Written In Red Part 29

After a long, hot shower and a late breakfast, Meg filled Earthday with ch.o.r.es, Sam, and her first social outing. While her clothes washed, she and Sam walked around the complex. While the clothes dried, she and Sam walked around the complex. By the time she got home and put her clothes away, Sam was sprawled on her bedroom floor, unwilling to move. She had to lug him back to his cage in Simon's living room.

Then it was time to meet the females who were gathering in the Green's social room to watch a chick movie. Jenni Crowgard and her sisters were there, along with Julia Hawkgard, Allison Owlgard, and Tess.

They rearranged the chairs and the sectional couch to their liking-and for ease at reaching the popcorn, nuts, and chocolate chip cookies Tess had brought. Then Jenni started the movie.

There were mothers crying about daughters, and daughters yelling at mothers. There were fathers arguing with sons. There were friends offering unwanted advice to everyone. But in the end, they were all smiling and hugging.

Meg couldn't decide if this was supposed to be a story about a real family or if it was make-believe and wouldn't actually happen in a human community. The Others didn't understand the story either, but they all agreed on one thing: there wasn't a single chick in the whole movie.

By the time she got back, Sam was awake and ready to play. So they ate and played and watched another movie that definitely had chicks and other animals in it.

"If you let me get some sleep tonight, you can come with me in the morning," Meg said when she latched the cage. "But if you start howling and keep everyone up, you'll have to stay home by yourself."

Sam whined, making Meg feel like a meanie. But he settled down, and she went back to her apartment and barely had time to go through her nightly routine before she fell into bed and was sound asleep.

The next morning, there wasn't a sound from Simon's apartment. Not a yip or a howl. Having slept through her alarm, Meg wasn't sure she would have heard Sam before she stumbled out of bed, no matter how much noise he'd made. However, by the time she got out of the shower, the silence had taken on an ominous feel.

What if she hadn't latched the cage correctly last night? What if Sam had gotten out and, feeling upset with her for leaving him, had done one of the things that had worried Simon enough to buy the cage in the first place?

Rubbing her wet hair, Meg stuffed the towel on the rack, put on her robe and slippers, and hurried over to Simon's apartment. She shivered as she worked the lock in the back hallway-a reminder that even indoors, this wasn't a good time of year for wet hair and minimal clothing.

She would fix both of those things as soon as she checked on Sam.

What if he wasn't making any noise because he was injured and couldn't howl for help? What if he was sick? What if . . .

She rushed down the stairs and into the living room.

. . . he was licking the last bits of kibble out of his bowl and waiting for her quietly so she would take him with her?

Sam wagged his tail and let out a soft arrooooo of greeting.

"Good morning, Sam," Meg said. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll come and get you in a few minutes. Okay?"

Taking the sound he made as agreement, she dashed back to her apartment to dry her hair and get dressed. She hurried through the rest of her morning routine, almost choking on her hasty breakfast of peanut b.u.t.ter and bread.

By the time she got her place locked up and returned to Simon's apartment, Sam was dancing in place. As soon as she unlocked the cage, he was out and dancing at the front door. She got him into his harness and packed up his bowls and towel. When she stepped outside, Vlad was waiting for her.

He took the two carry sacks and looked thoughtful. "What are you bringing every day?"

"Sam's food bowls," Meg replied, double checking that she had properly locked Simon's door, because she remembered images and clips of thieves breaking into houses. Then there was the recent vision of those men dressed in black and Sam being afraid. She didn't think anyone would sneak into the Courtyard and try to steal from the Others. On the other hand, people did foolish things all the time.

"Meg, if Sam is going to the office with you most days, get another set of bowls so you don't have to cart these back and forth," Vlad said.

"I'm going to look through the Pet Palace catalog this morning to see how much they cost," she said as the three of them set off for the garages, stopping every few steps for Sam to pee. She didn't want to be stingy, but the shopping trip on Firesday had shown her how quickly money was used up, and she didn't want to run out before the next pay envelope. And that thought reminded her to stop at the Market Square bank and find out how much store credit she could antic.i.p.ate having each month. She was beginning to understand why so many of the Controller's clients had wanted prophecies about money.

"Buy what you want for Sam and charge it to the Business a.s.sociation," Vlad said. "I'll authorize the purchases."

"Thank you."

They packed the carry sacks and Sam into the BOW. Then, despite her having her key that morning, Vlad drove the three of them to the Liaison's Office.

When she opened the front door, Harry from Everywhere Delivery was just pulling in.

Not late this morning, she thought as she waved at Harry-and caught a glimpse of someone watching from the second floor of the consulate. But just barely on time.

Since Harry always chatted with her for a few minutes, Meg took her time setting up her clipboard and filling out the information on the packages he brought. Unlike Asia Crane, he wasn't blatantly curious about the Courtyard. Harry chatted about his own life, a version of the human world that was as alien to her as the terra indigenes' way of life. But Meg absorbed the words, and whenever she had a few minutes of quiet time, she tried to match the things Harry talked about to the images and clips that had been part of her training.

"Pull up so we're not in the way of deliveries," Monty said as Kowalski drove into the Courtyard. "This won't take more than a couple of minutes."

There had been no further news from the West Coast, no confirmation of how many people in Jerzy had been killed last week, no information about why a pack of young men had attacked the Others and started the fight that escalated into a slaughter. And despite having a patrol car waiting at the train station whenever an eastbound train pulled in, there had been no sign of Simon Wolfgard.

Preferring to avoid more dealings with Vladimir Sanguinati, Monty had decided to approach the Liaison. He didn't think Meg Corbyn could-or would-tell him anything, but he wanted to remind her that he was there to help.

As he opened the office door, one of the Crows fluttered over the stone wall, while another went winging off, no doubt to tell someone that he was there.

There was that flash of fear in Meg Corbyn's gray eyes when she saw him, quickly followed by an effort to hide that fear. He wondered if she would ever look at him and not be afraid that he was going to take her back to whatever she had run away from. But why would she still be afraid? Didn't she know that the Others wouldn't tolerate her being apprehended?

"Good morning, Lieutenant Montgomery. Is there something I can do for you?"

Reaching the counter, Monty smiled and shook his head. "No, ma'am. I just dropped by to see if there was anything we can do for you."

"Oh." She looked at the catalog on the counter, as if searching for the correct response among the merchandise.

Since she wasn't looking at him, he focused on the room beyond the Private door, which she had left open. A back wall with slots and shelves. A box of sugar lumps sitting on a big table in the middle of the room. And a gray puppy standing in the doorway, its lips peeled back to reveal a mouth full of healthy teeth.

Not a dog puppy, Monty thought when the animal snarled at him. A Wolf pup.

Meg jerked at the sound. After staring at the Wolf, she looked at Monty and said, "This is Sam. He's helping me for a few days." Then she looked at the youngster. "Sam, this is Lieutenant Montgomery. He's a police officer." Back to him. "He's young. I'm not sure he knows what a police officer is."

When did the Others start shifting into human form? Was that pup also a boy? Whose boy?

He didn't need three guesses to figure that out, but it made him wonder what other duties Simon Wolfgard might require from his Liaison.

"Maybe the bookstore has one of those this is' books," Monty said. "I don't recall the actual name, but the gist of the books is to help children identify things. Like, This is a cat. This is a car. This is a mouse. This is a moose.'"

There was a queer look in her eyes, and her fair skin paled. "I remember those kinds of books," she whispered. "I didn't know other children were taught that way."

He'd been thinking of all the evenings he sat with Lizzy, reading those books to her, and how excited she had been when they went to the children's zoo and she could identify the goat, chicken, and bunny. But looking at Meg, he doubted she had the same kind of warm memories about those books.

"Thank you. That's a good suggestion," she said. "If HGR doesn't carry children's books, maybe the Courtyard library does."

Time to leave. He glanced at the catalog, which was open to a selection of dog beds, and noticed she had circled one. He took a moment to gauge the pup, then tipped his head to look at her choice.

"I'd go with the medium-sized bed, not the small," he said.

"But he is small," Meg protested. She paused. "At least, I think he's small. I haven't seen a full-grown Wolf yet."

He smiled, but he wondered why she hadn't seen a Wolf yet. "Take my word for it. Sam is already bigger than what people consider a small dog."

"Oh. Well, that's good to know."

"You have a good day, Ms. Corbyn."

"You too."

When he stepped out of the office, he caught sight of Kowalski's expression. Looking to the right, he saw the Grizzly who was standing on the other side of the wall, watching him. In those first moments, his lungs refused to breathe and his bowels turned to water.

"Good day, Mr. Beargard," he said quietly. Then he walked over to the patrol car and got in.

"We okay to leave?" Kowalski asked, still keeping an eye on the Grizzly.

"Yes. Let's go," Monty replied.

Henry Beargard watched them until they pulled into traffic.

"A guy from the consulate came out as soon as you went into the Liaison's Office," Kowalski said. "Mainly wanted to know what we were doing there. Told him it was a courtesy call."

"Which it was."

"The guy was in my line of sight, so when I first saw the Grizzly, I thought it was one of those carvings, until the bear turned his head and watched you talking to the Liaison." Kowalski braked carefully as they came up to a red traffic light. "Never saw one of the Bears before. Can't say I'm anxious to see another one." A pause when the light changed and they started moving again. "Do you think he could have gotten over that wall?"

Could have gotten over it or gone through it. Not finding any comfort in that certainty, Monty didn't answer the question.

Meg called the Pet Palace and placed her order with the shop's manager since the salesperson who answered the phone didn't want the responsibility of charging anything to the Courtyard. Receiving a promise that the bowls and bed would be delivered the following morning, she considered her next call.

Something was wrong with Sam-or had been wrong. She'd understood that from the cage in Simon's living room and the kibble, which she doubted was a typical food for any of the Wolves.

Something had changed in the past few days. Sam seemed more responsive, more like a curious puppy now. If he was behaving more like a typical Wolf pup, maybe that explained his increasing lack of interest in the kibble.

Although it didn't explain his interest in the cookies she had bought for him.

Since she couldn't ask Simon for advice-and she sure didn't want to ask Blair-she called the Market Square butcher shop to see if she could get an answer.

And as she listened to the phone ring, a thought niggled at her. She'd been in the Courtyard almost two weeks now and heard them every night, so why hadn't she seen any of the Wolves in Wolf form? Were they under orders to avoid her when in that form? Were they really that scary?

"We got meat and fish today," a male voice said. "Whaddaya looking for?"

"This is Meg, the Liaison. Do you have any special meat?"

Silence, followed by sputtering. "Special meat? You want some of the special meat?"

Obviously there was a special meat. Just as obviously, not everyone was allowed to have it.

"It's for Sam," Meg said. "He's not enthusiastic about the kibble, so I wondered if there was a special meat for puppies. Well, maybe something like rabbit or deer isn't really special, since Wolves eat it all the time. Don't they?" When he didn't say anything, she plowed on. "Little Wolves Sam's age do eat meat, don't they?"

A gusty sigh. Then that voice, sounding relieved, said, "Sure they eat meat. Sure they do. Got some nice bits of beef in today. That would be more of a treat than deer or rabbit-unless you want a whole haunch of rabbit. Got a haunch left from the one I caught this morning."

Suddenly feeling queasy, Meg said, "A small piece of beef would be fine. I don't want to give him too much if he hasn't had it for a while."

"I'll bring it over." He hung up.

Meg stared at the phone. "Why was he so upset about me asking for special meat?"

Not everyone was allowed to have it. Or was it just the humans who weren't supposed to want it because . . .

Before she lost her nerve, she called A Little Bite and silently thanked all the G.o.ds when Merri Lee answered.

"Are humans considered special meat?" Meg asked.

"This isn't a good thing to talk about over the phone," Merri Lee finally said.

For a moment, Meg couldn't think, could barely breathe as a drawing of a cow with arrows pointing to the various cuts of meat popped into her head. Then she imagined a drawing of a human with the same kinds of arrows. Could there be a sign like that in the butcher shop?

"Merri? Does the butcher shop in the Courtyard sell people parts?"

Silence.