Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [155]
"Get what over with, feller?"
"E-eating me." Lafayette managed to force the words out.
"Me—eat you?" Crunch echoed. "Hey, you got me wrong, pal. I wouldn't eat no guy which he saved my neck like you done."
O'Leary opened one eye. "You mean—you're not going to tear me limb from limb?"
"Why would I wanta do a thing like that?"
"Never mind," Lafayette said, sinking down to the floor with a deep sigh of relief. "Some subjects are better left uninvestigated." He drew a deep breath and pulled himself together, looked up at the tall figure peering down at him concernedly.
"Look—if you want to do me a favor, let's start by figuring out a way out of here."
Crunch scratched at his scalp with a forefinger the size of a hammer handle.
"Well, lessee . . ."
"We might try to tunnel through the wall," O'Leary said, poking at the mortar between the massive stone blocks. "But that would take steel tools and several years." He scanned the dark interior of the cell. "There might be a trapdoor in the ceiling . . ."
Crunch shook his head. "I been ducked under that ceiling for a week. It's solid oak, four inches thick."
"Well . . . maybe the floor . . ."
"Solid rock, six inches thick."
Lafayette spent ten minutes examining floor, walls, and door. He leaned disconsolately against the bars. "I may as well admit it," he said. "I'm licked. Krupkin will force Swinehild to do his bidding, Adoranne will wind up scraping grease off pots here in Port Miasma, Goruble will take over Artesia, and Daphne—Daphne will probably be dumped here when Lady Andragorre goes to Artesia, and if Rodolpho doesn't get her, Lorenzo the Lucky—or is it Lancelot the Lanky?—will."
"Hey—I got a idear," Crunch said.
"Just lie down and take a nap, Crunch," O'Leary said listlessly. "There's nothing else to do."
"Yeah, but—"
"It's just self-torture to go on thinking about it. Maybe the best bet would be for you to disassemble me after all."
"Hey, how's about if—"
"I should have known it would end up here. After all, I've been bouncing in and out of jails ever since I got to Melange; it was inevitable that I'd end in one eventually."
"I mean, it ain't a fancy scheme, but what the heck," Crunch said.
"What scheme?" O'Leary inquired dully.
"What I was trying to tell you. My plan."
"All right. Tell me."
"Well, what I was thinking—but naw, I guess you want something with a little more class—like with secret tunnels and all."
"You may as well get it off your chest, Crunch."
"Well, I'm just spitballing, mind youse—but, ah, how's about if I rip the door off its hinges?"
"If you ri—" Lafayette turned to gaze at the massive welded-steel construction. He laughed hollowly.
"Sure, go ahead."
"O.K." Crunch stepped past him, gripped the thick bars. He set his size seventeens, took a deep breath, and heaved. There was a tentative screech of metal, followed by sharp snapping sounds. A lump of stone popped from the wall and dropped to the floor. With a rending sound comparable to that which might be produced by two Rolls-Royces sideswiping each other, the grating buckled, bent inward, and tore free of its mountings. Crunch tossed it aside with a deafening crash and wiped his palms on the seat of his leather pants.
"Nothing to it, chum," he said. "What's next?"
There was no one in the torture chamber when Lafayette, freed of his manacles by a deft twist of Crunch's wrists, and his large companion made their way there along the torchlit passage, past cells through the barred doors of which wild-haired and wild-eyed inmates gaped, gibbered, or grabbed.
"That's bad," Lafayette said. "I was counting on Groanwelt helping us."
"Hey, this is kinda cute," Crunch said, hefting a set of razor-edged cutters designed for trimming up ears and noses. "I been needing some cuticle scissors."
"Listen, Crunch, we need a plan of action," O'Leary said. "It won't do us any good to just go blundering out of here and wind up back in chains. The palace is swarming with guards, Rodolpho's regular staff plus Goruble's strongarm squad. We need a diversion—something to distract attention