Ospedale San Callisto, Rome, October 31, 1997

A white Greco-Roman wedding cake of a building, the Ospedale San Callisto commanded spacious grounds in the suburbs some fifteen miles to the west of Rome. Jack parked his rented Fiat, courteously opened the passenger door for Louise, and together they walked through the avenue of slender cypress trees to the portico of the building.

As they climbed the marble steps, Jack said, "You know, you don't have to come in. You can wait in the car."

"It's my business as much as yours," she answered. It was true: It was why she had come back to Rome with him, and why she's left Dory looking after Billy back in Chicago.

Their footsteps echoed over the immaculate polished floor of the admissions area, and after presenting themselves to the white uniformed receptionist they were invited to sit on hard plastic chairs. Sunlight flooded through a floor-to-ceiling window, flaring on sterile marble surfaces. They waited in silence.

A doctor carrying a clipboard emerged from shadows at the far end of a long corridor. His approach was interminable and his shoes squeaked at every step. He greeted them rather solemnly, motioning them to follow him all the way back along the immense corridor and up an impressive flight of marble stairs. The doctor sniffed once or twice as if trying to clear up one of his nostrils. A couple of patients who were chatting on the stairs stopped conversing abruptly and stared at the visitors.

Guessing Jack's thoughts, the doctor said, "It's not a secure hospital. We don't restrict the patients. We have a kind of a solarium, a sunroom. She likes to sit there. All day if we let her.

At last he opened a door to the sunroom. At first Jack thought the room was empty. The south-facing window was a gallery-style fretwork of decorative iron and glass. White wicker chairs, on the edge of the seat, peering out the window, wearing Levi's jeans and a white T-shirt. Perhaps he'd expected her barefoot and in a straitjacket.

"Buon Giorno, Natalie!" the doctor called, suddenly jolly. The woman didn't stir. He approached her, stroking her hair lightly from behind. "Today we got some visitors!" She glanced over her shoulder at them, and stood up. "I'll leave you alone," said the doctor, retreating. "I'll be around."

The young woman stepped forward. "Tim?"

She was skeletally thin, and her eyes were permanently narrowed, as if to shield herself from too much light. Her brown hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, though she freed it and shook it loose as she faced them.

"No, I'm not - " Jack started to say, but she pressed a finger to her lips and hissed loudly. She moved across the room and, taking Louise's hand, slowly and luxuriously sniffed the back of it. Then she bent down and began sniffing Louise's knee. Louise didn't flinch as the woman sniffed the length of her thigh and around her crotch, keeping her nose just an inch from the fabric of Louise's skirt. Satisfied, she moved over to Jack, sniffing at his waist, ten his flank, and, finally, almost but not quite nuzzling his armpit. Jack could only glance at Louise in desperation.

"My name is Jack Chambers. Tim was my father. This is Louise, his daughter."

"You're drenched in it," the woman said.

"In what?"

"Indigo. Wolf gland. Both of you. Mostly you. Is he coming? Is Tim coming?" She began circling Jack, very slowly.

"Tim died," said Jack. "He died a while ago. Anyway, he left you some money. I'm here to see that you get it."

"Do you know where they all went?"

"Who? Where who went?"

"All of them. There were lots of us. Then there was only me. I thought you'd come here to tell me where they all went. It's been such a disappointment. To be the only one." She blew gently, steadily, on Jack's face. Then she moved over to Louise, and began circling again.

"Natalie," said Louise, "do you know where you are?"

Natalie recoiled slightly seeming to find the question patronizing and stupid. "Of course. I'm in Indigo. Which is why you can't see me."