A Borrowed Man by Gene Wolfe Read Free Book Online Page B

“There must be a lot of those.”
    â€œThere are.” We got out in front of the hangar. “I’d put our flitter in here if it weren’t locked, but it’s sure to be. There may be a card in the house. Keep an eye out when we get inside.”
    â€œI certainly will,” I promised. I pushed the button next to the door. “You have a card for the house, don’t you, Colette?”
    â€œTo get us in? Of course. I wouldn’t have come here without one.”
    â€œIs it possible that your card might open this hangar, too?”
    For a moment, she stared. “You know, I never thought of that. The hangar was hardly ever locked when all of us lived here.”
    â€œI’ve never seen the interior of a hangar,” I told her. “I’d like to see it.”
    â€œI’m not certain this will work.” She was rummaging in her shaping bag. “It won’t open the fourth-floor doors, but it’s worth a try.”
    She waved her card at the lock, and the green light flashed; I pushed the button again, and the big hangar door slid smoothly upward.
    â€œWell, I’ll—you’ll have to move, Ern. I want to taxi in.”
    I did. There were two sleek flitters in the hangar already, one shiny black and the other bright yellow; both were quite a bit bigger than Colette’s. Peeking through their windows I could see they had six seats instead of two, and I believe they may have had a longer range and that they could carry more baggage. How much money had it taken for a family to have three flitters? The black one for Colette’s father, the yellow one for her brother, and the little red one for Colette? I did not know then and I do not know now, but it must have been a lot.
    â€œCome on. I’m glad you find this interesting, but I want to show you the house.”
    â€œAnd I want to see it.” I followed her out of the hangar and closed the door.
    A broad, paved path led from the hangar to a rear door of the house. “This is the kitchen,” Colette said as she stepped inside. “The ’bot can fix us some lunch after we’ve seen the house.”
    I remembered a great many kitchens, but I had never learned my way around a modern one. The room was wide and bright, with butter-yellow walls and a faint odor not so much suggestive of food as of vegetables and fruits laid out for sale. Somehow I had thought I would recognize the stove, the refrigerator, and so forth, which shows you just how dumb I can be.
    Colette wanted to know whether I was hungry, and I shook my head.
    â€œI doubt that you’ll find anything in here,” she said, “and the ’bot will whip up something when we want to eat.” I did not reply, and she added, “You can look around if you want to.”
    I said I might do that later, but right now I wanted to see her father’s study. I did not tell her how badly I wanted to see it, but it was a lot.
    â€œAnd the safe, I’ll bet. It’s in there.”
    I nodded and kept my mouth shut.
    â€œWe can go this way or that way.” Colette pointed to the doors. “This way’s the formal dining room. It’s two floors high, with skylights, very impressive. It seats…” She paused to consider. “Twenty-two, I believe. That was where we entertained two or three times a year.”
    I nodded to show I understood.
    â€œThe other way’s the sunroom. That’s where the family ate, mostly. It’s long and kind of narrow. An artist told me once the proportions were off, but I like it. All windows on one side—it faces south—and a long wall on the other with framed family pictures. You can tap them and get a lecture, and sometimes the people will start talking. You know the kind of thing, I’m sure.”
    â€œNot intimately,” I told her.
    â€œWhich way do you want to go?”
    â€œThe sunroom, of course.”
    She nodded and led the way. It