“Ooh,” Janet said, “what about Pete Somebody, remember? That funny visiting fellow in Economics, I think it was, the one who didn’t show up for class half the time, and then finally disappeared altogether and—”
“Uh, Janet.” Eric put his hand on her arm. He made, Gideon thought, a faint motion in his direction. Janet looked confused for a moment, then closed her mouth.
“Look,” Gideon said, “what is it with this visiting fellow? What happened to him?”
After an uncomfortable silence, Danzig spoke carefully. “Really, perhaps we shouldn’t be frightening off our new fellow with horror stories from the remote past.”
“Horror stories?” said Gideon.
“Figuratively speaking,” said Danzig, composing a prim smile. “Just your typical war stories. You’ll be telling them yourself a few months from now.”
Janet and Eric studied their glasses. Bruce added, “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Gideon.” He made the statement word by separate word, slowly, as if it were loaded with significance. But then, thought Gideon, that’s the way he tells you the time.
He began to ask another question, but changed his mind. If they wanted to play at being coy or whatever they were doing, the hell with them. He was going home. To the hotel, that is. Gideon shoved his chair back from the table and stood up, ready to leave. His high spirits were suddenly gone, the good-old-boy stories did not entertain him, and his half-hatched plans for Janet were somehow no longer of interest. Jet lag had finally hit him; if he didn’t get to his bed at the Hotel Ballman very shortly, he’d curl up and go to sleep on the floor of the Weinstube.
He turned from the table without saying good night, catching what he thought was a brief, silent glance between the three of them, and made his way towards the door. Others were milling about, getting ready to leave, and he caught sight of Dr. Rufus self-consciously circulating about, bearlike and jolly, thumping shoulders and shaking hands. When he saw Gideon, he smiled briefly—a twitch of the lips was more like it—and rather suddenly engaged himself in deep conversation with an older man and woman, both senior faculty members.
Gideon waited quietly. There were things that were bothering him, and he was going to buttonhole Dr. Rufus whether the chancellor liked it or not. When the older couple had made their good-byes, Dr. Rufus turned innocently in the direction opposite to Gideon and moved quickly toward another clump of people. Gideon called to him.
The chancellor turned, registering surprise. “Ah, the estimable Professor Oliver! I hope you had a pleasant evening.”
“Yes, I did, thanks, but there are a few things I’d like to ask you.”
“You bet; certainly. Ask away.” He beamed at Gideon, blue eyes twinkling, rosy cheeks shining.
“Well, that schedule of mine. Is that right? I was expecting to go to Munich, Kaiserslautern—”
“Oh my, didn’t you get my letter? No? It was a sudden change indeed. Had to change quite a few schedules. When did you leave the U.S.?”
“Tuesday.”
“Ah, yes. I believe it was mailed—they were mailed—letters to people whose schedules we changed… uh…” He mopped his glistening pink face with a handkerchief. “Mmm, uh, last Friday. Probably passed you going the other way. No inconvenience, I hope?”
“No, not at all. It’s rather exciting. It’s just a surprise.”
“Well, I’m sorry if this has caught you off guard. Happens all the time in this business. Military exercise or an alert, and we just have to change our schedules. Fortunes of war. Here to serve. Well, my boy, good night—”
“Dr. Rufus, what happened to the last visiting fellow?”
The dank handkerchief dabbed once more. “Ah, yes. Dr. Dee. Well. Hmm. That was unfortunate. Yes. Didn’t I tell you about it? No?”
Gideon restrained himself. “No,” he said.
“Mm. Well, he, uh, died in an automobile accident. Quite sad. Just drove off the side of a mountain. On the Autostrada del Sole in Italy. Near Cosenza, I think. Right off the side of the mountain. Apparently just a case of driving too fast. He’d almost been killed in another car accident a few weeks before. Somewhat odd behavior for a psychologist, really.”
There was something wrong with the story, but Gideon was too tired to work it out. Dr. Rufus patted him on the shoulder. “Well, no need for you to worry yourself about it. Get yourself a good night’s sleep; you’re looking a little worn out, and no wonder…”He began to move off.
“Wait!” called Gideon. “I thought—wasn’t he an economist? And I thought he
“Oh my, no.” Dr. Rufus wiped his face again. “You’re thinking of the fellow
“You’re telling me that, of the last two visiting fellows, one was killed and one just… just disappeared?” Gideon’s voice, husky with fatigue, rose to an embarrassing squeak on the last word. “And what happened to the ones before that? Does this sort of thing happen all the time around here? Or just to visiting fellows?”
The chancellor smiled softly and shrugged. Before he could answer, Gideon went on. “Is that why the visiting fellow program was cancelled for a semester?”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact. To have two such unfortunate occurrences, one after the other… well, the program was getting a bad name.” He chuckled weakly, frowned, converted the chuckle to a discreet cough, and went over the back of his neck with his handkerchief. “Gideon, you know you haven’t slept for almost three nights, and you’re obviously exhausted. Get yourself a good night’s sleep. Things won’t seem so, er, frightening in the morning.”
“I’m not frightened, Dr. Rufus, but I am a little… troubled. I wish you’d told me about this before.”
“Well, I wanted you to take the position, you know. Didn’t want to scare you off. Besides, would you have turned down the chance to teach over here if I
