The only way to impress a Lord was to be even more arrogant than he.
Anana's voice said, "The car's gone. The police must have scared them out. The police car's going now."
Kickaha raised his arm and muttered into the transceiver, "Where are the others?"
"Closing in. They're standing by the fence and pretending to look at the statues. But they're working toward you."
He looked past Kleist and Ramos across the grass. The two cars he had suspected were now empty, except for one man, whom he thought would be Cambring. The others were among the picnickers on the grass. He saw two men who looked grim and determined and tough; they could be Cambring's.
"We'll take off to my left," he said. "Around the fence and across Wilshire. If they follow us, it'll have to be on foot. At first, at least."
He flicked a look toward Anana. She had gotten up from the bench and was strolling toward him.
Kleist said, "Very well. I am authorized to accept your terms."
He smiled disarmingly and stepped closer. Ramos tensed.
"Couldn't we go elsewhere? It's difficult to carry on a conversation here. But it'll be wherever you say."
Kickaha was disgusted. He had just been about to agree that it would be best to tie in with Red Orc. Through him, the Beller and Wolff and Chryseis might be found, and after that the dam could break and the devil take the hindmost. But the Lord was following the bent of his kind; he was trusting his power, his ability to get anything or anybody he wanted.
Kickaha made one last try. "Hold it! Not a step closer! You ask your boss if he remembers Anana, his niece, or Jadawin, his nephew? Remembers how they looked? If he can identify them, then he'll know I'm telling the truth."
Kleist was silent and then nodded his head. He said, "Of course. My boss agrees. Just let him have a chance to see them."
It was no use. Kickaha knew then what Red Orc was thinking. It should have occurred to Kickaha. The brains of Anana and Wolff could be housing the minds of the Bellers.
Kleist, still smiling, reached into his jacket slowly, so that Kickaha would not be thinking he was reaching for a gun. He brought out a pen and pad of paper and said, "I'll write down this number for you to call, and..."
Not for a second did Kickaha believe that the pen was only a pen. Evidently Orc had entrusted Kleist with a beamer. Kleist did not know it, but he was doomed. He had heard too much during the conversation, and he knew about a device which should not be existing on Earth as yet.
There was no time to tell Kleist that in the hope that he could be per-suaded to desert the Lord.
Kickaha leaped to one side just as Kleist pointed the pen at him. Kickaha was quick, but he was touched by the beam on the shoulder and hurled sideways to the ground. He rolled on, seeing Kleist throw his hands up into the air, the pen flying away, and then Kleist staggered back one step and fell onto his back. Kickaha leaped up and dived toward the pen, even though his left shoulder and arm felt as if a two-by-four had slammed into it. Ramos, however, made no effort to grab the pen. Probably, he did not know what it really was.
Women were shrieking and men were yelling, and there was much running around.
When he got to his feet, he saw why. Kleist and three of his men were unconscious on the ground. Six men were running toward them-these must have been the latecomers-and were shoving people out of their way.
The fourth man who had been sneaking up on him was pulling a gun from an underarm holster.
Ramos, seeing this, shouted, "No! No guns! You know that!"
Kickaha aimed the beamer-pen, which, fortunately, was activated by pressing a slide, not by code words, and the man seemed to fold up and be lifted off the ground. He sailed back, hit on his buttocks, straightened out, and lay still, arms outspread, his face gray. The gun lay on the ground several feet before him.
Kickaha turned and saw Anana running toward him. She had shot a beam at the same time that Kickaha shot his, and the gunman had gotten a double impact.
Kickaha leaped forward, scooped up the gun, and hurled it over the fence into the tar pit. He and Anana ran around the fence and up the slope onto the sidewalk. There was no crosswalk here, and the traffic was heavy. But it was also slow because the traffic light a half block away was red.
The two ran between the cars, forcing them to slam on their brakes. Horns blatted, and several people yelled at them out the windows.
Once they reached the other side, they looked behind them. The traffic had started up again, and the seven men after them were, for the moment, helpless.
"Things didn't work out right," Kickaha said. "I was hoping that I could grab Kleist and get away with him. He might've been the lead to Red Orc."
Anana laughed, though a little nervously. "Nobody can accuse you of being underconfident," she said. "What now?"
"The cops'll be here pretty quick," he said. "Yeah, look, Cambring's men are all going back. I bet they got orders to get Kleist and the others out before the cops get here."
He grabbed Anana's hand and began running east toward the corner. She said, "What're you doing?"
"We'll cross back at the traffic light while they're busy and then run like hell down Curson Street. Cambring's there!"
She did not ask any more. But to get away from the enemy and then to run right back into his mouth seemed suicidal.
The two were now opposite the men about a hundred yards away. Kickaha looked between the trees lining the street and saw the unwounded men supporting Kleist and three others. In the distance, a siren wailed. From the way Cambring's men hurried, they had no doubt that it was coming after them.
Cambring, looking anxious, was standing by the car. He stiffened when he felt the pen touch his back and heard Kickaha's voice.
Cambring did not look around but got into the front seat as directed. Anana and Kickaha got into the rear seat, and ducked down. Kickaha kept the pen jammed against Cambring's back.
Cambring protested once. "You can't get away with this! You're crazy!"
"Just shut up!" Kickaha said.
Thirty seconds later, Kleist, supported by two men reached the car. Kickaha swung out the back door and pointed the pen at them, saying, "Put Kleist into the front seat."
The two holding Kleist halted. The others, forming a rear guard, reached for their guns, but Kickaha shouted, "I'll kill Kleist and Cambring both! And you, too, with this!"
He waved the pen. The others knew by now that the pen was a weapon of some sort even if they did not know its exact nature. They seemed to fear it more than a gun, probably because its nature was in doubt.
They stopped. Kickaha said, "I'm taking these two! The cops'll be here in a minute! You better take off, look out for yourselves!"
The two holding Kleist carried him forward and shoved him into the front seat. Cambring had to push against Kleist to keep him from falling on him like a sack full of garbage. Kickaha quickly got out of the car and went around to get into the driver's seat, while Anana held the pen on the others.
He started the motor, backed up with a screech of tires, jerked it to a stop, turned, and roared out of the parking lot. The car went up and down violently as they jumped the dip between the lot entrance and the street. Kickaha shouted to Anana, and she reached over the seat, felt behind Kleist's ear, and came up with the transceiver. It was a metal disc thin as a postage stamp and the size of a dime.