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watching TV," he said when Arthur finished. "I finished my essay...about two
days ago. Dictating. It s on tape." He pointed to a portable recorder on the
nightstand. "Good thing, too. I can t concentrate now. Too many...ups and
downs. Sons of bitches. Can no more will them away...than I can make myself
healthy, huh?"
"I guess not," Arthur said.
"All the king s men." He drummed his fingers softly on the bed. "Anybody
willing& to kill Captain Cook?"
Arthur smiled, his cheek twitching.
"Hope. Let s hope." Harry rolled his head to one side, facing a framed poster
of sequoias to the left of the window. "The essay is for you alone. I don t
want it published. It s not my best work. Use it& as you see fit." He closed
his eyes. "Sometimes I don t know whether I m dreaming or not. I wish I was
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dreaming now."
Arthur turned to Ithaca. "Harry and I have to speak alone for just a few
minutes."
"All right," Ithaca said, with barely concealed resentment. She stood up and
went into the corridor.
"Something juicy?" Harry asked, opening his eyes again.
"Do you remember when we were eleven, and I played that trick on you?"
"Which one?" Harry asked.
"I said I had been inhabited by a spaceman. That my body was being used to
help investigate the Earth."
"Jesus," Harry said, shaking his head, smiling. "I d forgotten about that one.
You really took it to extremes."
"I was a kid. Life was dull."
"You spent three weeks acting like an alien whenever you were around me.
Asking all sorts of weird questions, telling me about life on your planet."
"I never apologized for pulling that on you."
Harry held up one hand.
"You told me you had prayed to God to tell you whether I was a spaceman or
not, and God had said "
"God had told me you were a fraud." Harry s face seemed almost healthy now,
with the memories coming back. "I was a pretty rampant little theologian then.
So you ducked out."
Arthur nodded. "I said I d be going away, and never coming back the alien
inside me, rather. And it did."
"You refused to acknowledge you had ever acted like an alien. Total memory
blank. What a scam."
"Our friendship survived. That surprised me a little, years later, thinking
about it& "
"I wouldn t have believed you if I hadn t wanted to. As you say, life was
dull."
Arthur looked down at Harry s shriveled arms. "It wasn t right. I deeply
regretted it. It might be the only thing between us I do regret& "
"Besides stealing Alma Henderson from me."
"That was a favor. No. I mean it. I especially regret doing that to you now,
because...I m about to do it again."
Harry s grin took an edge of puzzlement. Arthur s expression was deadly
serious, but enthused; his arms fairly twitched with holding something in, and
he reached up to pinch his cheek, as he always did when thinking.
"All right," Harry said.
That brought the tears to Arthur s eyes. The way Harry accepted whatever was
coming from him, without hesitation, forthrightly. _You could be married a
million years and such instant rapport would be impossible._ Arthur loved
Harry fiercely then. The tears slid down his cheek and he took a deep breath,
then leaned over and whispered in his friend s ear.
"Christ," Harry said when he had finished. He stared earnestly at Arthur. One
finger slowly tapped the blanket. "Now I know I m dreaming." He blinked at the
cloud-filtered sunshine coming through the window curtains. "You wouldn t& "
Abandoning that question, he said, "When did this happen to you?"
"This morning."
Harry looked at the curtain. "Ithaca. She can tell me. I ve been confused. She
left& "
Arthur took the metal spider from his pocket and held it before Harry s face,
resting it in his palm. It moved its legs in a slow, restless dance. Harry s
eyes widened and he made an effort to back up against the pillows. "Christ,"
he repeated. "What is it? What is it doing here?"
"It s a miniature von Neumann probe," Arthur said. "It explores, recruits.
Does research. Gathers samples. It makes copies of itself." He returned the
spider to his pocket. "Captain Cook has his own enemies," he said.
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"So what are you, a slave?"
Arthur didn t respond for a moment. "I don t know," he said.
"Who else& ?"
Arthur shook his head. "There are others."
"What if it s another& layer of deception?" Harry asked, closing his eyes
again.
"I don t think it is."
"You re saying there s hope."
Arthur s expression changed to puzzlement. "That s not the word I d use. But
there s a new factor, yes."
"And this is all you know."
"All I know," Arthur said. He touched Harry s arm. They sat quietly for a few
moments, Harry thinking this over. The effort tired him.
"All right," he said. "I ve known you long enough. You told me so I could die
with some good news, maybe, right?"
Arthur nodded.
"They let you tell me."
"Yes."
Harry closed his eyes. "I love you, old buddy," he said. "You ve always
managed to come up with the craziest things to keep me amused."
"I love you, too, Harry." Arthur stepped outside the room to call Ithaca in.
She resumed her seat, saying nothing.
"I think you must...have a lot of work to do," Harry said. "I can t think
straight and...I m too tired to talk much now." He waved his finger: time to
go.
"Thanks for coming by," Ithaca said, handing him the tape from the small
recorder. Arthur hugged her tightly, then bent over the bed and took Harry s
head gently between his hands.
_Thirty years. I can still recognize him behind the mask of sickness. He's
still my beloved Harry._
Arthur squinted, trying to hold back the flooding warmth in his eyes, trying
to _will_ another world where his friend would not be dying ignoring for the
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