Psychomech (6 page)

This was a different Koenig, one Garrison wasn’t quite sure he understood. ‘Pretty stiff, aren’t we, Willy?’

‘Not at all, sir. We are merely respectful.’ It was strange to hear these so English words spoken in Koenig’s so Germanic accents.

Garrison finished his coffee and stood. The electricity had disappeared from the air now and Vicki seemed distant, lost in space and darkness. Garrison turned towards her in something like panic, or as close as he had ever got to panic. ‘Vicki, are you there? I mean—’

‘I know what you mean. Yes, I’m here. Will you swim with me before lunch?’

He felt reassured. ‘I’d like that,’ he answered.

Koenig took his elbow but Garrison shrugged him off. On his way out of the room he hit a small table and the door, cursing vividly under his breath both times. Out of earshot of Vicki, Koenig grabbed him and held his arms in a vice-like grip.

‘Richard,’ the German said. ‘This anger is stupid. Is it directed at me because I am stiff?
You
think I am stiff. But I do not feel stiff. You must understand that I am a servant here. Is it not enough that we are friends? Vicki is a friend, too, but I call her madame. One day it may be different between you and me, but for now… Besides, your anger caused you to lose co-ordination.’

Garrison gritted his teeth and glared at the darkness where the German’s voice sounded. He slowly relaxed, finally nodded. ‘You’re right, of course. That was rude of me. I got mad for nothing. Jealousy, I suppose.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. You can see her and I can’t.’

‘You were not really mad,’ said Koenig. ‘And certainly not jealous. Frustrated, perhaps. A little nervous. That is to be expected. But you’ll see—by tonight you’ll be completely relaxed and at ease. Now we have to get you shaved—’

‘I can manage that myself.’

’—and dressed—’

‘I can tackle that, too.’

‘—And I have to show you round the place.’

‘Show me?’ Garrison snorted.

‘Bitterness? From you? I can show you by description, can’t I? Don’t be bitter, Richard. Just believe me: if you’ll let them, things
will
get better. Now then, are we to continue to be friends?’

Slowly Garrison’s frown lifted. He grinned, however wryly. ‘Hell, yes, I suppose so. I mean, you probably haf vays to make me be friendly, eh?’

Then, without further protest, Garrison allowed himself to be led back to his room. Except that this time he committed the way to memory. He would never have to be taken there again…

Schroeder was in a wheelchair by the pool. There were no swimmers now but the water was warm. Just a year ago Garrison wouldn’t have noticed—would not have been capable of noticing—but now he could feel the warm air rising, could smell the artificial heat of the water. A young woman was with the industrialist, seated beside him taking notes. He spoke to her in lowered tones, but Garrison could have sworn he heard his name mentioned. They broke off whatever they were doing as Koenig and his charge drew closer.

‘Mina,’ said Schroeder to the woman, ‘Would you excuse us, please? We can finish later.’

‘Naturlich, Herr Schroeder.’ She went, leaving Garrison with an impression of razor-sharp efficiency clad in young flesh of a classic Nordic mould, Schroeder liked efficiency, pretty things, the pleasures of life. What, then, could he want with Garrison?

‘Sit, Richard Garrison,’ said Schroeder. ‘You’ll excuse me for not standing. I can stand, but it gives pain sometimes. So I mainly sit. Sometimes Willy pushes me, at others I wheel myself—for exercise.’

Under Koenig’s direction, Garrison sat.

‘It is good to see you,’ Schroeder continued, ‘and especially good to see you looking well.’ His handshake was firm but his hand felt light in Garrison’s grip, and his voice was… not as Garrison remembered it. Even afraid (as Schroeder had undoubtedly been at the Europa, though not for himself) still his voice had been strong and had commanded respect. Now… he was failing, Garrison could sense it. There was a shortness of breath, a restlessness, an urgency to be done with things while there was still time.

‘Herr Schroeder,’ Garrison answered, ‘thank you for bringing me out here—even though I’m in the dark as to why you brought me.’

‘Your being here is my pleasure,’ said Schroeder. ‘It could well have been the case that you did not wish to see or hear of me again—ever! And I would not have blamed you.’

Garrison offered a little laugh. ‘Oh, you may be sure I’d like to see you. Or anyone, or anything.’

Schroeder took his hand again. ‘Early days, Richard. Your ears are still too alert and ready to hear things the wrong way. It is a wound, but when it heals you will be the better man. How much does it hurt?’

‘That’s a new approach,’ Garrison told him. ‘To ask how much it hurts, I mean. Others just seem to take it for granted that I’m crippled. I mean mentally as well as physically. In actual fact my mind is sharper, clearer. That’s only natural, I suppose. But how much does it hurt?’ He paused, shrugged. ‘Neither God nor the devil himself can put it right, and so I have to get used to the idea. It did Yiuri
,yes
. I mean, there are so many places, pretty girls, marvels I never had time to see. But now—I have a good clear memory and a good imagination. Also, the rest of my senses are good. I smell things now. I hear things I never heard before. Things taste… different. And when I touch something, that is to know it. Like Willy, for instance. Sometimes I feel I’ve known him for years.’

‘So. And Willy has been looking after you, has he?’

‘He’s been doing a great job. Except—’

‘Yes?’

Garrison grinned up at the big man where he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back. ‘Oh, nothing. It’s just that he has a certain advantage over me—for now, anyway.’

‘Willy, what have you been doing?’

‘Nothing, Thomas, I assure you. I think the Corporal means that I am able to see Fraulein Maler while he is not. That is my advantage. They were breakfasting together. Perhaps I interrupted something?’

Garrison and Schroeder laughed together, but the latter’s laughter quickly turned to a dry coughing. His grip tightened on Garrison’s hand as spasms racked his body. In another moment they passed.

‘Willy,’ Schroeder’s voice was broken. ‘You have things to do. You can leave Mr Garrison with me.’

‘Yes, Thomas. Thank you.’ Koenig turned to Garrison. ‘I hope to see you later, sir.’

When Koenig had gone Schroeder and Garrison sat in silence for a few moments. Finally Garrison said: ‘A wheelchair, chest pains, internal damage, general debility, and you ask me how much it hurts? My pain is all in the mind—and fading. Your pains are physical, real—and getting worse.’

‘There’s more of a difference than that,’ Schroeder observed. ‘You were innocent. I was not. In a way, I even caused the thing. I probably got what I deserved. You deserved much better. Therefore I am in your debt. It is a debt I intend to settle. Fully.’

‘Forget it,’ Garrison answered, his tone hardening. ‘Let’s say we’re all squared up.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Schroeder sounded genuinely mystified.

‘You can’t give me back my eyes,’ said Garrison, ‘They’re gone—for good. I know you’re a rich man, but that’s a debt you simply can’t repay. Don’t knock yourself out trying.’

For long moments Schroeder was silent. Then: ‘At least you accept a drink, eh? Bad brandy, with a coke to sweeten it?’

Garrison grinned, glad that the tone of the conversation had lightened. ‘You’ve been speaking to Willy,’ he said. And talking about Willy: how come he calls me sir and you Thomas?’

Schroeder gave a dry chuckle. ‘I have ordered him to call me Thomas,’ he explained. ‘I
had
to order it, since that was the only way. As to why he calls you sir: well, he will be calling you that for a good’ many years to come.’

‘I don’t follow that. I mean, I’m only here for one week.’

‘Oh? We shall have to see. But you should know, Richard, that I have always been a forceful man.’

Garrison nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’m sure you have been,’ he said. ‘I’m quite sure you have…’

‘H
as Willy shown you over the place?’ Schroeder asked.

‘Inside only,’ Garrison answered. ‘He was going to take me through the gardens and into the woods—the pines?—but I was late out of bed and there wasn’t time.’

‘Ah, yes! Willy is strict on schedules. He always follows instructions or agreed tactics to the letter.’

‘Tactics?’

Schroeder chuckled. ‘Tactics, strategies—did you think these terms were only used in battle? No, there are business tactics, too, and there are also tactics for entertaining guests. In your case we shall be obliged to mix the two, though as a rule that’s a cocktail not much to my taste. But come, you push and I shall steer. You be the engine and I’ll be the engineer. We’ll talk as we go.’

‘Do you trust me?’

Schroeder had a sudden, vivid, dazzling flash of memory. In his mind’s eye he saw Garrison in mid-air, stretched out, reaching, limned against a blossoming shock; of white fire. And he felt again the senses-shattering, gut-crushing blast of the explosion. He shuddered and the vision passed. Trust you? Oh, yes! With my life, Richard Garrison.’

Garrison got to his feet. He nodded and slowly began to push the wheelchair, following the course that Schroeder steered. ‘The building you slept in last night is my own private house,’ the man in the chair explained. ‘At least when I am in this part of the world. And “house” is rather a poor word for it, really; for of course the place in no way resembles a house in the accepted sense of the word. It is more a small,
very
private hotel, I suppose. And it is only one of six such structures. It stands central, with the other five building a circle about it. Between the buildings are paths, gardens, fountains and three small, heated swimming pools. Maintenance—that is to say the central heating, control of the solar cells and panels, the air conditioning in so forth—is all controlled from beneath the central structure. By the way, did Willy take you up to the roof?’

‘Yes, he showed me the whole place.’

‘Then you will know that the “attic” is in fact a revolving solarium. Thus the building—my “headquarters”, if you like—has a cellar, ground, first and second floors, and a solarium roof. The other buildings are the same, with the exceptions that they have no second floors and no elevators. The roofs of all six structures are domed and half-covered in solar cells. They also have large reflective mirrors which automatically follow the sun, which gives us one third of our power. Seen from above, all glittery and with its central tower, the place looks very futuristic. But I assure you that everything is functional. Nothing is for decoration.’

‘Well,’ said Garrison, ‘so now I know what the place looks like. But what is it for? What’s its purpose?’

‘Eh? Well for one thing it’s my home, or one of them, as I’ve already explained.’

Garrison was impressed. ‘Jesus! One of your homes! The place must be worth a million.’

Schroeder chuckled.‘Seven millions, my young friend. And that was when it was built, five years ago. And not Deutsch Marks but pounds—pounds sterling!’

Garrison whistled. ‘But why six buildings? Who do you accommodate?’

‘Well, apart from myself, the inner building—the inner sanctum, as it were—accommodates my staff and Willy Koenig. The upper floors are for guests; my staff and I remain on the ground floor. That is the building in which I entertain only the most influential of business friends. You should feel suitably honoured.’

‘Oh, I do!’

‘As for the outer buildings: two of them are likewise designed as guest accommodation. The other three are rather more special.’

‘Special?’

‘Oh, yes! One is a small but marvellously equipped hospital. Rather, a surgery. Have you heard of Saul Siebert?’

‘The doctor?’

‘A surgeon—perhaps the world’s greatest. I paid for Saul’s studies, his education. It was a favour to his father, one of my junior officers, killed in the war. A favour, yes—but what an investment! Saul is quite brilliant, but he does not forget that he owes everything to me. He has his own sanatorium in the Harz, of course, but occasionally I require him to work here.’

‘You
“require”
him to work here?’

Schroeder ignored Garrison’s dry tone. ‘So far,’ he continued, ‘Saul Siebert has saved four lives here. Lives which were important to me. One was that of an oil sheik, another a member of the Soviet Presidium, who now enjoys excellent health. The third was a Greek shipping magnate whose name is a household word, and the last was my own. Saul is not finished with me, however, for there is still much damage. Personally, I do not think he has enough time left to finish the job. Rather, I do not think I have enough time…’

As Garrison brought the chair to an abrupt halt Schroeder hastily urged him on. ‘No, no, don’t stop. And please forgive me for being so morbid. This is poor entertainment indeed! Now then, what were we talking about?’

‘Two buildings left to explain,’ Garrison reminded him, wheeling the chair forward again.

‘Of course,’ said Schroeder, ‘and once more, forgive me. Two more buildings, yes. One of them is my library. Nothing but books. I’m a great reader, you see. And the roof is not a solarium but a reading room and observatory, The last building: that is a strictly private place. No one goes in there but me, and very occasionally Willy. And tomorrow—you.’

Garrison felt a sudden chill that had nothing at all to do with the balmy temperature. Curious though he was, he curbed his instinctive desire to know more about Schroeder’s strictly private place’. Instead he asked: ‘Where to now?’

‘Carry on straight down this path, slowly. There’s a place in the woods where a very special mushroom may be Found.*

‘Mushrooms, at this time of year?’

‘Very special,’ Schroeder repeated. ‘I had the spawn brought here from the Nan Shan in Tibet. It lay dormant for two years. Then, last year, the first crop. And I am informed that the mushrooms are once again ready to be picked. We shall see…’

Garrison pushed the wheelchair and Schroeder down a slight decline for about a hundred yards; after that the way levelled out and quite suddenly the sun’s warmth left his face and naked arms.-Now he heard the whisper of leaves, smelled the fragrance of the pines.