“I would look far more horrible, my friend, if I had a transparent skin like you,” Mackenzie said, “if the anatomy charts are accurate. But we were discussing the matter of my partner’s body.”
Gallegher said wildly, “This is fantastic. You’re probably laying yourself open to compounding a felony or something.”
“Then you admit the charge.”
“Of course not! You’re entirely too sure of yourself, Mr. Mackenzie. I’ll bet you killed Harding yourself and you’re trying to frame me for it. How do you know he’s dead?”
“Now that calls for some explanation, I admit,” Mackenzie said. “Jonas was a methodical man. Vurra. I have never known him to miss an appointment for any reason whatsoever. He had appointments last night, and more this morning. One with me. Moreover, he had fifty thousand credits on him when he came here to see you last night.”
“How do you know he got here?”
“I brought him, in my air-cab. I let him out at your door. I saw him go in.”
“Well, you didn’t see him go out, but he did,” Gallegher said.
Mackenzie, quite unruffled, went on checking points on his bony fingers.
“This morning I checked your record, Mr. Gallegher, and it is not a good one. Unstable, to say the least. You have been mixed up in some shady deals, and you have been accused of crimes in the past. Nothing was ever proved, but you’re a sly one, I suspect. The police would agree.”
“They can’t prove a thing. Harding’s probably home in bed.”
“He is not. Fifty thousand credits is a lot of money. My partner’s insurance amounts to much more than that. The business will be tied up sadly if Jonas remains vanished, and there will be litigation. Litigation costs money.”
“I didn’t kill your partner!” Gallegher cried.
“Ah,” Mackenzie smiled. “Still, if I can prove that you did, it will come to the same thing, and be reasonably profitable for me. You see your position, Mr. Gallegher. Why not admit it, tell me what you did with the body, and escape with five thousand credits.”
“You said ten thousand credits a while ago.”
“You’re daft,” Mackenzie said firmly. “I said nothing of the sort. At least, you canna prove that I did.”
Gallegher said: “Well, suppose we have a drink and talk it over.” A new idea had struck him.
“An excellent suggestion.”
Gallegher found two glasses and manipulated the liquor organ. He offered one drink to Mackenzie, but the man shook his head and reached for the other glass. “Poison, perhaps,” he said cryptically. “You have an untrustworthy face.”
Gallegher ignored that. He was hoping that with two drinks available, the mysterious little brown animal would show its limitations. He tried to gulp the whisky fast, but only a tantalizing drop burned on his tongue. The glass was empty. He lowered it and stared at Mackenzie.
“A cheap trick,” Mackenzie said, putting his own glass down on the workbench. “I did not ask for your whisky, you know. How did you make it disappear like that?” Furious with disappointment, Gallegher snarled, “I’m a wizard. I’ve sold my soul to the devil. For two cents I’d make you disappear, too.”
Mackenzie shrugged. “I am not worried. If you could, you’d have done it before this. As for wizardry, I am far from skeptical, after seeing that monster squatting over there.” He indicated the third dynamo that wasn’t a dynamo.
“What? You mean you see it, too?”
“I see more than you think, Mr. Gallegher,” Mackenzie said darkly. “In fact, I am going to the police now.”
“Wait a minute. You can’t gain anything by that—”
“I can gain nothing by talking to you. Since you remain obdurate, I will try the police. If they can prove that Jonas is dead, I will at least collect his insurance.” Gallegher said, “Now wait a minute. Your partner did come here. He wanted me to solve a problem for him.”
“Ah. And have you solved it?”
“N-no. At least—”
“Then I can get no profit from you,” Mackenzie said firmly, and turned to the door. “You will hear from me vurra soon.” He departed. Gallegher sank down miserably on the couch and brooded. Presently he lifted his eyes to stare at the third dynamo.
It was not, then, a hallucination, as he had at first suspected. Nor was it a dynamo. It was a squat, shapeless object like a truncated pyramid that had begun to melt down, and two large blue eyes were watching him. Eyes, or agates, or painted metal. He couldn’t be sure. It was about three feet high and three feet in diameter at the base.
“Joe,” Gallegher said, “why didn’t you tell me about that thing?”
“I thought you saw it,” Joe explained.
“I did, but — what is it?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Where could it have come from?”
“Your subconscious alone knows what you were up to last night,” Joe said. “Perhaps Grandpa and Jonas Harding know, but they’re not around, apparently.”
Gallegher went to the teleview and put in a call to Maine. “Grandpa may have gone back home. It isn’t likely he’d have taken Harding with him, but we can’t miss any bets. I’ll check on that. One thing, my eyes have stopped watering. What was that gadget I made last night?” He passed to the workbench and studied the cryptic assemblage. “I wonder why I put a shoehorn in that circuit?”
“If you’d keep a supply of materials available here, Gallegher Plus wouldn’t have to depend on makeshifts,” Joe said severely.
“Uh. I could get drunk and let my subconscious take over again…no, I can’t. Joe, I can’t drink any more! I’m bound hand and foot to the water wagon!”
“I wonder if Dalton had the right idea after all?”
Gallegher snarled. “Do you have to extrude your eyes that way? I need help!”
“You won’t get it from me,” Joe said. “The problem’s extremely simple, if you’d put your mind to it.”
“Simple, is it? Then suppose you tell me the answer!”
“I want to be sure of a certain philosophical concept first.”
“Take all the time you want. When I’m rotting in jail, you can spend your leisure hours pondering abstracts. Get me a beer! No, never mind. I couldn’t drink it anyway. What does this little brown animal look like?”
“Oh, use your head,” Joe said.
Gallegher growled, “I could use it for an anchor, the way it feels. You know all the answers. Why not tell me instead of babbling?”
“Men can know the nature of things,” Joe said. “Today is the logical development of yesterday. Obviously you’ve solved the problem Adrenals, Incorporated gave you.”
“What? Oh. I see. Harding wanted a new animal or something.”
“Well?”
“I’ve got two of ’em,” Gallegher said. “That little brown invisible dipsomaniac and that blue-eyed critter sitting on the floor. Oh-ho! Where did I pick them up? Another dimension?”
“How should I know? You’ve got ’em.”
“I’ll sayl have,” Gallegher agreed. “Maybe I made a machine that scooped them off another world — and maybe Grandpa and Harding are on that world now! A sort of exchange of prisoners. I don’t know. Harding wanted non-dangerous beasts elusive enough to give hunters a thrill — but where’s the element of danger?” He gulped. “Conceivably the pure alienage of the critters provides that illusion. Anyway, I’m shivering.
“ Flooding of the blood stream with adrenal gives tone to the whole system,” Joe said smugly.
“So I captured or got hold of those beasts somehow, apparently, to solve Harding’s problem…mm-m.” Gallegher went to stand in front of the shapeless blue-eyed creature. “Hey, you,” he said.
There was no response. The mild blue eyes continued to regard nothing. Gallegher poked a finger tentatively at one of them.