A panel became translucent after a moment. “Yes?” a soft-voiced woman inquired. He could not quite make out her features; the glass was, of course, designed to pass a clear image only one way.
“Uh, Gawain sent me.” Idiocy!
The door slid aside, and she stood framed within. She had hair the hue of honey and eyes the same. Her figure was adorably proportioned, and her face was cute. She was the loveliest creature he had met.
Orlene studied Norton. Her &yes seemed to shine. “Oh, I was afraid this would happen someday,” she said.
“This wasn’t exactly my idea,” Norton said. “I’ll go.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No fault in you! I just was not prepared.”
“Since I’m unsuitable, I won’t bother you further.” He felt quite awkward, sorry he had come here, yet also deeply regretful. He had been braced to meet a different sort of woman; for one like this, he would do almost anything.
“No, wait,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to-please, sit down, have some tea.”
“That’s not necessary, thank you. I’m intruding. This whole business- “He turned away-and paused. Gawain was right there behind him, spreading his arms to block his retreat. He did not want to walk through the ghost.
Orlene came up and took his arm. Her touch was light and gentle and utterly right; he had a momentary mental picture of a porcelain statuette, a work of art, inconceivably delicate, precious, and cool. “Please,” she repeated. “He set it up,” Norton said, indicating Gawain. “You don’t have to say that,” Orlene said, sounding just a bit nettled. “You don’t have to justify yourself.”
“Yes, I do! He’s your husband! I can’t simply-even if I were satisfactory, I mean, it would still be wrong.”
“My husband is dead,” she said. “I know. That’s why- “Norton shrugged, confused about his own emotions, wishing he were back in the forest. “How can you face him like this and-?”
“Me?” she flared. She was one of those few women who really did seem as pretty angry as happy. “How can you men exchange stories, and use a great warrior’s death to try to-to-!”
“But he told me!” Norton said. “Gawain brought me here! Ask him! He’ll tell you!”
She looked into Norton’s face, then turned away, hurt. He felt like a monster who had just pulled the wings off a dozen beautiful butterflies.
“She can’t see me,” Gawain said. “She can’t hear me. I told you that. She doesn’t really believe in me.”
Norton was shocked. “You mean she thinks this is just a scheme to-to hit on-?”
“I told you you’d have to handle the introduction yourself,” the ghost reminded him. “She’s ready to accept you; don’t mess it up.”
Norton turned to Orlene again. “You really can’t see or hear-Gawain?”
“Of course I can’t,” she said, her face still hurt. “Only his picture.” She gestured to a framed painting on the wall inside.
Norton turned around to get a better view. It was Gawain, garbed in his armor, with a dragon painted on his shield and X’d out. The bold killer of dragons.
Norton shook his head. “This is all wrong. I think I have insulted you, Orlene. I misunderstood-the situation. I apologize and I’ll leave.”
“Oh, you mustn’t leave!” she protested. “I don’t care what brought you here, really. You glow so brightly! I never expected to see- “
“I glow?”
“Her magic power,” Gawain said from outside. “The right man glows. You’re it, all right.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Orlene said. “It doesn’t mean I like a man, or want to. It just means that, objectively, he is- “She spread her hands helplessly.
“I think I understand,” Norton said. He had thought he would be rejected, once he saw how lovely she was; now he was unable to turn down what was offered, though he remained disturbed by the situation. “Perhaps I will accept your tea after all.” He stepped back into the apartment.
Orlene closed the door behind him, shutting out the ghost. That was a small relief. Norton sat in a comfortable chair while she bustled in her kitchenette, dialing the tea.
The problem was that she was too pretty, too obviously nice. Norton felt subjectively as if his touch would despoil her. This was no one-night-stand woman, and it would be a crime to treat her that way. Especially since she herself was not aware of the ghost’s active participation. She would think that he, Norton, was simply a man taking advantage of a widow. Well, not exactly a widow. But it bothered him.
Except for one thing-she saw him glow. She had no need to accept him; she could tell him to go and he would go. Why should she claim he was right for the purpose? Was her magic real, or was it a pretext to pick and choose? Was she in fact any better than she took him to be? She seemed like the ideal woman, but appearances could be deceptive. Especially when a ghost was involved.
Oriene brought the tea in an old-fashioned pot and poured cups for them both. This wasn’t tea time, but time was not of the essence here. What was required was something to occupy their hands and eyes and nominal attention-a pretext to be somewhat at ease together. That was, Norton suspected, the true basis of tea; it was a social amenity.
But it wasn’t enough. There was only so long a person could nurse along a cup of beverage, and it was necessary to make small talk meanwhile. How long could they postpone getting down to the subject?
Norton’s desperately wandering eyes spotted a large, pretty, parlor-style book, the kind with phenomenal illustrations and very little text, as befitted the fashionable, wealthy nonreaders of the day. He reached for it.
“Oh, that’s the picture-puzzle guide,” Orlene said quickly. “Magic technology art. I haven’t gotten into the puzzle, though I’ve been meaning to. I understand it’s very difficult.”
“I like puzzles.” Norton opened the book. The first picture was of a section of the city park, with its tall trees seeming almost alive. Almost? Now he saw their leaves fluttering in the wind. It was a moving picture and it was three-dimensional; his eyes shifted focus as he peered into its background. He had heard of books like this, with holographic illustrations, but never handled one before.
Experimentally he poked his forefinger at the picture, for his eyes had lost track of the surface of the page. His finger penetrated beyond that surface, finding no resistance. Startled, he drew back.
“It’s a window to the park,” she explained. “You could climb through it, if you could fit.”
Impressive magic! Intrigued, Norton turned the page. The next was of the nether transport center, with the escalator belts leading down to the matter transmitters. People were stepping off the belts, inserting their talismans in the MT slots, and moving through to their destinations. A big clock on the wall showed the present time and date; this was live! He wondered whether, if he should somehow squeeze into that picture, he would then be able to take a matter-mit window to another city or planet. No-he lacked the necessary token and lacked credit to buy one. Too bad; he really loved to explore, and if he had ever been able to afford interplanetary travel-
He turned another page. This picture-window showed another planet directly: the blazing sunside surface of Mercury, so bright that the heat seemed to radiate out from the sheet. He touched his finger to the nearest baked rock-and drew it back quickly. That was hot!
“You say this one is merely a puzzle guide?” he asked, perplexed.
Orlene rose gracefully and went to a cupboard. Her dress rustled, and for the first time he became aware of what she was wearing: a kind of golden-tan wraparound affair, obviously intended for convenience rather than for presentation, but it fitted her marvelously. He suspected she would look wonderful in anything, however.
She brought down a box. “To the jigsaw puzzle,” she explained. “Of course, it’s been decades since they actually cut them out with saws, but the name sticks.” She cleared away the pot and cups and set the box down.
Norton opened it. It was filled with bright, curly, flat fragments, indeed very much like the pieces of a jig-sawed puzzle. But these glittered with animation. Moving images here?
He picked one up and squinted at it. Sure enough, it showed several leaves of a tree, and they did indeed flutter in whatever wind there was. It was a section of the first illustration in the book.
“But there are a number of scenes in the book,” he said.
Orlene touched a button on the side of the box. Abruptly the image on the piece Norton held changed. Now it appeared to be part of the wall of the subterranean transport station. He looked at the other pieces in the box and saw one that displayed part of the face of the station clock. Its minute hand showed exactly the minute that Norton’s own watch did. It was now only a fragment, but it kept accurate time.
“All the scenes are available,” Orlene said. “You just set it for the one you want to do-or change it in the middle. There’s another button to change the shapes of the pieces so they don’t get too familiar. I understand it’s a lot of fun, especially since the completed puzzle is large enough for a person to step through and enter the scene.”
“Science and magic are merging faster than I knew!” Norton exclaimed, impressed.
“Well, they always were pretty much the same thing,” she pointed out. “Once the Unified Field Theorem merged the five basic forces, including magic- “
“I think I’ve been spending too much time in the wilderness!”
“The wilderness is nice too,” she said. “We mustn’t sacrifice the old values for the new.”
He glanced at her with fresh appreciation. “You like the wilderness?” He remembered Gawain’s remark about her affinity for animals.
“Oh, yes! The estate has a section of the park; I go there often. Somehow it seems less lonely than the city.”
What a delight she was! But still he wasn’t sure. He was not able to view people with a magic glow. “Let’s do this puzzle,” he suggested. “The park picture.”
Orlene smiled with glad acquiescence. “Let’s!”
And that finessed the main issue nicely. She did want him to stay, for otherwise she would not have agreed to get into a project like this that could take days. And-he did want to stay. Not necessarily to honor the ghost’s request, but to explore the possibility. The notion of helping Gawain in this fashion no longer seemed so unreasonable.
They labored on the puzzle, first sorting the colors of the park scene, then aligning the straight-edge pieces, getting the border done. Norton was an old hand at this sort of thing, except that his experience had been with the old-fashioned kind of jigsaw. This magic-picture variety was new, but the fundamental principles of strategy and matching remained. A picture was like a story, with rules of structure that were vulnerable to exploitation in a case like this.
Orlene turned out to have a good eye for color and shape and was able to locate pieces he needed. She was assisted by her magic, she said; the particular piece she looked for tended to glow. He saw no such effect, but her accuracy in drawing pieces from the great mixed pile lent credence to the claim. The two of them were working well together.
Norton glanced at the clock and discovered that three hours had flown by. They had completed the border and much of the forest path and were working on two trees, but there was a long way to go. Edges and paths filled in deceptively rapidly; the solid masses of single-color regions would be much slower. “Maybe we’d better let it rest for the night,” he said.
“Yes. Let me get you some pajamas.” They both understood that he would be staying here indefinitely. The agreement had formed, unvoiced, as the outline of the puzzle took form. Like the puzzle, the details remained inchoate.
Norton did not ordinarily use pajamas, but he didn’t argue. He was a guest of this estate, and it was no place to flop in his clothes. Except- “Pajamas? Do you have male clothing here?”
“They were Gawain’s,” she said delicately. “You’re close enough to his size, and I’m sure he would have wanted them to be used.”
Surely so. Norton squelched his misgivings and accepted the pajamas. Orlene showed him to a well appointed room, separate from hers; their relationship had not progressed to the critical stage. As he had known from the moment he first saw her, she was no one-nightstand girl. And he, abruptly, was no love-‘em-and-leave-’em guy. He was committed for the full route, whatever it might be.
He discovered that he was quite tired; it had indeed been a long day. He undressed, stepped into the sonic cleaner, stepped out dry and tingly clean, then got into Gawain’s pajamas, reluctantly accepting their symbolism. They hung on him somewhat baggily.
He got into bed and realized that this was not the ordinary flophouse bunk he was used to. It was an oil sponge couch. His weight caused the sponge oil to give way and shift, but not instantly; it was more like sinking into thick mud. The truth was, mud was excellent stuff, as children instinctively knew, despite the bad press provided by their mothers. It offered enough support to prevent drowning, while being malleable enough for freedom of action. It was also fascinating stuff in itself, suitable for splashing or mudballs and body-paintings. Of course this bed was not mud and would not splash or separate, but the feel was similar. Norton let himself descend into its enfoldment with sheer bliss.
“How did it work out?” a voice asked.
Norton opened his eyes, annoyed. Gawain the Ghost was there, standing expectantly beside the bed. “I had almost forgotten you,” he said.
“I certainly hadn’t forgotten you!” the ghost replied. “Three hours-did you beget my offspring?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Norton demanded. “I thought you couldn’t enter this apartment.”
“You misunderstood. I can’t enter the room in which my wife stays, and she can’t directly perceive me regardless of where we are. But I can enter my own residence when she’s absent. I do it all the time.”
“She’s absent? I thought she was in her bedroom.”
“She is. She’s absent from this room,” Gawain clarified. “If she entered it, I’d have to vanish. I’d just step through the wall until she was gone.”
Norton thought of something else. “I understood it was death to see a ghost. That’s why people don’t like it! Does this mean I am going to die?”
Gawain laughed. “Yes, in a manner of thinking. You will die-in due course. Maybe fifty years hence. Every living person will. But seeing me won’t hasten your demise one whit, unless you should happen to die of fright.” He put his forefingers in the corners of his mouth and pulled his lips open in a grotesque face. Because he was insubstantial, he was able to stretch his mouth entirely beyond the borders of his face. “I’m not that kind of ghost. You’re thinking of Molly Malone of Kilvarough. She’s a nice and lovely ghost indeed; if I weren’t already married- “He left it unfinished.
“Well, to answer your question,” Norton said shortly, “I did not have any intimate relation with Orlene. She’s not that kind of woman, any more than you’re that kind of ghost. And I can’t guarantee that I will have that kind of relation, or when.”
“Now look, sport,” Gawain said indignantly. “You’re here accepting the hospitality of my estate. You owe it to me to deliver!”
“To cuckold you?” Norton demanded, again expressing his inner irresolution. “To seduce your pristine, faithful wife?”
“It’s not like that, and you know it. You’re here to perform a service.”
“I thought I was here to do you a favor.”
“Same thing. Once you do it, you can leave. Except I still have to teach you how to slay dragons.”
“Well, Orlene is no dragon! The fact is, she is really a nice person, not a gold digger at all. If she decides not to-to want the favor, I’m not going to force it on her.”
“What do you think she’s here for?” Gawain demanded. “She’s a guest of my estate too!”
“She’s your wife!” Norton shouted. “She has a perfect right to be here!”
“Not if she doesn’t produce! Listen, Norton, I’m locked in this state until I have a proper heir. She owes it to me to generate him promptly.”
“Well, then, why didn’t you marry some slut who spreads her legs for any man who looks at her? Why inflict this on a nice girl?”
“I told you,” the ghost responded hotly. “There are standards to maintain. Our family is of noble lineage.”
“Well, I have standards to maintain, too-and so does she.”
“Anyway, I didn’t select her; my family did. They- “
The ghost vanished in mid-sentence. Norton looked about, startled-and saw Orlene at the doorway.
“Are you all right, Norton?” she asked worriedly. “I heard you shouting- “
And she couldn’t hear the ghost! He’d have to watch that. What had she heard? He felt a slow flush nudging up his neck and cheeks as he considered that. “I-I don’t suppose you would believe I was talking to the ghost?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t- “
“Call it a bad dream, then. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
She looked doubtful. “You’re such a good man. Do you really suffer from- “
Norton laughed, somewhat too heartily. “How can you know I’m a good man? I’m an ordinary man, perhaps less than ordinary, since I have never had much success in life. Not like you.”
“Oh, no! I am nothing!” she protested. “You glow!” Norton studied her. She was in a pinkish-white peignoir, and her honey-golden hair hung loose about her shoulders. There was something enormously appealing about her, and it was not mere beauty or sensuality. But he resisted that appeal, choosing instead to challenge her. “You refuse to believe I can see a ghost, but you expect me to believe you see a glow? When the ghost and the glow say the same thing?”
She smiled wanly. “I suppose it is inconsistent. But so many men have come with stories about the ghost of my husband, I know it’s a crude male game. I would like to believe you are different.”
Somehow Norton felt rather small. “I did see the ghost-but I don’t necessarily agree with what he said.”
“I do see the glow,” she said. “But I don’t- “She smiled. “Good night, Norton.”
“Good night, Orlene.”
She retreated and closed the door.
Gawain reappeared. “I see the problem,” he said. “Neither of you is a dragon slayer; you don’t like to go at it directly. But if she says you glow, she’ll accept you. It’s just a matter of time. All you need to do is stay here and- “
“And be supported by a woman,” Norton finished. “I find that hard to accept.”
“It’s my estate, damn it!” Gawain swore. “She doesn’t have a thing of her own. It’s all mine. She won’t inherit; only the son she bears will. She knows that.”
“Suppose it’s a daughter?”
The ghost looked blank. “A what?”
Norton was beginning to appreciate the fact that Gawain’s purpose did not align perfectly with Orlene’s purpose. He wanted to preserve the estate; she wanted a proper personal situation. He wanted a son to inherit and carry on the line; the personality of that son was not a concern. She surely wanted a fine child who would be a joy to her and to Gawain’s family and to the world and a credit to the estate. He was concerned about money and power, she about quality and love. She would prefer to have an attractive, intelligent, and sweet girl-like herself-while he would be outraged by anything less than a strapping, bold boy-like himself. Norton’s sympathy was sliding toward the woman’s view.
But he was here at the ghost’s behest, and there was merit in Gawain’s position. “I’ll try to accomplish your purpose. But I won’t rush it. It’s not that I want to sponge off your estate, it’s that I think you have a better wife than you appreciate, and I want it to be right.”
“I want it to be right, too,” Gawain said, sounding aggrieved. “I want my son to have the best of everything.”
Norton didn’t comment. As he came to understand the forces operating here, he did not feel more at ease. But there seemed to be no better way through this than to remain here, get to know Orlene, and do what the ghost wanted when the occasion was propitious. Then move on quickly, lest he become too much attached. How much easier this would have been if the girl had been a gold digger or a slut!
He closed his eyes, and Gawain did not speak again.
Soon Norton was asleep, drowned in the comfort of the mudbath bed.
He dreamed he was back at the puzzle-window, trying to place a piece. As he stared at it, assessing its contours, those contours changed, coming to resemble the outline of a nude woman-and the woman had hair like honey, and breasts the same. He tried to avert his eyes from that ineffable sweetness, embarrassed. It was not that he had any aversion to such a body; it was that he felt he was violating Orlene’s modesty.
But the shape expanded to life size, showing more detail, becoming the living, breathing woman, naked and appallingly desirable. He tried to set her down-for his hand was still on the piece, grasping it where he had no right to grasp-but found himself drawn in toward her. In a moment he would fall through the piece, into the world of the puzzle-and where would he be then? Desperately he pushed her away-and she fell to the floor and broke into a thousand puzzle fragments, and he knew these could never be reassembled, no matter how hard he tried to fit every bit together.
He woke-and Orlene was there, her arm about his shoulders as she sat on the bed. Her warm breast pressed against his upper arm, soft through the material of her apparel and his. “Wake, wake, Norton, it’s all right!” she soothed.
If she had a baby and it screamed in the night, even so would she comfort it-and what baby could be better off?
“I’m awake,” he said. “You don’t need to-you shouldn’t be here.”
“I couldn’t let you suffer,” she said. “Was it the ghost again?”
“No, not this time. Just a bad dream. I’m afraid I’m not very good company.”
“You were glowing so brightly!”
He coughed. “That’s a false glow! I dreamed of you- that I destroyed you, without meaning to.”
“No, the glow isn’t wrong,” she insisted. “I know you are right for me. In fact, if I weren’t already married- “She broke off, out of sorts. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that!”
“I think I shouldn’t stay here any longer,” Norton said. “You are so nice-I would never want to be the instrument of-of any problem for you.”
“You won’t be,” she said confidently. “I know.”
She believed in her glow. But his dream had been compelling. In past times supposedly sensible men had disparaged dreams as mere visions of internal events, but recent research had verified their magical properties. He could not be sure this dream was prophetic, but he didn’t want to take the chance. “All the same, I think it would be better if I left.”
“Oh, please, Norton, don’t do that!” she exclaimed. “It’s so difficult to be alone all the time! You’re the first who’s right. I’ll do anything you want- “
“Orlene, I’m not trying to coerce you! I’m trying to protect you. From me, maybe. And I think I can do that best by leaving you.”
“It’s morning,” she said abruptly. “I’ll fix us breakfast.”
“Thank you. Then I’ll go.”
She disengaged, stood, and hurried out. Norton got up, used the various facilities of the bathroom-and discovered that his clothes were gone. Orlene had evidently taken them for cleaning. The perfect housewife! “What do I do now?” he asked himself rhetorically.
“You use my clothing,” Gawain replied. “It will fit you well enough. I had more muscle, but our frames are similar.”
Norton realized he had no choice. Assisted by the ghost, he donned trousers, shirt, slippers, and an elegant robe. All of the clothing was of fine material and well made, and little golden dragons were embroidered on each item. “You are rich, aren’t you!” he muttered.
“Definitely,” Gawain agreed. “I’m not in the Five Hundred, but I was a candidate. If I had lived long enough- “The ghost broke off, looking momentarily pensive. “My son will never lack for material things. He’ll be able to buy himself a Senatorial seat, if he wants to. I understand politics is more lucrative than dragon slaying.”
“Good for your child,” Norton said shortly. “I’m not sure I’m going to sire it.”
“Orlene won’t let you go,” the ghost warned. “She knows you’re the one.”
“How can she stop me from leaving?”
Gawain pursed his lips. “You’ve got something to learn about the wiles of women!”
Norton brushed on out to rejoin Orlene, in no fit temper.
She had breakfast ready: bright green pancakes fresh from the Venusian fungus farm, and what appeared to be genuine beehive honey. That figured. He had to smile, and his mood abated. He joined her at the cozy dinette table.
Suddenly it seemed very domestic. He had never been the domestic type, but it was nice enough now. Orlene was very fetching in a green housecoat, her hair tied back with a scarlet ribbon. Green coat, honey hair, matching the pancakes and honey; did she do that unconsciously? But the ribbon-
Scarlet? “You know, there’s an old song about scarlet ribbons- “
“Yes,” she agreed. “I’ll play it for you after breakfast.”
“You have it on tape?”
She smiled obscurely. “No.”
After breakfast she showed him to another room. There was a baby grand piano there. She sat down before it and played beautifully.
“How did you come by talent like that?” he asked, impressed, as she finished the piece.
“It’s not talent. I’ve been practicing since I was six years old, and more since I’ve been married. It helps to wile away the time; I don’t feel so much alone when I’m playing. Anyway, musical skill is the fashion for debutantes.”
“You were a debutante? How did you get into-this?”
“The ghost marriage? My family arranged it, but I didn’t object. Gawain’s family is very well connected, and I want the best for my children too. This was the best marriage I could make.”
“But to a dead man!”
“Well, a ghost doesn’t make many demands on a girl. I think of it as like being widowed early, except there’s no grief. I never knew him in life.”
“But to-you have to- “
“I always did want a family. That would be the same if he were alive.”
“If he were alive, you would have known what you were getting. This way- “
“I do know,” she said. “This way I have a choice. The best possible father for my children, regardless of the accidents of lineage or wealth.”
“The glow? Frankly, I doubt- “
She grimaced prettily. “You prove the ghost exists, and I’ll prove the glow does.”
Actually, he believed she saw the glow; he had noticed it at work on the puzzle. But he also remembered his nightmare. The two might cancel out, her positive vision and his negative one, leaving the future in serious doubt. “Why don’t you just give me back my own clothes so I can leave? Then neither of us will have to prove anything.”
“Do you really want to leave?”
“No. That’s why I’d better.”
“And they talk about female logic!”
He had to smile. “I’m trying to do the right thing, as I see it, though I admit I’m not seeing it very well right now. It would be too easy to like you too well. I don’t think that’s what I’m here for.”
“Like me too well for what?”
“To love you and leave you.”
She was silent a moment, looking at him, and he feared he had spoken too directly. She had married a ghost; what could she know of the intimate way of man and woman? “Do you have to leave?”
“Of course I have to! I’m only here for a- “
“But it will take some time to know that the job is- done.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “You would want me to stay-after?”
“I think so.”
“You’re that sure of me? When you hardly know me?”
“Yes. The glow doesn’t lie.”
“Then I guess we’d better exchange our proofs.” He had no doubt that both ghost and glow would be verified to the other party’s satisfaction; this was really an excuse to change his mind. Orlene had conquered him without using wiles.
“I really don’t want the proof,” she said.‘ Too many other people have claimed to see the ghost. I was only making a point.”
Norton sighed. “I’m afraid I do need proof. To justify myself. The ghost of Gawain asked me to come here, and I want you to believe that. That has become important to me-that I’m not an imposter or opportunist. I don’t care how much I glow; it’s my motive I’m establishing.”
“But how can you prove a ghost that only you can see?”
“For one thing, others can see him too. We have only to ask them.”
“No, I know they all tell the same story, to tease me. Women are supposed to be so credulous!”
Norton considered. “Very well. Since this is Gawain’s estate, he should be conversant with every detail of it. He should be able to tell me things I would have no other way of knowing. Ask me questions only he could answer.”
She frowned. “Do you really insist on this, Norton?”
“I really do. I must prove to you what brought me here. I don’t want you to take my word.”
She considered, cocking her head to one side so that her tresses fell partway across her face. That was, he thought, a fetching effect, making a partial mystery other features that enhanced their appeal. “I haven’t been into everything here yet and I’m sure you haven’t. Suppose he calls off the items in- “She glanced about. “In that storage chest?” She indicated an ornate chest beside the piano.
“I’ll ask him,” Norton agreed. “I’ll have to go to another room, though, to talk to him, because Gawain says he can’t be in the same room with you.”
“I doubt he’s in the same world with me!”
“Maybe I can stand in the doorway and talk to you both. Will that be all right?”
“Whatever you wish.” She obviously expected nothing to come of this.
Norton went to the doorway between the two rooms. Orlene remained at the piano.
“Hey, Gawain!” Norton called. “Will you appear?” He was afraid the ghost would embarrass him by avoiding this test.
Gawain popped into sight. “Good notion, Norton! I’ll be happy to prove my existence to her!”
“Good enough. Orlene, he’s here. Ask a question.”
“You can see him?” she asked, rising and approaching the doorway.
“Yes. But don’t go into the other room; he’ll vanish.”
She stopped at the doorway. “I don’t see him.”
“But he can see you,” Norton said.
“Even when you’re not looking?”
“Certainly,” Gawain said.
“He says yes,” Norton reported.
“Very well. Let’s try this: you close your eyes and face away from me, and let him tell you what I’m doing.”
“All right.” Norton faced the ghost and closed his eyes.
“She’s holding her right hand above her head,” Gawain said.
“He says you’re holding your right hand over your head.”
“Now she’s writing in the air, script-I can’t read it, it’s backward.”
Norton relayed that.
“Oh,” Orlene said, startled.
“Okay, she’s turned around,” the ghost said. “Now I can read over her shoulder. THIS pause I S pause R I D I C U L O U S.”
“This is ridiculous,” Norton repeated.
She was silent, but he heard rustling.
“Say!” Gawain exclaimed. “She’s stripping!”
“She is?” Norton asked, startled in his turn.
“Great galumphing dragons!” the ghost said. “I’m sorry I’m not alive! I had no idea she had architecture like that!”
“He says you’re-undressing,” Norton said. “He says you have an excellent figure.”
“Oops, that did it,” Gawain said regretfully. “She covered up in a hurry. Man, I wish I was in your shoes!”
“He says- “
“I can guess!” Orlene snapped.
“Well, he is your husband,” Norton said. “And since he can’t share a room with you, he has not before had an opportunity to see- “
“Unladylike remark,” she said. “What’s in that chest by the piano?”
Norton lowered his hands; he had unconsciously brought them up to cover his closed eyes. “Gawain, will you tell us- “
The ghost shrugged. “The truth is, I don’t remember. I was mostly out slaying dragons. A housekeeper took care of the apartment.”
“He says he doesn’t remember,” Norton reported.
“I thought as much!”
“But I could check,” Gawain said. “Let her leave that room, and I’ll tally the contents now.”
“He says he’ll check now,” Norton said, “if you’ll just step into the other room.”
Orlene passed him and entered the other room. As she did so, the ghost vanished-and reappeared in the room she had vacated. Gawain walked to the chest and plunged his hand in through the polished wood. “What do you know,” he remarked brightly. “My old trophies! Best dragon kill of the year-that sort of thing. These should be up on the mantel on full display!”
Norton relayed that. “Oh?” Orlene asked. “Let me see.” She walked back into the room, switching places with the ghost, and tried to lift the lid. It didn’t budge. “It’s locked.”
“The key’s in my bedroom,” Gawain said. “In the left dresser drawer, if the fool maid hasn’t moved it.”
Norton told Orlene, who went and fetched the key, then unlocked the chest. Inside were trophies, exactly as described. “It’s true!” she said. “You couldn’t have known, Norton! I didn’t know! Unless you got the key last night and-but no, the chest is undisturbed.”
“Ask anything else,” Norton suggested. “I’m sure we can satisfy you.”
“I’ll try one other thing,” she decided. “What’s Gawain’s sister’s name?”
“I have no sister,” Gawain said.
“He says he has no- “
“What’s his mother’s maiden name?”
“Thrimbly.”
“Thrimbly,” Norton said.
“When did she get married?”
“June fourteenth,” Gawain said. “Three-thirty in the afternoon, in a private ceremony. The minister was the Reverend Q. Lombard. The wedding cake had a dragon rampant on it, breathing a column of firewater. All the guests got tanked on that water, including my father; he passed out, and my mother didn’t speak to him for the first week of the honeymoon. I was lucky to get conceived!”
Norton repeated the continuing details. Orlene raised her hands in surrender. “You see the ghost! I’ve got to concede that! Now it’s my turn to prove the glow.”
“Just what is the glow?” Norton asked. “Do I light the shadows?”
“No, not like that. It’s-well, have you heard of the animal-spell people? The ones who can shake hands, and the hand of the one they meet feels like the appendage of the animal he most closely resembles? A wolf’s paw, a barracuda’s fin, or a snake’s scale? Actually, that’s figurative; animals aren’t like that, not with the bad qualities. But with this magic, the person can tell if another is vicious, greedy, sneaky, or whatever. Well, with me it’s vision. I can tell who is the perfect companion, for me or for someone else. I see the aura illuminate. I have to set my mind to tune in to one person, then view the others through his situation, if you see what I mean.”
Norton shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. I know I’m not special; there have to be many better marriage prospects than I.”
“But you aren’t a marriage prospect. You’re a- “
“Never mind what I am! I begin to see your point. You actually do need a love-‘em-and-leave-‘em guy.”
“A nonmarrying guy. And most of those aren’t worth much as persons. You are. Of course, if I weren’t married, and wanted a husband, my situation would be different. I would want not only a good lover but also a good provider. You might not glow so strongly then.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t! I’m broke!”
“So it does require some tuning in. When I first saw you, you glowed so brightly I knew you were the one-and I wasn’t ready. I thought I might have tuned in inaccurately. I mean, I knew what I had to do, but it was so sudden. I knew my life had changed and that the time to conceive the heir had come. Now I’m getting used to it; I think those hours on the puzzle helped, and soon- “
“Why don’t we take a walk outside, and you can show me how your glow works on others,” Norton suggested.
“All right. Let me get into street clothes.” She hurried to her bedroom.
Gawain reappeared. “Now you’re making progress!” the ghost said with satisfaction. “I was able to listen through the wall this time; I can’t always do that.”
“Damn it, must you see it as Just that one thing?”
“Certainly. That’s what you’re both here for, isn’t it? To beget my heir?”
“I don’t know. If I go through with this, I’m afraid I’ll leave more than my seed behind.”
“Oh, don’t get maudlin about it,” Gawain said. “You’ve probably had almost as many women as I have! Think of it as one more dragon to be slain.”
“She’s no dragon!”
“Oh, I don’t know. Women and dragons-I’d call them two of a kind.”
“You don’t love her?”
“Of course not! I’m dead!”
“I could love her. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Then don’t hurt her! Give her what she needs-a son.”
“I had a dream that I destroyed her. I worry about that.”
“You can’t hurt her if you leave her after it’s done.”
“Some people are hurt worse by being left,” Norton muttered.
“Don’t worry. She’ll have the very best care money can buy, courtesy of my estate.”
“I wasn’t thinking of physical hurt, necessarily. She’s a young, vibrant girl. I don’t think she can give herself to a man without giving all of herself. She- “
He paused, for Gawain had vanished. Orlene stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a modest green street skirt with matching jacket and hat and shoes, and now looked very businesslike. Her fair hair was pinned back with green barrettes. Somehow all that green reminded him of the breakfast pancakes, of the park scene in the puzzle, and of the lovely wilderness itself. “The ghost again?” she asked.
Embarrassed, Norton nodded. “He has only one thing on his mind.”
She cocked her head at him again. “And you don’t?”
“I have a care for the damage I may do to others.”
“I think that’s why you glow so brightly.” He shrugged. “Maybe. But maybe I want more than I have a right to want.”
She touched his hand. “I told you before, Norton. You don’t have to go after it’s done.”
“I think I do. You are a married woman.” She looked at him so intently that he became nervous.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m visualizing you as a prospective husband, to compare the glow.”
“Don’t do that! I’m not your-can never be your- “
“That’s odd,” she said. “That hasn’t happened before.”
“What hasn’t happened?”
“The glow seems to have split. Part of it is extremely intense, but part of it is dim. As if you would be both a very good husband and a not-very-good husband.”
“How can that be?”
“I’m not sure. You see, the glow doesn’t figure character per se. It includes the total person, the total situation. How good a person is, how loyal, how effective a provider, how lucky or unlucky-the perfect man might be downgraded because an unfortunate accident will cripple him in five years, making him worse through no fault of his own.”
Norton felt a chill. “I might have an accident?”
“No. I don’t think it’s that. Maybe it’s that you could be the perfect husband, but you won’t be, because I can’t marry you. You’re too good for the job-overqualified. So you suffer.”
“Overqualified!” Norton exclaimed incredulously. “I don’t know,” she said quickly. “That’s just a conjecture. I don’t understand all the aspects of the glow. I just see its brightness.”
“Well, stop considering me as-as the impossible. It’s time to go out.”
“Of course.” She took his arm, and they went out. Travel on the fast belts took them to this floor’s nearest mall, where shoppers thronged in the fashion they had done so for millennia at such centers. This could be a market at Babylon or in a medieval city. The stores had changed somewhat in detail in the ensuing interval, however. Today they were holographic images, each in its alcove, the goods being displayed with lifelike realism, each tagged with its price. The shopper had only to touch the image of the item he wanted; it would be shipped directly from the warehouse to his home, and his account as identified by his fingerprint patterns would be debited accordingly. Of course, these were mostly standard items whose details were generally known; the more individual ones required a different type of shopping. Marked containers of food in set units did not need to be physically verified, while specially fitted clothing did. There were booths for fitting via holo imaging, but that still required undressing.
They stopped at an ice cream stall, where the holograph of a chef stood by a chart of a thousand different flavors and types. Orlene touched the panels for their choices-honey flavor, of course-and the cones snapped into the adjacent holders, to be taken physically. The account of Gawain would be debited. Norton, of course, couldn’t order; he had no account. In the vernacular of the day, he was of no account.
Orlene also saw a popular book that looked interesting, so she touched its holo too; in a moment it was printed for her on the machine’s supply of paper. It was a historical novel, set in the fascinating time when people believed in neither magic nor science, so had wretched lives. She put the book in her purse.
They sat on a bench, licking their cones in nominal fashion, and watched the people passing by. Orlene called out the brightnesses of each one. The problem, she explained, was that any person’s suitability as a partner varied greatly, depending on whom he was partnered with. Thus she could get several readings with different matchups.
Norton was intrigued, but remained uncertain whether the glows she perceived were really magic or only imagination. He wanted to verify some cases, but did not feel right about walking up to strangers and asking how their interpersonal relations were. Orlene surely perceived the glows-but just how accurate were they?
Then the proof came, abruptly. Orlene called out an older couple, walking hand in hand, evidently still much attached to each other. They were well dressed and handsome for their age. Yet Orlene called out a striking difference in their glows. The woman’s glow was strong; she was almost perfect for the man. But his glow was absent. In fact, it was negative: a dark shadow. “He’s completely wrong for her!” Orlene whispered.
“I can’t believe that,” Norton protested. “Look how well they relate to each other! Even if he has a mistress on the side, he’s got to be good for this woman. She’s well eared for and contented.”
“The glow is absent,” Orlene insisted. “He’s bad for her!”
“That just doesn’t make sense!”
Then they had to be quiet, for the couple was approaching. In fact, they sat down nearby on the bench. Norton wrestled with himself, trying to decide whether to speak to them, to try to resolve the discrepancy.
“Just a little tired,” the man was saying.
“Yes, of course,” the woman agreed.
Then the man fell off the bench.
Norton jumped up to help him, for he knew something about emergency aid. But he realized as he saw the man’s staring face that he was dead. “Resuscitation unit!” Norton snapped, and a machine burst out of the nearest wall and rolled over to attend to the man.
It took the machine only a moment to confirm Norton’s diagnosis. “Unit failure-beyond repair,” it clicked.
The ambulance unit came and loaded the body aboard, taking also the shocked widow. It was all accomplished so swiftly and neatly that many shoppers never realized anything had happened-which was, of course, the point. People did not like shopping where death occurred, with good reason; sometimes vengeful ghosts remained.
“Oh, that’s so horrible!” Orlene said shudderingly. “Must we stay here?”
“Of course not.” They walked to the moving belt.
But as they were carried back toward the apartment, Norton realized that the glow had been confirmed. The man had been a poor partner for the woman, not because of any failure of resources or personality or loyalty, but because he was not going to be with her very long and, in fact, had been about to bring her crushing grief. Thus the glow, instead of being absent, was black. The glow had known-before the fact.
He had to accept the glow; it was legitimate magic. That meant he had to accept its verdict on him: he was right for Orlene. But what, then, of his dream? That suggested he was wrong for her-perhaps in the fashion of the man they had just seen die. Which was he to believe?
“Your glow is wavering,” Orlene murmured. “Are you thinking of leaving me?”
Norton started guiltily. “I don’t know what is right.” She held his arm tightly. “Oh, please, Norton! I couldn’t spend a night alone after seeing-that.”
He realized that she had never been exposed to violence or death, so was not equipped to handle it. Of course she would be severely shaken. This would be the worst time to leave her.
They arrived at the apartment. As the door closed,
Orlene turned to him, flung her arms about him, buried her head in his shoulder, and sobbed. She had been fairly well controlled in public, but now she was letting down. He held her; there was nothing else to do. Norton had always liked to help people and he could not refuse her his companionship and support now. Or was he, he had to ask himself, rationalizing?
After a time she relaxed. She disengaged and went to the bathroom to put herself in order. “I’ll never eat ice cream again,” she said as she disappeared.
Ice cream. Guilt by association. She had eaten it just before the tragedy. An illogical connection, but valid emotionally. He did not feel much appetite for ice cream now himself. Or for shopping mails.
“You fighting with her?” Gawain demanded, popping into sight. “I heard her crying.”
“Couldn’t you see?” Norton demanded irritably.
“No. You weren’t visible from the other room. I can walk through walls, but I can’t see through them. All I could do was listen to the muffled sounds.”
“We weren’t fighting.”
“What, then?”
“What business is it of yours?”
“Listen, mortal, it is my business!” Gawain retorted.
“This is my estate, and she’s my wife.”
“A wife you never knew in life and don’t love now.”
“Well, I’m a ghost! What use to love her?”
The ghost had a point. Perversely, that made it easier for Norton. Whatever he did with Orlene would not be treading on Gawain’s sensibilities. “We saw a man die. That shook her.”
Gawain snorted. “I’ve seen many men die. I’m dead myself.”
In more than one sense. “I think I see now why she had so much trouble believing in you. She doesn’t like death and doesn’t want it near her.”
“She should have thought of that before she married me!”
“It wasn’t entirely her choice, any more than it was yours. Men usually marry for sex appeal, but women marry for security. It’s the nature of the human species, or of our economy. If women were the prime money earners, they might marry for other reasons, and if men had no better way to gain security than through women, so would they. I’m sure she would have married a living man if that had been feasible.”
“Well, she didn’t! And now she has a job to do-and so do you. I don’t want to wait in limbo forever. Tell her you won’t stay unless she puts out now, today. She’ll move it along for sure, since she doesn’t want to be alone.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind!” Norton responded angrily. “She’s no piece of meat!”
“She’s the breeder for my heir! She’s not here to pussyfoot around. She’s vulnerable now; you can make her perform in the next hour, if you- “
“Listen, Gawain, I never pressured a woman in my life! And I would never take advantage of a situation like this!”
“No, you’d just sit around interminably, sponging off my estate!”
“To Hell with your estate!” Norton shouted. “You asked me for a favor! I never had any intention of taking anything of yours!”
“Then do what you came to do and get gone!” the ghost shouted back.
“I’ll get gone right now, if that makes you happier! You can find another man to do your favor!”
The ghost backed off, literally and figuratively. “I told you, she’s choosy. It’s got to be you.”
“I am not at all certain of that. In any event, it will be of her choosing, not yours or mine.”
But Gawain was gone again. Orlene stood in the doorway, in a gray housecoat. “Gawain again?”
Norton nodded. “I shouldn’t let him provoke me.”
“I suppose he has a case. He wants his heir.”
“Yes. But he neglects the social aspect.” She glided to him. “Norton, at first, I confess, I was suspicious, despite the glow. You glowed, but you weren’t committed, and the ghost- “She shrugged. “But since then I’ve watched you glow as you talk with him. It flickers as you react. It is not a lie detector, but the glow is not under your control, so it suggests to me how you really feel. When you spoke just now of leaving, it damped right down. You weren’t bluffing.”
“I’m not a bluffer,” Norton agreed ruefully. “He wants me to perform like a hired stud and get out. I thought I could, before I met you, but now I can’t.”
“I know,” she said softly. “You really want to do the right thing.”
“Yes. And that may be to move out right now.”
“No!” she cried. “Please, Norton, no! I told you I couldn’t stand to be- “
“But you’d be alone tomorrow if I did it his way.”
“Gawain’s an idiot,” she snapped. “He doesn’t know the first thing about siring an heir. I couldn’t get pregnant today if they inseminated me artificially. It’s not that time of the month. And if it were, there’s no guarantee that one time would do it. The only way to be sure is to remain until a test establishes the pregnancy-and that could take several months.”
Norton spread his hands. “You’re right, of course. I’m as foolish as he.”
“You tell him that now,” she said. “His efforts are only delaying things. I’ll give you two minutes.”
“But that means I would have to stay for- “
“Months,” she said. “Do you object?”
“No!” he said, his feeling surprising him. “Then tell him. Then he won’t nag you about that any more, and we can be in peace.” She turned and left.
Gawain reappeared. “I heard,” he said. “The vixen is right. Okay already, I’ll take a tour around the world. You stay here until you’re sure.”
“What about all my sponging off your estate?”
“I said that in anger. I apologize. I want you to stay. Will you?”
Norton sighed. “Yes.”
“But first I’ll teach you how to slay dragons.”
“That was to be my payment,” Norton said. “But we didn’t realize how long it would take me to deliver. Let’s consider the room and board as payment instead.”
Gawain smiled, waved, and disappeared.
Orlene returned. “All right?”
“Yes. He agrees. He’s gone.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well, I can’t be sure. But he said he was going on a tour of the world. I think he realized that his purpose will be fulfilled better if he butts out for a white.”
“Yes. I never liked the idea of his watching. After all- “
“He can’t share a room with you and he can’t see through walls. So if you close things up- “
“That’s a relief,” she said. “I-that is, I’m not good at saying this-do you want to do it now?”
That was all the invitation Norton needed. He surprised himself by declining. “There’s no point. Wrong time of the- “
“You don’t want to-to do it just for the fun?”
Norton hesitated. “With any other woman-who looked like you-I would be glad to. I have-before. But this is not for fun. It’s business. I can’t justify it any other way.”
“Why not?”
Norton stared at the floor. “I can never marry you.”
“You want too much.”
“Yes, I suppose I do. I never did before, but now- “
She walked around the room. “I think that’s what turned me off the other men who came. Oh, it’s true their glows were low-but if one of them had had a high glow, I wouldn’t have liked it, because all any of them wanted was free sex. I’m not a prostitute, and if I were I wouldn’t give it away free. I can’t really be with a man unless he cares.”
“But a man who cares-wouldn’t want to have it this way.”
“Look,” she said abruptly. “Lots of men have mistresses who last through several wives. Because the mistresses are true love interests. What is legal is not always actual. Why would you have to leave-ever?”
“I’m a wanderer. I have never stayed long in one place.”
“But if a woman were willing to travel with you?”
“None has been, so far. And you are bound to the estate.”
“No. I am bound to produce an heir to the estate. Then I can travel with whom I want to.”
What joy! “We’ve known each other less than a day.”
“Oh, of course it might not work out,” she said quickly. “I am merely making the point that you can love me if you want to. I know I can love you.”
“May the Lord have mercy on me,” he said slowly. “I think I want to.”
She held something out to him. “Let me give you this, as a token of our illicit potential love.”
He looked. It was a ring in the form of a small green snake. The head was slightly raised, serving in lieu of a precious stone. The eyes shone; perhaps they were gems.
“But I have nothing to give you in return!”
“Yes, you do. Give me yourself.”
It made a certain sense. She, as a married woman, could not truly give herself to him. But he could give himself to her, as companion or whatever. She had a dead husband; now she wanted a living man. One who cared.
He accepted her ring and put it on his left middle finger. It fitted perfectly and comfortably, as if made just for him.
“Now- “Orlene said.
“This has very little logic,” he warned her.
“I know. Do what you will with me.”
He laughed. He picked her up and carried her into sitting room. He kissed her and set her down by the puzzle. “I want a piece, woman!”
She smiled. “Yes, sir!”
They got to work on the puzzle.