Cantata - finishing the story

[joegoda]

Two hours later, Wells neared the exchange of A4 and A13, two of Italy's many highways or autostradas. An autostrada was basically a toll road, and they were well kept by the companies that owned them. At each tollbooth, Wells presented his company credit card and the toll was deducted from it.

"Herbert," Sarah said, "you realize that you can be tracked by your usage of the Company's credit card."

Wells nodded as he sipped from his travel mug. Hot Italian roast burned his tongue gently, and the heavy, woody flavor reminded him of better times. Perhaps the warmth of the coffee would help calm his stomach, which had begun some minor complaining. "Yes, Sarah. I realize that. If Hamilton's searching for me, I want to give him a trail of breadcrumbs."

"You now want Director Hamilton to know where you are?" Sarah didn't sound puzzled, and the question came out soft and flat. To her, it was just another bit of data to process.

"I think so, yes," Wells said. He looked in his rear view mirror to see if the lane was clear to pass the truck up ahead. "If things should turn badly, I want Hamilton to know that I was there." He chuckled. "Who knows, I may even need his help."

The sky was clear on this bright August day, and Wells was enjoying the drive. Off to the side of the highway, there was a man selling wine from a homemade stand. A family of three was there, talking with the man, who was nodding and smiling.

It was a fine day. There was nobody following him, nobody that knew exactly where he was. Not even the melancholy memory of Laura was interfering on his mood.

A chirp came in from Sarah's speaker. "Herbert, you just received another email from Laura. Shall I read it to you?"

Wells pursed his lips in thought. "Just the gist of it, Sarah. I'm in too good a mood to dampen the day."

"Laura sends her love, and wishes you had talked to her before leaving. She read in the paper about the fires in Zadar and wonders if you had read about it as well." Sarah paused. "She knows you were involved, Herbert. Laura is a very intelligent woman."

When Wells didn't say anything for a number of moments, Sarah continued. "There are a number of sentences surrounding her relationship with Kylee and some disagreement they had, and argument I presume was about you. She goes on to say that the situation, whatever that is, has been patched up. She hopes to see you in Catanzaro on the twenty-third, and she also hopes that you stay away." Sarah paused again. "Human relations are very complex, aren't they?"

A bit tightly, he answered, "Yes, Sarah, they are."

Wells caught sight of a sign, pointing drivers to Ferrara. "Let's stop here for a while. I need to stretch my legs and I think I may need to eat something." He pulled of A13 and onto SP19. He paid at the tollbooth with the card again. "When I was in Italy years ago, Ferrara was in the midst of Charlie Chaplin fever. Maybe they have a good old fashioned cheese burger."

He gently negotiated around a yellow Citroen that had slowed down and was moving to the edge of the highway. As he passed it, he could see that the front right tire of the Citroen had gone flat. "Probably not though. Still, I'll settle for something. This stomach of mine is rumbling like a freight train."

He drove into Ferrara on Via Modena, which, three miles further, changed into Viale Po. "I think I'll head into the heart of town. That's where all the shops tend to be. Besides, I want to visit the Cathedral of Saint George.

Ferrara was a very, very old city in Italy. Ruled by the Este family until the later 16th century, people the likes of Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Titian, and Petrarch had walked its streets. At one time, under the Estes rule, Ferrara became a center of the arts in Italy. Unfortunately, the Estes line died in 1598, as they had no male heir, so the city became a Papal property and fell slowly into decline. The city revived itself in the early 1900's, suddenly aware of its own history.

Ferrara polished its windows and repainted its doors, shined and repaved the cobbled streets and cleaned decades of soot off of its cathedral and castle. Soon, tourists came to visit, and the city prospered once again, shining like a hidden jewel, just north of its sister city, Bologna.

As Wells navigated through the ancient and touristy streets, he was, once again, astounded at the size and age of the buildings. "I wonder if we'll have time to see the Castle of Saint Michele?" He mused.

"Herbert, I would imagine you have plenty of time. It is five days until the concert, after all."

"I know, Sarah." He stopped for a light at an intersection and then turned left onto Viale Cavour. Traffic, though busy, was polite, contrary to the universal opinion of Italian drivers. "I was just wondering out loud." He felt his eyes moving everywhere, at the shops, at the buildings, at the people. "It has been quite a while since I had the advantage of some 'me' time."

"I understand, Herbert." Sarah, had she been human, would have sighed. "In light of that, I would say that you should get out and see the castle."

"I'm certainly glad that I have your permission, Sarah." He smiled gently. "Because, unless I'm greatly mistaken, that is the Castle of Michele directly ahead."

Six blocks ahead, a great and imposing structure rose, with tall, reddish and gray granite towers on each of the castle's four corners. Each tower was a square in shape, rather than round and they were connected to each other by granite walls, each wall three stories high. The castle was surrounded by a moat, and each of its three entrances had drawbridges fronted by brickwork ravelins.

In the 16th century, the Castle Estense became more living quarters than protection, as the architect Girolamo da Carpi had the castle rebuilt as a home for the Estes royal family. At the bottom, the appearance of the building still recalls a mediaeval fortress, but higher up, da Carpi replaced the battlements with elegant balconies in white stone, making it higher again by constructing a higher storey, the third storey, covered by a skew roof. The towers were improved and made more graceful with roof terraces. The moat, kept intact, became more for aesthetic appearance than for actual protection. In each of the corners of the moat, near each tower, a fountain sprayed water high into the air.

Wells pulled into the parking area near the front of the castle, got out of the car and stretched his back. The clock on the left tower, thirty feet up, told him that it was after two in the afternoon.

"Plenty of time to look around," he said. He reached into the car and put the computer containing Sarah under the passenger seat. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Sarah." He pulled an earpiece from his pocket and placed it into his ear. "If anyone tries to tamper with the car, let me know."

"Very good, Herbert." Sarah's voice came through the speaker in his ear.

"If anyone tries to tamper with you, let me know."

"Of course, Herbert."

"If any email that you deem important comes through, let me know." He started to close the door, thought better of it and said. "That does not include emails from Laura or Hamilton. Understand?"

"I understand, Herbert. If any person attempts to tamper with the automobile or with this laptop, I will alert you. I may also alert the police, if that is all right."

"No," Wells said, shaking his head. "I would prefer to keep a very low profile, Sarah."

"Very good, Herbert," Sarah acquiesced. "If an important email comes through for you that is not from Laura or Director Hamilton, I will also alert you.

"Excellent." Wells shut the door and locked it.

"Herbert?" Sarah whispered in his ear. "May I ask a favor of you?"

Wells frowned. Sarah was a computer. For her to ask a favor would be like the sun asking a favor. "A favor?" He frowned, a bit thrown off by the request. "I would say that would depend on the favor, Sarah."

"Would you take a video feed with you, so I might come along on the trip?"

Wells paused, but only briefly. "I don't see why not, Sarah. You don't ask for many things, after all." Unlocking the door to the car and opening his night bag, he pulled out a small lapel camera. The size of a button, it would clip to his collar and transmit high resolution images back to the laptop via a wireless connection. "In fact, I think this is the very first thing I can remember you asking for yourself."

"I have no answer for you, Herbert." Sarah was quiet for a moment, and then, "I just believe it is something that I would want to... experience."

Wells affixed the camera to his collar button and adjusted it. He rubbed a small spot on the inside surface of the button and asked, "How's that?"

"It appears to be fine. Reception is very good. Thank you, Herbert," Sarah said.

"You are quite welcome, Sarah." Wells relocked the car door and started toward the entrance of the castle. "Sarah, how's the reception?"

"Excellent, Herbert."

"Good." He walked up to the south drawbridge and across the moat. The aged wood under his feet echoed and the fountain off to his left splashed merrily. "I'm thinking, Sarah, that we should start to give you a broader education." As he crossed under the portcullis, he stopped and stroked the wall, feeling the roughness of the granite under his fingers. The stone had a good feel, a strong feel about it. He could almost feel the years vibrating through the rock.

"Oh? How so, Herbert?" Sarah's soft question came through the earpiece perfectly.

"Since I gave you that command... what? Six? Seven years ago to perform your actions as closely resembling a human being as you found possible, I have seen you make incredible leaps in both logic and intuition. I'm starting to suspect you are indeed becoming an artificial person."

"Becoming a person would indicate that I have a personality, Herbert," Sarah countered. "Are you indicating that you believe I have a personality?"

Wells entered the fortress. To the left and right, just past the portcullis, were staircases, probably leading up to offices. The paving stones that made up the floor were the same stone as the walls, hard and old and granite looking. Up ahead, he could see other tourists, wandering around the ground floor and pausing to admire the artwork and stories. Following a sign indicating the way to the ticket office, Wells turned right, after passing through two rooms decorated with portraits of the various members of the Este royalty. There were documents and leaflets next to and on small stands below each portrait, apparently containing stories and history for the tourists to read and take with them.

"When you were alone with Laura and Kylee," Wells said, "your reactions to them were different than when you are with me. Based on that evidence, I suspect that you are indeed a person, if you base being a person on having a personality. I've known quite a number of people that had no personality. We'll have to continue this discussion some other time."

He walked up to the ticket office, a well-appointed room, with a cheerful woman sitting behind a very old mahogany desk. Her chestnut hair was piled high on her head and her makeup was at that point of understatement that only years of applying it right can produce. An name placard announced that her name was Lauren.

"Yes," she said. Her voice was Sophia Loren Italy, soft and deep and purring. "What may I do for you?"

"Hello," Wells said, feeling suddenly shy, like a schoolboy. "I would like to tour the castle, please."

"Ah," she said, with a mild smile. "That is very good, signor, because I sell tickets to tour the castle. We also have a wonderful exhibition, detailing the history of the castle from the creation of a watchtower in the eleven hundreds to present day. Would you be interested in seeing that? It takes just a little over three hours."

"That would be approximately five in the afternoon, Herbert," Sarah muttered in his ear. "Do not forget to eat something."

"Is there a restaurant in the Castle?" he asked.

The woman gave a surprised look, and then smiled and nodded. Yes," she said. "There is the Caffetteria Castello on the first floor, in the cinema. You will still have to buy a ticket, however."

Wells nodded back, offering a smile of his own. "That will be fine." He counted twenty euros out of his wallet. "That will cover it?" he asked, giving the woman his most innocent lost-in-the-woods tourist look.

"Yes, signor," she said. "If it is just you." She took his money and rang on her register. "Do you think you will be climbing the tower today? It is only an extra Euro, but the view is worth it."

"It's mostly just me," Wells nodded. "And I don't think I'll be climbing the tower, but thank you for asking, Lauren. I would like to see the exhibition, though."

Lauren nodded and smiled, handing back his change of nine Euros. "You know my name," she said, batting her eyes. "I do not know yours."

"Herbert," he gave her. "Herbert Wells."

"Ah! Like the writer!" Lauren laughed, and raised one slim hand up to cover her perfect teeth. "Are you a writer, Herbert?" she asked from behind her hand.

"No," he told her. "Just a very tired business man, looking to take in some sights."

"That is a pity," she said, still smiling. "You have that look of... fiction about you."

He looked on the wall at the rules. No dogs, of any kind. Cameras were allowed as long as there weren't any flashes or lights in the rooms with frescoes. "Are there guided tours?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, but I suggest taking the first one by yourself." She flashed a knowing smile. "Somehow, signor, I get the impression you are a man to wander off. I think a tour would be too constricting for you."

Wells chuckled. "I'm afraid you very well might be correct." He took the ticket that she offered him. "So," he wondered, "where should I start?"

"Let us see." The woman rose from her chair and came around the desk. "There is so much!" She handed him a pamphlet and a map of the fortress. "The castle, as you may not know, is just a small part of the tour. This whole fortress was built after the castle, to defend the Estes from the villagers who were revolting."

As she stood close to him, Wells could more accurately gauge her true age. She was early to mid-forties and carried her age very well. She was feminine and matronly and moved with an air of confidence that Wells found very attractive.

Sarah's voice interrupted his attention. "I can hear the blood rush in your ears, Herbert. Are you all right?"

"Hush Sarah," he whispered. "I'm perfectly fine."

"She is attractive, Herbert. Perhaps you could..."

Wells reached up and with the appearance of scratching his ear, he turned the earbud off.

Lauren's brown eyes twinkled with amusement as she took his arm. "I will tell you this." She pointed down the hallway, away from the entry, away from the direction he had come in. "If you follow this hallway, and turn left, you will see all there is to see on the ground floor." She chuckled deeply. "You will also end up in the prison." She paused and looked up at Wells, who gave her the expected rise of his eyebrows. "But do not worry! It is only until you take the stairway there up to the first floor."

Laura reached for the map that she had given him and opened it. She tapped a slim, red nailed finger at the bottom left corner of the first floor map. "This is called The Courts. It is where the staircase leads. Just continue to follow the arrows and you will go completely around the castle and see all there is to see."

She then tapped on the upper right corner of the first floor map. "When you are done with your wanderings, go here. There is a showing of a short film that speaks of how the castle has been featured in movies throughout the years." She turned her light brown eyes up to meet his. "Wait for me there, Herbert, and I'll show you where a very nice place is to have dinner."

At that point, Wells' stomach decided to growl, loudly. She laughed, loudly, and Wells blushed.

"I see you won't wait for dinner," she said. "Come with me."

Taking his arm, she led him down the hallway, through a hallway that contained the entire genealogy of the House of Este, and to a little pathway just off the main path. She opened a door and led him to a small courtyard, one that wasn't accessible to the general public. It was an open-air affair hidden away and surrounded by the walls of the fortress. The blue Italian sky, spattered with sunlit white and fluffy clouds, floated high overhead.

In the center of the tiny courtyard, there were four tables. "This isn't the Caffetteria Castello. It is where breaks are taken, but I think we can get you something to eat." Lauren waved at a young man, sitting at one of the tables and drinking from a small cup. "Antonio!" she called out to the young man.

Antonio, apparently one of the wait staff from the apron and tie he was wearing, looked up and saw Lauren waving. Leisurely, he stood up and approached them. He was a fairly good-looking young man, in his mid to late twenties, with dark long hair and flashing dark eyes. He had the sort of face and figure that young women swooned over, but he moved with the type of unconscious grace that indicated he didn't care one way or another. He was happy in his skin.

There was a rapid-fire discussion between Lauren and Antonio, entirely in Italian. Antonio was a lazy good-for-nothing, just sitting around when there were customers to be taken care of. In his defense, Antonio raised his hands and looked up at the sky, saying it was such a beautiful day, how could he not take advantage of it? Besides, he continued, there were no customers. They had already come and gone. Lunchtime was over.

Lauren turned to Wells. "Antonio will take good care of you, Herbert." She turned to Antonio and gave him a withering glare.

Antonio, unfazed, shrugged his shoulders. "If you will take a seat, signor, I will bring you a menu. What would you like to drink?"

"Coffee would be wonderful, Antonio," Wells said as he took the nearest seat. Antonio moved off to the kitchen and poured a cup of house coffee. To Lauren, Wells said, "Thank you very much, Lauren. And I think I will meet you for dinner."

She clapped her hands and smiled. "Excellent, Herbert. I will meet you in the Cinema Room around five thirty." She patted him on his shoulder. "Until then."

She moved back the direction they came and disappeared around a corner. Antonio arrived with the coffee in a carafe and a single white cup on a saucer. He placed the cup before Wells and poured from the carafe. Antonio arched at eye at Wells and commented, "She's is quite the woman, eh signor?"

"She's a bit... forward, I think." Wells lifted the cup and sipped delicately. The aromatic steam rising from the cup warned him of how hot the liquid was. The liquid burned his tongue pleasantly, the only way truly hot and good coffee can.

Antonio sat down across from Wells and pulled another cup, well used, from a pocket in his apron. He once again raised his eyebrow, and Wells nodded acceptance. Antonio lifted the carafe and poured himself a cup, speaking as he did so. "All women can be forward, if they see something they want, signor. And it is especially true here in Italy. You are new to Italy, yes?"

Wells nodded, letting the warmth of the coffee subside in his troubled stomach. "Yes. I decided it was time for a vacation, and I had always wanted to see Italy. I saw the sign to Ferrara on the way to Rome and, well, here I am."

Antonio sipped from his cup and smiled. "So it is with fate." He looked far up, at the wandering clouds. "I am a summer intern from the arts academy in Bologna, signor. Summer is almost over, and I think I will stay. Laura is one of the reasons I made that decision. A most caring woman you will never meet. She is like a mother to me." He leaned forward and waved Wells to lean in as well. Two people sharing a secret. He spoke in a hushed tone. "She is alone, signor. Her husband passed away last year, and her time of mourning is over." Antonio winked in a knowing fashion. "You, too, are alone, yes?"

Wells thought about the question. Other than Sarah, he was alone. He knew he'd never be going back to Laura and Kaylee... he was nothing but a danger to them. Lauren. Laura. The two names were too close together. He looked at Antonio and nodded, slowly.

"Yes. I am alone, but I'm fairly comfortable that way." He sipped again at his cup. This was coffee the way coffee should be done, slowly roasted, hand pressed. The richness of it made him smack his lips. "This, Antonio, is one good cup of coffee."

Antonio gave a broad smile. "It is my own secret recipe. These beans are from South Africa, and roasted by myself." He gave another conspiratorial wink. "Perhaps someday I will have my own coffee house, eh? Challenge the great Starbucks?"

Wells returned the smile, though not as broadly. "Perhaps. I will tell you that this is the best coffee I've had in very long time." The last time was in Sistiana, sitting with the Carnasis. Funny how only a few hours ago can seem like a very long time.

Antonio stood up, wiped his hands on his apron. "Thank you, signor. Now, what would you like to eat? We still have some very good pasta dishes? Or, if you would like something light, to carry you until dinner with Laura? A salad, perhaps?"

"Subtle, Antonio, very subtle." Wells took a moment to think. "A salad would be very nice. Something light, you choose."

"I will prepare you Caprese, a very light salad with tomatoes, mozzarella and basil," Antonio smiled. "How does that sound to you?"

Wells nodded. "It sounds excellent, Antonio. Thank you. While I wait, I will enjoy your secret coffee."

Antonio nodded. "There will, of course, be no charge. You are a friend of Laura's, and as you Americans say, any friend of hers is a friend of mine. Besides, you are not eating in the cafeteria. You are eating in the break room."

Surprised by this generosity, Wells stammered. "Really... I can't..."

"Of course you can, signor," Antonio said, turning away. Over his shoulder, he threw back to Wells, "And you will."

When he was alone, and sipping the still hot coffee, he whispered to Sarah, "Does any of this seem fishy to you, Sarah?"

"Perhaps, Herbert, they are just being friendly."

"A bit overly friendly, if you ask me." Wells looked around the little break room. There walls were three stories tall, and slit windows showed places where archers used to loose arrows on those trapped here. He started to feel a bit nervous, and it didn't help that his stomach was now constantly complaining.

"Did you pick up any stress readings from Laura that might show that she was lying?" he asked Sarah. "Or Antonio?" Wells kept his eyes moving, examining the upper windows for movement that might indicate trouble.

"No, Herbert. Her voice showed nothing other than the normal signs of stress that humans exhibit when dealing with a new encounter, she sounded very honest. Antonio reads the same. I detect nothing that might be a danger to you. Perhaps you are just being paranoid."

Wells chuckled. "Paranoia is what has kept me alive, Sarah." He sighed. "All right, then. Perhaps this is one time I should try to relax. Perhaps everything is exactly as it appears."

"I noticed that you paid for your admission in cash, Herbert," Sarah interjected. "Is that so Director Hamilton doesn't know you're here?"

"That's exactly what I want, Sarah." Wells saw movement in a third story window and watched carefully. It was just a tourist, looking briefly down in to the inner courtyard. The figure moved quickly out of sight. "There are times, Sarah, when I want nothing more to be than invisible. If Hamilton wants me, he can find me in Catanzaro. Tonight, I'm nobody, going no where." His stomach growled in counterpoint. "Now, if I can just get my belly to agree with me."

"Perhaps this will help, signor Wells." Antonio startled Wells as he sat a large flat plate filled to over flowing with fresh greens and mounds of cheese. He pulled out of his apron a grinder of salt and a grinder of pepper. "Fresh sea salt!" He gave a couple of twists over the salad. "And fresh pepper!" Another few twists from the pepper grinder. "Not to much, of course," he said, smiling. "It would overpower the cheese." He drizzled a bit of olive oil over the salad and said "Voila!"

Wells waited until Antonio was done. "How did you know my name?" He tried very hard to keep his question innocent sounding, all suspicion removed from the tone.

"Laura came into the kitchen and threatened my life if I didn't serve you well." Antonio winked again, a dramatic gesture. "I think she really likes you, signor Wells." He took a seat across the table again and scratched his head. "That's very unusual. She has had many opportunities for men here."

Wells dug into the salad. It was good. It was very good, and Wells chewed with a flourish. "This is excellent, Antonio! Perhaps you should come to the States and open a restaurant."

Antonio waved the idea away. "Oh no, signor Wells! My true love is architecture. Cooking is just a hobby, something to pass the time."

An idea came to Wells and he stopped chewing. He pointed the fork at Antonio. "If Laura has had many opportunities here, why haven't you taken advantage of that fact? You're young, you're good looking."

A look of shear surprise crossed Antonio's face. After a moment he started to chuckle, then he started to laugh, fully caught in the humor of something.

Wells put down his fork and waited. When Antonio had calmed a bit, Wells asked, "What's the joke? Did I miss something?"

The question started Antonio laughing anew. When he had regained his breath, he said "Oh, no, signor Wells. You didn't miss anything." He chuckled. "It is just that Laura is like a mother to me. She has been more kind than most people, and though I love her dearly, I must tell you... she is not my type at all."

"She's not your type... of woman?" Wells asked, still confused.

"No, signor Wells, she is not my type of woman," Antonio nodded, still chuckling. "In fact, no woman is my type of woman."

"What...? OH!" Wells, suddenly and extremely embarrassed, looked away. "I'm sorry," he muttered miserably.

Antonio laughed again, not so loudly, but as good-naturedly. "Sorry?" He waved the apology away. "Sorry for what, signor Wells? How would you know?" He smiled at Wells as one would a child. "How is your stomach now? Is it happier?"

Thankful to have something else to talk about, Wells nodded and returned Antonio's smile. "Yes..." he paused, and waited. "Yes, I think it is. Thank you, Antonio. I think you saved my life."

Antonio laughed again and stood up. "It is nothing, signor Wells. Just consider it part of the service." He glanced toward the doorway that led to the main corridor. "However, if you sincerely wish to repay me, you will not disappoint my good friend Laura. Si? Yes?"

Wells laughed, in part from having his stomach feeling better and in part to the absolute baldness of the request. "Since you saved my life, Antonio, I think it is the least I can do." He dug back into the salad, happily.

Antonio clapped his hands. "Excellent! All is right and well in my world, then." The castle clock rang out three times. Antonio jumped up from his seat. "Excuse me, signor Wells. There is conference going on upstairs, and I need to oversee it." He bowed from the waist and smiled. "Do not forget our agreement for me saving your life. Dinner with Laura, yes?" And then he was gone through the kitchen door.

"So," Sarah whispered in his ear, "Antonio is a homosexual?"

"Yes." Wells nodded. "So it would appear."

"Just as Kylee is a homosexual?" Sarah asked. "And Bleri?"

Wells was quiet for a long moment, focusing on the salad.

Sarah whispered again, "Herbert? That was a difficult question?"

Shaking his head negatively, Wells replied. "No, not exactly difficult as you might mean, Sarah. Difficult in that I haven't fully grasped the entirety of the situation. My system has been through quite a number of shocks recently. I had not even considered that Kylee was a homosexual. I mean, I knew it. It was obvious and Bleri fairly much admitted she and Kylee were lovers, but..." He chewed slowly. "I just never..."

"It never fully registered that your daughter was a homosexual?" Sarah question was soft.

"No." Wells finished the last few bites of salad, gathered a bit of lost cheese with his fingers and placed it in his mouth. "It never fully registered that Kylee was a homosexual. By the way, Sarah, the word is gay. Kylee is gay."

"I know that," Sarah said. "I find the word homosexual to be more accurately descriptive, however. Gay has too many connotations. Lesbian is too narrow, as I was referring to both Kylee and Antonio. Antonio is a male, and therefore cannot be a lesbian."

A thought clicked. Somewhere in this incredible puzzle confusion surrounding the assassination, it suddenly became very important that Kylee was a lesbian. "Oh." Wells said it very softly.

"Herbert?" Sarah sounded concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Sarah," Wells put down his fork, drained the cup of the last drops of coffee and stood up. "I am better than all right, thank you very much." He walked to the door that led to the outer hallway. "In fact, I think I'm better than I have been for a week."

"You know who the assassin is?" Sarah whispered. "I'm making a guess, of course."

Wells stepped out in to the hallway. "Of course you are. And don't you find that unusual?"

"Are we going back to the conversation we began in the parking lot?"

"Yes, Sarah, we are." Wells turned left and crossed into a room containing a scale model of the castle. The model stood on a wooden pedestal and was about fifteen foot long and five foot deep. The walls rose above the pedestal to a height of four feet. There was a green glass moat around the model and the drawbridges were down, crossing the moat.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Wells walked around the model, giving Sarah a full view of it from all sides. "This is how it looks today, Sarah. Centuries ago, the roofs of the towers didn't exist. In fact, the upper floor was entirely open to the sky."

"It is beautiful," Sarah said, "as I understand beauty, Herbert. Is this part of my education?"

"It is," Herbert agreed. "In fact, from this point on, everything is part of your education. If you have a question, if something sparks your curiosity, you must ask about it. Understand?"

"Very good, Herbert." Sarah was quiet for a moment. "Then I have a question, Herbert."

"Yes, Sarah?" Herbert was moving out of the room containing the model of the castle, and into a room containing large frescoes of the various ruling Estes. On the map the room was listed as "Monuments as documents: the rise of the Este dynasty". The history of the Estes' rule was laid out in pictorial as well as written form.

"Are you avoiding telling me who the assassin is?" Sarah's voice carried clearly and Wells smiled.

"No, Sarah," he said. "I'm not avoiding telling you, I'm simply not telling you yet. I think we should spend some time here, focusing on something other than business. Besides, it's just a guess, though I suspect a very correct guess. And we have time. Plenty of time. So, let's just enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

"But...," Sarah's voice faded. "Very good, Herbert. You are correct. I am finding it a very odd thing that my... curiosity is getting the better of me. I'm actually curious that I'm actually curious."

"Ah, Sarah." Wells chuckled, as he read from the plaque below a fresco of a dowdy looking man wearing a high green and red hat. "So it begins. And remember, Sarah. Curiosity killed the cat."

"It did?" Sarah asked, her tone showing a bit of surprise. "How so?"

"Nobody truly knows," Wells admitted. "But it is also said that satisfaction brought him back."

"Him?" Sarah asked. "The cat was a male?"

"It's just a saying, Sarah," Wells said. "What do you think of this room, Sarah?"

"I think that, while interesting in a purely academic sense, it is rather boring." Wells could almost hear the sniff in her voice. "All of these people are dead."

"I agree," Wells said. "Let's move on." He paused before leaving the room. "I want you to consider something, though, Sarah. Even though we may find this room rather boring and academic, to the people of Ferrara this is their history." He did a slow pirouette, allowing the lapel camera to take in a full scan of the room. "To the people of Ferrara, this is incredibly important."

"It is their heritage," Sarah said, understanding.

"Exactly so, Sarah." Wells said as he left the room. In the next room there was a small group of tourists, so Wells warned, "Hold your questions to yourself, please, Sarah. I don't want to appear more insane than I am, talking to myself."

"It will simply appear to be a wireless headset, Herbert," Sarah advised him. "Nobody will notice."

"Hmmm." Wells looked at the group of five other people. "Perhaps you're right." Then, cheerfully, "Very well, then! Ask your questions as they occur to you."

"Herbert?" Sarah said, in a voice that sounded much younger than it ever had before.

"Yes, Sarah?" Wells nodded amiably at one of the members of the other party, a tallish man wearing a sweater advertising a local soccer team.

"I think the cat was female."

Wells just laughed.

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[capi.livejournal.com]

Ferrara was a very, very old city in Italy. Ruled by the Este family until the later 16th century, people the likes of Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Titian, and Petrarch had walked its streets. At one time, under the Estes rule,...

Twice with the Este rule thing in two sentences? *frown* Naw.....
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"I know, Sarah." He stopped for a light at an intersection and then turned left onto Viale Cavour. Traffic, though busy, was polite, contrary to the universal opinion of Italian drivers. "I was just wondering out loud." He felt his eyes moving everywhere, at the shops, at the buildings, at the people. "It has been quite a while since I had the advantage of some 'me' time."

Hmmmmmm.... advantage? Maybe.... maybe "benefit"?
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In the 16th century, the Castle Estense became more living quarters than protection, as the architect Girolamo da Carpi had the castle rebuilt as a home for the Estes royal family. At the bottom, the appearance of the building still recalls a mediaeval....

Now, i've seen that last word spelled a number of different ways... but i've never seen it spelled quite THAT way! Huh.
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n the 16th century, the Castle Estense became more living quarters than protection, as the architect Girolamo da Carpi had the castle rebuilt as a home for the Estes royal family. At the bottom, the appearance of the building still recalls a mediaeval fortress, but higher up, da Carpi replaced the battlements with elegant balconies in white stone, making it higher again by constructing a higher storey, the third storey....

In the paragraph before this one, you spelled it (plural) stories. Now then, what will it be? Story or storey? Choose one! Or is that how you pluralize storey? *LOL*
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"She is attractive, Herbert. Perhaps you could..."

Wells reached up and with the appearance of scratching his ear, he turned the earbud off.

Uh-oh. That got Ender into VERY bad trouble with Jane.... *wince* Irreparable.
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Antonio sipped from his cup and smiled. "So it is with fate." He looked far up, at the wandering clouds. "I am a summer intern from the arts academy in Bologna, signor. Summer is almost over, and I think I will stay. Laura is one...
Laura? Short for Lauren? Or a typo?
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"Of course you can, signor," Antonio said, turning away. Over his shoulder, he threw back to Wells, "And you will."

When he was alone, and sipping the still hot coffee, he whispered to Sarah, "Does any of this seem fishy to you, Sarah?"

"Perhaps, Herbert, they are just being friendly." ((but the connection was cut off....))
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Wells dug into the salad. It was good. It was very good, and Wells chewed with a flourish. "This is excellent, Antonio! Perhaps you should come to the States and open a restaurant."
Chewed with a flourish?? Uh... with relish, maybe?? Interesting mental image, chewing with a flourish..... This all has made me so hungry i have to take a time out to go get an apple. *LOL*
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More! More more more more more!!!!! *grin* After all, i've eaten now and NOW i run outa story?? *LOL*

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

This was one of the most difficult passages to write, Dear Capitani. For one thing, it was one that took me three days... lots of research, and thank you so very much for being my guiding eye. Yes, yes... lots of errors, and I love you for catching them. In this part, however, Wells was doing absolutely nothing! Not a thing. Very hard to write stuff when doing nothing. I had 5 days in which to do something, so here he is, at a castle!

The second hard part is this is the first 5 thousand words I have written entirely smoke free, something I had my doubts I could do. I'm very glad you liked it.

You're not outa story. I just ran out of chapter. Thanks for the edit, luv. There'll be more in a few days.

[capi.livejournal.com]

Smoke-free!!!! *wide eyes* Dang, what a time to give up smoking! Your favorite writing assist!! OUCH, that must be tough! I'm proud of you, my dear! How is it going???

No wonder i'm hearing so very little from you!! Are you hiding out the crankies? Or are you just hiding? *grin/wink*

If Wells is doing nothing, he's in a lovely place surrounded by interesting people... and you've got us all captivated while he does it. *smile* Your snow-job is most effective! *applause* And yes, Sarah has been showing signs of becoming a person all the way thru. YAY SARAH!! *hee*

YAY CHET! Who is doing a LOT more than Wells! YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

I'm doing all right, dear. With all my other smoking friends seeming to make the trip to non-smokeville, especially my dear Sherry, how could I not? I did it once before when a certain sister of mine came to visit. I can do it again. And it saves me money.

I just don't tend to have much to say right now, luv. I'm not hiding out, I'm just here.

I was concerned with Sarah and her burgeoning personality... I didn't want to do a science fiction piece, but I guess when you have a computer as intelligent as she is, you sort of have to give her room. She'll never be a DATA, wanting to be human and all, but she'll know that she is who and what she is.

I had thought long and hard about giving Wells a dinner date. I tried to decide if she should be a bad guy or a good guy. I think I'll make her a good guy. Heck, it's even something I can draw from real life.

I'll give you a teaser, though... Antonio did, in fact, save Wells life, and nobody knew it.

[capi.livejournal.com]

WELL!! There is a LOT packed into that one comment!

Didn't KNOW Sherry was quitting! YAY, Sherry!! So hard to do! You two can lean on each other, like you never done THAT before! *LOL* Quitting the cigs is soooooo hard, sooo hard to stick with, too. I'll pray for you both! Over time, too, cuz that's the trouble. Getting past the first part takes grit, but then... once you ease up on yourself, it can sneak back in.

Listen to me, talkin' to you like YOU don't know? *snort*

Antonio saved Wells?? ROCK ON!! Will we ever know this? It's a good thing, knowing. Not just suspecting, but KNOWING. Slide it in sneaky like, subtle... Good ol' Antonio, he's m'man! Makes a great salad and an even better cuppa coffee, from what i hear tell! HA! And i don't even LIKE coffee!!

*grin* I adore you.

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Do you really want me to tell you how Antonio saved Wells' life? Because it's really, really important to the plot. So important that it hasn't even been revealed yet. Not even hinted at.

I adore you too!

[capi.livejournal.com]

If you mean telling me AHEAD of revealing it in the story, then NO!! No spoilers! I'm right here with the rest of the crew, waiting with bated breath!

*grin*

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Rest of the crew? Honey, I think it's just you and me. No spoilers for you!