The Stranger - Max Frei [84]
Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli was waiting for me in the Hall of Common Labor—unruffled, dependable, as always. He was noting down something in his “work diary” so as not to waste time. Looking at him, I livened up a bit.
“Are you ready to become my victim, Sir Shurf?”
“Victim? Sir Max, you clearly overestimate the significance of the impending event,” he objected phlegmatically. “Believe me, I have no cause for alarm—and you even less.”
“Well, thanks for the reassurance.”
And I made a motion with my left hand, undetectable to the prying eyes of others. Lonli-Lokli disappeared. In theory, I knew that he hadn’t disappeared, but was to be found between the thumb and the index finger of my hand. But this useful knowledge somehow didn’t fit into my head.
“Dandy, Mr. Nightmare!” Melifaro beamed, emerging from his office. “Tell me, might you not be persuaded to keep him there for the next two hundred years or so?”
“Lady Lonli-Lokli would object, and I wouldn’t want to grieve her,” I replied, smiling. “And why are you here so early?”
“Juffin woke me up. Sent me a message that he wouldn’t be here before midday. He ordered me to see you off. He wants me dead! Usually he’s here at the crack of dawn, but today . . . Well, there you are.”
“He’s hiding from me,” I informed him proudly.
“From you? You’re making progress! To my knowledge (and I do know something about the history of the Unified Kingdom), Juffin Hully hasn’t hidden from anyone for the past one hundred years. Well, in the Epoch of Orders there was a case—and it wasn’t the only one. Then again, everyone ran from each other during the Epoch of Orders. How did you scare him?” asked Melifaro and sat down in front of me.
“Give me some kamra and I’ll tell you,” I said, crossing my feet and placing them carefully on the table. It’s frightening to think of the number of dumb movies that inspired me to assume this pose. “You’re here to see me off, so you must see to it that I leave here happy. Thus, you must bribe me with every possible means at your disposal.”
“Well, that’s the limit! Bribing a jailbird!” Melifaro grumbled. “Fine. Take advantage of my generosity.” He sauntered into the office and brought out a jug of kamra and two mugs of completely improbable dimensions.
“So why is our ‘Sir Venerable Head’ running away from you?”
“I ask too many questions. Actually, that’s why he decided to stick me in Xolomi.”
“Oh, is that all? Questions! And here I was thinking that yesterday you tried to get him drunk on Elixir of Horse Dung, the national drink of your Barren Lands.”
“That actually did happen,” I admitted. “But Juffin said that his Diurnal Backside usually does the dirty work. Thanks for reminding me—I’ll have to treat you to some!”
“No thanks!” Melifaro screwed up his face in anxious trepidation, and he shot into his office like a bullet. Several times he peeped out timidly; then the joke grew stale, and he returned.
I killed another half-hour in this pleasant manner. Lady Melamori, for whose sake I was dragging it out, didn’t appear. Finally, I got behind the wheel of the amobiler and set off for Xolomi to turn myself in.
“I see you as though in a waking dream!” The senior commander of Xolomi covered his eyes respectfully, in the ritual of a first meeting. “I’m happy to speak my name: Sir Marunarx Antarop.”
I introduced myself, and they led me off to be served breakfast.
“You’re so skinny, Sir Max! They really work you hard in the Secret Investigative Force. I know all about it! You need to eat more!” Sir Marunarx exclaimed, refilling my plate over and over again. “Never mind. You’ll fill out here with us, I promise you that!”
The sumptuous breakfast was suspiciously reminiscent of a formal banquet. The commander fussed over me like a doting uncle. I thought I was going to prison, but it looked like I had ended up in a resort. And so, it turned out, I had.
“Whew, I’ve already filled out! By about ten pounds,” I