iancaldwell&dustinthomason.theruleoffour-第34章

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　I　will　reveal　to　you　now　the　names　of　those　learned　men　whose　wisdom　forged　my　riddles。　Pomponio　Leto；　master　of　the　Roman　Academy；　pupil　of　Valla　and　old　friend　of　my　family's；　instructed　me　in　matters　of　language　and　translation；　where　my　own　eyes　and　ears　did　fail　me。　In　the　art　and　harmonies　of　numbers；　I　was　guided　by　the　Frenchman　Jacques　Lefèvre　d'Etaples；　admirer　of　Roger　Bacon　and　Boethius；　who　knew　all　manner　of　numeration　which　my　own　intellect　could　not　illuminate。　The　great　Alberti；　who　learned　his　art　in　turn　from　the　masters　Masaccio　and　Brunelleschi　（may　their　genius　never　be　forgotten）；　instructed　me　long　ago　in　the　science　of　horizons　and　paintings；　I　praise　him　now　and　always。　Knowledge　of　the　sacred　writing　of　the　descendants　of　Hermes　Thrice…Great；　first　prophet　of　Egypt；　I　owe　to　the　wise　Ficino；　master　of　languages　and　philosophies；　who　is　without　equal　among　the　followers　of　Plato。　Finally　it　is　to　Andrea　Alpago；　disciple　of　the　venerable　Ibn　al…Nafis；　that　I　am　indebted　for　matters　yet　to　be　disclosed；　and　may　this　contribution　be　looked　upon　even　more　favorably　than　all　the　rest；　for　it　is　in　man's　study　of　himself；　wherein　all　other　studies　find　their　origin；　that　he　most　closely　contemplates　perfection。
　These；　reader；　are　my　wisest　friends；　who　among　them　have　learned　what　I　have　not；　knowledge　that　in　prior　times　was　foreign　to　all　men。　One　by　one　they　have　agreed　to　my　single　demand：　each　man；　unbeknownst　to　the　others；　devised　a　riddle　to　which　only　I　and　he　know　the　solution；　and　which　only　another　lover　of　knowledge　could　solve。　These　riddles；　in　turn；　I　have　placed　within　my　text　in　fragments；　according　to　a　pattern　I　have　told　to　no　man；　and　the　answer　alone　can　produce　my　true　words。
　All　this　I　have　done；　reader；　to　protect　my　secret；　but　also　to　transmit　it　to　you；　should　you　find　what　I　have　written。　Solve　but　two　more　riddles；　and　I　will　begin　to　reveal　the　nature　of　my　crypt。
　
　Katie　didn't　wake　me　up　the　next　morning　to　go　running。　The　rest　of　that　week；　in　fact；　I　spoke　to　her　roommates　and　to　her　answering　machine；　but　never　to　Katie　herself。　Blinded　by　the　progress　I　was　making　with　Paul；　I　didn't　see　how　the　landscape　of　my　life　was　eroding。　The　jogging　paths　and　coffee　shops　fell　away　as　our　distance　grew。　Katie　didn't　eat　with　me　at　Cloister　anymore；　but　I　hardly　noticed；　because　for　weeks　I　rarely　ate　there　myself：　Paul　and　I　traveled　like　rats　through　the　tunnels　between　Dod　and　Ivy；　avoiding　daylight；　ignoring　the　sounds　of　bicker　above　our　heads；　buying　coffee　and　boxed　sandwiches　at　the　all…night　WaWa　off　campus　so　that　we　could　work　and　eat　on　our　own　schedule。
　The　whole　time；　Katie　was　only　one　floor　removed　from　me；　trying　not　to　bite　her　nails　as　she　moved　from　clique　to　clique；　searching　for　the　right　balance　between　assertiveness　and　pliance　so　that　upperclassmen　would　look　on　her　favorably。　That　she　wouldn't　have　wanted　my　interference　in　her　life　at　that　moment　was　a　conclusion　I'd　e　to　almost　from　the　beginning；　another　excuse　for　spending　long　days　and　late　nights　with　Paul。　That　she　might've　appreciated　some　pany；　a　friendly　face　to　return　to　at　night；　a　panion　as　her　mornings　grew　darker　and　colder…that　she　would've　expected　my　support　even　more　now　that　she'd　e　to　the　first　important　crossroads　in　her　time　at　Princeton…was　something　I　was　too　preoccupied　to　consider。　I　never　imagined　that　bicker　might've　been　a　trial　for　her；　an　experience　that　tested　her　tenacity　much　more　than　her　charm。　I　was　a　stranger　to　her；　I　never　knew　what　she　went　through　on　those　Ivy　nights。
　The　club　accepted　her；　Gil　told　me　the　following　week。　He　was　bracing　himself　for　a　long　night　of　breaking　the　news；　good　and　bad；　to　each　candidate。　Parker　Hassett　had　thrown　some　roadblocks　in　Katie's　way；　fixing　on　her　as　a　special　object　of　his　anger；　probably　because　he　knew　she　was　one　of　Gil's　favorites；　but　even　Parker　came　around　in　the　end。　The　induction　ceremony　for　the　new　section　was　the　following　week；　after　initiations；　and　the　annual　Ivy　ball　was　slated　for　Easter　weekend。　Gil　listed　the　events　so　carefully　that　I　realized　he　was　telling　me　something。　These　were　my　chances　to　fix　things　with　Katie。　This　was　the　calendar　of　my　rehabilitation。
　If　so；　then　I　was　no　better　a　boyfriend　than　I'd　been　a　Boy　Scout。　Love；　deflected　from　its　proper　object；　had　found　a　new　one。　In　the　weeks　that　ensued；　I　saw　less　and　less　of　Gil；　and　nothing　at　all　of　Katie。　I　heard　a　rumor　that　she　had　taken　an　interest　in　an　upperclassman　at　Ivy；　a　new　version　of　her　old　lacrosse　player；　a　man　in　a　yellow　hat　to　my　Curious　George。　But　by　then　Paul　had　found　another　riddle；　and　we'd　both　started　to　wonder　what　secret　lay　in　Colonna's　crypt。　An　old　mantra；　long　dormant；　rose　up　from　its　slumber　and　prepared　for　another　season　of　life。
　
　Make　no　friends；　and　kick　the　old。
　All　I　want　is　silver　and　gold。
　
　Chapter　17
　
　I　wake　in　daylight　to　the　sound　of　a　phone。　The　clock　reads　half…past　nine。　Stumbling　out　of　bed；　I　get　to　the　cordless　before　it　can　wake　Paul。
　〃Were　you　sleeping？〃　is　the　first　thing　Katie　says。
　〃Sort　of。〃
　〃I　can't　believe　that　was　Bill　Stein。〃
　〃Neither　can　we。　What's　going　on？〃
　〃I'm　at　the　newsroom。　Can　you　e　over？〃
　〃Now？〃
　〃You're　busy？〃
　There's　something　I　don't　like　in　her　voice；　a　touch　of　distance　I'm　awake　just　enough　to　notice。
　〃Let　me　jump　in　the　shower。　I'll　be　there　in　fifteen　minutes。〃
　I'm　already　undressing　when　she　hangs　up　the　phone。
　While　I　get　ready；　I've　got　two　things　on　my　mind：　Stein　and　Katie。　They　toggle　in　my　thoughts　like　someone　flicking　a　switch　to　check　a　bulb。　In　the　light　I　see　her；　but　in　the　dark　I　see　Dickinson　courtyard；　canvassed　in　snow；　in　the　silence　after　the　ambulance　has　left。
　Back　at　our　quad；　I　throw　my　clothes　on　in　the　mon　room；　trying　not　to　rouse　Paul。　Searching　for　my　watch；　I　notice　something：　the　room's　even　cleaner　than　when　I　went　to　bed。　Someone　has　straightened　the　rugs　and　emptied　the　trash　cans。　A　bad　sign。　Charlie　didn't　sleep　last　night。
　Then　I　catch　sight　of　a　message　written　on　the　whiteboard。
　
　Tom…
　Couldn't　sleep。　Gone　to　Ivy　for　more　work。　Call　when　you're　up。
　…P。
　
　Back　in　the　bedroom；　Paul's　bunk　is　empty。　Looking　at　the　whiteboard　again；　I　spot　the　numbers　above　the　text：　2：15。　He's　been　gone　all　night。
　I　raise　the　receiver　again；　about　to　dial　the　President's　Room；　when　I　hear　the　voicemail　tone。
　Friday；　the　automated　voice　says　when　I　punch　in　the　digits。　Eleven　fifty…four　P。　M。　
　What　follows　is　the　call　I　missed；　the　one　that　must　have　e　while　Paul　and　I　were　at　the　museum。
　Tom；　it's　Katie。　A　pause。　I'm　not　sure　where　you　are。　Maybe　you're　already　on　your　way　over。　Karen　and　Trish　want　to　serve　birthday　cake　now。　I　told　them　to　wait　for　you。　Another　pause。　I　guess　I'll　see　you　when　you　get　here。
　The　phone　is　hot　in　my　hand。　The　black…and…white　photo　I　bought　for　her　birthday　looks　dull　in　its　frame；　a　cheaper　thing　than　it　was　yesterday。　To　name　a　photographer　other　than　Ansel　Adams　and　Mathew　Brady；　I'd　had　to　ask　around。　I　never　learned　enough　about　Katie's　pastime　to　feel　confident　about　her　taste。　Thinking　it　over；　I　decide　not　to　bring　the　photo　with　me。
　　
　On　the　walk　to　the　Prince　office；　I　keep　a　brisk　pace。　Katie　meets　me　at　the　entrance　and　leads　me　toward　the　darkroom；　locking　and　unlocking　doors　as　we　go。　She's　dressed　the　same　way　she　was　at　Holder：　in　a　T…shirt　and　an　old　pair　of　jeans。　Her　hair　is　pulled　back　crookedly；　as　if　she　wasn't　expecting　pany；　and　the　neck　of　her　shirt　is　bent　out　of　shape。　I　can　see　a　gold　necklace　crossing　her　collarbone　on　one　side；　and　near　the　thigh　of　her　jeans　my　eyes　linger　on　a　tiny　hole　where　the　white　of　her　skin　peeks　through。
　〃Tom；〃　she　says；　pointing　to　someone　at　a　puter　in　the　corner；　〃there's　someone　I　want　you　to　meet。　This　is　Sam　Felton。〃
　Sam　smiles　as　if　she　knows　me。　She's　dressed　in　field　hockey…issue　sweatpants　and　a　long…sleeve　shirt　that　says　IF　JOURNALISM　WERE　EASY；　NEWSWEEK　WOULD　DO　IT。After　reaching　for　a　button　on　the　microrecorder　beside　her；　she　pulls　the　bud　of　an　earphone　out　of　one　ear。
　〃Your　date　tonight？〃　she　says　to　Katie；　just　to　make　sure　she　heard　right。
　Katie　says　yes；　but　doesn't　add　what　I　expect：　my　boyfriend。
　〃Sam's　working　on　the　Bill　Stein　story；〃　she　says　instead。
　〃Have　fun　at　the　ball；〃　Sam　tells　me；　before　reaching　for　the　recorder　again。
　〃You're　not　ing？〃　Katie　asks。
　I　gather　they　also　know　each　other　from　Ivy。
　〃I　doubt　it。〃　Sam　motions　back　at　the　puter；　where　rows　of　words　scramble　across　the　screen；　an　ant　farm　behind　the　glass。　She　already　reminds　me　of　Charlie　in　his　lab：　inspired　by　how　much　remains　to　be　done。　There　will　always　be　more　news　to　write；　more　theories　to　prove；　more　phenomena　to　observe。　The　delicious　futility　of　impossible　tasks　is　the　catnip　of　overachievers。
　Katie　gives　a　sympathetic　look；　and　Sam　returns　to　transcribing。
　〃What　did　you　want　to　talk　about？〃　I　ask。
　But　Katie　leads　me　back　to　the　darkroom。
　〃It's　little　hot　in　here；〃　she　says；　opening　a　door　and　forcing　back　a　thick　set　of　black　curtains。　〃You　might　want　to　take　off　your　coat。〃
　I　do；　and　she　hangs　it　from　a　hidden　hook　by　the　door。　I've　avoided　the　inside　of　this　room　since　I　met　her；　terrified　of　ruining　her　film。
　Katie　walks　over　to　a　clothesline　strung　along　one　wall。　Photographs　are　clipped　to　it　with　clothespins。　〃It's　not　supposed　to　get　above　seventy…five　in　here；〃　she　says；　〃or　the　soup　reticulates　the　negatives。〃
　She　might　as　well　be　speaking　Greek。　There's　an　old　rule　my　sisters　taught　me：　whenever　you　go　on　a　date　with　a　girl；　always　meet　at　a　place　you　know　well。　French　restaurants　aren't　impressive　when　you　can't　read　the　menu；　and　highbrow　movies　backfire　when　you　don't　understand　the　plot。　Here；　in　the　darkroom；　the　possibilities　for　failure　seem　spectacular。
　〃Give　me　a　second；〃　she　says；　shuttling　from　one　side　of　the　room　to　the　other；　quick　as　a　hummingbird。　〃I'm　almost　done。〃
　She　opens　the　cover　to　a　small　tank；　brings　the　film　inside　it　to　a　spigot；　then　places　it　under　running　water。　I　start　to　feel　crowded。　The　darkroom　is　small　and　cluttered；　counters　overrun　with　pans　and　trays；　shelves　lined　with　stop　bath　and　fixer。　Katie　seems　to　have　almost　perfect　dexterity　here。　It　reminds　me　of　the　way　she　did　her　hair　at　the　reception；　tying　it　around　pins　as　if　she　could　see　what　she　was　doing。
　〃Should　I　turn　out　the　lights？〃　I　ask；　starting　to　feel　useless。
　〃Not　unless　you　want　to。　The　negatives　have　fixed。〃
　So　I　stand　like　a　scarecrow　in　the　center　of　the　room。
　〃How's　Paul　holding　up？〃　she　asks。
　〃Okay。〃
　A　respectful　silence　ensues；　and　Katie　seems　to　lose　the　thread　of　the　conversation；　attending　to　another　set　of　photos。
　〃I　stopped　by　Dod　just　after　12：30；〃　she　begins　again。　〃Charlie　said　you　were　with　Paul。〃
　There's　an　unexpected　sympathy　in　her　voice。
　〃It　was　good　of　you　to　stay　with　him；〃　she　says。　〃This　must　be　terrible　for　Paul。　For　everyone。〃
　I　want　to　tell　her　about　Stein's　letters；　but　realize　how　much　explaining　it　would　take。　She　returns　to　my　side　now　with　a　handful　of　pictures。
　〃What　are　these？〃
　〃I　developed　our　film。〃
　〃From　the　movie　fi