Free Assignment - Karachi by Edward S. Aarons Page A

with the impersonation.”
    “Nonsense. It is your duty to Sarah.”
    “But I—”
    “Put them on, please. At once.”
    She obeyed, and followed his tall figure through the crowd to where a low-slung, dark blue Ferrari was parked. He drove quickly, settling with a sigh of pleasure on the leather bucket seats. She sat as far from him as possible, twisted side-wise to watch his strong, rather brutal profile, to see the way the wind whipped his over-long hair in thick, ropy strands. She was appalled, because she still wanted him. The hot wind seared her face like a branding iron as they drove out Victoria Road. A few lights glowed in the shop windows now, against the deepening early dusk.
    “Don’t drive so fast, Rudi,” she said. “Please.” “One must face life boldly,” he said. “One must be ready for defeat as well as victory, Jane. I gather you wish to speak to me of our personal relationship.”
    “Yes.”
    “I told you before, again and again, it is over.”
    “But it isn’t, unfortunately,” she said.
    “I am not responsible for any further problems.”
    “But you are. And I need your help.”
    “Do you want to go home, back to the States? Is that it?” “No, I can’t go home.”
    “You want money, then? For a doctor?”
    She was startled. “You know I’m—going to have a child?” “You are a stupid, naive girl. Of course I know. With a type such as you, it was inevitable, I suppose. I should have known better, in the first place. But I needed you.” His voice was cold. “However, now I am going to marry Sarah Standish.”
    “No,” she said, and the firm harshness of her voice was almost like an outcry. “No, you’re not.”
    “You plan to tell her about us?”
    “If I must.”
    “What do you want of me?”
    She twisted her gloved hands in her lap, not knowing how to reply. What did she want? He did not care a pin for her, perhaps he never had. He had used her to be introduced to Sarah, that was all, and now he was finished with her. But it couldn’t be all over for herself. She thought of all her dreams, her future with him idealized, the letters she had planned to write home to Poppa and Momma about him. Useless to try to bend life itself to fit such dreams. But how could she answer him? She did not know what she wanted.
    “I will give you money and find a doctor for you,” Rudi said. “You will tell Miss Standish you are sick. The doctor will co-operate. You can stay here in Karachi until the matter is settled.”
    “I won’t do it,” she said. “It’s sinful. I won’t lose the child.” “Don’t be stupid. It is all I can offer. You must agree.” “No.”
    He said bluntly, “Very well. It shall be as you wish.” “What do you mean?”
    “We will have to settle it my way, entirely.”
    The Ferrari, she noticed, had slowed to a crawl. When had they left the bright and busy Victoria Road? She could not remember turning off. But now she saw loading cranes, warehouses, low tin roofs glimmering in the red rays of the sullen, setting sun. They were near the West Wharf area. The smell of the ancient Indus River, carrying with it the waste of a continent, touched her offensively. The car laboriously threaded its way down a narrow street of yellowed houses, a Chinese quarter of teashops, bazaars, tall and leaning Arab tenements. The narrow street was crowded with cycles, a tonga , and two haltered camels. As they halted for a moment, someone opened a window above and emptied a bucket of filthy water into the street. It splashed heavily on the driver of the two-wheeled tonga cart. Instantly the air was shrill with imprecations between Punjabi and Arab, the driver shaking his fist and screaming, the man above in the window looking down at the other’s rage with impassive eyes. A small crowd began to gather as the Punjabi tonga driver started bellicosely for the tenement door, and Rudi clucked in annoyance. But order was quickly restored by two uniformed policemen who