Read Online Galaxy's Edge Magazine: Issue 2, May 2013 by et al. Mike Resnick - Free Book Online

is, I am not sure,” Josefina said. She’d offered me a plate of grilled beef with peppers and onions, which I ate thankfully, not having had food since sipping a cup of bitter coffee at mid-morning.
    “ Her? ” I said, somewhat surprised.
    “She was an Anglo Normal, mid-forties.”
    “Did Elvira ever talk about this person?”
    “Yes, because this woman never actually wanted sex.”
    “Is that unusual?”
    “It happens. Some clients come in simply for the vicarious thrill of being around a Special. We’re fascinating to them.”
    “This anglo Normal, she was one of these?”
    “Yes. She would request Elvira in two-hour blocks. She adored real flamingos, apparently. She and Elvira would sit together on the bed of the suite, and the Anglo…she would stroke Elvira’s body and wings affectionately, and just talk about her life. Her hectic middle-management work. Her grown sons. Her ex-husband, who apparently divorced her in disgust when he discovered she had a thing for Specials and had been surreptitiously using family funds to begin exploring the Special world on-line. That’s how she found out about the Aerie, apparently, and when Madam Arquette put up the listing for The Flamingo Suite, this woman was an instant customer.”
    “So why’d she stop coming all of a sudden?”
    “I don’t know,” Josefina said, nibbling at her own food.
    “If this woman spent so much time talking to Elvira, did you sister ever talk back? I mean, about her own life?”
    “I don’t know, but I wonder. Elvira was only twenty. About the same age as this woman’s children. Elvira always needed to trust people.”
    “Is it possible Elvira told this woman things she wouldn’t tell you?”
    “What do you mean?” Josefina’s fork suddenly stopped moving.
    “Not to question your relationship with your sister. It’s just been my experience that siblings, even close siblings, don’t always share everything with each other, whether they realize it or not. And as the saying goes, a man will tell things to a bartender he’d never tell his wife. This Anglo Normal, she’s a question mark for me. She might know something which could tell us more about why Elvira died.”
    “Speaking of which,” Josefina said, “the police tell me that an examination to determine exactly what killed Elvira is still pending. Does it normally take this long?”
    “When there are no obvious wounds,” I said, “things can get complicated. I called the coroner and made some polite inquiries. Elvira was a healthy young Special. Something was done to her, that much we can be certain of. What that something was is another matter entirely. Try to be patient. Meanwhile, is there any way possible for you to find out who this Anglo customer was? Does she come back to visit any of the other Specials, male or female?”
    “I can try to find out tonight, when I am working.”
    We chewed in mutual silence for several minutes.
    “If your daughter told you she wanted to go Special,” Josefina said, “what would your reaction be?”
    Now it was my fork that had suddenly stopped moving. My Angela was fifteen, and headstrong like Carlita. Last summer, Carlita had let Angela spend the summer with me, when it was my younger son Adam I’d wanted to have. I’d learned quickly it was because Angela was officially hell on wheels, and we’d scrapped it out for three months, before she’d finally gone home to Carlita in disgust—and with my blessing. I tried to imagine Angela showing up at my door in two more years, transformed into God knew what. Hi Pop! It’s me, your little girl!
    I must have visibly shuddered, because Josefina put her fork down and wiped her mouth, then stood up quickly.
    “You can see yourself to the door.”
    “Wait, I’m sorry, I—”
    “I’ll see what I can find out for you about the Anglo. Goodnight, Señor.”
    My plate unfinished, I clumsily stood up and made my way out.
    ***
    I was making the mistake of giving a damn, that