Fear Nothing - By Dean Koontz Page 0,91

biscuits for you.”

Orson issued a thin, pleading whine.

“I mean it, dog,” Roosevelt said quietly but firmly. “I can’t make you talk to me if you don’t want to. But I can insist that you display a minimum of manners aboard my boat. You can’t just come in here and wolf down the canapes as if you were some wild beast.”

Orson gazed into Roosevelt’s eyes as though trying to judge his commitment to this no-wolfing rule.

Roosevelt didn’t blink.

Apparently convinced that this was no empty threat, the dog lowered his attention to the three biscuits. He gazed at them with such desperate longing that I thought I ought to try one of the damn things, after all.

“Good pup,” said Roosevelt.

He picked up a remote-control device from the table and jabbed one of the buttons on it, although the tip of his finger seemed too large to press fewer than three buttons at once. Behind Orson, motorized tambour doors rolled up and out of sight on the top half of a built-in hutch, revealing two stacks of tightly packed electronic gear gleaming with light-emitting diodes.

Orson was interested enough to turn his head for a moment before resuming worship of the forbidden biscuits.

In the hutch, a large video monitor clicked on. The quartered screen showed murky views of the fog-shrouded marina and the bay on all four sides of the Nostromo.

“What’s this?” I wondered.

“Security.” Roosevelt put down the remote control. “Motion detectors and infrared sensors will pick up anyone approaching the boat and alert us at once. Then a telescopic lens automatically isolates and zooms in on the intruder before he gets here, so we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

“What are we dealing with?”

The man mountain took two slow, dainty sips of his coffee before he said, “You might already know too much about that.”

“What do you mean? Who are you?”

“I’m nobody but who I am,” he said. “Just old Rosie Frost. If you’re thinking that maybe I’m one of the people behind all this, you’re wrong.”

“What people? Behind what?”

Looking at the four security-camera views on the quartered video monitor, he said, “With any luck, they’re not even aware that I know about them.”

“Who? People at Wyvern?”

He turned to me again. “They’re not just at Wyvern anymore. Townspeople are in it now. I don’t know how many. Maybe a couple of hundred, maybe five hundred, but probably not more than that, at least not yet. No doubt it’s gradually spreading to others…and it’s already beyond Moonlight Bay.”

Frustrated, I said, “Are you trying to be inscrutable?”

“As much as I can, yes.”

He got up, fetched the coffeepot, and without further comment freshened our cups. Evidently he intended to make me wait for morsels of information in much the way that poor Orson was being made to wait patiently for his snack.

The dog licked the tabletop around the three biscuits, but his tongue never touched the treats.

When Roosevelt returned to his chair, I said, “If you’re not involved with these people, how do you know so much about them?”

“I don’t know all that much.”

“Apparently a lot more than I do.”

“I know only what the animals tell me.”

“What animals?”

“Well, not your dog, for sure.”

Orson looked up from the biscuits.

“He’s a regular sphinx,” Roosevelt said.

Although I hadn’t been aware of doing so, sometime soon after sunset, I had evidently walked through a magic looking-glass.

Deciding to play by the lunatic rules of this new kingdom, I said, “So…aside from my phlegmatic dog, what do these animals tell you?”

“You shouldn’t know all of it. Just enough so you realize it’s best that you forget what you saw in the hospital garage and up at the funeral home.”

I sat up straighter in my chair, as though pulled erect by my tightening scalp. “You are one of them.”

“No. Relax, son. You’re safe with me. How long have we been friends? More than two years now since you first came here with your dog. And I think you know you can trust me.”

In fact, I was at least half convinced that I could still trust Roosevelt Frost, even though I was no longer as sure of my character judgment as I had once been.

“But if you don’t forget what you saw,” he continued, “if you try to contact authorities outside town, you’ll endanger lives.”

As my chest tightened around my heart, I said, “You just told me I could trust you, and now you’re threatening me.”

He looked wounded. “I’m your friend, son. I wouldn’t threaten you. I’m only telling you—”

“Yeah. What the animals said.”

“It’s the

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