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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
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«Pattern, my dear?»
«Yes. I can see a strange pattern over his face . . . not the usual electricity of nerve and muscle. Something laid over that. It fascinated me from the beginning.»
«What sort of pattern do you mean?»
«Fantastic . . . Wonderfully evil. I can't describe it. Give me something to write with. I'll show you.»
They stopped before a six-hundred-year-old Chippendale cabinet. Presteign took out a silver-mounted slab of crystal and handed it to Olivia. She touched it with her fingertip; a black dot appeared. She moved her finger and the dot elongated into a line. With quick strokes she sketched the hideous swirls and blazons of a devil mask.
Saul Dagenham left the darkened bedroom. A moment later it was flooded with light as one wall illuminated. It seemed as though a giant mirror reflected Jisbella's bedroom, but with one odd quirk. Jisbella lay in the bed alone, but in the reflection Saul Dagenham sat on the edge of the bed alone. The mirror was, in fact, a sheet of lead glass separating identical rooms. Dagenham had just illuminated his.
«Love by the clock.» Dagenham's voice came through a speaker. «Disgusting.»
«No, Saul. Never.»
«Frustrating.»
«Not that, either.»
«But unhappy.»
«No. You're greedy. Be content with what you've got.»
«It's more than I ever had. You're magnificent.»
«You're extravagant. Now go to sleep, darling. We're skiing tomorrow.»
«No, there's been a change of plan. I've got to work.»
«Oh Saul . . . you promised me. No more working and fretting and running. Aren't you going to keep your promise?»
«I can't with a war on.»
«To hell with the war. You sacrificed enough up at Tycho Sands. They can't ask any more of you.»
«I've got one job to finish.»
«I'll help you finish it.»
«No. You'd best keep out of this, Jisbella.»
«You don't trust me.»
«I don't want you hurt.»
«Nothing can hurt us.»
«Foyle can.»
«W-What?»
«Fourmyle is Foyle. You know that. I know you know.»
«But I never…”
«No, you never told me. You're magnificent. Keep faith with me the same way, Jisbella.»
«Then how did you find out?»
«Foyle slipped.»
«How?»
«The name.»
«Fourmyle of Ceres? He bought the Ceres company.»
«But Geoffrey Fourmyle?»
«He invented it.»
«He thinks he invented it.
«Pattern, my dear?»
«Yes. I can see a strange pattern over his face . . . not the usual electricity of nerve and muscle. Something laid over that. It fascinated me from the beginning.»
«What sort of pattern do you mean?»
«Fantastic . . . Wonderfully evil. I can't describe it. Give me something to write with. I'll show you.»
They stopped before a six-hundred-year-old Chippendale cabinet. Presteign took out a silver-mounted slab of crystal and handed it to Olivia. She touched it with her fingertip; a black dot appeared. She moved her finger and the dot elongated into a line. With quick strokes she sketched the hideous swirls and blazons of a devil mask.
Saul Dagenham left the darkened bedroom. A moment later it was flooded with light as one wall illuminated. It seemed as though a giant mirror reflected Jisbella's bedroom, but with one odd quirk. Jisbella lay in the bed alone, but in the reflection Saul Dagenham sat on the edge of the bed alone. The mirror was, in fact, a sheet of lead glass separating identical rooms. Dagenham had just illuminated his.
«Love by the clock.» Dagenham's voice came through a speaker. «Disgusting.»
«No, Saul. Never.»
«Frustrating.»
«Not that, either.»
«But unhappy.»
«No. You're greedy. Be content with what you've got.»
«It's more than I ever had. You're magnificent.»
«You're extravagant. Now go to sleep, darling. We're skiing tomorrow.»
«No, there's been a change of plan. I've got to work.»
«Oh Saul . . . you promised me. No more working and fretting and running. Aren't you going to keep your promise?»
«I can't with a war on.»
«To hell with the war. You sacrificed enough up at Tycho Sands. They can't ask any more of you.»
«I've got one job to finish.»
«I'll help you finish it.»
«No. You'd best keep out of this, Jisbella.»
«You don't trust me.»
«I don't want you hurt.»
«Nothing can hurt us.»
«Foyle can.»
«W-What?»
«Fourmyle is Foyle. You know that. I know you know.»
«But I never…”
«No, you never told me. You're magnificent. Keep faith with me the same way, Jisbella.»
«Then how did you find out?»
«Foyle slipped.»
«How?»
«The name.»
«Fourmyle of Ceres? He bought the Ceres company.»
«But Geoffrey Fourmyle?»
«He invented it.»
«He thinks he invented it.