Grey were eavesdropping on a conversation taking place on the other side of a wall, and all things considered, he counted it a small mercy to be left alone with only his own thoughts for company, no Zero and his talk-talk-talk filling up his head.
Guilder was the only one who took his blood straight from the source. That was what they called Grey, the Source, like he wasn’t even a person but a thing, which he supposed he was. Not always but sometimes, when he was feeling especially hungry, or for other reasons Grey couldn’t guess at, Guilder would appear at the door in his underclothes, so as not to get blood on his suit. He would unhook the bag from its tube, viscous fluid spurting over him, and place the IV in his mouth, sucking up Grey’s blood like a kid taking soda pop from a straw. Lawrence, he liked to say, you’re not looking so hot. Are they feeding you enough? I worry about you all alone down here. Once, long ago, years or even decades, Guilder had brought a mirror with him. It was in what used to be called a lady’s compact. Guilder popped the lid and angled it to Grey’s face, saying, Why don’t you take a look? An old man’s face gazed back at him, wrinkled as a prune—the face of someone sitting on the fence of death.
He was permanently dying.
Then one day he awoke to find Guilder straddling a chair, looking at him. His tie was undone around his neck, his hair askew; his suit was rumpled and stained. Grey could tell he was late in his cycle. He could smell the rot coming off the man—a dumpstery, corpselike, slightly fruity stink—but Guilder made no move to feed. Grey had the sense that Guilder had been sitting there for some time.
“Let me ask you something, Lawrence.”
The question was going to be asked one way or another. “Okay.”
“Have you ever … now, how do I put this?” Guilder shrugged vaguely. “Have you ever been in love?”
Coming from the man’s mouth, the word seemed completely alien. Love was the property of a different age; it was positively prehistoric.
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
Guilder’s face bunched with a frown. “Really, it seems like a perfectly simple question to me. Choirs of angels singing in their heaven, your feet levitating three inches off the ground. You know. In love.”
“I guess not.”
“It’s a yes or no thing, Lawrence. It’s one or the other.”
He thought of Lila. Love was what he felt for her, but not the way Guilder meant. “No. I’ve never been in love.”
Guilder was looking past him. “Well I was, once. Her name was Shawna. Though that wasn’t her real name, of course. She had skin like butter, Lawrence. I’m totally serious here. That was how it tasted. Something a little Asian about her eyes, you know that look? And her body, well.” He rubbed his face and exhaled a melancholy breath. “I don’t feel that part anymore. The sex part. The virus pretty much takes care of that. Nelson thought the steroids you were taking might have been the reason the virus was different in you. There might have been some truth to that. But you make your bed, you have to lie in it.” He chuckled ironically. “Make your bed. That’s funny. That’s a laugh.”
Grey said nothing. Whatever mood Guilder was in, it seemed to have nothing to do with him.
“I suppose it’s not such a bad thing on the whole. I can’t honestly say that sex ever did me any favors. But even after all these years, I still think about her. Little things. Things she said. The way the sun looked, falling over her bed. I kind of miss the sun.” He paused. “I know she didn’t love me. It was all a big act was what it was. I knew that from the start, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself. But there you have it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Why?” His gaze narrowed on Grey’s face. “That should be obvious. You can be pretty obtuse, if you’ll pardon my saying so. Because we’re friends, Lawrence. I know, you probably think I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you. It could certainly appear that way. I’m sure this all might feel a little unfair. But you really left me no choice. Honestly, Lawrence? As odd as it seems, you’re the oldest friend I have.”
Grey held his tongue. The man