Those Who Watch

“You look fine, Glair,” said Vorneen.

“So do you. Obviously you’ve had good care.”

“The best.” He glanced at Kathryn. “I’ve had wonderful care.”

Glair said, “That’s good to hear. Vorneen, will you go into the other room? I want to talk to Kathryn for a few minutes. Then I’ll let the two of you be alone a while. For as long as you like. I’m not going to rush you. I’ve just been through the same thing myself.”

Vorneen nodded. Without a word, he turned and went back into the bedroom, closing the door.

Glair regarded Kathryn steadily. “Do you hate me very much?” Glair asked.

Kathryn’s lips trembled. “Hate you? Why should I hate you?”

“I’m going to take Vorneen away from you.”

“He belongs with his people,” said Kathryn. “I’ve got no claim on him.”

“Except the claim of love.”

“How do you know I love him?”

Glair smiled. “I have certain gifts, Kathryn. I can see how you feel. I see that he loves you, too.” Awkwardly she sat down and put her canes aside; then she reached her hands toward Kathryn’s and took them. Glair’s skin did not feel cool against hers, Kathryn noticed. Which must mean that my own skin is very cool right now. Glair said gently, “Aside from what I can see, Kathryn, I have other ways of knowing. 1 told you, I’ve been through the same thing myself. A man took me in. I lived with him. I — loved him, if it’s possible for one of us to love one of you, and I think it is. And then my people came, and said they had found me, it was time for me to go. So I know how it is.”

Kathryn felt as though her brain were swathed in layers of thick wool. She was scarcely reacting at all. This had happened so swiftly that the severing of her link to Vorneen had not yet become real to her.

She said, “Vorneen and I were very happy together. But he — he’s yours, isn’t he? You’re his mate?”

“One of his mates. There are two of us. Did he explain that to you?”

“A little. Not too clearly.”

“I want him back,” Glair said. “You can understand that. You know that, because you know him. Will you forgive me for taking him away?”

Kathryn shrugged. “It’s going to hurt. As soon as I — as I realize that it’s happening. Will he go tonight?”

“It’s best that way.”

“How soon?”

“A few hours from now is soon enough. There’s time for a fond farewell. Then a clean break, Kathryn. He doesn’t belong on this world. He can’t ever return. Did he tell you about the covenants?”

“Yes.”

“You see the situation, then.”

“I see it. But I don’t want to see it. I tried to believe he’d always stay with me. I wanted to go on taking care of him, loving him, holding him.”

“You like to take care of people?” Glair asked.

Kathryn smiled. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Would you take care of someone else, then? For me? There’s a man in Albuquerque — the man who cared for me. He’s alone now. He needs someone warm, someone to help him. I’ve told him a little about you. In a day or two, Kathryn, go to see him. Talk to him. You and he have so much in common.”

“That’s all you want me to do? Talk to him?”

“I can’t ask more than that,” said Glair. “Try to make him happy, though. And perhaps you’ll make yourself happy by making him happy. Or perhaps not. Who can predict these things? See him anyway. Will you?”

“All right,” Kathryn said. “Yes.”

“Here’s his name, his address.”

She handed Kathryn a card. Kathryn glanced at it and put it down. Tom Falkner — the name meant nothing to her. They would meet, anyway. And talk.

Glair was trying to rise, without using her canes. Kathryn saw the tension in her face, and went to her, taking the blond girl’s elbows, lifting her gently to her feet. Glair, still cane-less, swayed a little, seemingly planting herself. Her arms went out and about Kathryn, and they embraced. Kathryn closed her eyes and thought of the strange alien thing within this girl’s soft flesh.

Glair said, “I want to … thank you, Kathryn. For caring for him. For keeping him. I can’t say anything more than that. Just my thanks.”

“I guess I’m grateful too. For having had him with me even this short time.”

Glair released her. “I’ll go in and talk to him now. Then I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

She took up her canes again and moved with care into the bedroom. She did not close the door after her. When they spoke, they spoke in English, and Kathryn realized that she was meant to hear what she was hearing now.

Glair said, “You were very lucky, Vorneen. You were found by exactly the right person.”

“Yes. I was.”

“You don’t want to leave her now?”

“I’ve grown fond of her, Glair. More than I can easily put into words now. But I can’t stay, can I?”

“No.”

“The covenants—”

“The covenants, yes.”

“How did you find me?”

“That doesn’t matter much now. Sartak found you, actually. And found me. I’ll tell you the whole story later. Are you all right, Vorneen?”

“A little battered around the edges. Nothing serious. You?”

“The same. Where’s your suit?”

“Hidden.”

“Don’t forget it when you leave. Take everything you landed with.”

“Naturally.”

“And try to explain to her that this is — necessary. That it’s impossible for you to stay here any longer. That watchers shouldn’t get too close to the watched. The whole lousy business, Vorneen. I’ve just been through it with Tom. With the man who sheltered me.”

“It hurt you to leave him, didn’t it, Glair?”

“You know it did. But I left him. And you’ll leave Kathryn. And the pain will stop after a while.”

“For us or for them?”

“For all of us,” said Glair. “I’ll see you later. Turn the porch light on when you’re ready to leave. Our car’s parked down the street. You don’t need to hurry.”

Glair emerged from the bedroom. Kathryn stood frozen by the door. The fact of her loss was seeping in now. Kathryn tried to tell herself that she had not lost anything, because Vorneen had never been hers at all. A guest. A visitor. What had existed between them had been a moment’s warmth, butterfly love dying at winter’s first blast.

Glair embraced her again. She began to say something, and choked the words off before they passed her lips. Kathryn fought back the tears.

“I won’t keep him very long,” Kathryn murmured.

She opened the door for Glair and let the Dirnan woman out. Then she turned and went into the bedroom. Vorneen was standing by the window. Without an awareness of motion, Kathryn found herself beside him. Their bodies moved together.

They had so much to say to one another … and so little time in which to say it.

Twenty-One

Tom Falkner said, “Be it ever so humble, et cetera. Will you come in for a while?”

“Of course,” Kathryn told him.

He opened the door and switched on the light. They had been driving around Albuquerque all afternoon. She had left her little girl with a neighbor, she said, and kept repeating that she really ought to get home and prepare di

He looked at her closely for what seemed the first time. In the car, with her beside him, he had not been able to see her properly. Now he stared without hesitation. She was tall and slim, past her first youth but much younger than he was, and of the kind of physique that he suspected would not begin to show any signs of aging for fifteen or twenty more years. She could not be called pretty, with those blade-like cheekbones and those thin lips and the too-wide mouth, but no one would find her unattractive. Right now her eyes were bordered by dark crescents. She had not slept much lately, it would seem. Neither had he. Neither had he.

He said, “Of course, we can’t tell a soul about what we experienced.”