Fellowship of Fear

A car zoomed out of the night, passed them, and disappeared in seconds, going at least a hundred miles an hour. “God, these German drivers,” John said.

“I still don’t get it,” Marti said.

“I had the Weidenreich with me for the course in Torrejon. My next class, in Izmir, deals with Upper Paleolithic population distributions, so naturally I wouldn’t be expected to be reading a book on Homo erectus javanensis.”

“Naturally,” John said. “Any fool could see that. I’m surprised at you, Marti.”

“Rat piddle,” she said. “How could they be sure you wouldn’t want to read it anyway?”

“Obviously, they couldn’t,” Janet said. “In fact, that’s just what happened this time. You kept the book, and they came after it.”

“Boy, did they,” Gideon said with a sigh. He was very tired. The agent had made him wait, alone, until Delvaux had arrived by helicopter about 9:00 P.M. Three hours of questions and putting the pieces together had followed. Then, at midnight, Gideon had been offered a ride back to Heidelberg in the helicopter with Delvaux. He had declined, unable to face the prospect of having Dr. Rufus as a handcuffed fellow passenger, and had started the drive back with the others at a little before one in the morning. For a while they had talked excitedly, but then their fatigue had caught up with them as they headed south from Frankfurt, and they sat quietly for many minutes at a time.

Once Gideon was awakened from a doze to hear John ask quietly, “Did Delvaux tell you how the NSD guys got here so fast? Were they following you?”

Janet’s hand, lying in his own, jumped; Gideon knew she had been asleep too. “No,” he said, “they didn’t know where to find me. They were following Bruce. Delvaux thought maybe he was their man.”

“Because of the books. Yeah,” John said.

Gideon gently pulled Janet’s head to his shoulder and sat, comfortable and warm, watching the dark flat landscape go by.

A little later it was Janet who stirred and sat up. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Dr. Rufus warned you, remember? And he tried to stop them, and took a pretty good crack in the face. Was that an act?”

“He said he didn’t know there’d be guns, and he was afraid we’d be hurt. I believe him, you know; but I think Delvaux thinks it was just an act.”

Marti spoke quietly: “What’d he do it for, money?”

Gideon nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him in the dark. “Yes,” he said, “so he says.”

At about 2:30 A.M., famished, they stopped at an automated roadside AAFES canteen for sandwiches and milk. Their first bites revived them, and they began talking again.

“Mmm,” Janet said, chewing her egg salad sandwich with such evident pleasure that Gideon, who was already eating a roast beef sandwich, searched his pockets for change to buy one. “Mmm, question,” she said. “If Dr. Rufus went all the way to Sigonella and Torrejon anyway, why didn’t he have these kids bring the information directly to him, or go on base himself and have it delivered to him there? Why involve a middle man?”

John answered for Gideon. “Too much risk. The kids were amateurs. They’d be nervous, and an alert guard could tell something was wrong.” He bit off a huge corner of his pastrami sandwich and chewed happily for a while until he could speak again. “And as for Rufus taking it off the base himself—Gideon noted the dropping of the honorific title; one more indignity Dr. Rufus would have to get used to—”why take the risk when ol‘ Gid could take it for him? There was always a chance the stuff would be found by a guard, after all.“

“Does anyone have a quarter?” Gideon asked. Janet gave him one, and he went to the machine for an egg salad sandwich. He pulled unsuccessfully on the plastic wrapper, then tore at it with his teeth. A memory came suddenly to his mind, and he sat thoughtfully with the plastic wrapping in his mouth.

“Want some mustard to go with that?” Janet said. “Brings out the flavor.”

He removed the wrapping. “I was just thinking about how Dr. Rufus snowed me. When I went in to see him and he calmly . .and damn cleverly… sat there while I talked him into letting me take the Torrej6n assignment. And all the time I was playing right smack into his hands.”

They ate and drank quietly for a while. John finished his sandwich and milk, and brought coffee for them all. He sat down with a great sigh and looked straight at Gideon.

“Okay, Doc, lay it on me. I guess I can stand it now.”

Gideon looked blankly at him.

“Marti,” said John, “you ask him. I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Yowzah, Massa John,” Marti said. “We’re all dying to know how you did it.”

“Did what?” Gideon said.

“How you knew it was Dr. Rufus, you turkey!” Janet said.

Gideon laughed. “Oh no, you don’t. Every time I try to tell John about the marvels of modern scientific inference, he argues with me.”

“No,” John said, “I’ve learned my lesson, Doc. I promise I won’t say a thing.”

Gideon had looked forward to this scene. He took his time, adding a little powdered cream to his coffee, tasting it, and then carefully stirring in a little more.

“I’ll give him ten more seconds. Then I hit him,” Janet said.

“I’ll tell you, but you’re not going to believe me,” Gideon said, looking at John.

“I knew it, I knew it,” said John, “I’m already sorry I asked.”