you.” He kissed her gently. “On second thought, I probably won't tell you. But that warning about laughing still goes.”
“Why?”
“Because if you laugh, you'll lose me.”
The image amused her, so she laughed, and she lost him.
“I warned you, right? Although it really doesn't matter, for all the good I was doing you.”
“Don't talk about it.”
He laughed in his turn. “You know something? This is going to come at you as a big surprise. Endurance is my forte. I'm not conning. That's normally what I have to recommend me. Endurance. How's that for yaks?”
“We have all kinds of time. At least you didn't reach for a cigarette.”
He rolled over onto his back and spoke quietly into the common dark above them. “All things taken into consideration, Nature's really a capricious bitch. I've never cared much about the women I was with—I usually don't feel much of anything. And so I'm a paragon of control. And they do very well indeed. But with you—when I cared and it mattered, andbecause I cared and it mattered—I suddenly became the fastest gun in the east. Like I said, Nature's a bitch.”
Gem turned to him. “Hey, what is all this? You're talking like it was afterwards. And here all the time I've been hoping it was between times.”
He swung out of bed. “You're right! It's between times. You just wait there while I get us a resuscitating split of champagne.”
“No, wait.” She sat up in bed, her body outlined with silver backlight and splendid. “Come back here and let me talk to you.”
He lay across the bottom of the bed and put his cheek against her feet. “You sound serious and portentous and all.”
“I am. It's about this job for Mr. Dragon—”
“Please, Gem.”
“No. No, now just keep quiet for a second. It has to do with a biological device that the other side is working on. It's a very ugly thing. If they come up with it before we do... That could be terrible, Jonathan.”
He hugged her feet to him. “Gem, it doesn't matter who's ahead in this kind of race. It's like two frightened boys dueling with hand grenades at three feet. It really doesn't matter who pulls the pin first.”
“What does matter is that we aren't so likely to pull the pin!”
“If you're saying that the average shopkeeper in Seattle is a humane guy, that's perfectly true. But so is the average shopkeeper in Petropavlovsk. The fact is that the pin is in the hands of men like Dragon or, even worse, at the mercy of a short circuit in some underground computer.”
“But, Jonathan—”
“I'm not going to take the job, Gem. I never do sanctions when I have enough money to get along. And I don't want to talk about it anymore. All right?”
She was silent. Then she made her decision. “All right.”
Jonathan kissed her feet and stood up. “Now how about that champagne?”
Her voice arrested him at the top of the loft stairs. “Jonathan?”
“Madam?”
“Am I your first black?”
He turned back. “Does that matter?”
“Of course it matters. I know you're a collector of paintings, and I wondered...”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I ought to smack your bottom.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You still want some champagne?”
She opened her arms and beckoned with her fingers. “Afterwards.”
LONG ISLAND: June 13
Jonathan simply opened his eyes, and he was awake. Calm and happy. For the first time in years there was no blurred and viscous interphase between sleeping and waking. He stretched luxuriously, arching his. back and extending his limbs until every muscle danced with strain. He felt like shouting, like making a living noise. His leg touched a damp place on the sheet, and he smiled. Jemima was not in bed, but her place was still warm and her pillow was scented lightly with her perfume, and with the perfume of her.
Nude, he swung out of bed and leaned over the choir loft rail. The steep angle of the tinted shafts of sunlight across the nave indicated late morning. He called for
“Why?”
“Because if you laugh, you'll lose me.”
The image amused her, so she laughed, and she lost him.
“I warned you, right? Although it really doesn't matter, for all the good I was doing you.”
“Don't talk about it.”
He laughed in his turn. “You know something? This is going to come at you as a big surprise. Endurance is my forte. I'm not conning. That's normally what I have to recommend me. Endurance. How's that for yaks?”
“We have all kinds of time. At least you didn't reach for a cigarette.”
He rolled over onto his back and spoke quietly into the common dark above them. “All things taken into consideration, Nature's really a capricious bitch. I've never cared much about the women I was with—I usually don't feel much of anything. And so I'm a paragon of control. And they do very well indeed. But with you—when I cared and it mattered, andbecause I cared and it mattered—I suddenly became the fastest gun in the east. Like I said, Nature's a bitch.”
Gem turned to him. “Hey, what is all this? You're talking like it was afterwards. And here all the time I've been hoping it was between times.”
He swung out of bed. “You're right! It's between times. You just wait there while I get us a resuscitating split of champagne.”
“No, wait.” She sat up in bed, her body outlined with silver backlight and splendid. “Come back here and let me talk to you.”
He lay across the bottom of the bed and put his cheek against her feet. “You sound serious and portentous and all.”
“I am. It's about this job for Mr. Dragon—”
“Please, Gem.”
“No. No, now just keep quiet for a second. It has to do with a biological device that the other side is working on. It's a very ugly thing. If they come up with it before we do... That could be terrible, Jonathan.”
He hugged her feet to him. “Gem, it doesn't matter who's ahead in this kind of race. It's like two frightened boys dueling with hand grenades at three feet. It really doesn't matter who pulls the pin first.”
“What does matter is that we aren't so likely to pull the pin!”
“If you're saying that the average shopkeeper in Seattle is a humane guy, that's perfectly true. But so is the average shopkeeper in Petropavlovsk. The fact is that the pin is in the hands of men like Dragon or, even worse, at the mercy of a short circuit in some underground computer.”
“But, Jonathan—”
“I'm not going to take the job, Gem. I never do sanctions when I have enough money to get along. And I don't want to talk about it anymore. All right?”
She was silent. Then she made her decision. “All right.”
Jonathan kissed her feet and stood up. “Now how about that champagne?”
Her voice arrested him at the top of the loft stairs. “Jonathan?”
“Madam?”
“Am I your first black?”
He turned back. “Does that matter?”
“Of course it matters. I know you're a collector of paintings, and I wondered...”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I ought to smack your bottom.”
“I'm sorry.”
“You still want some champagne?”
She opened her arms and beckoned with her fingers. “Afterwards.”
LONG ISLAND: June 13
Jonathan simply opened his eyes, and he was awake. Calm and happy. For the first time in years there was no blurred and viscous interphase between sleeping and waking. He stretched luxuriously, arching his. back and extending his limbs until every muscle danced with strain. He felt like shouting, like making a living noise. His leg touched a damp place on the sheet, and he smiled. Jemima was not in bed, but her place was still warm and her pillow was scented lightly with her perfume, and with the perfume of her.
Nude, he swung out of bed and leaned over the choir loft rail. The steep angle of the tinted shafts of sunlight across the nave indicated late morning. He called for
Similar Books
