"Why am I not surprised?" Mike asked.
"List?" Harry asked.
"Things we have to do. First thing: Mike, you're the only one who has any right to be at that research place, the one with the bacteria."
"Well, yes…"
"It's not far out of our way," Bruce said. "We go there, make sure everything's all right, and Belinda Jenks will meet us in her car and get us back to Minneapolis. The rest of you will go on to St. Louis. The St. Louis people will get you aimed west."
"Right. We're off then," Harry said. "We'll be sure everything's all right."
"What if it isn't?" Mike asked. "What can you do?"
"We can warn you," Harry said.
"How? Telephone?"
Jenny sniffed. "We'll get you the word. If we have to make enough noise that everyone in the country knows--" She patted her oversized handbag.
"Yeah, well that makes sense," Mike said. "But--" He took Harry aside. "Harry, take this. It's a thousand."
"I don't need--"
Mike's voice was low but intense. "Harry, you never ask until you need it right now. This time--just take the money, Harry. Think of it as default option money. It's your last gasp. When you run low on funds and Jenny's ready to rob some poor schlub at gunpoint, use the damn money instead."
Harry hadn't taken it. Mike said, "You know her, Harry. Any excuse. "Bring it down, bring it down--"
"Yeah." Harry took the money and had it in his boot with a minimum of motion.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Treasure Hunt,
or
The Hundredth Dream
«logon»
«Greetings, all, from the Oregon Ghost. Gabe and Rafe are on their way. Let's all chip in and do what we can for their going away present. If you can't deliver it in person, leave word and I'll find a way to get it there.»
--Ghost, with both hands, you couldn't find your--
«Alter! How did you get out of your dungeon? I don't have time for you now. There is serious business afoot.»
--That's why I'm here, you pitiful Primary Ego. This is too serious for me to sit back and watch you screw things up. Did you think I would stay down there amusing myself by burning those old copies of The Intergalactic Reporter--?
«What?! How dare you burn my collection of fanzines? What would Carol Kovacs say if she knew?»
--Well, an imp has to keep itself warm somehow. If you would heat the dungeon I wouldn't have had to ignite that stack of Lan's Lanterns last week--
°Shriek°
--Or the FOSFAXs or Mimosas. They're getting dry and crumbly. Make good tinder
«All right, Alter. Make your point, if you have one.»
--Point? Point? Oh, very well. Friends, don't trust The Ghost. His minds aren't what they used to be. Send your contributions to the usual places. DUFF, SKIFFY, TAFF, they're all in this. The final drawing hasn't been scheduled yet; but the big prize is still the Trip of a Lifetime. Remember, two Grand Prize winners have already been chosen, but don't let that stop you from giving them the boost they need. They're feeling a little Down.»
«Thank you, Alter. Now get back to your dungeon, like a good little Ego.»
--Don't count on it, Ghost. I'm the Prime Self now. Remember? The fans voted for me in Galaxy years ago. Me, not you, Ghost. Eh? No! Not the Spell! Not the Spell! Arrgh!--
«logoff»
«Like what?» Anonymous note on electronic bulletin board.
«You name it; they need it. Make it small and make it light. There's a weight limit on their baggage.» Anonymous reply on same bulletin board.
Captain Doom flashed the light briefly at the big wooden sign. PUTNAM'S WORM FARM. WORMS FOR SOIL CULTIVATION; WORMS FOR BAIT; WORMS FOR ALL PURPOSES. He pondered that, wondering what other purposes worms might have. Then he shrugged and touched his throat mike. "Captain, Doom to SMOF-One," he whispered. "I am in position."
"Roger, Captain Doom," he heard Benjamin Orange's voice tinny in his ear. "Go for it."
Captain Doom nodded to his three companions. He grabbed a section of chain-link fence while Mark and Lisha Hartz worked their wire cutters in unison. Then he lifted the loose flap like a trap door. He clapped the third fan on the shoulder. "Chain up! We're going in."
Andy ducked swiftly forward with a shovel in his hand. Captain Doom began counting in his head. "One one-thousand; two one-thousand; three one-thousand…" Then he tapped Mark and Lisha, who dropped their bolt cutters, grabbed plastic sacks, and scurried through the hole in the fence.
While his teammates were gone Captain Doom tied twisties to the cut sides of the fence flap. Then he waited. When his mental count reached three minutes the bag carriers slip back through the fence, followed in another minute by Andy with the shovel. The four plastic sacks bulged and Captain Doom caught a whiff of the contents. "Better double-bag that," he said. "It's a long ride back."
His three companions nodded and slipped away into the darkness. As he fastened the loose fence section back in place with the twisties, Captain Doom triggered his throat mike. "Captain Doom to SMOF-One. Mission accomplished. Have the deodorizers ready."
Captain Doom rejoined the others. Benjamin Orange stood by the open back doors of the panel truck they had come in. Doom's teammates and two other teams were already seated inside the truck, wiping greasepaint from their faces. Orange was garbed in slacks and dress shirt and sported a prominent bow tie in the Black Watch tartan. He wore a headset and throat mike that left his hands free for a clipboard and checklist. SMOFs always made lists.
"Can you hear me, Team Gamma? Can you hear me?" He glanced up as Captain Doom approached. "How'd the worm farm go?"
"It went like clockwork, Orange."
"Good." The SMOF nodded. "Good. Wait." He put a hand to his earphone. "Ah, there you are, Henry. I can hear you now. Have you got the bull semen? Yes, I know it's kept cold. We've got a refrigerated container in the truck; so hurry it back here. SMOF-One, out." He grinned at Captain Doom. "Let's see the Lunarians top that one. With that plus the ova from the agricultural school… if the Angels can't culture a bit of laboratory beef, then we aren't the Fanoclasts."
The clerk at the checkout counter raised his eyebrows. "Starting a garden, miss?"
Winnie Null piled more seed packets on the counter. "Sure am."
The clerk studied the packets. "You must have a mighty big plot."
"Big enough."
"You've got too much there, miss. They'll choke each other out."
Winnie sighed. Why did men assume that, because she looked like a covergirl, she did not have a brain in her head? "I know what I'm doing."
"If you'd like a little advice on gardening, I get off at five."
"That's very generous. My husband and I will be glad to have your help." Husbands were useful, she reflected, as the clerk suddenly busied himself with his job. One of these days she would have to get one.
Thor waited by the checkout lane at the supermarket, holding a place in line while Fang scurried back and forth with small purchases. That earned him a glare from the lumpy, dough-faced woman who was next in line. Probably upset because, due to Fang's ploy, she was one place behind her rightful place in line. Thor considered letting her go ahead; decided against it. Her shopping basket was piled so high that by the time she was through at the cash register the glaciers would be in the parking lot.