A Night in the Lonesome October (27 page)

    
Suddenly, I decided to take a hint and enter the stream myself.
 
Upstream was downwind, so I headed that way, which is what the fox had probably done, too, when she'd realized what I was just then realizing, about being followed.

    
My tracker was pretty clumsy, though, and it was not difficult to make my way back, staying downwind and keeping to cover, and to surprise him there at the stream's edge.

    
He was big, bigger than me, wolf-sized.

    
"Larry?" I called.
 
"I've been looking for you."

    
"Yes?" came the reply.

    
"You're not Larry," I said.

    
"No."

    
"Why were you following me?"

    
"I just wandered by a few days ago, and I was thinking of spending the winter in this wood.
 
This is a very strange place, though.
 
The people in the area do peculiar things, often to each other.
 
I followed you when I saw you, to ask how safe it might be for me."

    
"Some of them are getting ready for something that will be happening at the end of the month," I said.
 
"Lie low till it's past and you'll probably be all right for the winter, if you exercise a little discretion when you take a sheep or a pig.
 
Don't leave carcasses in plain sight, I mean."

    
"What's going on at the end of the month?"

    
"Weird stuff," I said.
 
"A little specialized craziness.
 
Stay away from any human gatherings that night."

    
"Why?"

    
About then, a little moonlight reached us through the branches.

    
"Because it might get you killed, or worse."

    
"I don't understand."

    
"You don't have to," I said, and I turned and got out.

    
"Snuff!
 
Wait!
 
Come back!" he called.

    
But I just kept going.
 
He tried to follow me, but Growler'd shown me stuff that even the fox would have been proud of.
 
I lost him easily.

    
In the moonlight I'd recognized him from his likeness in the ward-screen as one of the prowlers who'd been snooping around while we were in London.
 
Maybe he'd just been checking things out, as he'd said.
 
But put that together with his knowing my name when I hadn't given it to him, and I didn't like it a bit.

    
Overhead, growing in strength, the older, wiser moon paced me.
 
I'd give her a run for her silver.

    
I was awakened by a scratching on the back door.
 
I went to it and pushed my hatch open.
 
Graymalk was sitting before it, waiting.
 
It occurred to me that I can't tell when she's smiling either.

    
I checked the sky, which was cloudy with blue breaks.

    
"Good morning," I said then.

    
"'Morning, Snuff.
 
Did I wake you?"

    
I stepped outside and stretched.

    
"Yes," I said.
 
"But I was oversleeping.
 
Thanks."

    
"How are your aches and pains?"

  
  
"Much improved.
 
Your own?"

    
"Better."

    
"Yesterday was pretty quiet," I said, "for a change."

    
"But last night was a different matter," she said.

    
"Oh?
 
What do you mean?"

    
"Then you haven't heard about the fire?"

    
"Fire?
 
No.
 
Where?
 
What happened?"

    
"The Good Doctor got burned out.
 
It's still smoldering.
 
I took a walk very early this morning and I smelled it.
 
Went over and watched for a long time.
 
His storm finally stopped when the place caved in."

    
"Is he all right?
 
And the other fellows?
 
Did they get out?"

    
"I don't know.
 
I'm not sure they did, though.
 
I didn't see them."

    
"Maybe I ought to sniff around a bit," I said.

    
"Might be a good idea."

    
We headed off in that direction.

    
It was odd, coming on the place without a storm raging overhead.
 
The house was blackened and still smoky, its roof and three walls fallen, the ground dark with ashes, debris, and the singeing effects of the heat, about it.
 
Off to the west, to our right, as we approached, the barn stood unscathed.
 
The ground everywhere near us was wet to the point of squishiness from the deluge that had descended upon it in past weeks.

    
We circled the burnt place slowly, peering into it.
 
Past charred beams and fragmented walls, I could make out banks of broken equipment far below.
 
The smell from the fire and the dampness of the earth made it impossible for me to detect any useful scents in the vicinity.
 
I told Graymalk this, and she said, "Then you can't tell whether the Good Doctor and his assistants escaped or perished?"

    
"Afraid not," I answered.

    
We went off to take a look at the bam.
 
As we departed the ravaged area and neared that structure,

    
I did pick up a fresh scent.
 
Very fresh.
 
Just ahead, in fact.
 
I broke into a run.

    
"What is it?" Graymalk asked.

    
There was no time to respond to her.
 
I'd glimpsed him rounding the corner of the building, and I raced that way.
 
He saw me coming, realized that I could move a lot faster than he could, and dashed inside one of a number of wooden crates strewn there.
 
I approached the crate and stuck my head inside, fangs bared.

    
Bubo crouched in its farthest recess.

    
"Remember what they say about cornered rats," he said.
 
"We can be nasty."

    
"I'm sure," I replied.
 
"But what'd be the point?
 
No one wants to hurt you."

    
"You were chasing me."

    
"I wanted to talk to you."

    
"So you brought along a cat."

    
"I can let you talk to her if you don't want to talk to me."

    
I started to withdraw.

  
  
"No!
 
Wait!
 
I'd rather talk to you!"

    
"All right," I said.
 
"I just wanted to know what happened here."

    
"There was a fire."

    
"I can see that.
 
How'd it get started?"

    
"The experiment man got mad at the Good Doctor and started wrecking the lab.
 
Sparks from some of the equipment set the place burning."

    
"'The experiment man'?"

    
"You know.
 
The big fellow the Good Doctor put together from all the parts his assistant dug up for him."

    
I recalled the smell of death and I began to understand.

    
"What happened then?" I asked.

    
"The experiment man ran out and hid in the barn here, as he always did after an argument.
 
I got out, too.
 
The place burned down."

    
"Did the Good Doctor and his assistant get out in time?"

    
"I don't know.
 
When I went back and looked later there was no way I could tell."

    
"What about the experiment man?
 
Is he still in the barn?"

    
"No.
 
He ran away later.
 
I don't know where he is."

    
I backed up.
 
"I'm sorry," I said, and I withdrew my head from the crate.

    
Graymalk immediately moved near and asked, "Was the Good Doctor an opener or a closer?"

    
"Please," he said, "let me be.
 
I'm just a simple pack rat.
 
Snuff!
 
Don't let her have me!"

    
"I've already eaten," she said.
 
"Besides, I owe you courtesy as a fellow player."

    
"No you don't," he said.
 
"It's over.
 
Over."

    
"Just because your master is dead doesn't mean I should treat you as anything other than a player."

    
"But you know.
 
You must know.
 
You're toying with me.
 
Cats are that way.
 
I'm not a player.
 
I never was.
 
Have you really eaten recently?"

    
"Yes."

    
"That's worse then.
 
You'll toy more."

    
"Shut up a minute!" she said.

    
"See?
 
There goes the courtesy."

    
"Be still.
 
I _am_ starting to get angry.
 
What do you mean you were never a player?"

    
"Just that.
 
I saw a good thing and I decided to jump aboard."

    
"You'd better explain."

    
"I told you I was just a pack rat.
 
I used to hear all you folks talking, Nightwind, Quicklime, Cheeter, you and Snuff, as I lurked about my business.
 
I got the idea pretty quick that there was some sort of strange Game going on, and you were all players.
 
You all had it pretty good and you all left each other alone, even helped each other sometimes.
 
So I decided to learn as much about your Game as I could and figure out how I could pass for one of you.
 
I realized pretty quickly that you all had pretty weird masters and mistresses.
 
Then I knew that I could do it.
 
After all, I'd been hanging around the Good Doctor's place already, for the leftovers from his work.
 
So I let on that he was in the Game and that I worked for him.
 
Sure enough, I got respect and decent treatment from the rest of you.
 
It made life a lot easier.
 
What a tragedy, the fire.
 
It'll be rough spending winter in the barn.
 
But rats are adaptable.
 
We...”

    
"Be still," she said again, and he obeyed.
 
"Snuff, do you realize what this means?"

    
"Yes," I said.
 
"There was no secret player.
 
What it was, was that I had one player too many in my calculations.
 
The Good Doctor must just have come here seeking a little privacy for his work."

    
". . . And that explains why the divinations concerning him were always ambiguous."

    
"Of course.
 
I'll have to do some new figuring, soon.
 
Thank you, Bubo.
 
You've just helped me quite a bit."

    
Graymalk moved away from the crate and Bubo peered out.

    
"You mean I can go?" he said.

    
I was feeling generous, happy even, at the final piece for my puzzle.
 
And he looked kind of pathetic.

    
"Or you can come with us, if you like," I said.
 
"You don't have to live in the barn.
 
You can stay at my place.
 
It's warm and there's plenty to eat."