Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [181]
"Fine—but . . . where am I?" Lafayette raised his head, saw the rough walls of a lean-to made of sticks, and beyond the doorway the bright sunshine of a spring morning.
"Why, you're sharing my humble quarters," Lom said. "I apologize for the somewhat primitive accommodations, but one does the best one can with the resources at hand, eh?"
"Haven't we met before? Your voice seems familiar."
"I doubt it—though one can never be sure, eh?" Lom looked quizzically at O'Leary.
"The last thing I remember," Lafayette said, "was falling off a cliff . . ." He made a move to sit up; pain lanced through his right arm.
"Oh, best you don't move about," the old fellow said quickly. "You've had a nasty fall, you know. But you were fortunate in descending through the tops of a number of trees before coming to rest in a dense fern thicket."
"What time is it?" O'Leary asked. "What day is it?"
"Oh, I should say it's half past ten," Lom said cheerfully. "As for the day . . . ummm. I fear I've lost count. But it was just last night—or more properly, early this morning that I found you. My, what a din you made!"
"Ten thirty. Ye gods, I'm wasting time—" O'Leary made another move to sit up; but Lom pressed him back.
"My dear chap, you mustn't think of venturing out yet! The consequences, I fear, would be most serious!"
"Not half as serious as they'll be if I don't get on my way," O'Leary protested; but he sank back, and Lom turned, lifted a laden tray onto his lap.
"There now. A bite or two and you'll feel much better."
"Yes, but," Lafayette said, and took a mouthful of softly steaming eggs. "Mmnnn hnngg mrrlnggg."
"That's a good chap. Now a bit of the ham, eh?"
"Delicious," Lafayette said, chewing. "But you don't understand, Mr. Lom. I'm not actually what I seem. I mean, things of vast importance are waiting for me to do them." He took a large bite of the hot buttered toast.
"You see, I have to—" he paused; under the mild gaze of the amiable old man, the disclosure he had been about to make sounded too fantastic to voice.
" . . . to, ah, attend to certain matters," he said. "After which, I have to, uh, attend to certain other matters."
"Of course," the old man nodded in sympathy. "A bit of the marmalade?"
"I don't mean to be mysterious," Lafayette said, accepting the pale-green jelly. "But it's highly classified, you see."
"Ah. Quite candidly, I wondered a bit as to just why you were abroad on the heights; but if you're on official business . . ." Lom smiled understandingly.
"Exactly. Now, how far from town am I?" Lafayette craned to look out through the gaps in the wall. The setting seemed to be one of wild-growing foliage.
"Not far—as the crow flies," Lom said. "But the country between here and the city is somewhat difficult to negotiate, I must confess."
"If you don't mind my asking," Lafayette said, taking a hearty gulp of coffee, "how do you happen to live here all alone?"
The old man sighed. "True, it's lonely here. But peaceful. The contemplative life has its compensations."
"What do you do when it rains?" Lafayette persisted, noting the gaps in the fronded roof through which patches of bright-blue sky were visible.
"Oh, I take appropriate measures." Lom dismissed the problem with an airy wave of his hand.
"You seem to do very well," Lafayette agreed.
"One becomes accustomed to certain small comforts," Lom said almost apologetically.
"Certainly—I don't mean to pry, Mr. Lom—"
"Just Lom—no Mister. I make no pretensions to worldly titles."
"Oh. Well, Lom, I certainly enjoyed my breakfast, but now I really have to be getting started."
"Nonsense, my boy. You can't stir for at least a week."
"You still don't get the Big Picture, Lom. The future of the kingdom depends on my getting the word through at once."
"I have an idea," Lom said brightly. "Suppose I carry the message for you?"
"That's very kind of you, Lom, but this is much too important to entrust to anyone else." Lafayette lifted the tray aside, sat up, ignoring a swarm of little bright lights