skin, supple frame spoke of youth, but more than the leanness of the countenance suggested a man who had seen many years and much of the world. Hie signs were too subtle for her to name, nonetheless real. “Indeed? I thought you wanted an interview for your magazine.”
His anile was somehow feline. “That isn’t exactly what my note asked for, though it did give that impression, didn’t it?”
Wariness laid hold of her. “What do you want, then? I must confess I’m not familiar with your, m-m, Chart Room.”
“It’s not a big publication. Nor sensationalistic, may I add. Mostly it runs articles, or essays, on current events. We often go into history or anthropology, trying to put things in perspective.”
“It sounds interesting.” Macandal drew breath. “However, I’m afraid I must decline an interview or anything like that. I don’t want publicity. It’s distasteful to me personally, and it might harm the Unity.”
“Really? I should think if the work you people are doing—evidently in many ways a unique approach—if it became widely known, you’d get more support, cooperation, everything you need. Others might be inspired to imitate you.”
“I doubt they could, successfully. We are unique. One of the tilings that makes it possible for us to do what we do is precisely our smallness, our intimacy. Being stared at could destroy that.”
Tannahili’s large, half oblique eyes sought hers and held steady. “I suspect it’s less important than you yourself, my lady,” he said in almost an undertone. “And your associate, Ms. Donau.”
Alarm stabbed. Macandal drew herself up and raised her voice a bit. “What are you after? Will you please come to the point?”
“My apologies. No offense intended. On the contrary. But I do believe we should talk in complete privacy.”
She came to decision. “Very well. Wait a minute and I’ll issue instructions about that.”
Stepping into the hall, she found a maid and whispered, “The gentleman and I will be in the sanctum. Tell Boyd and Jerry to stand by, and come in at once if I ring.”
The girl gaped. “You ‘spec’ trouble, ma’am?”
“Not really,” Macandal reassured her. “But just hi case.” You didn’t keep going immortally by omitting precautions.
She returned and led Tannahill in among the things that stood for power. He seemed to scan them thoroughly in the moment mat it took her to shut the door. “Now do sit down,” she told him, more curtly than she had intended.
He obeyed. She took a chair across the coffee table. “I’d appreciate your explaining your errand as quickly as possible,” she said.
He couldn’t quite hide the tension that was also in him. “Forgive me if I don’t,” he answered. “What I’m here about is tremendous. I have to be sure of you before I dare let you in on it. Let me start by promising you there will be no threats, demands, attempts to make you do anything wrong. I belong to an unusual class of people. I have reason to think you and Ms. Donau do too. If so, we’ll invite you to join us, for purposes of mutual help and companionship.”
Can he be—? Briefly, the dimness of the chamber hazed before her and a roaring was in her ears. Through it she beard:
“I’ll be honest, and hope you won’t get angry. I’ve had a detective agency prepare a report on you two and your organization for me. They did not pry. They simply went around for about a week, chatted with persons who were willing, took a few snapshots, otherwise looked through newspaper files and relevant public records. It was only for purposes of briefing me, so that I could come today prepare-d to talk intelligently and not waste your time.” Tannahill smiled a bit. “You, the individual, remain as enigmatic as ever. I know practically nothing about you except that according to those files and the recollections of two or three aged Unity members, your mother founded this group which you head, and you resemble her. On the other hand, if I’m not mistaken, I have somewhat more information about Rosa Donau.”
Macandal summoned composure. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing, but her mind ran smoothly and every sense was whetted. If this truly was an immortal, need that be a men-, ace, be aught but joy? Of course, if he wasn’t— Yes, she too must tread with care. “Then why haven’t you ap-proached her first?” she asked.
“She might not like that. Can’t you see, I’m trying not to arouse fears.” Tannahill leaned forward, hands on knees. “May I tell you a story? Call it a piece of fiction if you like. Or a parable; you’re obviously well-read.”
She nodded.
“Once upon a time,” he began slowly, “a woman lived in what is now Istanbul. In those days they called it Constantinople, and it was the capital of a great empire. The woman wasn’t born there, but in Syria. She’d had a hard life, knocked around a lot in the world and taken many cruel knocks from it. Yes, she was much older than she appeared. Not as old as her profession, for which she needed that youthful-looking body. She did well in it, though at intervals she had to pull up stakes and relocate under a different name. To her, at last, came a man who was also older than he seemed. He and his partner had wandered far and wide. At present they were traders, on the Russian river route.”
Always he watched her. She couldn’t take it any more. “Stop!” she cried. Drawing breath: “Mr... Tannahill, are you by any chance associated with ... a gentleman named Willock?”
The fingers whitened on his knees. “Yes. That is, I know of him. He may not have heard of me. A longevity research foundation engaged him to find people who carry—the genes for long life. Extremely long life.”
“I see.” Strange how calm she suddenly was, how detached. It was as if somebody else spoke. “Rosa and I saw his advertisement. We found it interesting.”
“But you didn’t respond.”
“No. We have to be careful. The Unity works among, and against, some bad types. We have our enemies, and they have no scruples.”
“So I’ve gathered. I swear to you, uh, Miss Macandal, this group I belong to is decent. In fact, we were alerted to your existence because two among us do human rehabilitation themselves. And we are few. Oh, very few,” he ended.
“Nevertheless, you must give me time to consider this. You’ve learned about us. What do we know about you?”
Tannahill sat silent for the better part of a minute before he nodded. “That’s reasonable. Ask anything you like.”
She lifted her brows. “Do you guarantee to answer every single question, truthfully and in full?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “No. Good for you!” Turning serious: “Not before we fully trust each other. Let me do whatever I can toward that.”
“For the moment, nothing. I want to run an independent check on you. Read a few issues of your magazine. Find out how you live, what your neighbors think of you, that sort of thing. What you did to us. It shouldn’t take long. Then Rosa and I will plan our next move.”
He smiled, visibly easing. “What you’re telling me is, ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you.’ Okay. On my side we have both time and patience. We know how to wait. Nothing will happen till you want it to.”
He reached in a pocket and offered his card to her. “That’s my New Hampshire address. My friend and I—I’m not in town alone—we’ll return there tomorrow. Phone whenever you wish, or write if you prefer. If we go away, I’ll tell the staff how to get in touch with me, and should be able to come back here oh a day’s notice.”
“Thank you.”
He came near winning her over at once by promptly rising and saying, “No, my thanks to you. I look forward to hearing at your convenience.” He paused. “Please tell my fable to Ms. Donau, and add the happy ending. The man in it stopped long ago being angry at the woman. He hopes she’ll enjoy meeting him again.”
“I’ll tell her,” Macandal agreed. They clasped hands afresh, a touch that clung the least bit, but neither spoke while she saw him to the door.
Her gaze followed him till he had disappeared down the mean street, walking briskly and fearlessly. Well, she thought, he can take care of himself, he’s been in worse places than Harlem by daylight... Damn, what a charmer!
Or am I just reading that into him? Aliyat may well be right, an immortal man is not necessarily a good man.
