He went with her.
(Wondering if he was insane himself.)
Themus followed the girl through sections of the city Superior Furth had missed during his guided tour of inspection. They passed under a beautifully filigreed arch into a gardened street lined with monstrous blossoms growing to heights of eight and nine feet on either side of the road, casting twin shadows from the bright suns above.
Once he stopped her in the shadows of a towering flower and asked, “Why did you decide you wanted me to meet your uncle?”
“I’ve been watching you all day,” she said simply, as if prepared to leave that as a total explanation.
“But why me?”
“I like you,” she said, as though being purposely repetitious to impress him. Themus distinctly got the idea she was treating him as she would a very young child.
“Oh. I see,” he said, more baffled than before. They continued down the street through an area covered by long, low structures that might have been factories were it not for the impossibly tall and spindly-looking towers that reared from the roof of each one. Themus shaded his eyes from the glare of the twin suns as he sought to glimpse what was at the top of each tower. He could see nothing.
“What are those?” he asked. He was surprised to hear his own voice. It sounded like that of an inquisitive little boy.
“Quiet, you.”
That was the last thing Darfla said till they came out of nowhere and grabbed her and Themus.
Before the Watcher knew what was happening, a horde, more men than he could count, had surrounded them. They were dressed in everything from loincloth and top hat to burnoose and riding boots. Darfla gave one sharp, tiny squeal and then let her hands fall limply to her sides.
“All right, you want your say, so say!” Anger and annoyance fluttered in her voice.
A short, pock-faced man wearing a suit that appeared to be made from ropes of different colors stepped forward.
“We thought negative (click-click!) and wanted to talk on this at Cave (click-click!).” Themus listened with growing amazement. Not only did the man intersperse every few words with a metallic, unnerving tongue-clacking, but he said the word “Cave” with a low, mysterious, important tone totally unlike the rest of his speech, which was quite flat and uninflected.
Darfla raised her hands, palms upward, in resignation. “What can I say, Deere, after I say I’m sorry?”
The man addressed as Deere shook his head and said, “(Click-click!) we before talked and him not now never never never! Nothing to say against the (Click!) but he’s def but def a stuffed one at least well now for a time (Click!). Cave.” Same clucking, same cryptic tone when speaking of the Cave. Themus began to worry in direct proportion to the number of surrounders.
“Let’s go,” Darfla said over her shoulder to Themus, not taking her eyes from Deere.
“W-where?” trembled Themus.
“Cave. Where else?”
“Oh, nowhere — I guess.” He tried to be lighthearted about it. Somehow, he failed miserably.
They started off, the surrounders doing a masterful job of surrounding; cutting Themus and the girl off from anyone who might be looking. They were a walking camouflage.
Darfla began to needle Deere with caustic and, to Themus, cryptic remarks. Deere looked about to turn and put his pudgy fist in her face, and Themus nudged the girl to stop.
“Woof woof a goldfish,” she tossed off as a final insult.
“(Click!)” answered Deere, sticking his tongue out.
It was a huge, featureless block in the midst of completely empty ground. Something about it suggested that it was an edifice of total disinterest. Themus recalled buildings he had seen in his youth that had been vaguely like this one. Buildings he would make a point of not bothering to enter, so uninteresting were they.
Inside it was a cave.
Stalactites hung down from the ceiling in wedge-shaped rockiness. Stalagmites pushed their way up from the floor, spiking the stone underfoot. A mud collar surrounded a small pool in which clear water rippled. The walls were hewn out of rock, the floor was sand-covered stone.
They could have been five miles underground. It was another world.
It was crammed with Crackpots.
Themus walked between two huge men wearing fezzes and sword belts, behind the clicking Deere and next to Darfla, who looked uneasy. Themus felt more than merely uneasy. He was terrified.
“Deere!”
It was Darfla. She had stopped, was being pushed unwillingly by the weight of people moving behind her. “I want this talked out right now. Here. Now. Here. Now. Here. Now —”
“Don’t (Click!) try that here, Darfla. We have ours, too, you know (Click-click!).”
“All right. Straight, then.”
“Were you taking him to see Boolbak?”
“Yes, why?”
“You know your uncle isn’t reliable. He could say anything, Darfla. We have no fear, really, but why tempt the Chances.” He pursed his pudgy lips and said, “We’ll have to recondition your Watcher, girl. I’m sorry.” There was a murmur from the large, restless crowd.
Themus did not know what reconditioning was, nor what the whole conversation had been about, nor who these people were, but he recognized the Watcher part, and the fact that something unpleasant was about to happen to him.
He looked around for a way out, but there was none. He was effectively manacled by the sheer weight of numbers. The Cave was filled, and the walls were lined with people. All they had to do was move in and he’d be squashed.
He remained very still, turned his inward eyes upward and ran painstakingly over the list of his family Lords, offering up to each of them paeans of praise and pleas for help and deliverance.
“No, no!” Darfla was pleading, “He’s not really. He’s a Kyben. I wouldn’t have been able to stand him, would I, if he were a real Stuff?”
Deere bit the inside of his cheek in thought. “We thought so, too, when we got the list, but since he’s been here, it’s been too early to tell, and now you’ve let him too close to it all. We don’t like this, Darfla, but —”
“Test him. He’ll show you.” She was suddenly close to Deere, his hand in hers, her face turned down to the fat little man’s pudgy stare. “Please, Deere. For what uncle used to be.”
Deere exhaled fully, pursed his lips again and said, “All right, Darfla. If the others say it’s all right. It’s not my decision to make.”
He looked around. There was a mutter of assent from the throng. Deere turned to Themus, looking at the Watcher appraisingly.
Then suddenly —
“Here it is: we’re mad. You must prove to us you are mad. You must do — oh, let’s see — five mad acts. Truly mad. Right here in the Cave. You can do anything but harm one of us or try to escape. And we’re mad, so we’ll know if they’re mad acts or not. Now, go on.”
“Tell him the rest, Deere, tell him —” Darfla began.
“Quiet, woman! That’s all there is, Watcher. Go on.” He stood back, arms folded across his round little belly.
“Mad? What kind of madness? I mean, like what? I don’t … I can’t do any …” Themus looked at Darfla. Something unhinged within him at sight of her, about to cry.
He thought for a while. The crowd became impatient, voices called out things from the pack. He thought longer. Then his face smiled all the way from his mouth to his hairline.
Calmly he walked over to Darfla and began undressing her.
The clack of jaws falling was an audible thing in the sudden silence of the Cave.
Themus stripped her piece by piece, carefully knotting and pulling each piece of clothing before he went on to the next. Blouse. Knot and pull tight. Belt. Knot and pull tight. Skirt. Knot and pull tight.
Darfla offered no resistance, but her face went stoney and her jaw muscles worked rhythmically.
Eventually she was naked to the skin.
Themus bent down, made sure each item of clothing was securely knotted. Then he gathered it all up in a bundle and brought the armful to the girl. She put out her arms and he dropped the bundle into them.