The Bones of Old Carlisle (35 page)

After what seemed to be profound catharsis, Tamani and Drune
stopped crying, and now they were speaking quietly but urgently to
each other as they embraced beside Schaumberg’s SUV.

Karl Arrowroot looked at Smiley suspiciously. “Hey, Nebby,” he
said. “I bet you can hear everything they’re saying, can’t you? Be
honest now.”

“Yes,” said Smiley, and his expression betrayed what was likely,
on his planet, mild disappointment.
“Well, I don’t know about where you’re from, but that’s bad
manners here,” Arrowroot said, and he stood and strode down the path
to the street.
For the first time that day, Arrowroot was glad he hadn’t made
love to Tamani the night before, nor even proposed it. She and the man
Arrowroot assumed to be Drune were talking quietly to each other,
using words from English and at least one other language, and he hated
to imagine what she would be whispering if there’d been an incident
the previous evening.
“Pardon me,” Arrowroot said. The man looked up and smiled, but
Arrowroot could see a desperate pain in his eyes. “Might I interrupt
for a moment?”
The lovers looked at him in silence, dirt and tears and makeup
turning both faces into what Arrowroot thought of later as quite
beautiful messes.
“Drune, I presume?” Arrowroot said, and he stuck out his hand.
Still holding Tamani close with his right arm, Drune offered his
filthy left hand, holding it out for Arrowroot to take in a brief,
awkward shake. “Damn good to meet you,” Arrowroot said. “Now, I’d
like, uh, I’d like to resolve a few things, if I may,” Arrowroot said.
“Got a fella on the front porch who needs to be on his way. And some
other business too. Urgent matters.”
Drune reached up to Tamani’s face, touching her makeup as if he
were going to push it back into place around her eyes, and then he
grabbed her hand and together they followed Arrowroot up the walk to
the front porch.
At the top of the steps, Drune stopped and stared at Smiley.
Smiley stood and approached, his hands out.
“Stop!” Drune shouted, and Smiley froze in his tracks.
Arrowroot looked at Smiley, and then at Drune and Tamani. “Okay,
tryin’ to make peace among you folks is way beyond me,” he said.
“Here’s what I—“
“One of my most important objectives was to have as little impact
on this world as possible,” Smiley interrupted, smirking in a way that
was perhaps meant to be disarming. “Harming either of you would
interfere with that protocol.”
“Yeah, you haven’t exactly been discreet so far,” Arrowroot
chuckled. “Tossed in the stir, picture in the damned news. A lot of
people spend all their lives trying to get that famous, and you just
fell into it.”
Arrowroot laughed again, but Tamani and Drune continued staring
at Smiley stone-faced.
“How’s everyone doing over there?” Arrowroot asked, turning
toward the gathering at the corner of his porch. “Anyone need anything
before we get this wrapped up? Water, tea, something stronger?”
Hatfield waved, Schaumberg nodded and smiled, and Danielle and
Mixson simply stared, both apparently certain something nefarious was
going on, but unsure what.
Arrowroot addressed Drune next. “So, you’ve been getting your
chow off those robots, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Drune replied. His voice was deep and strong, and there
was the hint of an accent, as there had been with Tamani when
Arrowroot first met her.
“Out of curiosity, can you show me what they bring you?”
Arrowroot asked.
Drune reached into his pants pocket, produced a flat, brown
biscuit and handed it to Arrowroot.
“Eat it,” he said. “You’ll like it.”
Arrowroot shook his head and handed it back. “I have it on good
authority dog meat’s among the ingredients,” he said. “I’ve always
preferred that species as a pet vs. lunch.”
Drune took the biscuit back, but Tamani snatched it from his hand
and shoved half of it into her mouth. She gave the rest back to Drune
and he bit into it and chewed, slowly and thoughtfully.
“Are you aware there’s a second band of those things, been
killin’ folks?” Arrowroot asked.
“I learned last night, when they drew near enough,” Drune said.
“They had been without guidance, obeying an earlier protocol. They’ve
been redirected.”
“Alright, well here’s the first thing I’m gonna need,” Arrowroot
said. “I want ‘em all here, then turned off.”
Drune looked at Arrowroot and squinted, his dirty face twisted
into the expression of a child’s who is about to say no.
“This is not optional,” Arrowroot said. “You bring ‘em here, you
turn ‘em off and that’s it. You’re gonna have to get your food the
regular way from here on. And then we’re gonna see if Nebby here can
dispose of ‘em properly. You think you can do that, Nebby?”
“Yes,” Smiley replied.
Scowling, Drune pulled a small black box out of his pocket and
began touching it.
“Ah!” Smiley said, and he took a step toward Drune, clearly eager
to watch him work. Drune backed up, raising a hand, and Tamani put her
hand on Smiley’s arm, apparently ready to toss him off the porch if he
moved any closer.
“So you salvaged that from that ship you landed in?” Arrowroot
asked. Drune nodded and Arrowroot turned to Smiley, beaming with
pride. “They figured everything out. Supposed to burn up in our
atmosphere, weren’t they? But they got our minds, and damned if that
wasn’t enough to let ‘em unwrap all the riddles.”
The first machines showed up quickly, three crawling out from
under Arrowroot’s house and assembling on the front walk.
As Drune continued to consult the little box, more appeared,
skittering through the underbrush, joining their fellows. By the time
their numbers had hit a half dozen, Hatfield had slid Othercat off his
lap and was down among them, stooping warily to inspect the murderous
technology. The machines seemed wary as well, clearing a path for the
chief as he knelt among them. They did indeed look like roaches, all
black, six-legged, claws in the front on either side of heads that
held camera-like eyes and constantly-waving antennae.
“That’s all of them,” Drune said when their number had grown to
13, and he passed his fingers over the little box and the robots,
collapsed, one by one, legs giving way, antennae going still, pointing
straight in front. When the last one dropped, lifeless, Drune groaned,
hugged Tamani and shook with quiet tears.
“Alright,” Arrowroot said, “now it’s time to send Mr. Smiley
home.” Arrowroot stepped to the corner of the porch and addressed his
audience. “So here’s a little more background for you,” he said.
“C’mon over here, Nebby, help me tell this story.”
Arrowroot straightened his back and cleared his throat. “So after
all that business with Pre-Nebby, Drune and Tamani, they both knew
there would be more of Nebby’s kind coming, and even had a sense of
when. Tamani watched from my, uh, from an upstairs window, up there,
she yelled when she saw Nebby drop down over at the Carlisle place.
Scared the hell out of her, flat refused to go back out to Fort
Shergawa, beat up two soldiers to keep from goin’. But that’s another
story. Now, Drune here, Drune took it a step further. He’s layin’ for
Nebby, as soon as he sees him hit the Carlisle place, he uses that box
or whatever he’s got to cut Nebby off. Cut ‘im off from everything.
Just shut down all his communications.
“So here’s Nebby, just landed on earth. Funny as hell if you ask
me,” Arrowroot said, and he held his hand up to his face. “Come in,
Moonbase 1, come in, Moonbase 1. Hey, what the hell are you dingbats
doin’ up there? This planet’s a pile of shit, I want off. Oh, damn, my
phone’s cracked.”
Arrowroot laughed to himself and looked at Drune. “So you shut
him down, didn’t you?” Arrowroot asked.
Drune nodded solemnly.
“And there you are,” Arrowroot said to Smiley, “trying to do a
little reconnaissance of the Carlisle house, your phone’s broke, you
find Pre-Nebby all tore up in the kitchen, and then you’re getting
arrested by the damned US Army.”
“Yes,” Smiley said, and he nodded to Dr. Schaumberg. “And then
you gave me your hat. May I keep it?”
Something about his request amused her, and Schaumberg laughed.
“Of course,” she said.
Arrowroot turned back to Drune. “So, you ready to lift that hold
you put on his account?” he asked.
Drune shook his head and Tamani, fear in her eyes, took his arm.
Both glared at Smiley.
Smiley held up his hands, palms out, in a gesture that was
obviously meant to indicate peaceful intentions. “You are human now,”
he said. “I will not violate you. I never had any intentions of doing
so. I’m sorry about what the other one did.”
Still glaring, Drune touched the box, moved his fingers over it,
and stopped.
“Oh!” Smiley exclaimed, and he touched his face and panted.
“Ahhh,” he groaned. “Yes.” He spoke quickly in his own, unintelligible
language, nodding and smiling in his peculiar way, and Arrowroot
guessed he was talking to his own people now, somewhere out there.
“You hooked back up?” Arrowroot asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” Smiley said, turning to Drune. “Thank you.”
“What happens now?” Arrowroot asked.
“My conveyance arrives, and I will go,” Smiley said.
“Oh, damn, just like that?” Arrowroot said, suddenly crestfallen.
“I was kind of enjoying asking you questions.”
“I can stay a few moments,” he said. “Do you want to know
anything else?”
“Yes,” Arrowroot replied. “What the hell was that email you had
me send?”
“A message,” Smiley said. “I thought your computer would
broadcast it, but it traveled through wires instead, and my people
couldn’t find the source. It reached them, they replied and that’s why
you received 100 messages back, but it didn’t tell them where I was.”
“Damn, so you got other Nebbys on earth?” Arrowroot asked.
“Not on earth,” Smiley said, and he looked up.
“So you’re the big kahuna on this one, right?” Arrowroot asked.
“Be the most famous man on your planet when you get home.”
“I’ll be the second most famous,” Smiley said, adding after a
pause, “You’ll be the most famous.”
“Huh?” Arrowroot asked, a visceral sense of dread settling over
him.
“I’ve been recording,” Smiley said, and he pointed to his jaw.
“Everything.”
“Huh?” Arrowroot said again, and then he understood what Smiley
was saying, and he went through quickly in his mind all the
interactions he’d had with the strange visitor, at the Carlisle house,
on the phone, in jail, in his car, at City Hall.
“Everything I said?” he asked.
“Yes,” Smiley said.
“But not what I did,” Arrowroot said. “Not that.”
“Yes, that too,” Smiley said.
“Aw, shit, that ain’t fair,” Arrowroot protested. “Hell no, you
gotta delete some of that shit. Hell no!”
Smiley just looked at him and smirked, and Arrowroot glared
helplessly back.
“Naw, I bet you already uploaded all of it,” Arrowroot said
despairingly. “Oh God, I bet you’re sending stuff there right now. I
mean, live and all. People tuned in right now, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Smiley agreed.
“How many?” Arrowroot demanded.
“Much of the planet,” Smiley said, and his face took on a strange
cast, his mouth sort of twisted, or warped, and his eyes glowed, most
likely with his version of tears, Arrowroot thought.
“Okay, well, damn,” Arrowroot stammered. “Tell ‘em, tell ‘em,
sorry—“
“They can hear you,” Smiley said.
“Oh, damn, okay,” Arrowroot continued. “Okay, everyone, hello,
from earth, and from Heligaux. Got a great city down here. Earth ain’t
bad either, most of it. Drop in sometime, ask for me. Oh damn.”
Arrowroot’s blushed, as his trivial words against the magnitude
of what was happening on his front porch began to dawn on him. “Okay,
I’m done,” he said, and he sat down.
Hatfield, finished examining the robots, hopped up the steps two
at a time. “Before you leave,” he said, crossing the porch to Smiley,
“you got any advice for us?”
Smiley touched Hatfield on the forehead. “Understand what’s up
here,” he said.
“Makes sense,” Hatfield agreed, nodding.
“Okay, one other thing,” Arrowroot said, forcing to the back of
his mind the awareness that everything he said was being broadcast to
a whole planet full of strangers. “You see anything worth remarking at
the Carlisle place? Like maybe a dead body? I mean, in addition to
Pre-Nebby? Him and those others, I mean?”
“Yes,” Smiley replied, “two in the basement.”
“I told you, Floyd!” Arrowroot exclaimed, clapping his hands
together. “Robert found out all about it. Gilbert Cronick did it!
Killed that girl’s husband! That’s gotta be one of the bodies, I don’t
know about the other. Had a secret worth a quarter million dollars,
didn’t want anyone getting in the way. We gotta go back out there.”
“Put together what you’ve got, we might get the run of the place
by next October,” Hatfield said.
“What’re you talking about?” Arrowroot inquired.
“Army’s thinking about packing it in,” Hatfield replied. “Shut
the whole place down, give the land to Heligaux, if they can make it
safe enough. That’s the rumor, heard about it a few days ago.”
Arrowroot clapped and was about to shout again, but Tamani spoke
first. “It’s here,” she said, looking toward the yard. She, Drune and
Smiley were staring at what looked like the air that wrinkles over
something hot, a field of disturbance, otherwise invisible, about ten
feet tall and five feet wide.

“Well damn,” Arrowroot said. “So that’s your, uh, conveyance,
isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Smiley replied, and he took a few steps towards the top of
the stairs, and then he stopped and looked down, and the same
awkwardness that accompanies all goodbyes settled over Karl
Arrowroot’s front porch.
Only Cecilia Mixson, who squinted at the strange disturbance in
the front yard and then looked away, still seemed uncertain about what
was going to happen next.
“See ya, Nebby,” Arrowroot said, and he shook Smiley’s hand and
clapped him on the shoulder.
Schaumberg was next. “You take care of my hat,” she said,
laughing as she hugged him.
Hatfield shook his hand while Tamani, Drune and Danielle held
back, huddled by Arrowroot’s front door.
Finally, Mixson stood and approached. “I’ll be checking on you,”
she said, shaking Smiley’s hand. Addressing Arrowroot, she asked,
“Who’s taking him back?”
“Back where?” Arrowroot asked.
“Back to the home,” Mixson said.
“Aw, Cecilia, ain’t you been listening?” Arrowroot exclaimed.
“He’s done here. He’s hittin’ the trail. Outer space and all. Another
galaxy, in fact, if I understood right.”
“I’m talking about after your story’s over,” Mixson said.
“Someone needs to take him back.”
Arrowroot looked at Hatfield, sudden worry in his eyes. “Floyd,
we’ve got a problem,” he said. “I didn’t even think of it until now,
but if Nebby here just up and disappears, we’re all going to be trying
to explain things that can’t be explained. Cecilia isn’t even
believing me, and she heard the whole story. He’s a damned ward of the
state. Damn. People are gonna think I killed him. Damn.”
Arrowroot raised his right hand as if he were taking an oath in
court. “No, your honor, I did not kill ol’ Nebby. He got into an
invisible space ship in my front yard, I haven’t seen him since.”
Arrowroot laughed nervously. “That’s right, your honor, he stepped
over about a dozen roach-looking robots that had been eatin’ things,
people and dogs and whatnot, and now he’s back home, in another galaxy
most likely. Oh, and cows. They ate cows too. Not too picky—”
“It’s been seen to,” Smiley interrupted. “This won’t be a problem
for you.” He turned to Mixson. “I am more grateful to you than you can
possibly understand,” he said. He hugged her and walked slowly down
the steps, then turned back and looked at Drune and Tamani. “I wish
you could have trusted me,” he said. “You are exceptional,
unprecedented, remarkable beings.”
Smiley looked down at the robots, and as he gestured at them one
by one, they flew toward the disturbance and disappeared. When the
last was gone, he raised the hat Schaumberg had given him and said,
“Goodbye. Thank you.”
He disappeared, as if whatever was hovering in the front yard had
swallowed him, and then he reappeared, his eyes closed in sleep, and
collapsed on the grass.
“Eeeeh!” Mixson screamed, and she ran to him and rolled him to
his back. “Save him! Save him!”
“You know it’s not him, don’t you?” Arrowroot whispered to
Hatfield, but the chief pretended not to hear.
“Call 911!” Hatfield ordered, and as Mixson mourned the death of
her client, Hatfield tried heroically to revive a corpse that wasn’t
alive and never had been.
“Got a man down in my front yard,” Arrowroot said on the phone.
“Just dropped. Just dropped like a rock. We’re doin’ CPR on him now,
not sure he’s gonna pull through.”
Schaumberg joined Hatfield beside Smiley’s body, looking down
impassively. Then she glanced up at Arrowroot with a look that
imparted her understanding. And yet, her eyes were wet with something
akin to sorrow. She knelt and, with an interest that was academic, or
meant to reassure Mixson, or perhaps humanitarian despite everything
she knew, she felt Smiley’s wrist for a pulse. After two minutes, she
put her hand on Hatfield’s shoulder and shook her head. Mixson wailed
anew, nearly drowning out the siren of an ambulance as it roared up to
Arrowroot’s front walk.
“Aw, hell,” Arrowroot muttered under his breath.
The emergency medical techs commonly known as Ken and Barbie got
out and rushed to the corpse.
“We got this, we got this!” Barbie roared. “Just go inside. Now!”
Arrowroot was only too happy to comply, and Hatfield and
Schaumberg followed behind him. Tamani, Drune and Danielle were
already indoors, slipping inside as soon as Smiley had vanished. Only
Mixson lingered near the corpse, wiping her eyes and staring down at
it, heartbroken.
Arrowroot shut his front door, turned and surveyed the occupants
of his living room. Tamani stared back, and then she rushed up the
stairs. Everyone else looked at him, as if waiting for him to say
something. But with Smiley’s departure, some important things had come
to an end, and there seemed to be nothing left to say. Now he would
return to his normal life, such as it was, mourning the loss of a son,
fighting the urge to drink, trying to keep things in order at Town
Hall, wrestling with the issues of First Acre and Expert Manifold. He
was glad Dr. Schaumberg was there. Perhaps she didn’t think he was a
disgrace. Or at least, not quite the disgrace he considered himself.
Maybe she’d even let him take her out for dinner again.
“Drune!” Tamani yelled from the top of the stairs. She had put
back on the old, dirty, torn, bloody wedding dress, and she descended,
smiling at the lover who had been restored to her. When she reached
the last step, she looked at Arrowroot and demanded, “Marry us.”
“Aw, gee,” Arrowroot said. “You two are less than a month old.
You know what marriage is, even?”
“It’s a happiness,” Tamani replied, and Drune nodded.
“It can be,” Arrowroot agreed, and he went into his office to
pick up one of his old Bibles. Then he set it down and grabbed the
book he’d recently started reading, about the Big Bang. “Just like
anything. It can be.”