Ann heard him give a long sigh. 'Honest to God, I don't know what she means. She implied the same thing to me today. Ann, I never even saw her last night.' She didn't speak. 'Ann, listen to me – I've waited for you for so many years, do you think I'd destroy it all by seducing your daughter? Even if I wanted to, which I don't. You know there'd be no way to keep it a secret. I would never be that stupid.' He paused for a moment, then spoke more quietly, tenderly. 'And I would never do that to you. Believe me. Please.'
'I do,' she said, and it was the truth. 'I do believe you, Dennis. But Terri…' She was near tears. 'What shall I do about Terri?'
'I don't know, Ann. I really don't. What if we both sat down and talked to her? Got everything out in the open, told her about the way we feel toward each other, what our plans were.'
'No, Dennis, no. You don't know Terri. She's not ready to hear that. And I don't think she's ready to deny what she said.' It was an excuse. The simple truth was that Ann was not up to another scene with Terri, not yet, particularly not with Dennis present. 'Let's just give it some time.'
'All right then. Whatever you think best. As long as you know the truth. And the truth is that I love you, and would never do anything to hurt you. Or Terri.'
'I know that.'
'Will I see you tomorrow?'
'Yes. I'll be there.' There seemed nothing more to say. 'Goodnight, Dennis.”
“Goodnight.'
(DENNIS hangs up the phone and sits quietly for a moment. He sighs deeply, stands, and turns to see THE EMPEROR, dressed exactly as DENNIS is, standing stage left by the entrance to the hallway.)
THE EMPEROR
I'm afraid I've caused quite a little contretemps.
DENNIS
Jesus… you're here.
THE EMPEROR
And where should I be, if not near my creator? I owe you a slight apology. I'm afraid that I embarrassed you with the ladies.
DENNIS
Last night… with Terri. It was you.
THE EMPEROR
It was. Her loveliness quite overcame my better judgment.
DENNIS
But how could you… (He pauses, uncertain how to put it.)
THE EMPEROR
Seduce her, being intangible? I seduced her with words alone, my dear friend. No matter how desirous I might have been to possess her sweet young body… (He places his hand into the wall.)… it would have been quite impossible to do so. Much to my regret, I might add. So I was only able to make love to her with my tongue.
DENNIS
You can't… you mustn't do that. They think it's me.
THE EMPEROR
My apologies. But can you not understand? Is seducing this lovely creature not exactly what you would have done some years ago? You have always had an eye for beauty, no matter how cleverly disguised behind a mask of acrimony. And am I not, after all, my creator's child?
DENNIS
I… I told my friend about you – Sid.
THE EMPEROR
It is good to have a friend, a confidant, someone to whom you can entrust the secrets of your heart. You would be a lesser man without Sid, would you not? A weaker one.
DENNIS
Yes… I guess I would.
THE EMPEROR
One little knows how much one depends on others until they are gone. We draw strength from those we love, and from those who love us. That, I suppose, is one reason that I sought to establish a bond with Terri, to have someone true, someone loyal.
DENNIS
I can do that. I… created you. So I can be a friend to you. You don't have to… to go to anyone else.
THE EMPEROR
Ah, but one subject is scarcely enough for an emperor…
He was gone in an instant. There were no words of farewell this time. Instead he simply was no longer there. Only his words echoed in the air. One subject is scarcely enough for an emperor.
What did he mean? Dennis wondered. The implications were more frightening now than ever. What had he said to Terri? What had he done – or tried to do? And was it not, the creature had asked him, what he himself would have done some years before?
It was. Dennis had to be honest with himself. If a young and attractive girl like Terri had aroused him, and there was no Ann to complicate matters, he might have done exactly as the Emperor had – gone to her at night and seduced her.
But that had been years ago. He had not felt any urge to perpetrate such seductions for a long time. It seemed as though those particular emotions were simply not a part of him any more. But they were certainly, he realized an instant later, part of the Emperor.
The thought gave him pause, and he began to think about the other changes in his personality that had occurred over the past few months and years. He had heard people remark that he seemed more thoughtful and considerate, but he had attributed this to Robin's influence and to aging. But what, he thought, if it was due to something else?
What if it was due to his creation of the Emperor? What if this histrion, as it termed itself, had drawn from him those very emotions with which he had created it on stage and created the legend of Dennis Hamilton in his life – imperiousness, superiority, pride, a quick temper, and, yes, ruthlessness? He breathed a prayer of thanks that such a creation was incapable of interfering physically in his world.
And then another thought possessed him. If his theory was true, should he not, instead of fearing what he had made, be grateful to it? Might it not have, after all, drained him of his emotional poisons, making him truly a kinder and better person?
Dennis didn't know. He was certain of only one thing – that he had somehow created this creature, but whether he was cast in the role of Frankenstein or God he could not tell.
He remembered then what the thing had said about Sid, and knew that he had to talk to him about this immediately. The need for the presence of another human being – real, not ethereal – became the most important thing in the world to Dennis Hamilton, and, instead of calling Sid, he decided to go to his suite. Sid would know what to do. What the Emperor had said was true in one regard – he would indeed be a lesser man without Sid.
Sid Harper had knocked off early that night. He had driven Mack Redcay to the airport, served Dennis dinner, and was now lying in bed with Donna Franklin.
It was the first time they had made love in many weeks, weeks that had been filled with the activity of Robin's death and funeral, with everyone working at a feverish pace to try and banish the memories of tragedy, with Sid's departure to New York with Dennis and John, with work and worry and depression. Finally, when Sid had returned from the city, Donna had started her period. Her fastidious outward manner extended into her sex life only in one regard, and that was an absolute refusal to sleep with Sid when she was anything less than pristine. He had long accepted this condition, just as she had accepted the fact that Sid might be called from her side at any minute at the whim of Dennis Hamilton.
They had been interrupted during sex before, but the events of the past few months had made Donna even
