Chapter Eleven

 

            After straining to keep the grossly swollen moon in sight for as long as possible, Lafayette at length submitted to being led off along the dark street; then there were lights, people—ordinary-looking, well-dressed folk who seemed to take little notice of an apparent drunk being led along the sidewalk by his friends. Then they were tugging him through a revolving door, which thumped him on the back and propelled him into warmth, quiet music, the babble of table-chatter and the clink of dishes, and a heavenly aroma of roast beef, fried onions, fresh-baked bread and newly ground coffee. At once, O'Leary found himself taking an interest; he hadn't noticed how hungry he was until that moment. A head waiter appeared, impersonally obsequious.

 

            "Table for three," Lafayette said briskly. "In a quiet corner where we can't hear the kitchen or the combo."

 

            Moments later, the trio was seated at a cozy table agleam with white linen, polished silver, and sparkling glass. A waiter materialized and took their orders.

 

            "Marv," O'Leary said to his whiskery companion. " How did you find me?"

 

            "I never," Marv said quickly. "You found me. I was just standing there, and you come up and—"

 

           

 

            "I know that, Marv," Lafayette cut him off. "But how did you happen to be on the corner for me to find?"

 

            "I had a hard day," Marv complained. "Shot at, roughed up, throwed in the slammer—and they stuck needles in me, some kinda dope; made me groggy. But I done a sneak and beat it. Din't know where to go; just taking a, like, break when ya come along."

 

            "What about you, Mickey Jo?" Lafayette transferred his attention to the girl. "Why did you come in as soon as I sat down?"

 

            "Laugh," she replied seriously, "what were them pitchers you had? Looked like somebody getting coronated or something."

 

            "Ask Marv," Lafayette replied. "He was in one of them."

 

            The girl looked at Marv. "That's right," she acknowledged. "It must have been a big affair, Marv; tell me about it. How did you happen to be there?"

 

            "Don't know whacha mean," Marv muttered. "What pitchers you talking about?"

 

            "They were addressed to 'Global Presentations', in the Bayberry Building. Ever heard of it?"

 

            "Not me," Marv dismissed the subject. "How'd you get these here pitchers, Al?"

 

            "I'm afraid I stole 'em," O'Leary admitted.

 

            "Cheese," Marv exclaimed softly. "A straight-up guy like you, Al, it ain't like you to steal nothing. What'd you do with the loot?"

 

            "I'm afraid I left it at Special Ed's," Lafayette said.

 

            "Spose he turns you in?" Marv speculated.

 

            "Don't be silly," Mickey Jo put in. "Ed's no stoolie, and anyway, how'd he know they was stole?"

 

            "Uh-oh," Marv said, his eyes on the entry behind Lafayette and Mickey Jo. "Looks like Ed finked."

 

            O'Leary turned as if casually and saw three harness bulls shouldering through the door, eyes alert, hands on pistol butts. They hurried across to a table in a far corner, bent in earnest consultation with a plain-looking gray-haired woman. After a brief conference, the three cops made their way to the kitchen doors and passed from view.

 

            "Some rich dame who didn't like the service, eh?" Marv cracked. Then their waiter arrived with a bustle.

 

-

 

            "This is the life," Lafayette said, inhaling expansively over a bowl of meaty soup which he knew was a mere hint of delights to come. "Relaxing in a cozy eatery with an old pal and a pretty girl: that's what I should be doing, not being chased all over a dozen continua by an assortment of shady characters. That last pair: Fred, from the fishpond, and his boss Mel. They had big plans for me. Well, I've broken the pattern at last, and already things are looking up. Marv, I was really surprised when I looked out that window and saw you, of all people, in this strange place. And you seemed to expect me: you looked right at me."

 

            "Never seen you, Al," Marv grated. "Just looking around, like; then I got fed up and taken off; and then I got to thinking maybe I better stick around a little longer, so I come back. After all, the message was pretty clear: corner of Main and Sioux, at five pee-em sharp—"

 

            "What message?" Lafayette cut in. "Maybe I'm not as clear as I thought if somebody knew I'd be there."

 

            "You know, Al, your message," Marv said around a mouthful of soup.

 

            "I didn't send any message," Lafayette said between spoonfuls.

 

            "Sure, you know," Marv urged. "When I come outa the dungeon after I clobbered old Cease, I seen it right away. Old Shurf was gone, so I didn't have him to contend with and all. Stuck on the wall, right where a feller'd see it: a arrer pointing at the wall and right under it, FOLLOW ME was wrote, kind of shaky, which I guess you was in a hurry. I never knowed what it meant, but I give it a try—and I fell right through that solid wall!" Marv shook his head wonderingly. "Then I thought I was a bird, sailing troo the air, like. After a while I landed in some kind of hospital, like, and they worked me over until I got loose—and here I am. Uh, I forgot, the old lady in the hospital slips me the word you'd be on this here corner. So I come over and see nothing of you, Al, but like I said, I waited around, and here you are!"

 

            "It seems to me, Marv," Lafayette said offhandedly, "that for a fellow from a simple, unspoiled locus like Aphasia, you take all this pretty calmly—even the city here. Even though it's only a hick town like Colby Corners, it must be a lot bigger than anything you ever saw back in Aphasia."

 

            "I dunno," Marv replied, equally casually. "I been around some, you know, Al."

 

            "That message bothers me," Lafayette confessed. "It means somebody's still one jump ahead of me."

 

            "Unless he's lying," Mickey Jo said sweetly. Marv's head jerked. "Hey," he said weakly. "Who you calling a liar?"

 

            "I just said 'if', Mickey Jo asserted soothingly.

 

            "Never mind; Sheriff Tode might have left that sign on the wall," O'Leary commented. "I didn't. Apparently Tode went through the same soft spot you did. I ran into him later, at Prime HQ."

 

            "I don't get it," Mickey Jo put in. "You guys talk like walking through a wall is routine."

 

            "Somehow," Lafayette hazarded, "using the flat-walker must have left a temporary permeable area in the wall. I don't know if that's usual, or not. I guess I should have found out a little more about the gadgets from Ajax before I used them—and that reminds me: Ajax gave me an address on Canal—but I didn't show up. Instead, I met Mickey Jo," Lafayette said, smiling at the girl. "And I'm really glad I did. But I wanted to ask you: Who did you think I was? You apparently assumed I was somebody you more or less expected, asked me about the job I was on, assumed I knew the bartender, and had an expense account, and so on. Who did you think I was?"

 

            Mickey Jo looked at him helplessly. "I don't think we should discuss that in public, do you, sir?" she said in a strained voice quite different from her usual carefree tones.

 

            "There's nobody here but Marv," O'Leary replied comfortingly.

 

            "And by the way, why did the Ajax rep you mentioned tell you to go to Canal?" the girl asked, looking around as if she expected to see the answer to her question closing in from all sides.

 

            "I assume there'll be an Ajax contact there," Lafayette admitted doubtfully. "But to heck with that, for now. First, let's enjoy our dinner."

 

            "She's right, Al," Marv put in. "How you gonna find this Daphne dame if you don't make contact?"

 

            "I'm perfectly willing—" Lafayette began, but was cut off as the side wall of the spacious room burst inward, propelled by a wall of water which churned tables, chairs, and patrons together as it thundered toward the little group in the quiet corner. Lafayette felt his ears pop and quickly employed the Valsalva maneuver to equalize pressure. Marv was on his feet, yelling. Mickey Jo fell against Lafayette, her face next to his. It was a long, chaos-filled moment before he realized she was saying something:

 

            "Use the flat-walker. Raf trass spoit."

 

            He fumbled the Ajax device from his pocket even as the foaming flood engulfed him. He put it to his mouth, said, "Ajax—emergency! Get me out of here!" before he choked on a mouthful of muddy water. Through the translucent gray-green swirl, he saw a rectangle of gray light, struck out for it, slid easily into open air, and lay gasping on the faded carpet. Frumpkin came up out of his chair with a yelp of surprise and stood over Lafayette, looking down at him balefully.

 

            "You're spoiling everything," he said mournfully. "Now I'll have to relocate my Prime Vault."

 

            "I've heard of that," Lafayette said, coughing. "It blew up."

 

            Frumpkin waved that away. "Not really. Just a small Schrödinger collapse; a diversionary tactic, you see. That was while I was still vulnerable, when Belarius attached himself to me—or so he thought."

 

            "Where is this place?" Lafayette demanded. He got to his feet and looked about for a window, but the long, dim expanses of wallpaper were unperforated except for the door behind him.

 

            "Ah, that is a question, eh, my lad?" Frumpkin said unctuously. "I fear you'll have to come to terms, Lafayette. Unless you put an end to your resistance, I fear you shall never find the headquarters."

 

            "What resistance?" Lafayette demanded. "All I want to do is get back home with Daphne and go on having a swell life."

 

            "Precisely. Your conceptualizations of the swell life are no longer viable, Lafayette. You must accept the new order—willingly."

 

            O'Leary rounded on him truculently. "If your 'new order' means I'm supposed to like being kidnapped, thrown in dungeons, kicked from pillar to post, and kept in the dark about what's going on, you can forget it. Just call Daphne in, and we'll leave quietly."

 

            Frumpkin snapped his fingers, and at once Daphne rose from the depths of a nearby overstuffed chair and came to stand before Frumpkin, seeming not to see O'Leary.

 

            "Are you ill-treated, my dear?" Frumpkin asked her silkily.

 

            She shook her head. "No, but that's not the point."

 

            "Ah, the point, actually, is survival, eh, Dame Edith?" Frumpkin prompted. He turned to Lafayette. "As you can see, this young lady, by any name, is quite content."

 

            "Daphne!" Lafayette cried; he took a step toward her but was thrown back by an invisible but resilient barrier; then the light faded abruptly.