Red grinned and scratched his ear.
"You have rather odd beliefs for a C Twenty Cleveland art dealer."
"Some of us are more sophisticated than others."
Dodd extended his hand and picked up Flowers.
"Release me or feel the wrath of the Book," Flowers announced in a somber voice.
The brandy glass shattered in Dodd's left hand. Mondamay rose to his feet.
"I have been summoned," he stated.
Dodd's chair crashed to the floor as he sprang back from the table. He drew away, tracing fiery patterns in
the air.
Red stood and rounded the table.
"This crap has gone far enough!" he said. "I know you, Frazier—or whatever—"
At this Dodd flung his arms wide. The candles and oil lamps flickered out. There came a blast of heat and a flash of light, followed by an enormous crash. Red felt himself pushed back and to the side as this occurred.
He staggered. The sounds of the storm were suddenly
louder. Laval was shouting from somewhere beyond the hall. Rain was coming in through the roof.
A searchlight came on in the region of Mondamay's midsection. He turned and inspected Red.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes. What happened?"
"I don't know. That flash blanked my sensors for a moment. I got in front of you before it occurred, as a safety measure. Something exited through the roof, though."
"Dodd? ..." Red called.
No answer.
"Flowers?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you break his glass and give him that weird routine?"
"To scare him, of course. For the same reason I sent Mondamay a microwave message to do something similar. I recognized him before you did—it was the same basic voice pattern."
"He was definitely the same guy we picked up hitchhiking?"
"Yes."
"I wish I knew what he wants."
"I think he—it—means you harm. But I believe it was frightened the first time around. It thinks you have some sort of magical defense system. It does not know what a microminiature integrated circuit is. Obviously, they don't have them where it comes from, but they do
have some form of magic. It thinks that you do too, and it is afraid of it because it doesn't understand it. It saw it earlier, and I believe it came here tonight to test it"
Laval entered the room with a light
"What the hell happened here?" he shouted.
"I have no idea," Red replied, picking up Flowers. "I was talking with the man who'd just come in when the lights blew out. There was a crash and now there is a hole in the roof and Mr. Dodd is nowhere in sight Maybe a meteor fell on him. I don't know."
Laval set down the lamp he'd brought in. His hand was shaking.
"I only caught part of that business in the parking lot earlier," he said, "so I don't know what went on there. But what I did see was damned suspicious. Then you suddenly acquire a robot. Maybe he threw that man through my roof. I don't know. Do you mean me any harm?"
"Hell, no. I said I don't know what's going on either."
"I know it's a miserable night, and I don't know where to tell you to go, but would you mind if I asked you to leave? I don't want any more trouble. Maybe you don't know what's happening, but you're some kind of a jinx. Please? ..."
Flowers emitted two short beeps.
"Yeah," Red replied, "I understand. Get my bill ready. I'll get my stuff out of the room."
"Forget the bill."
"Okay, I will. Wait... Didn't Dodd leave his coat with you?"
"Yes, he did."
"Let's have a look at it. There might be some clue as to where he's from."
"All right. Come on. I'll show you. Then you go."
He glanced once at the ceiling and led Red out the door. Mondamay followed. Laval closed and secured the door after them.
"This way."
They proceeded up the hall to a small cloakroom. Laval raised his light. The remains of a dark coat steamed on a hook to the right. It had no sleeves, and it was ragged along the bottom. It exhaled wisps of smoke. When Red reached forward to examine the label, the coat slipped from the hook and fell. He caught it, but it came apart in his hand. He turned the collar, which he still held, toward him, opening it. There was no label. The material disintegrated as he held it. He rubbed his fingertips together and sniffed them. He shook his head. The remains of the garment disappeared from where they had fallen near his foot.
"I don't understand," Laval said.
Red shrugged, then smiled.
"Cheap coat," he said. "All right. I'll get my stuff and clear out. Good dinner. Sorry about your roof."
He recovered his rifle, jacket and backpack from the room.
"Take a little trip with us, Mondy?" he asked, staring out the front door into the rain. "I was coming to see you. I'd like to talk."
"Anything you say."
Red turned up his collar.
"Okay. Lets get out of here."
He flung the door open and dashed. Moments later, they were in the truck, Flowers in the compartment, Mondamay in the passenger seat.
"Any more bombs?" Red asked.
"All clear."
He started the engine, flicked on the wipers and the lights.
"Why bother with all that manual stuff? I'll drive." He swung out of the lot and onto the road. 'I want to do something. How do you figure that guy found us again?" "I have no idea." "Well ... I know of a quiet little motel around the
middle of C Twelve, off the main drag, on the Byzantine cutoff. Can you think of any reason why not?"
"No."
Red hit the accelerator. The sky grew pearly. The rain stopped. He switched off the lights and the wipers.
Two
Sundoc's flyer deposited him on the laboratory's roof. He entered a hatchway and dropped to the sixth floor. He was met by Cargado, chief .physician-engineer of the establishment, who took him into his office and activated the wallscreen. Sundoc seated himself in a comfortable reclining chair and propped his sandaled feet on a small table. He wore shorts and a dark turtleneck. He clasped his hands behind his head and regarded the image of the man on the screen.
"All right. Tell me about him," he said.
"I have the entire file right here."
"I don't want the damned file. I want you to tell me about him."
"Of course," Cargado replied, seating himself at the desk. "His name is Archie Shellman—the most decorated soldier in World War III and a master of the martial arts. We found him a C and a half back. He'd been an infantryman in a special commando outfit. Lost a leg. Concussion. Major psychiatric impairment—"
"Like what?"
"Depression at first, followed by extreme resentment of the prosthesis. Then paranoia. Finally, manic spells. Went into physical culture in a big way. Extreme de velopment of the upper body, presumably to compensate—"
"I can see that. What then?"
"He finally killed some civilians. Knocked off half a town, actually. Insanity plea. Institutionalized. Manic. depressive cycle controlled by drug therapy. Still paranoid, though. Still lifting weights—"
"Not bad. Better than the others you've shown me, So you liberated him and gave him the pitch?"
Cargado nodded.
"A prosthetic beyond anything he could wish for. He finally consented to having all of his limbs replaced when we assured him we could restore the originals if he wasn't happy. He was, though."
He touched a control panel and the figure on the screen moved. Dark eyes, strong jaw, heavy brows, somewhat pale... The man was clad only in shorts. His movements were extremely graceful as he approached a rack of weights and began a vigorous workout. He increased the tempo until he was moving at a terrific speed.
"You've made the point," Sundoc said. "Special features?"
Cargado worked a control. The gymnasium picture faded to be replaced by another.