“I don't think you should quit your day job.”
“What I'd like to know is, what would a discovery like that be worth?”
“You'd become famous,” I said. “You'd be a guest on all the talk shows. You'd get a huge book contract.”
“What about the ship itself? Would I be able to sell it?”
“I'm sure you could. I don't really know anything about alien vehicles.”
“All right. Thank you. Will you handle it for me?”
“Sure,” I said. “We'll help where we can.”
“Good. Thank you.” She smiled, and for the first time in a discussion that should have been emotional, I saw a trace of something. Hope, maybe. Exhilaration. I don't know. “I'll be back in a few months to let you know how it turns out.”
We didn't see her again.
There were a couple of other problems, though nothing quite like Miranda and the guy who wanted to sue us. I was glad to see the day come to an end. I was getting ready to go home when Emile Zuckerman arrived. Zuckerman was a client who collected Ashiyyurean art. He was also a physicist of considerable repute, having made contributions in chaos analysis that, simply put, were too complicated for any normal human to have the slightest idea what he was talking about. Or at least they were too far out for me. Unfortunately, he couldn't have given instructions on how to get a glass out of a cabinet without causing confusion. But I always played along when he called, nodding periodically as if I understood why causality broke down near black holes or why he needed a second artifact from the home of Ajax Bittman.
He was a little guy with a narrow build. He always managed to make me feel as if I shouldn't be let out by myself. His teeth were always visible, leaving the impression that he was looking for something to eat. He had a white beard and dark brown eyes that could not suppress a mischievous glint. I've always suspected he knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed baffling the people around him. On this occasion, he spent a minute or two telling me how good I looked. Then he asked if Alex was available.
“He's traveling, Zuck,” I said. “Can I be of assistance?”
“Would it be possible to reach him?”
“It's not easy. What's it about?”
The lips exposed even more of his teeth. “I'd really like to talk with him, Chase. Please.”
Normally, I wouldn't have considered breaking into whatever Alex might be doing to put him on with Zuck. But I was looking at an unusual degree of intensity that afternoon. “Let me see what I can do,” I said.
I got him a drink and seated him in the conference room while Jacob put the call through. It went audio only. When Alex answered, I was back in my office. I could hear music and voices in the background and the clink of silverware.
“Zuck wants to speak to you, Alex,” I said. “It might be worth your time.”
“You don't know what it's about?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“I'm sorry.”
“Next time tell him I'm attending a funeral. Where is he now? In back?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Have Jacob switch me over, but stay with the call.”
“Why?”
“You know how he is. If he gets talking, find a reason to break in. Manufacture an emergency or something.”
I took a deep breath, got myself something to read, and switched in. They traded greetings. “I hope,” Zuck said, “I'm not interrupting anything.”
“No, no,” Alex said pleasantly. “I've finished most of what I had to do.”
“Good. I'm sorry to bother you.”
“It's okay. What do you need?”
“I won't take much of your time, Alex. But I was reading how you'd gotten interested in Christopher Robin.”
“More or less. Why? Did you know him?”
“No. I met him a couple of times, but I can't say I actually knew him. But I knew somebody who did.”
“Really? Who's that?”
“Cara. Cara Bosworth.”
“And she was-?”
“Robin's mentor at the University of Margala. She was a good woman, Alex. Brilliant. We lost her about twenty years ago. Margala's physics prize is named in her honor.”
“I'm sorry to hear it. Did she have any idea what happened to him?”
“She had a theory. And she was probably right.”
“What was the theory?”
“That he just got home that night, decided he'd had enough, and jumped into the ocean.”
“Enough of what?”
“Well, all these years I've never repeated any of this-”
“Just say it, Zuck.”
“Cara was pretty sure Elizabeth was screwing around, and it became too much for him so he killed himself.”
“Screwing around with whom?”
“I don't know. I don't think she knew. But Cara picked it up from Robin. Never directly. I mean, she told me he never said anything-”
“Then how did she know?”
“Body language. The way he reacted whenever Cara mentioned her name. 'Tell Elizabeth I said hello,' and he'd clamp down and get a hard look. She didn't think there was any question about it.”
“Zuck, they never found the body.”
“The tides out there are pretty strong. If he jumped in when the tide was going out-”
“He took his luggage with him.”
“All right, Alex. I don't know about the luggage. Maybe somebody came along and made off with it. Maybe he was so much out of his mind that he threw it into the ocean. Look, it's not exactly an orderly world. Crazy stuff happens.”
“Okay, Zuck. Thanks for the information.”
“Anyhow, Alex, what I wanted to say: This is about an eccentric guy, maybe deranged. There was talk about walking through dimensions, crossing over to other universes, tracking down aliens. All this fantasy stuff. Your involvement has been pretty public. Look, we go way back, you and I. You've made some major contributions over the years, and you've been a good friend. I know there are people out there who're always sniping at you. They're jealous. I never see any of those people who don't wish they'd done what you have.”
He went on like that for several minutes, and I knew that Alex wanted me to stage the emergency and bring the conversation to a close. But Zuck kept sounding as if he was about to say good night. And he was saying things I thought Alex needed to hear. So I hesitated. He talked about the respect that people had for him, and how important a reputation is for someone in his business, how critical it was for his clients to know they could trust him. “Not that I'd ever lose faith in you, Alex. You know that.”
“I know, Zuck.”
After another minute or two, he finally came to the point: “You still have time to back off, Alex. Do it. Don't get in any deeper than you are. You know what I'm saying? “
“Yes, Zuck. Thanks.”
“Just let it go. Okay?”
“Zuck, I appreciate the call.”
“It's okay. And you're not upset with me, right?”
“Upset with you, Zuck? Never happen.”
