The boat of a million years by Poul Anderson. Chapter 18-2

She came to decision. “Very well. Wait a minute and I’ll issue instructions about that.”

Stepping into the hall, she found a maid and whispered, “The gentleman and I will be in the sanctum. Tell Boyd and Jerry to stand by, and come in at once if I ring.”

The girl gaped. “You ‘spec’ trouble, ma’am?”

“Not really,” Macandal reassured her. “But just hi case.” You didn’t keep going immortally by omitting precautions.

She returned and led Tannahill in among the things that stood for power. He seemed to scan them thoroughly in the moment mat it took her to shut the door. “Now do sit down,” she told him, more curtly than she had intended.

He obeyed. She took a chair across the coffee table. “I’d appreciate your explaining your errand as quickly as possible,” she said.

He couldn’t quite hide the tension that was also in him. “Forgive me if I don’t,” he answered. “What I’m here about is tremendous. I have to be sure of you before I dare let you in on it. Let me start by promising you there will be no threats, demands, attempts to make you do anything wrong. I belong to an unusual class of people. I have reason to think you and Ms. Donau do too. If so, we’ll invite you to join us, for purposes of mutual help and companionship.”

Can he be—? Briefly, the dimness of the chamber hazed before her and a roaring was in her ears. Through it she beard:

“I’ll be honest, and hope you won’t get angry. I’ve had a detective agency prepare a report on you two and your organization for me. They did not pry. They simply went around for about a week, chatted with persons who were willing, took a few snapshots, otherwise looked through newspaper files and relevant public records. It was only for purposes of briefing me, so that I could come today prepare-d to talk intelligently and not waste your time.” Tannahill smiled a bit. “You, the individual, remain as enigmatic as ever. I know practically nothing about you except that according to those files and the recollections of two or three aged Unity members, your mother founded this group which you head, and you resemble her. On the other hand, if I’m not mistaken, I have somewhat more information about Rosa Donau.”

Macandal summoned composure. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing, but her mind ran smoothly and every sense was whetted. If this truly was an immortal, need that be a men-, ace, be aught but joy? Of course, if he wasn’t— Yes, she too must tread with care. “Then why haven’t you ap-proached her first?” she asked.

“She might not like that. Can’t you see, I’m trying not to arouse fears.” Tannahill leaned forward, hands on knees. “May I tell you a story? Call it a piece of fiction if you like. Or a parable; you’re obviously well-read.”

She nodded.

“Once upon a time,” he began slowly, “a woman lived in what is now Istanbul. In those days they called it Constantinople, and it was the capital of a great empire. The woman wasn’t born there, but in Syria. She’d had a hard life, knocked around a lot in the world and taken many cruel knocks from it. Yes, she was much older than she appeared. Not as old as her profession, for which she needed that youthful-looking body. She did well in it, though at intervals she had to pull up stakes and relocate under a different name. To her, at last, came a man who was also older than he seemed. He and his partner had wandered far and wide. At present they were traders, on the Russian river route.”

Always he watched her. She couldn’t take it any more. “Stop!” she cried. Drawing breath: “Mr… Tannahill, are you by any chance associated with … a gentleman named Willock?”

The fingers whitened on his knees. “Yes. That is, I know of him. He may not have heard of me. A longevity research foundation engaged him to find people who carry—the genes for long life. Extremely long life.”

“I see.” Strange how calm she suddenly was, how detached. It was as if somebody else spoke. “Rosa and I saw his advertisement. We found it interesting.”

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