him. With a cry of joy he leapt to his feet and broke into a frantic run. The high heels of his formal pumps slipped on the gravel path. Cursing, he hopped along, pulling them off. Then with a shoe in each hand he flew up the stairs and onto the Rue de Rivoli. Horns blared, tires squealed, drivers shrieked. He ran on heedless of it all. Pulled up gasping before the glass and marble entrance to the Hotel Intercontinental. Met the bemused eyes of the doorman, slipped his feet into his shoes, straightened his coat, patted at his tumbled hair, trod casually into the quiet lobby.
"Bonjour."
The desk clerk's eyes widened in dawning wonder as he recognized the extravagant figure before him. He was a handsome man in his mid-thirties with sleek seal-brown hair and deep blue eyes.
"You have a woman working here. Danelle Moncey. It is vital that I speak with her."
"Moncey? No, Monsieur Tachyon. There is no one by-"
"Damn! She married. I forgot that. She's a maid, midfifties, black eyes, gray hair." His heart was thundering, setting up an answering pounding in his temples. The young man looked nervously down at Tachyon's hands, which had closed urgently about his lapels, pulling him half over the counter. Releasing the clerk, Tachyon rubbed his fingertips. "Forgive me. As you can see, this is very important... very important to me."
"I'm sorry, but there is no Danelle working here."
"She's a Communist," Tach added in desperation.
The man shook his head, but the pert blond behind the exchange counter suddenly said, "Ah, no, Francois. You know, Danelle."
"Then she is here?"
"Oh, mais oui. She is on the third floor-"
"Will you get her for me?" Tachyon gave the girl his best come-hither smile.
"Monsieur, she is working," protested the desk clerk. " I only require a moment of her time."
"Monsieur, I cannot have a cleaning woman in the lobby of the Intercontinental." It was almost a wail.
"Blood's end! Then I'll go to her."
Danelle was bundling sheets into a hamper. Gasped when she saw him, tried to bull past him using her cleaning cart as a battering ram. He danced aside and caught her by the wrist.
"We must talk." He was grinning like a fool. "I'm working."
"Take the day off."
"I'll lose my job."
"You're not going to need this job any longer."
"Oh, why not?"
A man and his wife stepped out of their room and stared curiously at the couple.
"This won't do."
She eyed him, checked her cheap wristwatch. "It's almost my break. I'll meet you at the Cafe Morens just down from the hotel on the Rue du Juillet. Buy me some cigarettes and my usual."
"Which is?"
"They'll know. I always take my break there."
He took her face between his hands and kissed her. Smiled at her confused expression.
"What has happened with you?"
"I'll tell you at the cafe."
As he hurried back through the lobby he saw the desk clerk just hanging up the phone in one of the public booths. The young blond woman waved and called, "Did you find her?"
"Oh, yes. Thank you very much."
Tachyon fidgeted at one of the tiny tables that had been squeezed out front of the cafe. The street was so narrow that the parked cars had two wheels cocked up on the sidewalks.
Dani arrived and lit a Gauloise. "So what is this all about?"
"You lied to me." He shook a finger coyly under her nose. "Our daughter is not dead. At Versailles ... that was not a wild card, it was my blood kin. I don't blame you for wanting to hurt me, but let me make it up to you. I'll get you both back to America."
A small car was gunning down the street. As it swept past, the chatter of automatic weapon fire echoed off the gray stone buildings. Danelle jerked in the chair. Tachyon caught her, flung them both down behind one of the parked cars. A white-hot poker burned through his thigh, and his elbow hit the sidewalk with a jarring crack. He lay frozen, cheek pressed to the pavement, something warm running over his hand. His leg had gone numb.
Danelle's breath was rattling in her throat. Tachyon took her mind. Gisele appeared. Reflected a million times over in a million different memories. Gisele. A brilliant firefly presence.
Desperately he reached after her, but she was receding, a lost and elusive magic among the darkening pathways of her dying mother's mind.
Danelle died. Gisele died.
But had left a part of herself. A son. Tach clung to her, violating every rule of advanced mentatics