Firefly. Part 3

"Because I'm..." he said, his following words mumbled and incomprehensible.

"I didn't hear. Because you're what?"

He tried again. "Impotent."

That made her pause. "You can't react-but it made you react?"

He nodded miserably.

This could be significant indeed, as a confirmation of her conjecture. "Mr. Demerit, let me explain what may have happened, and I will not talk of this elsewhere. You may have a psychological condition, as some men do, and there is really no shame in it; it happens to most at some time in their lives, and the equivalent to women. I suspect I suffer from something similar myself. But pheromones can cut through that and have an effect anyway. They are not psychological, they are physical. They make the body react on its own. So this is evidence that this is the case here; that body was doused in pheromones, and we can feel the lingering effect."

He was surprised. "You too?"

"Yes, I felt it; that's why I asked. I a.s.sure you I am not keen on s.e.x, so I was suspicious when I felt that particular effect. I think we have learned something important, though this is hardly what I antic.i.p.ated."

He looked relieved. "I thought I was turned on by a corpse."

She smiled. "No. There is nothing psychological here. It's a chemical influence, and evidently it affected the hunter and brought him to his death. And I think we had better get well away from here before nightfall, because if whatever did this to him stalks at night-"

He nodded emphatically, and turned to retrace their route. She followed, not objecting to the pace. She was getting scared herself.

She made it up the steep slope of the ramp at a rate she had hardly thought possible, and followed him at a brisk pace back the way they had come. She no longer noticed the scenery; she just wanted to get back to her car, her bastion of safety. The thought of being consumed by a monster horrified her, but the thought of being lured or compelled s.e.xually by it was worse. Was it like those exotic plants that imitated the sight and scent of female insects, so that the males of those species tried to mate with the surrogates and were caught? Could this monster emulate the male as well as the female, so that creatures of either s.e.x were vulnerable? She greatly feared this was the case, and she most emphatically wanted not to become a victim. The ground seemed to tilt, sending her stumbling. She lurched past small pine, almost colliding. When she had been told to drive to Florida, she had visualized hotels along white beaches, with graceful coconut palms, their fronds waving in the sea breeze. This was far different, here in the interior! Oaks and pines and deep mine pits. But there certainly was sand! And heat.

She tried to go on, but the globe tilted again; it was all she could do to keep her feet. What was happening?

Then Demerit loomed close. "...matter?" he asked.

"I'm all right," she said, and took a step, and found the sand coming up at her.

"Heat stroke," he said. "Get you to shade." He put his hands under her arms and hauled her, feet dragging, to the impressive shade of a spreading live oak tree. Spanish moss dangled down in ma.s.ses like stalact.i.tes, forming a partial canopy.

"No!" she protested, pointlessly.

He propped her up against the trunk. "...fetch water," he said. "You rest. I'll be back."

She struggled to rise. "I don't-"

"Wait there," he said. "Won't be long."

She realized that this made sense. Heat stroke? It was possible. Her suit was sweat-sodden, but her hands were dry; she wasn't sweating now. Exhaustion, perhaps. Now that she was sitting still, in shade, she felt better. Probably it wasn't serious, just a combination of things, which was pa.s.sing as she relaxed. But she probably would do best to wait for his return.

Then she remembered the monster. Suppose it stalked her during Demerit's absence?

* 5 - GEODE LEFT HER under the tree, flushed and fainting. He didn't like her, but she had done him one favor: she had clarified what had happened when he moved that body. Pheromones-that explained a lot. Smell-traces that set someone off involuntarily. It was what brought all the male dogs when a b.i.t.c.h was in heat. It had nothing to do with appearance or personality; it was just a straight signal to the genitals. So it had made him have an erection, even though he couldn't do the same with a woman. He only wished he hadn't had to tell her.

But she was working for Mid, and he worked for Mid, and he had put in the report about the dead hunter. He had to cooperate. At least now it wasn't just his responsibility; the Flowers woman could decide what to do about the hunter. If Mid had sent her, she was competent; she would know what to do. Just as soon as he got her some water, and got back to her car, so she could be on her way.

He was moving fast, now that he was alone. He had learned to run with a minimum expenditure of energy, so that he didn't get as hot as he might have, but on a day like this there was no way to avoid sweating. He should have realized that the woman couldn't keep the pace. He hoped he had stopped her in time; heat stroke was no casual business, but she hadn't quite reached that stage, and should be all right if she stayed in place.

He pa.s.sed her car at the corner and ran on down beside the road. In another five minutes he reached the house. The alarm went off as he unlocked and opened the door; he stepped in and punched 1206 to make it stop. He fetched a canteen, filled it, punched 12 to arm the system again, and headed for his bike; he could make it back much faster and cooler on that.

The door-chime rang. Geode paused while it completed eight bongs. That meant the far entrance gate. Who could be coming this time?

He could ignore it, and the visitor would go away, a.s.suming that no one was here. But Geode didn't like to do that; he was here to attend to whatever needed attending, and not many cars came here without reason. For all he knew, it could be Mid himself. He had better see what it was. But he couldn't spare much time, because that woman was out there alone, and so was the monster, and he didn't know how avidly it stalked people. Mid might not care what happened to a poaching hunter, but he would care about his investigator!

He compromised. Opened the door again and shut off the alarm. He punched 01 to open the gate, then rearmed, closed the door, and continued to the bike. He would intercept the car on its way in, and with luck be rid of it quickly so he could get to the Flowers woman.

He rode swiftly up the road, winding around the edge of the planted slash pines, and to the north-south straightaway leading up to the corner. He saw the parked car.

Oops! The visitor would have to pa.s.s right by that on the way in. Well, what did it matter? This was a private drive, and a private car could be on it if Geode didn't object. He needed to offer no explanation for it.

Then he saw that the incoming car had stopped just west of the Flowers car. What was it doing?

But as he came closer, he understood. It was Deputy Tishner! The worst possible visitor right now!

He rolled up to the two cars. Tishner was standing outside, noting the license tag. He glanced up at Geode. "Friend of yours?"

"No." But he knew that wouldn't put the man off.

"Then it must be a trespa.s.ser. I'll buzz the station and have a tow truck out here to take it away."

"No!" Geode protested. "I know the owner. Just-" He couldn't think of anything to say. He knew Mid didn't want Flowers's presence here known, because then someone might catch on why she was here.

Tishner contemplated him. "Demerit, come clean. You lied to me before, and the only reason you're not lying now is you can't think fast enough. What's going on here?"

Geode was at a loss. He had never been apt at dealing with people, and the authoritative ones were the worst. He couldn't tell the truth, and he couldn't evade it, and he couldn't afford any long delay.

"Got something to do with that missing hunter?" Tishner prompted. "Now don't try to lie again; I can see I'm on to something here. Come clean, and we'll get along fine."

That was what Geode couldn't do. But what was he to do? He was in trouble either way.

"Let me tell you something, Demerit," Tishner said. "I'm on two cases now. One's the missing hunter, and I've traced him here, or close to it. The other's the bags of bones. Are they connected?" He stared at Geode, and read the truth there. "Yeah, I figured they were. And your boss doesn't want a noise, to mess up his hideaway. I'll make you a deal: you tell me what you know, and I'll keep your boss's name out of it. I know you didn't go out killing any poachers, you're just covering up on orders. I don't know what this car's doing here-but I'll bet it's related. You help me, I'll help you. Deal?" He put out his big hand.

Geode considered. He knew there was no way to get rid of the man now, but he wasn't sure how much he could tell him. "I'll take you to someone who knows," he said.

"Okay." The deputy sheriff pushed his hand forward, and Geode had to take it. They had a deal, of a sort.

"She's in the forest, a quarter mile. Heat stroke, maybe. I was taking water to her."

"I'll help you get her back here. Lead on, MacDuff!"

The man thought he didn't recognize the allusion to Shakespeare. Geode put his bike in low gear and headed north. The deputy followed afoot, making fair time in the sand, but expending a lot more energy. They squeezed through the hedge and moved on. In a few minutes they reached the live oak.

The Flowers woman was there, in good order. Geode stopped the bike and handed her the canteen as she stood. "He intercepted me. You'll have to talk to him."

She unscrewed the cap and drank. By that time the deputy huffed up. Geode hoped she had figured out what to say.

"Come on, woman, it's hot out here," Tishner said. "Let's get you to your car, and we'll talk. I know something's up, and I figure you must work for Middleberry and you know something I need to know. Here, I'll give you a hand." He reached for her elbow.

She rejected it. "I'm all right. I merely became fatigued."

"And you sure don't want to be beholden to a man for anything," Tishner said.

She glared at him, but did not debate it. It was evident that they didn't like each other any better than Geode liked either of them.

As they trekked back toward the cars, Tishner repeated what he had said to Geode. "So I think you're better off working with me than against me," he concluded. "If I have to run down the rest of this myself, I won't owe you anything."

By the time they reached the cars, the Flowers woman had evidently made up her mind. "All right, I'll talk to him," she said to Geode. "You may stay or go, as you choose."

Geode was relieved. "I have to check the rest of the ranch." He mounted his bike and rode off, back into the forest.

* 6 - FRANK SAT IN his car with the woman, running the motor and the air conditioning. She did indeed seem to have suffered heat exhaustion, and he knew that something extremely compelling must have brought her out there in her good clothing, as she obviously hadn't been forced. Demerit was hardly one to force a woman, anyway; as far as he could tell, the man was either h.o.m.os.e.xual or as.e.xual, having little interest in other people of either s.e.x. It didn't matter, as long as he stayed out of trouble, and apparently his job as caretaker of the Middle Kingdom suited him just fine. But the presence of this woman indicated that something significant was afoot, and it was just Frank's blind luck that he had arrived in time to catch her.

The woman's color improved as she got cool. She became more alert and relaxed, sizing him up. He was sizing her up too, as he did routinely with anyone he encountered; it was part of his business. She was evidently no dummy. She was about his own age, heavyset but not really fat, like him. Her hair and eyes were brown, like his, except that they were rich instead of pale. It was as if she had emerged from the mold more recently, and had not been so far faded by the sun and heat. She was about five-six in height, and despite her age and heft, healthy. Probably only the unaccustomed heat had brought her down; she had simply misjudged how hot it was this far south in summer, with the humidity of the lake region making it worse.

"I do work for Middleberry," she said. "And there is something important afoot. I was going to interview you anyway, in due course."

"Oh, you know who I am?" He was accustomed to dealing with folk who saw him as an anonymous figure in a uniform.

"I make it my business to know with what I am dealing."

With what, rather than with whom. He suppressed a flicker of irritation. "Okay, I'll play. Tell me something about me that doesn't show."

"You're a whistle-blower," she said. "You suffered the usual fate of the kind. They couldn't actually fire you, so they relegated you to the hinterlands, and if you give them any pretext at all, they'll can you. Your wife has little sympathy with your att.i.tude."

Frank was amazed. "You do know! But how?"

"There are files on everything, if you know how to get at them. I checked the records on the local authorities, and you were the most recent transferee. I checked your prior record, and it was outstanding-until you turned in your department for graft. You learned about what pa.s.ses for justice the hard way."

"Just the way you learned about men," he said, taking a flyer on her att.i.tude.

"Bad marriage," she agreed. "Not exactly the same as your experience, but perhaps the effect was similar. Mr. Tishner, I do have information I think will interest you, but I do require confidentiality. Can you guarantee it?"

"As you say, Miz-what's your name?"

"May Flowers."

"As you say, May-and you can call me Frank. I'm not being friendly, I'm being off the record, okay? Let's leave the full names out."

"Frank," she agreed with a chill smile.

"As you say," he said once more, "I've been through the grinder, and I guess you have too. If I rock the boat one teeny bit, I'll be out, and this is the only job I know, let alone like, and I've got a family to support. So I'm on a close leash. When I came up with this thing about bags of bones-and I think that's what we're talking about-I got the word: I can investigate it all I want, mostly on my own time or as part of legitimate activity, but I can't go public with it on my own. I have to report it, and someone else will decide what to do with it. Probably it'll just be buried, because they're trying to encourage tourism, and bones don't necessarily do that unless they're ancient. In fact, I think they'd be just as happy if I never reported at all. But if there is a threat to the folk here, I'd better be on it, because we both know who'll get the axe if I hide something that then embarra.s.ses the tourist bureau. So I can guarantee confidentiality right up until something blows, and then I can't guarantee anything. Not for you, me, or my marriage."

"I think we understand each other sufficiently," she said. "Tell me what you know of the bones, and I will tell you what I know-off the record. We may indeed profit by pooling our resources."

Frank told her about Demerit's rabbit and the Brown woman's racc.o.o.n and the prior pattern of cases. "Now a fool hunter's disappeared," he concluded. "I traced it back to this region, and I figure it could've happened here, and Middleberry told Demerit to cover it up so's n.o.body would come poking around the Middle Kingdom. If the same thing that got the animals got that hunter, this is a live case."

"Mid," she said. "We call Middleberry Mid, off the record. You're right; it did get the hunter, and Mid did make the caretaker hide the body and move the truck. Neither Mid nor Demerit has any complicity in the death, merely in the concealment of it and its locale. Mid sent me to investigate, and that is what I am doing. We were just returning from a viewing of the body."

Confirmation! Frank tried to mask his excitement, but knew it showed anyway. "You actually saw the remains?"

"I did. Definitely a hunter's clothing, but only bones remaining, with a thin webbing covering them. No flesh at all. A faint, peculiar odor. And-" She hesitated.

Something clicked. "An erotic reaction?"

"That's it. I conjecture that the monster uses pheromones to lure its prey, and to pacify it. Such chemical substances can be extremely powerful as agents to modify behavior, and if the monster somehow manages to emulate or manufacture pheromones that cause its prey to relax, or sleep, or to become s.e.xually agitated-"

"You're saying it doesn't have to have big teeth!" Frank exclaimed. "I wondered how it could go from rabbit to man! Either the one would be too little for it, or the other too much. But if it could make any size prey just lie down for it-"

"Precisely. There was no sign of violence done to the body, paradoxical as that may seem in the circ.u.mstance. The bones were not separated or broken; the skeleton appeared to be intact, as was the clothing. The, uh, trousers were open, as if-"

"As if he was urinating-or trying for s.e.x!" Frank finished. "Maybe he thought it was a super-s.e.xy woman!"

"Apparently the pheromones are generic and non-s.e.x specific. They seem to affect a number of species who should have different, um, tastes, and to have similar impact on male and female. I'm no biologist, but that strikes me as unusual. Either some extremely sophisticated chemical technology is involved, or the monster has an organic capacity of emulation beyond anything we have encountered before."

"Maybe so," he said. "But even so, some of this is hard to swallow.

"An animal might be tricked or caught, but a man's no dummy. There may be stories of the old sirens, who lured sailors to their destruction, but in real life even the s.e.xiest woman won't tempt a man to his immediate death. Not if he sees it coming. A hunter out poaching's got to know that if he sees a nymph out here in the brush, something's got to be fishy. He's not just going to grab her unless he's pretty sure she's human. So does this monster talk? Does it kiss? If it can do that, what's it doing out here instead of in the big city, where prey is a lot more common?"

"Could it be alien in origin?" she asked. "A literal flying saucer, I with equipment to project something tempting, visually, audibly, and olfactory? All that would be required would be the semblance of something desirable, enough to cause the man to investigate. Then he I could be caught in a net or whatever, and, um, drained."

Frank shook his head. "Won't wash. If aliens came in a saucer, they wouldn't just hover it in place while they checked out a man, then leave him where they found him. Either they'd take the whole thing, and dissolve the bones too, or they'd talk with him and let him go. They wouldn't stay in sight any longer than they'd have to, and they wouldn't leave such grisly evidence of what they'd done. I don't see any intelligence or technology operating here, but I can see some sort of animal eating its fill and leaving what it couldn't eat."

"I agree," May said. "But what sort of animal could it be? I saw no sign of eating, no blood. How could it get all the flesh out without breaking the skin?"

"Maybe the lab report on that racc.o.o.n will tell," he said. "But I think we've got more to worry about than exactly how it's done. Something's out there, and it used to feed on animals, but now it's tasted human flesh, and that could mean real trouble. Middle-Mid may not want a commotion on his ranch, but this thing could blow up beyond anyone's power to control."

"If no more hunters come on the property," she said evenly, "there will be no more deaths here. Mid won't mind if a scandal blows up somewhere else. There is no tangible evidence to tie that hunter in to this property. Would justice be denied if that body turned up somewhere else?"

Frank considered. "Like where?"

"Like where do you want it?"

"In the brush near where his truck was found?"

"Perhaps in two days?"

He nodded. "Could be."

She smiled grimly, but with less chill than before. "However, that is merely one episode. There have been others, and may be more. I believe we should remain in touch."

"Where can I reach you?"

She dug in her purse and produced a business card. She wrote the local number on the back. "I'll be out and around, but a message left there will catch me in due course. Where can I reach you?"

He pondered. "Sheriffs office isn't safe. Better be at home. My wife generally knows where to reach me."

"Your wife may not appreciate calls for you from a woman."