Kickaha wore dark glasses, a purple sleeveless and neckless shirt, a big leather belt with fancy silver buckle, and Levi's. Under his long red hair, against the bone behind his ear, was a receiver. The device he wore on his wrist contained an audio transmitter and a beamer six times as powerful as that in his ring.
Kickaha took his station at the other end of the tar pit. He stood near the fence beyond which was the statue of a huge prehistoric bear. There were about fifty people scattered here and there, none of whom looked as if they would be Cambring's men. This, of course, meant nothing.
A minute later, he saw a large gray Rolls Royce swing into the parking lot. Two men got out and crossed the grass in a straight line toward him. One was Ramos. The other was tall and gangly and wore a business suit, dark glasses, and a hat. When he came closer, Kickaha saw a horse-faced man of about fifty. Kickaha doubted then that he would be Red Orc, because no Lord, not even if he were twenty thousand years old, looked as if he were over thirty.
Anana's voice sounded in his ear. "It's not Red Orc."
He looked around again. There were two men on his left, standing near the fountain by the museum and two men on his right, about twenty yards beyond Anana. They could be Cambring's men.
His heart beat faster. The back of his neck felt chilled. He looked through the fence across the pit at Wilshire Boulevard. Parking was forbidden there at any time. But a car was there, its hood up and a man looking under it. A man sat in the front seat and another in the rear.
"He's going to try to grab me," Kickaha said. "I've spotted seven of his men, I think."
"Do you want to abandon your plan?" she said.
"If I do, you know the word," he said. "Watch it! Here they come!"
Ramos and the gangly man stopped before him. The gangly man said, "Paul?" using the name Kickaha had given Cambring.
Kickaha nodded. He saw another big car enter the parking lot. It was too far for him to distinguish features, but the driver, wearing a hat and dark glasses, could be Cambring. There were three others in his car.
"Are you Red Orc?" Kickaha said, knowing that the tall man was probably carrying a device which would transmit the conversation to the Lord, wherever he was.
"Who? Who's Redark?" the tall man said. "My name is Kleist. Now, Mr. Paul, would you mind telling me what you want?"
Kickaha spoke in the language of the Lords, "Red Orc! I am not a Lord but an Earthling who found a gate to the universe of Jadawin, whom you may remember. I came back to Earth, though I did not want to, to hunt down the Beller. I have no desire to stay here; I wish only to kill the Beller and get back to my adopted world. I have no interest in challenging you."
Kleist said, "What the hell you gibbering about? Speak English, man!"
Rarnos looked uneasy. He said, "He's flipped."
Kleist suddenly looked dumbfounded. Kickaha guessed that he was getting orders.
"Mr. Paul," Kleist said, "I am empowered to offer you complete amnesty. Just come with us and we will introduce you to the man you want to see."
"Nothing doing," Kickaha said. "I'll work with your boss, but I won't put myself in his power. He may be all right, but I have no reason to trust him. I would like to cooperate with him, however, in tracking down the Beller."
Kleist's expression showed that he did not understand the reference to the Beller.
Kickaha looked around again. The men on his left and right were drifting closer. The two men in the car on Wilshire had gotten out. One was looking under the hood with the other man, but the third was gazing through the fence at Kickaha. When he saw Kickaha looking at him, he slowly turned away.
Kickaha said angrily, "You were told that only two of you should come! You're trying to spring a trap on me! You surely don't think you can kidnap me here in the middle of all these people?"
"Now, now, Mr. Paul!" Kleist said. "You're mistaken! Don't be nervous! There's only two of us, and we're here to talk to you, only that."
Anana said, "A police car has just pulled up behind that car on the street."
Kleist and Ramos looked at each other; it was evident that they had also seen the police car. But they looked as if they had no intention of leaving.
Kickaha said, "If your boss would like me to help, he'll have to think of some way of guaranteeing me passage back."
He decided he might as well spring his surprise now. The Lord knew that there was a woman with Kickaha, and while he had no way of knowing that she was a Lord, he must suspect it. Kickaha had only been on Earth a short time when the Lord's men had seen her with him. And since he knew that the gate had been activated twice before Kickaha came along, he must suspect that the other party-or parties-was also a Lord.
Now was the time to tell Red Orc about them. This would strengthen
Kickaha's bargaining position and it might stop the effort to take him prisoner just now.
"You tell your boss," he said, "that there are four other Lords now on Earth."
Kickaha was not backward about exaggerating if it might confuse or upset the enemy. There might come a time when he could use the two nonexistent Lords as leverage.
"Also," he added, "there are two Earthlings who have come from Jadawin's world. Myself and a woman who is with Jadawin."
That ought to rock him, he thought. Arouse his curiosity even more. He must be wondering how two Earthlings got into Jadawin's world in the first place and how they got back here.
"You tell your boss," Kickaha said, "that none of us, except for the Beller, mean him any harm. We just want to kill the Beller and get the hell out of this stinking universe."
Kickaha thought that Red Orc should be able to understand that. What Lord in his right mind would want to take control of Earth from another Lord? What Lord would want to stay here when he could go to a much nicer, if much smaller, universe?
Kleist was silent for a moment. His head was slightly cocked as if he were listening to an invisible demon on his shoulder. Then he said, "What difference does it make if there are four Lords?"
It was obvious that Kleist was relaying the message and that he did not understand the references.
Kickaha spoke in the language of the Lords. "Red Orc! You have forgotten the device that every Lord carries in his brain. The alarm that rings in every Lord's head when he gets close to the metal bell of a Beller! With four Lords searching for the Beller, the chances for finding him are greater!"
Kleist had dropped any pretense that he was not in direct communication with his chief. He said, "How does he know that you are not the Beller?"
"If I were a Beller, why would I get into contact with you, let you know you had a dangerous enemy loose in your world?"
"He says," Kleist reported, his face becoming blanker as he talked, as if he were turning into a mechanical transceiver, "that a Beller would try to locate all Lords as quickly as possible. After all, a Lord is the only one besides a Beller who knows that Bellers exist. Or who can do anything about them. So you would try to find him, just as you are now doing. Even if it meant your life. Bellers are notorious for sacrificing one of their number if they can gain an advantage thereby.
"He also says, how does he know that these so-called Lords are not your fellow Bellers?"
Kickaha spoke in the Lords' tongue. "Red Orc! You are trying my patience. I have appealed to you because I know of your vast resources! You haven't got much choice, Red Orc! If you force me to cut off contact with you, then you won't know that I'm not a Beller and your sleep will be hideous with nightmares about the Bellers at large! In fact, the only way you can be sure that I'm not a Beller is to work with me, but under my terms! I insist on that!"