Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [134]
Lafayette emerged from under the bed in a rush. As he leaped to his feet, the owner of the boots—a tall, lean, courtier type in the pre-middle-aged group—spun, grabbing for his sword hilt, staring wildly over, past, and through O'Leary. Behind Chauncy, Daphne—or Lady Andragorre—bare-shouldered in a petticoat, stood on one shapely leg, massaging the toes of the other foot. Lafayette reached out, lifted the man's chin to the optimum angle, and delivered a sizzling right hook which sent the fellow staggering back to bounce off the wall and pitch forward on his face.
"Chauncy!" the lady whispered, watching his trajectory. "What—how—why—?"
"I'll teach that lecher to sneak around ladies' bedrooms helping them with their buttons," Lafayette said, advancing on the half-clad girl. "And as for you, I'm ashamed of you, leading that gigolo on!"
"I hear your voice . . . oh, beloved—I can hear you—but I can't see you! Where are you? You're not . . . you're not a ghost?"
"Far from it!" Lafayette pulled the cloak back from his back. "I'm flesh and blood, all right, and all I have to say about this spectacle is—"
The lady stared for a moment into O'Leary's face; then her eyes turned up. With a sigh, she crumpled onto the old rose rug.
"Daphne!" Lafayette blurted. "Wake up! I forgive you! But we have to get out of here in a hurry!" As O'Leary bent over her, there was a thunderous pounding at the door.
"There's a man in there!" an irate voice yelled from outside. "All right, men—break it down!"
"Hold your horses, Sarge—I got a key—"
"You heard me!" There was a thunderous crash that shook the door in its frame, the sound of heavy bodies rebounding.
"So, OK, we use the key." Lafayette slipped his arms under the unconscious girl and lifted her, staggered to the heavy hangings against the wall, and slid behind them as the lock clicked, the latch turned, the door banged wide. Three large men in cerise coats with lace at wrist and chin, tight cream-colored pants, and drawn swords plunged into the room and skidded to a halt.
They stared, then cautiously prowled the room.
"Hey! The place is empty," a man said.
"There's ain't nobody here," a second added.
"Yeah, but we heard voices, remember?"
"So we made a mistake."
"Either that, or .."
"Or we're all going crackers."
"Or else the joint is haunted."
"Well, I got to be getting back to my pinochle game," a private said, backing toward the door.
"Stand fast, you," the NCO barked. "I'll say when we get back to the pinochle game!"
"Yeah? You want to wait around and shake hands with the Headless Hostler?"
"And like you said, it's time we was getting back to the pinochle game," the sergeant finished sternly. "Let's go."
Three sets of footsteps retreated cautiously toward the door. As they reached it, Lafayette, standing behind the curtain inhaling the perfume of the girl in his arms, heard a preliminary crackle from his sword hilt.
"Oh, no," he breathed.
"Butterfly to Flapjack," a testy voice sounded from near his left elbow. "What's going on, Flapjack? You haven't reported for over five minutes now!"
"Over there," a tense voice said. "Behind them drapes."
"Flapjack? Report!"
"Shut up, you blabbermouth!" Lafayette hissed in the general direction of his left hip, and sidestepped as the curtains were rudely torn aside.
"Chee!" the man who stood there said, staring wide-eyed at Lafayette's burden.
"Coo," said the comrade peering over his shoulder, and ran a thick pink tongue along his lower lip like one recovering a crumb of icing.
"Holy Moses," said the third. "She's . . . she's floating in midair, like!"
"She—she got little teeny rosebuds embroidered on her undies," the first man said. "Think o' that, fellers!"
"Walking or floating, them are the neatest curves a guy ever seen," his comrade stated.
"Hey—she's floating toward the balcony doors, boys!" a man blurted as O'Leary edged sideways. "Block the way!"
As the three palace guards spread out, O'Leary tried a play around left end, gained two yards, delivered