An Evil Guest

A REMOTE PACIFIC ISLAND...

“I saw their sign as we left,” Cassie said as the black hopper that doubled as a sedan lifted off. “It’s a woman with no head, and it ought to scare me. Why doesn’t it?” She was full of roast hare and spätzle, champagne and Black Forest cake, and felt relaxed, sleepy, and perhaps a little romantic.

“Because it assures you that women should talk as long as they’re able to.”

“Really?” She considered. “I don’t think so.”

“You may be right. You’ve had my explanation...”

They hopped.

“What’s yours?”

“That was it, wasn’t it? We’re back home.”

“More or less. High enough that the noise shouldn’t bother anybody on the ground much, and low enough to be under the radar — I hope. Over a thinly populated area with an old timber road running through it.”

“You love me, Gid?”

“Much, much more than I should.”

“You trust me, too. We’ve already talked about that, so I won’t ask. I’m going to say right now that I won’t touch anything you tell me not to touch or do anything you tell me not to do. I won’t hop or go up. Not an inch off the ground.”

For a moment he turned to glance at her.

“When we go back to the rental, I want to drive this. You can show me the way in the rental. When we get to the agency and you’ve turned it in, you drive this to my hotel. All right?”

“No.”

She stroked his arm. “Please, Gid?”

“Absolutely not. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Last chance. Please?”

“No, and I don’t think there’s anything you can do or say that will make me change my mind. I’m saying no for your sake, Cassie.”

Gently, the black hopper landed on two faint tracks that wandered away among trees. As its tires took its weight, the headlights came on.

“Well, I’m going to try. I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but it’s the only thing I’ve got. I had company last night — company that scared me half to death. Maybe they were trying to be friends. I hope so. But I don’t want to sleep alone in that hotel room tonight. I was going to ask you to stay with me, but I won’t now. I’ll call Ebony and try to talk her into coming up to my room and sleeping with me.”

“You weren’t going to do that?” The black hopper rolled silently forward.

“No. I wanted you there in the bed with me.”

“If I would let you drive this?”

Cassie sighed. “I’d want you anyway, Gid. Ebony wouldn’t be much fun, and if those bat-things came back, she’d probably be as scared as I was.”

“They look on you as a friend, I’m sure.”

“That’s scary, too. Please, Gid? I’m a good driver, because I don’t drive enough to get confident. I’ll drive very conservatively, stop at all the stop signs, and never speed, I promise.”

“Why do you want to do it?”

Seconds passed before she answered, and when she did her voice had fallen almost to inaudibility, becoming small and frightened. “Well, because I want to feel, just for a little while, that I belong with you and Wally. You can’t understand that.”

“I think I may.”

“You’re not a woman, so you can’t. I want to be — I want to matter. I want to be somebody, not because I’m Wallace Rosenquist’s woman or because I’m Gideon Chase’s woman. Because I’m Cassie Casey.”

“You are someone, Cassie. You just don’t know it.”

“If I were, you’d let me drive.”

Silence descended. Shadowy trees appeared to jog past them, moving rapidly and purposefully while they bumped and jolted. At last Gideon said, “I’ll stop and get out. You get behind the wheel so I can coach you.”

“How far do I get to drive?”

“All the way into the city.”

“In this?” She smiled.

“No, when we get the rental you’ll drive that.” He braked. “We can change drivers now.”

She shook her head. The smile was gone.

“You’d be alone in this car. It would be a terrible risk.”

“But I can drive it now?”

“Yes.” He opened the door and got out. “Until we come to the place where we left the rental.”

She hesitated, then nodded.

They met at the front of the car, where blue-white beams from the headlights fenced them on both sides. Gideon caught her there and kissed her, released her, and felt her cling to him.

When the doors had closed again, Cassie sat behind the wheel. “Now tell me what I mustn’t do. Tell me that first. After that you can tell me how it works.”

“There’s only one thing you mustn’t do. Don’t start the computer. Hopping and warping require it, both of them. Leave it off, and you’ve got a very simple car that employs a micropile to generate electricity. An electric vehicle like this is actually easier to drive than a hybrid or an all-fuel.”

She nodded.

“There’s a motor for each wheel; and the wheels are A, B, C, and D, starting left front and going clockwise. The four little gauges up top are giving you information on those wheels individually. Don’t worry about them. That big dial in the middle is the speedometer, of course. Keep it below ten until we get on a better road. If this one gets any worse, keep it below five. By now you’ve already found the accelerator and the brake pedal.”

She nodded.

“I’ve been using them, mostly because I need to train myself to drive using my left leg. You can use them, too, but you don’t have to. Now say ‘ten’ loudly and firmly.”

“Ten!”

The acceleration was gentle and very brief. When the virtual needle touched ten, it ceased.

“It will steer itself if you tell it to, but that will be tricky, especially on a road like this. I’d stick with manual steering, if I were you.”

“What if I want to use the pedal or the brake?”

“Just do it. The car will respond normally. The only way you’ll have a problem is if you try to give a verbal command at the same time. Hit the accelerator and shout ‘Stop!’ for example. It will obey one or the other, but there’s no way to tell which. Don’t do it.”

“I won’t.” She crossed her heart while thinking of what she might do.

“The doors lock automatically when you start and unlock automatically when you stop. If you want to keep them locked, just say ‘Lock.’ ”

“It’s not responding to you when you say those things, is it?”

“No. For one thing, I’m not saying them loudly and firmly enough. More importantly, I’m not sitting in the driver’s seat. If you want to test it, make sure you’re going to like what happens when it obeys.”

“Let me try. Seven!”

The car slowed, the virtual needle creeping down.

“What else do I need to know?”

“How to reverse. Here’s the switch. Throw it, and the car will slow down and back until you brake. Or you can say ‘Reverse.’ When you do, the switch will change positions automatically.”

Cassie smiled. “I’ve got it.”

“To go forward again, push the switch the other way or say a number. In reverse there’s a top speed of two miles an hour.”

She studied him. “You could back faster than that.”

“You’re right, but I’d have to use the computer to change the setting. You’re not going to turn the computer on. Are you?”

“No. I’d be in over my head, and I know it. Is it much farther?”

It was not. The timber road joined the neglected side road, she tripled the speed of the black car, and the onetime body shop where they had left Gideon’s rented coupe came into view. She pulled the black car alongside it, leaving room enough for him to open his door.

He got out while she was still fiddling with her seat belt. As his door closed, she said, “Ninety!”

The black car shot ahead, its acceleration pushing her deep into the soft upholstery. For moments that seemed like forever, it was all she could do to steer. At last she said, “Fifty!”

The black car slowed to a speed that was almost sensible, and she smiled and relaxed. A minute or two later she tapped the computer screen. “Hey! Wake up!”

The screen remained dark.

“Come on, Sleepy!” She steered with her left hand while her right pressed keys at random. “On!”

A voice from the backseat — a voice that might almost have been the soughing of a weary wind — whispered, “Say ‘Computer.’ ”

Cassie stared into the rearview mirror, seeing nothing. “Who the heck are you?”

There was no reply.

The neglected side road joined the main road from which Gideon had turned, and that main road quickly became a suburban street. As she braked for a traffic light, she said, “Computer!”

Lights flickered across the screen. “Start-up comprete.” The computer spoke with the simulated voice of a Japanese woman. “How may I serve you?”

“I have questions about this car. Can you answer those?”

“Many, but of not are. What are your questions?”

A small voice near the dome light, secretive and somehow tinny, suggested, “Ask how to hop.”

“I haven’t found the turn signal. Where is it?”

“Turns are signared by brinking the rear rights and running rights.”

“But how do I do it?”

“You do not. The hopper does it.”

“You?”

“No, the hopper. Thus they are operative when I am off.”

“It knows when I’m about to turn?”

“It knows when it is about to turn.”

“I — see. Can you provide coffee? Or tea?”

“Which would you prefer?”

A deep voice behind her suggested, “Ask for whiskey.”

“Tea, please. Hot tea. Diet sweetener, if you have it. Milk, if you have that.”

“I do not. Cream?”

Cassie shook her head, and the tinny voice near the dome light remarked, “She can’t see you.”

Cassie nodded. “But you can. What’s your name, computer lady?”

“Your servant is Com Pu Ter.”

“Got it. Just sweetener in my tea, please. No cream.”

An instrument vanished and her cup appeared, extended by a simple gripper. It was very good, and almost too hot to drink.

“Com Pu Ter? I want to ask about the windows. How do I put them down?”

The tinny voice giggled. “Bad windows! You’re dirty! You’re scratched!”

The computer asked, “Manuarry, automaticarry, or orarry?”

“The easiest way.” Gideon’s caramel coupe had appeared in Cassie’s rearview mirror.

“Ask me to.”

“Then put down the one nearest me. Would that be Window A?” Pushing hard on the accelerator, she beat the next traffic light, crossing the intersection on amber.

“Yes.” The window at her elbow slid down swiftly and silently.

“Thanks, Com Pu Ter. There are voices in here — ”

The tinny one near the dome light giggled.

“Three, anyway. Maybe more. Can you tell me who they are?”

“Your servant is Com Pu Ter, a Revel One artificiar interrigence, a product of Yokosuka Bell Raboratories. The rest I do not hear.”

“You can say ‘Bell.’”

“Arso many more things.”

“One of you others say something. I want Com Pu Ter to hear you.”

The tinny voice giggled again, but did not speak.

When she stopped at the next traffic light, the caramel coupe pulled up beside her. Its right front window was already down; through it, Gideon called, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Cassie gave him the thumbs-up sign. “You’re just in time. Lead the way to the rental agency. I’ll follow you.”

He gave her a look that should — were justice ever to prevail on planet Earth — have fried her. His right front window slid up.

WHEN Cassie was settled in the passenger seat of the black hopper and they had pulled out of the rental agency lot, she asked, “You know how to get to my hotel?”

“Certainly.” Gideon paused, apparently to bring himself under control. “I have questions.”

“Fire away. The Amazing Cassiopeia knows all, tells all.”

“Where did you get that tea?”

“Your Japanese lady gave it to me. She makes good tea.”

“I know. You weren’t supposed to turn on the computer. You promised me you wouldn’t.”

“That is not a question, O seeker of wisdom, but the Astonishing Cassiopeia will answer anyway. Just don’t push your luck. You’re right, I promised not to turn on your computer. You’re wrong, I didn’t. I happened to say the word computer, and wham-o! Here she was, and she made tea for me.”

“You merely chanced to say ‘computer’?”

“Bingo. I was chatting with one of those invisible people in your rear seat. They really opened up once you were gone. He — I think it was the man, but it may have been the bug up on the roof. He started talking about your computer. I was talking to him about it, so of course I used the word computer. Alakazam! Here was this Japanese lady — voice only — asking what she could do for me. So I said how ’bout some tea? and she made this for me. Next question?”

“You didn’t warp?”

“Nope. I wouldn’t know how.”

“Or hop?”

“Without warping up first? You know darned well you would have heard me if I had.” Cassie took a final sip from her plastic cup. “Where do I put this?”

“Just drop it on the floor. I’ll get it later.”

“Seems terribly messy. Can’t I drop it in back?” She did. “They’re really quiet back there now.”

“If they are wise, they’ll keep it like that. Am I still going up to your room?”

“Well, I certainly hope so. If Ebony couldn’t make it, I was going to phone Donny Duke. Don’t look at me like that, Gid.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine. Who would you call? Wally, sure, only Wally’s not available. Vince? He’s creepy enough when there are other people around.”

“India, perhaps.”

“Point A. She’d take up three-quarters of the bed. Point B. She and Ebony are splitting a room. Ebony says she snores — which I can easily believe. Point C. Since they’re together in the room she’d know right off that she was second choice.”

“How about Tabbi Merce?”

Cassie shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Let me think... Because of Norma?”

“Yes. Let’s talk about something else.”

“The voices didn’t bother you?”

“They were kind of nice, really. Gave me somebody to talk to.”

“I keep underestimating you.” Gideon sounded a trifle awed.

“I’m glad somebody does. There’s my hotel, on the right and a block and a half.”

“I know. We need to find a public garage where I can park this myself.”

Cassie smiled as she struggled into her wool coat.

When her wake-up call came at eleven, he was gone. There was a note on his pillow:

She smiled as she read it. Now she nodded to herself, still smiling, and got up. When a dressing gown had covered her, she dialed Room Service and ordered chicken nachos with a glass of skim milk.

What was it Gid had said? She had turned off the lights, saying she would not undress with them on, and he had said, “One day after you get to Kololahi, you’ll be wearing a bikini that covers three square inches. And every man who sees you will foam at the mouth.”

She giggled softly and sat down in front of the best mirror to put on makeup.

When she answered the room-service waiter’s knock, she saw that an envelope had been pushed under her door. She picked it up, but scarcely glanced at it until the waiter had gone and her nachos and skimmed milk were on the little round table that had stood beside the desk.

The note on the front of the envelope had been put there by a woman whose handwriting was clearer than her own.

Cassie opened the envelope with a nail file.