complete times. A beautiful elderly woman with dark smooth gray hair stood at the end of the wooden porch and called to Aaron. He waved and gestured that he would be coming. He looked at Stolov.
“Good God, man, say something,” said Stolov. “We know how hard this has been for you. Go on home to London. Take a well-deserved rest.”
Just wrong. Everything the man was saying, his manner, his words.
“Right you are,” said Aaron softly.
“What?” said Stolov.
“I’m not leaving, Erich. It’s been a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, and I know better than to try to deter you from obeying your orders. You’re here to do something. You will try to do it. But I’m not leaving. Yuri, will you stay with me?”
“Now, Aaron,” said Stolov, “that is very simply out of the question for Yuri. He is already…”
“Of course I will stay,” said Yuri. “It was for you that I came.”
“Where are your lodgings, Erich? Are you at the Pontchartrain with the rest of us?” Aaron asked.
“Downtown,” said Stolov. He was getting impatient again, flustered. “Aaron, you are no help to the Talamasca now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Aaron. “But I must confess, Erich, that the Talamasca—at this moment—is no help to me. These are my people now, Erich. Glad to have met you.”
This was dismissal. Aaron extended his hand. The tall blond one looked for one moment as if he would lose his temper, then he cooled, and drew himself up. “I’ll contact you in the morning. Where will you be?”
“I don’t know,” said Aaron. “Probably here…with all these people,” he said. “My people. I think it’s the safest place for us now, don’t you?”
“I don’t know how you could take this attitude, Aaron. We need your cooperation. As soon as possible, I want to make contact, speak with Michael Curry…”
“No. That is not going to happen, Erich. You do what the Elders told you to do, as I’m sure you will. But you will not bother this family, at least not with my permission or with my introduction.”
“Aaron, we want to help! That’s why I am here.”
“Good-night, Erich.”
In sheer consternation, the blond one stood there silently, and then he turned on his heel and walked away. The big black car was waiting for him as it had been for two hours, during which this act had been played and replayed.
“He’s lying,” said Aaron.
“He’s not Talamasca,” said Yuri, though it was more a suggestion than a statement.
“Oh, yes, he is. He’s one of us, and he’s lying. Don’t turn your back on him for an instant.”
“No, I wouldn’t. But Aaron, how can this be? How can such a thing…”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard of him. He’s been with us for three years. I’ve heard of his work in Italy and in Russia. He’s very much respected. David Talbot thought highly of him. If only we hadn’t lost David. But Stolov’s not so very clever. He can’t read minds that well. He could perhaps if he himself weren’t putting on such an act. But the facade requires all his cunning. And so he’s not very good.”
The black car had silently slithered away from the curb.
“I am too, Aaron. I don’t understand it. I want to contact the Elders. I want to speak directly to someone, to hear a voice.”
“That will never happen, my boy,” said Aaron.
“Aaron, in the years before the computer, what did you do?”
“It was always typewritten. All communications went to the Motherhouse in Amsterdam, and the replies came by mail. Communication took greater time; less was said, I suspect. But there was never a voice attached to it, Yuri, or a face. In the days before the typewriter, a scribe wrote the letters for the Elders. No one knew who this was.”
“Aaron, let me tell you something.”
“I know what you’re going to say,” said Aaron calmly, thoughtfully. “You knew the Amsterdam Motherhouse well before you ever left it—every nook and cranny. You cannot imagine where the Elders came together, where they received their communications. Nobody knows.”
“Aaron, you have been in the Order for decades. You can appeal to the Elders. Surely there is some way under such circumstances…”
Aaron smiled in a cold, knowing way. “Your expectations are higher than mine, Yuri,” he said.
The pretty gray-haired woman had left the porch and was coming towards them. Small-boned, with delicate wrists, she wore her simple flaring silk dress with grace. Her ankles were as slender and well-shaped as those of a