people don't fit."
"Like the laundry vent?"
The Mouse nodded. “Exactly."
"Why where you there?” asked Penelope.
"Because that's where Merlin put on his magic show."
"I like his tricks,” said Penelope. “They're fun.” She paused. “Is he your husband?"
The Mouse chuckled. “No, thank God. He's just my business partner."
"Do you love him?"
"No."
"Do you like him?"
"Yes."
"More than you like me?"
"I hardly know you yet, Penelope,” said the Mouse. “But I'm sure that after we get acquainted, I won't like anyone better than I like you."
"I hope so,” said Penelope.
"Now it's my turn to ask you some questions."
"All right."
"What's your home world?"
"I don't know."
"I don't mean the world you were born on. I mean the one you live on."
"Oh. Solomon."
"That's the world we're on now,” the Mouse pointed out.
"Then it's my home world now."
"Let me try it a different way. Where did you grow up?"
"All over."
The Mouse frowned. “Where did your parents live?"
"With me."
A waiter arrived with their dinners, and the Mouse put off further questions until they had finished eating. Then, while they were waiting for dessert, she tried again.
"Do you know why the alien kidnapped you?"
"What is kidnapped ?” asked Penelope.
"Why he stole you from your family?"
"He didn't. He stole me from Jimmy Sunday.” She paused, considering her answer. “He saved me from Jimmy Sunday,” she amended, “but he was very mean to me."
"Jimmy Sunday?” repeated the Mouse. “He was a bounty hunter. I remember hearing that they found his body on Glennaris V."
"Glennaris IV,” Penelope corrected her. “No one lives on Glennaris V."
"And you say the alien stole you from him and killed him?"
"He saved me from him,” repeated Penelope. “Jimmy Sunday was going to hurt me.” She paused thoughtfully. “I don't know who killed him."
The Mouse looked puzzled. “Why would he want to hurt you?"
Penelope shrugged. “I don't know."
"Maybe you just thought he was going to hurt you. He was probably a gruff man."
"He was going to kill me,” said Penelope adamantly.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Those two men on Cherokee were going to kill me, too."
"No, they weren't,” said the Mouse. “They were going to take you away from us and return you to your family."
"I don't have any family."
"You must have someone—a cousin, an uncle, something."
Penelope shrugged. “Maybe."
"Anyway, they weren't going to kill you. Someone has offered a lot of money for anyone who finds you and returns you to them. Nobody can collect it if you're dead."
"You're not going to return me, are you?” asked Penelope fearfully.
"Of course not,” lied the Mouse. “But I have to find out who wants you back, so I can tell them that you're safe and that you'd rather stay with me.” She paused. “Who do you think wants you back?"
"Everybody,” said Penelope. “Especially the Number Man."
"The Number Man?” repeated the Mouse. “Who's that?"
"I don't know."
"Why do you call him the Number Man?"
"Because his name is a number."
"It is?"
Penelope nodded. “32,” she said.
"Maybe it's a code."
"Everyone called him that."
"Who is everyone?"
"Everyone in the building."
"What building?"
"I don't know."
"Where was this building?” asked the Mouse.
"Far away,” said Penelope. “On a big planet with lots of buildings."
"If I named the planet, would you know it?"
"Yes."
"Earth?"
"No."
"Sirius V?"
"No."
"Deluros VIII?"
"That's it,” said Penelope.
"You've been to Deluros?"
Penelope nodded. “It's a big world."
"The biggest,” agreed the Mouse. “Did you live there?"
Penelope shook her head. “The Number Man took me there."
"Why would someone take you to the capital world of the Democracy?"
"I don't know."
"How long were you there?"
"A long time."
"A week? A month? A year?"
Penelope shrugged. “A long time."
"Did you like it there?” asked the Mouse.
"No. Everybody wore uniforms and they
Learning to Kill: Stories