Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [177]
Hesitantly, he fingered an ear, poked at his cheek, writhed his lips. The mirrored face aped every action.
"Zorito, why are you weegling your leeps?" Gizelle inquired anxiously. "You aren't goeeing to have a feet, are you?"
"Who knows?" he said, with a hollow laugh, fingering a lean but tough biceps. "I seem to be stuck with someone else's body; it might have anything from paresis to angina pectoris. I suppose I'll find out as soon as the first attack strikes."
"You are a naughty boy, Zorito, not to tell me you are a seek man," Gizelle said reproachfully. "But eet's OK—I'll marry you eenyway. Eet weel be fun while you last." She kissed him warmly. "I won't be a meenute," she breathed as she slid through into the next room with a soft clash of beads.
Dimly through the curtain he saw her toss a garment aside with a deft motion; saw the soft ivory glow of her skin in the colored light.
"Why don't you get comfortable?" she called softly. "And pour us a glass of blackberry wine. Eet's een the cupboard over the Ouija board."
"I've got to get out of here," Lafayette mumbled, averting his eyes from the alluring vision. "Daphne would never understand the Law of the Tribe." He tiptoed to the door, had his hand on the knob when Gizelle's soft voice spoke behind him:
"Seely—that's not the cupboard. The door beside eet!" He turned; she stood in the doorway, clad in an invisible negligee.
"Oh, of course. My amnesia, you know," he jerked his hand back.
"Amnesia, nothing," she snapped. "You don't theenk I eve let eeny man eento my bedroom before, do you?"
"No offense," Lafayette said quickly, forcing his gaze from her figure to the corner of the room.
Gizelle giggled. "Oh, boy, what a surprise eef you'd stepped out there and run eento Borako. The sight of you would drive heem mad weeth jealousy."
"Maybe I'd better just go out and have a word with him," Lafayette suggested.
"Don't overdo the hero routine, my Zorito. Borako ees steel the tribal champ weeth a knife, even eef you deed accidentally treep heem up. Better geev heem time to cool off . . ." She came to him, slipped her arms around his neck. "Now you better kees me, before I cool off, my lover!"
"Ah . . . mmnnn," Lafayette said as their lips met. "I just remembered something I have to do—"
Gizelle made a swift movement; the knife glittered under Lafayette's nose.
"I theenk you remember the wrong theengs at the wrong time, beeg boy," she said in a tone like a torn metal. "Better geet weeth the program!"
"Do you . . . carry that knife all the time?" O'Leary inquired, edging away from it.
"As long as I have one leetle wisp on to hide eet een," she said sweetly.
"Oh," Lafayette said. "In that case—I mean, ah . . ."
"You forgot the wine," Gizelle said. She brushed past him, took out a purple bottle and two long-stemmed glasses, poured them full.
"To our wedded blees," she murmured and sipped. "What's the matter, you don't dreenk?" she asked sharply as Lafayette hesitated.
"Uh—to wedded bliss," he said, and drank. "And now, why don't we, ah, repair to the, er, nuptial couch?"
Gizelle giggled.
"I'll turn off the light," Lafayette said, and quickly snuffed the candle.
"What's the matter, you don't like to look at me?" Gizelle pouted. "You theenk I'm ugly?"
"I'm afraid of a heart attack," Lafayette said. "Can I, ah, help you with your, er, garment?"
"As you weesh, carissimo," she breathed. Lafayette's fingers brushed satin skin; then he was holding the wispy negligee. Something heavier than sheer silk thumped against his knee; the knife, in a thin leather sheath.
"Now—take me, my Zorito—I am yours!"
"Uh, I'd better make sure the door's locked," Lafayette said, backing away from the sound of her voice.
"Don't worry about trifles at a time like theese!" she whispered urgently. "Where are you, Zorito?"
"How about the back door?" Lafayette persisted, groping in the dark for the doorknob.
"There ees no back door!"
"I'll just make one last check," Lafayette said as his fingers found the latch. He jerked the door open,