Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [156]
"Hey!" a reedy voice yelled from a side passage. "I demand a lawyer! I want to see the American consul! I have a right to make a phone call!"
"That sounds like Lorenzo . . ."
Lafayette trotted along to the cell from which the shouts had come. A nattily Vandycked and moustached fellow with an Edgar Allan Poe haircut and a high, stiff collar by Hoover out of Napoleon was gripping the bars with well-manicured hands.
"You, there . . ." His voice trailed off. "Say, don't I know you?"
"Lorenzo?" Lafayette eyed the other. "Got caught after all, eh? The last I saw of you, you were leaving me in the lurch with a free run ahead, but of course you blew it. And where'd you get the beaver and the fancy outfit?"
"Don't babble," the prisoner snapped in the same annoying fashion Lafayette had listened to in the dark cell under the Glass Tree. "My name's Lafcadio, not that it's any of your business. Say, who are you, anyway? I'd swear we've met somewhere . . ."
"This is no time to play games," Lafayette snapped. "Crunch and I broke out. I'm going to make a try for the Lady Andragorre, but—"
"You mean Cynthia, I suppose. Are you in on this fantastic plot too? Well, you won't get away with it! And stay away from my fiancée—"
"I thought her name was Beverly. But let's skip that. If I get you out, will you help create a diversion to cover my movements?"
"Just get me out," the bearded inmate yelped. "We can talk about terms later."
"Crunch!" Lafayette called. "See to this door, will you?" He went on along the passage. Most of the prisoners slumped on their straw pallets, but a few watched him with alert eyes.
"Listen, men," he called. "We're breaking out! If I free you, will you promise to run amok in the corridors, attack the guards, smash things, yell, and generally commit a nuisance?"
"Hey—you're on, mister!"
"That's for me!"
"Count me in!"
"Swell." Lafayette hurried back to instruct Crunch. Moments later the giant was busily dismantling the cellblock. Bushy-bearded villains of all degrees of dishevelment crowded into the torture chamber. Lafayette caught a glimpse of Lorenzo, now minus his disguise. He pushed through to him.
"Listen, why don't you and I work together . . ." He paused, staring at his former roommate, who was staring back with a puzzled expression on his features—features which O'Leary was seeing clearly in an adequate light for the first time.
"Hey," Crunch boomed. "I thought you went thataway, palsy . . ." He broke off. "Uh . . ." He hesitated, looking from Lafayette to the other man. "Say, maybe I'm losing my bite—but which one o' youse birds is my pal which we just sprung out together?"
"I'm Lafayette," O'Leary spoke up. "This is Lorenzo—"
"Nonsense, my name is Lothario—and I never saw this pithecanthropus before in my life." He looked Crunch up and down.
"Why'n'cha say youse had a twin brother?" Crunch inquired.
"Twin brother?" both men said as one.
"Yeah. And listen, little chum: what was you doing dressed up in buckskins and knee boots? What are youse, a quick-change artist?"
Lafayette was staring at Lorenzo's—or Lothario's—clothing: a skin-tight doublet and hose, topped by a brocaded tailcoat and a ruffled shirt, all much the worse for wear.
"He doesn't look like me," he said indignantly. "Oh, there might be some superficial resemblance—but I don't have that feckless look, that irresponsible expression—"
"Me look like you?" the other was exclaiming. "You haven't known me long enough to be handing out insults. Now, where's the nearest imperial transfer booth? You can depend on it, I'm turning in a report to my PR rep that will clean out this whole nest of hebephrenics before you can say 'noblesse oblige!'"
"You there!" A shout cut through the hubbub. "Lafayette!" He turned. A man identical but for clothing to the one with whom he was conversing was pushing through the press toward him, waving his arm. Lafayette whirled. The man who had called himself Lothario was gone in the milling crowd.
"How did you get here?"