Footfall

“Luck. It won my first campaign. I wore it to JPL for the Saturn encounter, remember?”

She turned away and he followed her. “I’m sorry you can’t come with me.”

“Me too.” She still didn’t face him.

“You’ve got to be used to it. I’m not home a lot of the time—”

“Sure. But you’re in Washington. Maybe you don’t get home until I’m in bed, but I know you’ll be there. Or I have to come here, and you’re still there, but we’re— Jesus, Wes, I don’t know. But it feels wrong.” She opened the Thermos pitcher and poured coffee. “I talked to Linda, and she feels it too, when Ed’s not on the Earth. She can tell. Is that silly?”

Telepathy? That could be interesting. And if I say that, she’ll blow up.

Wes tried to hide his eagerness to be gone. He couldn’t. Before the aliens came, Carlotta really was the most important thing in his life, more important than Congress or anything else, but not now. Not with the Galactic Congress coming in just a few days, and he’d be there to meet them! She had him dead to rights. You’ll be nowhere on the face of the Earth, and you won’t be thinking about me.

The doorbell rang before he had to speak. Thank God. Wes thought Whoever that is, I love you.

It was Harry Reddington.

“La, Harry,” he said. There was no point in asking why Harry was there. He’d find out whether he asked or not. “Come in, but I warn you” Forefinger prodding the zipper on the lineman’s vest, you had to make things clear to Harry — “I’ve got to go, right now, and Carlotta has to drive me.”

“Sure, Congressman.” Harry used his cane to help him up the steps. “Hi, Carlotta.”

“Hello.” Carlotta’s greeting wasn’t enthusiastic.

It had happened several years before. Wes Dawson, two-term Congressman, stuck on the transportation safety subcommittee, interviewing bikers. He’d been young enough and new enough then to go out looking for information, rather than summoning the interested parties to Washington to testify to a committee.

And in a San Bernardino bar, Wes Dawson had let a Hell’s Angel get his goat, and took a swing at the bloated barbarian, and was about to get his head stomped in, which would have been bad, and in the newspapers, which would have been worse, when Hairy Red the Minstrel made a joke of the whole affair and hustled Wes out of the bar, and only after they were outside did Harry admit that he was so scared he’d pissed in his pants. Or said he had, which made Wes laugh too.

So I owe Harry one. And he’s never really collected. Just uses

that to keep us polite to him. And hell, I enjoy his company Sometimes — “What brings you here now, Harry?” Carlotta asked. She hadn’t been in that bar. She’d only been told. If she’d felt the vibes in that bar, she’d be more polite to Harry. “Heard you’re going up to meet the ETI’s,” Harry said.

“Yeah!”

“Everyone knows that,” Carlotta said.

“I wondered if you needed anybody to keep an eye on things,” Harry said. “I’m sort of loose just now.”

“No,” Carlotta said firmly. “Thanks, but no.”

Harry must be heavily stuck for a place to sleep. Not only that he was here, but that he was so clean, so massively sober…

Wes looked around the house. All the valuable stuff was packed and stored. Especially all the breakables. But there were electronics and keepsakes and things he hadn’t had time to store away (and somewhere, his baseball cap), and he’d really hate to lose them. There hadn’t been time to plan anything. And the breakable stuff was stored, and Wes was just feeling so damned good. He asked, “Harry, where are you living just now?”

Carlotta eyed him suspiciously.

“Here and there—”

“Want to stay here?” Wes asked. “Just for a few weeks. Carlotta’s going to Washington and then visiting her family in Kansas, so the place is empty except for the gardener once a week. Wouldn’t hurt at all if somebody kept an eye on it.”

Carlotta looked disgusted. “Harry—”

Harry grinned. He raised his right hand, the way he would in a courtroom. “No visitors, no friends, no parties. I swear. The kind of people I know, I wouldn’t even tell them where I’m staying.”

“That’s straight, — then,” Wes said. “Your word of honor on record.”

“Sure,” Harry said.

“Good,” Congressman Dawson said. “You know, Harry. That works pretty good I was a little worried, going off-Jesus, except for the Apollo crews, about as far as anybody ever went from his family. I was a little worried about leaving Carlotta. It feels better with you to look after things.” That can’t hurt, Wes thought. With Harry, you had to be careful what you said, because he took things too seriously sometimes. — But he was pretty smart when he was sober, and dammit, he didn’t lie. He’d jump off a cliff before he’d steal from friends.

“Keys,” Harry said. “And the alarm?”