Universe Twister - Keith Laumer [229]
"Eight p.m.—about an hour from now."
"Unless I'm badly mistaken, you'll have callers before then—bound on the errand you thought I was on. Quelius can't afford to have you alive when his puppet springs his big announcement this evening. He probably figures on the confusion of the big dance to cover sneaking the bodies out of the palace. Later he'll make the sad announcement that you've fallen victims to the fever. Your showing up in good health will blow that plan off the map. After that we'll have to play it by ear."
"Once in the ballroom, in full sight of the people," Alain mused, "we'll be safe—for the moment. He'd not dare to cut us down before our subjects."
"And our very presence there," Adoranne added, "will give the lie to his claims of our indisposition."
Alain smacked a fist into his palm.
"'Tis possible—but if this secret way leads into a trap . . ." Alain gave Lafayette a fierce look. "I know who will be first to die."
"Don't be nervous, Al—you'll get through all right," O'Leary assured him. "Now, I think you both ought to look your best, to properly impress the public. Medals, orders, jewels, tiaras—the works."
"You could do with a wash yourself, fellow," Alain addressed O'Leary. "There's a distinct odor of goat about you."
"A bath?" Lafayette said wonderingly. "I'd forgotten such things existed."
"In there." Alain motioned along a short passage toward a door through which were visible pale-green tiles and golden fittings. "And you may burn those garish rags; I think my footman's attire will fit you well enough."
"I guess I can spare the time," Lafayette said, heading for the bathroom.
For a quarter of an hour O'Leary luxuriated in hot, scented water, scrubbing his skin with violet soap until it tingled.
"Easy, boy," he advised himself. "You'll wash all the hide off. Some of that dark shade is permanent . . ."
Afterward, he shaved, deciding to retain Zorro's mustache, trimmed drastically to an Errol Flynn effect with a pair of fingernail scissors, which he also employed on his fingernails. His glossy blue-black hair was also trimmed lightly and toweled dry, after which, with a minimum of brushing, it fell into a rather dashing natural coif.
Alain had laid out clothing in the anteroom. Lafayette put on clean underwear, tight black pants, a white shirt with baggy sleeves and an open collar. Before adding the black coat provided, he donned the scarlet cummerbund from his former outfit—a recent acquisition, apparently, almost unsoiled. Of necessity he also retain the gold rings on his fingers, as well as the one in his left ear, since they seemed to be permanently attached.
He strolled back along the passage into the drawing room; Daphne turned with a startled expression.
"Oh—it's you. You look—different."
"Where are Adoranne and Alain?"
"In their boudoir, dressing."
"You look pretty cute in that uniform, Daphne," O'Leary said. "But I liked you better in soapsuds."
"Please—spare me these fanciful reminiscences, sir! I have no choice but to work with you. But it's silly for somebody who doesn't have the remotest resemblance to Lafayette to attempt to impersonate him!"
"Well—I guess I'll have to settle for a platonic relationship. But it's hard, Daphne. You'll never know how I've missed you these past two weeks, how I've wanted to take you in my arms, and—"
"Don't be impertinent," Daphne said mildly. "You'd best fill me in on the plan."
"Oh, the plan. Well, frankly, the plan needs work. Daphne, did you know you have the most beautiful eyes in the world?"
"Do you really think so? But never mind that. We must talk of what we'll do when we reach the ballroom."
"Well, this fellow Quelius is a potent operator. Our only chance is to sneak up on him and nail him before he can use his sonic projector. Do you know, your hair is like spun onyx. And even in that uniform, your figure is enough to break a man's heart at a hundred yards."
"Silly boy," Daphne murmured. "I must say you look better with a shave. But we really can't stand here chattering all day . . ." She looked