a rover to the bungalow where Paul Todd and Elizabeth Drake were staying, and picked them up for a drive down to the western side of the island, where the terrain was wilder and less populated with flora than the eastern end.
"My theory is based on many years of personal research," Dr. Todd explained as they pulled up to where another rover and a driver waited for them. "It's that, somewhere in the earth's early development, there had to be a life form, structured on an element other than carbon." Roarke nodded with interest, while Elizabeth and Leslie gazed on.
"And have your studies identified that element?" Roarke inquired.
"The most abundant element in the earth's crust, next to oxygen," Todd said, absently polishing his glasses as he spoke. "Silicon."
Elizabeth began, "I've helped Paul—" Roarke's gaze sharpened slightly, and Elizabeth grinned as if caught out, correcting herself. "...Dr. Todd...organize his material, Mr. Roarke. Mathematically, there had to be that moment in the earth's history, in some semi-molten stage, when conditions were perfect for the emergence of organisms based on silicon."
"I see," said Roarke, reaching out for the piece of white rock Elizabeth held, while Leslie leaned over the hood of the car, looking on. "May I?" Elizabeth gave him the rock, and he peered at it. "The moment of creation...the sun and the primeval mud, and an unimagined life form stirring in a fiery chaos. A creature fashioned of silicon, instead of flesh and blood."
Dr. Todd and Elizabeth looked impressed. "Exactly," Todd said with high approval. "Now, how do I prove my theory?"
"Perhaps you will find it here, on Fantasy Island, Dr. Todd," Roarke said. "But you must be aware: even here, I can only create the conditions—the potential—for what you ask. I can give no guarantees."
"I understand that," Todd said with a calm nod.
"There could also be great potential danger," Roarke added, handing the rock back to Elizabeth. Todd watched him do so and eyed her for a moment.
"I know that, Mr. Roarke," she said. "But I'm a scientist too, and danger sometimes goes with the job."
Roarke regarded them with a quick lift of the brows and a thoughtful nod before acceding. "Very well." He started for the second rover waiting nearby. "Uh...that mineral specimen you showed me, Miss Drake, is identical to rocks found at the northern tip of this island, where you and Dr. Todd will be going." As he spoke, he extracted a rolled-up map from the second rover and removed the rubber band holding it together, while gesturing toward the nearby rocky beach and the cliffs that made up the northernmost-reaching point of the island. The surf here was noisy but soothing.
"There are bands of pure silica in them?" Elizabeth Drake exclaimed.
"Oh, indeed," Roarke said. "May I show you?" Leslie watched Todd and Elizabeth fall in beside Roarke while her guardian spread out the map on the hood of the second rover. "This is where the rock formations are found; the area is volcanic. This is the crater here." He pointed to a spot on the map. "But you must be careful; the rock is very unstable here in certain spots. Also, I must point out to you that the natives say the volcano is haunted." His features broke into a smile, as if he found this funny and expected his guests to agree that it was just silly superstition. Sure enough, they both grinned back. "It is taboo to the local people; therefore, I regret that I cannot provide you with any helpers. I am terribly sorry."
"Oh, I understand, I understand," Dr. Todd assured him.
"You're very kind," said Roarke. "Uh...you will find all the supplies you need, I believe..." He gestured toward the back of the second rover. "And if you will just follow this trail, you will be on your way."
Todd rolled up the map and handed it to Elizabeth. "Mr. Roarke, again, I thank you," he said happily, moving around his host to get into the driver's seat of the rover. Elizabeth echoed him, going for the passenger seat; Roarke nodded, and as Todd started the car and made ready to pull out, Roarke said, "Good luck."
"I hope you find what you're looking for," Leslie called. Todd and Elizabeth both waved at her and drove away down the secondary road where they had pulled off the Ring Road. She rounded the rover in which they had arrived while the driver who had brought Todd's car went to get into the back seat.
"Good luck in your search for primordial life," Roarke murmured, watching the departing car. Leslie peered up at him.
"Do you think they'll find anything?" she asked. "I mean...if the natives around here say that volcano's haunted, and since this is Fantasy Island and all...I bet they'll come up with something, even if all they do is prove that whatever's supposed to be haunting that cinder cone is just a wild jungle animal."
Roarke regarded her and grinned. "You never know, my child, you never know," he said. "We'd better get back home; there's plenty to do."
They had been back at the main house for perhaps half an hour, with Leslie opening mail and Roarke perusing some fantasy-request letters she had set aside especially for his inspection the afternoon before, when she heard footsteps on the terrace outside and peered through the open French shutters. From her angle she couldn't see anyone, but after a moment Roarke—without turning at all—invited, "Come and sit down, Mr. Zachariah. Please." Leslie stared at him, then shook her head and grinned to herself. Maybe someday she could manage to hide her surprise at her guardian's tricks!
A couple of seconds later, in strolled an older man in a rather old-fashioned gray business suit and a hat; he sported a fog-gray mustache and goatee that matched whatever hair emerged from beneath the hat. He made as if to tip said hat at Leslie without actually doing so, and focused on Roarke, rounding Leslie's chair. "Mr. Roarke, how nice to see you," he said, lifting his hands in greeting. It was then that Leslie saw that for some reason he wore white gloves, and in one hand he carried a cane which appeared to be more of an affectation than a necessity.
"May I inquire what brings you here at this particular time?" Roarke asked in a cool voice, without ever looking up from the page of the letter he was perusing.
Zachariah parked himself in a club chair. "Dear Delphy's wedding, of course."
At that Roarke finally did look up, with a mildly surprised expression, and set aside the page. "That's odd. She didn't mention having invited you."
"Delphy is the best assistant I ever had in my magic act," Zachariah explained with an expansive, paternal smile.
"Oh, I am sure," Roarke agreed, with a deceptively warm smile of his own, "and you have no intention of losing her; in fact, you came here to stop the wedding."
"On the contrary, my dear fellow," Zachariah protested. "If you have no objection, I intend to ask Delphy to let me have the honor of giving away the bride."
Roarke's gaze chilled, and for the first time Leslie began to get a sense of foreboding as he said firmly, "Mr. Zachariah, I must insist that you do not speak to Miss MacNabb or Mr. Randolph before the ceremony. I will convey your request to her."
Zachariah seemed to have no response for that; he peered up at Roarke with a somewhat consternated expression. Roarke's cool smile never wavered as he got to his feet and stared the magician down. "Mr. Zachariah," he said, that deceptive smile widening and acquiring a definite warning tinge, "I would be most upset if anyone, for any reason, in any way..." The smile vanished and his stare grew almost menacing. "...interfered with my goddaughter's plans."
Zachariah glanced away, his eyes popping for a moment with the clear understanding that he was up against someone formidable whom he'd best not cross. "Oh, I assure you," he said in a slightly rattled voice, "I shan't say a word to her. Not a word." Roarke smiled a little and nodded, but Leslie hoped her guardian had better sense than to believe it.
"Well." Zachariah seemed to realize that Roarke had nothing further to say to him, and got to his feet. "It was good seeing you. And nice to meet you, young lady..." His voice trailed off expectantly.
"My ward, Leslie," Roarke supplied. "And be advised, you are not to disturb her in any way, either."
"Message received," said Zachariah. "Good day to you both." He strolled back out the French shutters, idly swinging his cane as he went.
Leslie waited till he was well out of sight before she looked back at Roarke, who had settled back onto the edge of the desk again and returned to the letter he was reading. "Mr. Roarke...do you really think he's gonna listen to you?"
"I'm sure he won't," Roarke said without looking up from the page, "but he will never be able to claim he wasn't warned." With that, he turned to her and winked, and she let out a delighted laugh and resumed sorting through letters.
No sooner had they settled down from their confrontation with Zachariah than a tall man whose hair and mustache had begun going gray arrived, introduced himself as Kyle Mason, and announced he was looking for Paul Todd and Elizabeth Drake. Roarke nodded. "Ah yes! I admit to having wondered why they didn't mention you. I presume you plan to join them on their expedition."
"That's the idea," Mason said.
Roarke regarded him with some suspicion before nodding. "Very well. If you will go to the hotel, you will find a jeep there waiting for you. It contains all the provisions you'll need for the weekend. You need only take a left from this lane and follow the coastal road approximately twenty-five miles; then you will see a branch road off to your right that roughly follows the outline of the cliffs there. Take that, and you will catch up with Dr. Todd and Miss Drake."
Mason nodded and shook hands with him. "Thanks, Mr. Roarke." He strode out without acknowledging Leslie at all.
"He's with Dr. Todd?" she asked when Mason was gone.
"A colleague of his," Roarke said. "I couldn't stop him from coming to the island, but I am afraid that Miss Drake at least will not be very happy to see him." So saying, he nodded at the letters that sat in front of her. Shaking her head at his cryptic demeanor, she told herself that all the explanations would probably come forth on Monday morning, and got back to work with a quiet little sigh.