Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [217]
" . . . don't know," Lom was still talking. "Even if I were convinced you were a mere dupe—which I'm not—"
"How," Lafayette cut in, "would you like to escape from this cell?"
"I should like that very well indeed," Lom spat. "But don't change the subject! I—"
"Take this whammy off me . . ." O'Leary panted, "and we'll talk about it."
"Not until you've made a clean breast of it!"
"Did you notice what I'm holding in my hand?"
"No. What difference would—" Lom paused. "It . . . it appears to be a large key of some sort. It's not—it's not the key to this door—"
"It better be—or Zorro's fingers have lost their touch." Lafayette thrust the key out between the bars.
"Careful, my boy! Don't drop it! Bring it back inside, carefully!"
"Untie this knot in my duodenum!"
"I . . . I . . . very well!"
Lafayette staggered at the sudden relief of the stomach cramp. "That was a neat trick," he said. "How did you do it?"
"With this." Lom showed an artifact resembling a ball-point pen. "A simple invention of mine. It projects a sound beam of the proper frequency to induce muscular contraction. You see, I confide in you. Now . . . the key, dear boy!"
"Deal," Lafayette said. "A truce between us. We join forces until we find out what's going on."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because if you don't I'll pitch this key out of reach, and we'll both be stuck here. I won't be able to help Adoranne, maybe—but you won't be free to do her any more harm!"
"I assure you, that's the last thing I desire, lad!"
"Deal?" Lafayette persisted.
"Deal, then. But at the first false move—"
"Let's not waste time," Lafayette said, tossing the key to Lom. "We have some plans to make."
2
"Geez, don't you ever sleep?" Percy inquired aggrievedly as he halted before the cell door. "What you want this time? I told you already chow ain't till one pee em—" He broke off, peering between the bars into the gloomy cell. "Hey—it seems to me like there was another mug in here wit' youse. A little geezer—" He broke off with a grunt, doubled over, and went down. Lafayette thrust the door open and stepped over the prostrate turnkey as Lom came forward from the dark corner where he had lain in wait.
"He'll be all right, won't he?"
"Ummm. I just gave him a touch of angina," Lom said offhandedly. "He'll be as good as new in half an hour. Now what?"
"There's still Oglethorpe to deal with. Come on." Stealthily, the escapees moved along the corridor, past empty cells, to the archway beyond which the corner of the warden's desk was visible, supporting a pair of size-fourteen boots with well-worn soles.
"Give him a shot in the ankle," Lafayette murmured. Lom eased forward, focused his sound projector, pressed the stud. There was a muffled exclamation; a large, hairy hand came down to massage the foot. Lom administered a second dose; with a yelp, Oglethorpe swiveled in his chair, swinging his feet out of sight as his head and shoulders rotated into view. Lom took careful aim and zapped him again. The big man roared and slapped his own jaw with a report like a pistol shot. As he jumped up, the old gentleman sighted on his lumbar area and gave him yet another blast. Oglethorpe arched backward, lost his balance, and cracked his head on the desk on the way down.
"Got him," Lom stated with satisfaction.
"You're going to have to simplify that procedure before it replaces a sock full of sand," O'Leary told him. "He made more noise than a rumble between rival gangs armed with garbage can lids."
"Still, we seem to have occasioned no alarm. After all, who would expect a jailbreak at this hour of the day?"
"Well, let's not just stand here congratulating ourselves. We've got ground to cover. Let's take in those lockers and see what's available in the way of disguises."
Five minutes of rummaging turned up a pair of shabby cloaks and a worn canvas pouch full of battered tools.
"We're plumbers," O'Leary said. "I'm the master pipefitter, and you're my assistant—"
"Quite the contrary," Lom interrupted. "A silver-haired apprentice