The Speculist

Then LeClaire, surprisingly, intercedes on my behalf.

"It is traditional," he says ," for a businessman to offer refreshment at a meeting. And, yes, it is traditional for participants in business meetings to take refreshment. "

He takes a long sip from his cafe au lait, and then resumes his studying of the boxes. Markku turns back to look at the Frenchman.

"It is sickening," he says. "And it is weak. "

"Don't worry, Emmett,“says Daphne. "Pay no attention to Mr. Grumpy. Enjoy your muffin. "

I set the muffin down on the plate. I'm certainly glad that these two have shown up, and I trust that they will somehow bring a speedy resolution to what I've come to think of as This Whole Unfortunate Markku Business, but I don't see any point in taking any actions that might get the old guy all riled up.

Besides, what was I thinking? I'm not hungry. I'm surrounded by crazy people with strange powers. Maybe"Mr. Grumpy"has a point; maybe this is no time to be thinking about food.

Not even those exquisite muffins.

My stomach rumbles again. Cousin Nino is correct—I'm weak. Well not that weak, by golly. The flesh be damned.

"I repeat my question," says LeClaire. "What is this game, Markku? What are these boxes?"

Markku shakes his head.

"I owe you no explanation. And I offer none. "

"Fine," says Daphne. "Emmett, could you please tell us what this is all about?"

"Well, I'll do my best. Essentially, this is the second round of a game that I first played several years ago. That time, I was to choose between a check for $5,000 and the opportunity to start my life over. I chose the latter, and it's worked out quite well for me. "

LeClaire nods along with my explanation, scratching his chin.

"Very interesting," he says. "So this is not your first time playing this game?"

"That’s right. "

"And so, it is not your first time meeting Mr. Markku. "

"Um, no, it's not. "

LeClaire frowns and turns to look at Markku for a moment.

"It is most unusual, Nino," he says. "It would not be like you to offer a man a sum of money, much less the chance to start his life over."

Markku does not respond.

"Unless, of course, you wanted something very particular from that man," LeClaire continues. He turns and looks at me, sizing me up as he was the boxes just a moment before. "But—and I mean no offense to you at all, Emmett—what could Mr. Hamilton possibly have to offer you?"

"Um, right," I say. "To tell you the truth, it didn't exactly go down like that. Mr. Markku was not actually the one giving me the choice. He just kind of showed up in the middle of the process and gave me some advice as to which choice I should make. "

LeClaire nods. He strokes his chin again.

"And you think you made the right choice?" Daphne asks.

"Well, I'll be honest with you, Miss Yee ... I'm sorry—is it Miss Yee or Miss Wong?"

She smiles a winning smile.

"It’s Wong," she says. "But I want you to call me Daphne. All my friends do. "

I'm reasonably certain that she's flirting with me. It's not unheard of. Ever since I became a millionaire and a celebrity, I do get flirted with from time to time. But I still find it a highly unsettling experience.

Especially today .

What I need to do, here, is to work up the married angle. That's right.

I'm married.

"Thank you, Daphne. As I was saying, at the time I was given the first choice, my work setting was not quite as, shall we say, well appointed as my current surroundings. My change in circumstances derive from that day, and from that decision. Yes, it was definitely the right choice. "

Oops, forgot to mention the whole I'm married thing. On the other hand, sometimes they get all the more interested in you when they find out your married. Maybe the safest choice is simply not to go there. After all, I'm sure I can endure a little flirting.

Daphne and Michelle share a puzzled look.

"It is fascinating," says LeClaire. "It is virtually unheard of. Nino, what are you about, here? Doing good? You?"

This, of course, is an excellent point. And I can see why LeClaire is puzzled. As grateful as I continue to be for the change in my life that occurred after the Two-Box Experiment, it's never been clear to me exactly what this Markku guy got out of giving me advice. Why was he there?

It would be extremely safe to say that he doesn't fit the do-gooder profile. Now, if there is a hangs-around-the-backyard-trying-to-catch-squirrels-so-as-to-commit-unspeakable-acts-on-them-with-a-Weed-Whacker profile, I think we would be getting warmer. And if there is a died-30-years-ago-and-was-thawed-out-this-morning-via-Mad-Scientist-Electroshock-Resuscitation-Technology-in-order-to-resume-a-tragically-cut-short-career-as-a-serial-killer, well, I think we might have a match.

But a guy who shows up and helps me out with my life? That doesn't make much sense. Nor did it make much sense that I followed his advice in the first place.

"You’re not so ignorant as you pretend," Markku says to LeClaire. "Why are you here? What is your interest in this being?"

That would be me. This being.

"Our interest is whatever your interest is," says Daphne. "But then you knew that. "

"So you don't know..." says Markku. "You've come here only because of me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, old man," says Daphne. "You know why we're here. We aren't interested in you. We're interested in whatever it is that you're after."

To hell with it. I take a bite of my muffin. A little colder than it would've been, but still good. Markku turns to look at me. I find the bite of muffin to be a little dry going down.

But it turns out he's not interested in muffins.

"Do you see what they're about? They wish to destroy that which they do not even understand."

LeClaire reaches across the table and grabs a muffin from the basket. He inspects it for a moment before setting it on his plate.

"Whereas you, old friend, seek the destruction of that which you do understand."

"I seek the destruction of nothing," says Markku. "And you and I are not friends."

LeClaire turns to me.

"You see the difficulty he has with simple human concepts such as irony."

Two things occur to me:

1. Leclaire's accent seems to have toned down quite a bit. What's up with that?

2. Why are they both directing their comments at me? Are they trying to convince me of something?

Taking matters firmly in hand, I sort of vaguely nod at both of them.

"But enough of this," says LeClaire. "Emmett, what has Markku told you are in these boxes before you? Where the choices that you're being asked to make?"

I shrug.

"You don't know?" asks Daphne.

"No."

"Well, then, how were you supposed to choose?"

I note with a certain amount of interest her use of the past tense. Daphne apparently assumes the game is over.

I shrug again.

"That part wasn't made clear. "

"It is not necessary," says Markku. "Instructions are given when they're needed."

"Right," I say, unsure as to why I would pursue any of this, but pursuing nonetheless. "But it seems to me that they are needed for this game. I have no idea what I'm choosing. "

It occurs to me that I probably should have raised this point earlier. But, jeez, you know how it is when people drop by unexpected…

"If you need instruction, it will be given to you. "

Daphne registers my puzzled expression.

"He means that he would step in and tell you what's in the boxes only if you started to pick the one or two he doesn't want you to pick. It's inefficient otherwise, giving you instructions you may not need."

Markku nods with satisfaction.

"my dear girl," he says," how is it that you understand so much, and yet understand so little?"

"I'm a human being," she says.

Markku turns to me again.

"That is a lie. You will note that I have not lied to you."

I wonder:

How would I know that?

And then I wonder:

Daphne isn't human? She looks pretty damn human to me. A fine, strapping example. And what about the Frenchman? For some reason, it's not nearly as upsetting for me if he isn't. Of course, he wasn't the one flirting with me, thank God.

And I say that in all sincerity.

Thank God.

I hear a voice that sounds remarkably like my own saying:

"But you yourself are not human."

Markku gives another little satisfied nod. It appears that Daphne and are vying for the coveted position of creature's pet.

"Even so," he says.

"So then, isn't your appearance here a lie? You're presenting yourself as a human being, but you're not one."

I have no idea what's got into me, unless maybe it's one of the newcomers influencing me in some way. Maybe not controlling me the way Markku did, but allowing the odd random thought to come in my head. Not to mention the even odder impulse to speak, but all I really want to do is remain very, very quiet.

It becomes immediately apparent that this comment will not foster any of those approving nods. The old man looks more than just a little peeved.

"I could easily lose patience with this entire conversation," he says. "That would be unfortunate."

"So then just tell us what's in the boxes," says Daphne.

"I will not. "

Daphne reaches across the table and takes hold of one of the boxes.

"Well maybe we should just take a peek," she says.

"Daphne..." says LeClaire.

"I advise against that," says Markku.

She flashes him a smile.

"Well, I'm just going to have to take that into consideration."

She starts to take a fingernail to the seal on the box, then turns to look at me.

"Sorry, Emmett, did you want to do the honors? And is this the box you would have picked?"

Annoyed, LeClaire gets up from his chair and takes the box from Daphne.

"Daphne, please. This is not helping. "

He turns to look at Markku, and tosses the box back on the table

"Of course, we want no part of whatever plans you had for Mr. Hamilton. "

"Then we are in agreement," says Markku.

"The best thing would be for you to take your boxes and simply leave."

Suddenly the French guy is my favorite. Because, you know what? That does, indeed, sound like the best thing. But I have this feeling that Captain Overcoat isn't going to go for it.

And then, amazingly, Markku stands up. He takes the box that LeClaire dropped and stacks it, along with the other two, neatly in front of himself on the table.

"I think it is not for you, or even for I, to say what is the best thing. You interrupted Mr. Hamilton in the middle of making a decision. It is his decision to make. It is, as you might say, his moment. So why don't we allow him to decide what would be best?"

Well, I like the sound of this, but maybe there's something a little fishy about it. Still, if he's going to leave it up to me ...

"That is an excellent suggestion," says LeClaire. "Emmett, would you like to decide whether Mr. Markku stays or goes?"

"Ah, sure. "

Why not? If they're really going to leave it up to me, I don't have too much trouble calling this one.

"Of course," says Markku," there are parameters."

"I don't think you're in any position to quote terms," says Daphne.

"And that is where you are absolutely incorrect," Markku replies. "Because the terms are already there. In place. And all that I will be doing is quoting them."

LeClaire studies Markku for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"What have you done, Nino?"

"I simply put assurances in place. Do you think me such a fool? That I would not know of the risk of interference from your kind? That I would not prepare for it?"

And now we have another impasse. Nobody says anything for a long, long a time. The silence is finally broken but the least likely person.

"So what does all this mean?" I ask.

For once, neither LeClaire or Miss Wong have an answer.

"It means," says Markku, "that you, Hamilton, will decide who stays and who leaves. But know this. I have bound my life to yours, and yours to mine. If I leave, you'll accompany me. And there is nothing they can do to prevent that. "

I look at LeClaire; he won't meet my eye.

"Is this true?" I ask.

"It ... could be," says Daphne.

"What you mean it could be? And if I go with him, where would I be going?"

"You only go with me if I leave," says Markku. "Or I could send you away alone; it would be better if we had that option, it's true. Or they could leave. "

If I thought for a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second that "sending me away alone" meant, like, sending me home or something, well that would definitely be the choice for me. But I have a feeling my destination would not be home. I have a feeling it would not be someplace I want to go.

I look at LeClaire again.

"Michel, can you prevent him from taking me away from here?"

He doesn't answer.

"Daphne?"

Poor Daphne looks very sad. Like she's sorry she let me down something. I almost want to tell her not to worry, that everything will be okay. That would be nice and all, but I really think it would be better if she would say something reassuring to me about right now.

"I think we can," she says.

She thinks. Oh, great, she thinks.

"And if you're wrong?"

She looks away.

It is, in one sense, a very difficult choice. But in a more obvious sense, it's a no-brainer.

"All right then. I'm sorry it has to work out this way. But here's the way it's going to work. I'm going to stay here."

I point at Markku

"And it's going to stay. "

I hate being left here alone with this thing. But at least I'll still be here.

I wave my hand broadly at the two of them.

"And you two are going to leave. "

"Emmett, please ..." LeClaire begins, but he has nothing else to say.

"Don't worry, Emmett," says Daphne. "We aren't leaving. You also have the choice of saying that no one leaves. "

"I'm afraid not," says Markku. "That is not one of his choices."

"Well, it doesn't matter," says Daphne. "We are not subject to your idiotic games. We're staying. "

"That is correct," says LeClaire. "We are staying. "

"I'm afraid not," Markku says again. "Hamilton, you have made your choice?"

I nod.

I hate this. Man, if I thought this sucked before, I had no idea what it really meant for a situation to suck. I mean really, really, suck.

"Then that is that," says Markku.

I think that Daphne is about to raise some other argument when she just... disappears. Actually, it isn't like a stage disappearance. None of that Poof! She's gone! stuff. She sort of turns gray and starts to shrink and recede without actually getting any farther away. She looks none too pleased by what's happening to her. In fact, before she blinks out altogether, she looks like she's in considerable pain.

And scared.

LeClaire stands there for a moment, agape. He then departs, too—under his own power, as far as I can tell. He also turns gray and recedes, but it seems to happen much faster with him.

Apparently, he hightailed it out of here.

I have to look down at my pants for a moment. This is kind of embarrassing, but just for a minute there I wasn’t sure as to whether I had wet them. But, no, they're okay.

Guess I'm just not entirely used to this sort of thing.

"Now," says Markku, who has spread the boxes back out in a neat row on the table," shall we continue?"