Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [221]
"Very well . . ." Lom half-lowered the gun. "Assuming I accept that rather dubious explanation: what do you propose we do now?"
"Are we partners again?"
"Of sorts. By the way, you'd better return the sonic projector."
Lom jumped as Clarence spoke at his elbow. "Hey—you guys gonna chin all day? Let's get duh secret pipes fixed and blow outa here. Duh joint gives me duh willies."
"Don't creep up on me like that!" Lom snapped. "As for you, O'Leary—or whoever you are: you've brought me here—now do something!"
Lafayette looked around the gloomy chamber. The last time he had seen it, the wall cabinets which now gaped empty had been crowded with cryptic gear. The Court Magician's workbench, once littered with alembics and retorts and arcane assemblies, was now a bare slab of stained marble. Above, where the black crackle-finish panel with its ranked dials had been, snarled wires protruded from the bare wall.
"Even the skeleton's gone," he lamented. "It was gilded. It used to hang from a wire in the middle of the room. Very atmospheric."
"Skeletons?" Lom rapped. "What sort of mumbo jumbo is this? You said this fellow Nicodaeus was an Inspector of Continua, working out of Central—"
"Right—the skeleton and the stuffed owls and the bottled eye of newt were just window dressing, in case anybody stumbled in here."
"How did you happen to stumble in here? No self-respecting Inspector would allow a local in his operations room."
"I wasn't a local. And he didn't exactly allow me in. I came up here to find out what he knew about Princess Adoranne's disappearance. Frankly, I was ready to slit his weasand, but he talked me out of it."
"Indeed? And how, may I ask? You seem remarkably pertinacious of erroneous theories."
"Your vocabulary gets more portentous all the time," O'Leary said. "He convinced me he was what he said he was—which is more than you've done."
"And how did he accomplish that feat?"
"He made a phone call."
"Oh? I was unaware that telephones were known in this Locus."
"They aren't. Just the one, a hot-line direct to Central. It used to be over there"—O'Leary gestured—"in a cabinet behind the door."
"This is all very nostalgic, I'm sure—but it isn't resolving the present contretemps," Lom said.
"Hey, gents," Clarence called from across the room. "What is—"
"Not now, Clarence," O'Leary said. "Look here, Lom, it's not my fault the lab's been cleaned out. And it's not doing us any good to stand here and carp about it. We still have our freedom; what are we going to do with it?"
"You were the mastermind who had everything in hand!" Lom said testily. "What do you propose?"
"We have to put our heads together, Lom. What do you think we ought to do?"
"Hey, fellas," Clarence spoke up. "What's—"
"Not now, Clarence," Lom said over his shoulder. "Frankly, it looks to me as if we have no choice in the matter. We'll have to simply confront this King Lafayette—this false King Lafayette if your tale is to be credited—and . . . and . . ."
"And what? Invite him to hang us in chains from the palace walls?"
"Blast it, if I could only get my hands on my hands . . ." Lom muttered.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Forget I said it."
"You've got a thing about hands, haven't you?" O'Leary snarled. "Don't think I haven't seen you playing with your fingers when you thought I wasn't looking."
"I wasn't playing, you impertinent upstart! I was . . . oh, never mind."
"Go ahead," O'Leary said, and slumped against the wall. "You might as well snap your lid in your own way. Let's face it: we're at the end of our tether."
Lom laughed hollowly. "You know—I'm almost convinced, at last, that you're what you say you are. What a pity it's too late to do any good."
"Hey," Clarence said. "Pardon duh inneruption—but what's dis funny-looking contraption, which I found inna cupboard behind duh door?"
Lafayette looked dully toward the man. He went