This decided, he felt a sense of accomplishment which he recognized as out of proportion to his actual achievement. He determined to take it easy, resort to no desperate measures, and to look for the unexpected opportunity. Meanwhile, it wouldn't hurt to take a peek out that window to check on the lay of the land. He pushed a dusty crate into position under the window, climbed up, and looked out at a narrow slice of street visible between corroded red bricks on the left and a slant of heavily tarred roof on the right. An intersection was partly visible, and a drug store on the corner. A dusty old Buick was parked on the side street, and a man stood leaning on it, his arms folded. The man was Marv. Lafayette blinked and looked again; there was no doubt of it. Old Marv, here, in this far-out locus! How had he managed it? He was dressed in an anonymous suit and seemed quite at home, gnawing a toothpick and idly gazing up toward Lafayette's vantage point. Marv's head jerked in a mild double take. He was looking Lafayette squarely in the eyes. He came away from the car, swiftly consulted his wristwatch, glanced around him, and returned his gaze to O'Leary. He raised a hand and gestured a furtive greeting. Lafayette ducked back, climbed quickly down, and without hesitation thrust open the door and was back in the big airy room with the narrow bed and faintly steaming tray on the table. Dr. Smith was gone.
"Clever," Lafayette conceded. "Just when I'd decided to play it my own way, they spring Marv on me, and I nearly took the bait. It would have been an easy drop from that window to the ledge, then to the adjacent roof, and no doubt all the way down I'd've found a wide-open route. But I'm not taking it. So they'll have to think up another one. But who is this 'they' I'm blaming everything on? Sounds remarkably like paranoia. I'd better be careful what I think even." He went across to the door the doctor had used; as he neared it he heard voices on the other side:
"... careful. A shock at this point, and all our careful work could be undone. He's in a delicate condition, you must remember, balanced on a knife-edge."
"Sure, I know all that—but we can't just sit on the case. You know as well as I do he'll expect expeditious action."
"Of course, Mel, and the first step is to get him out of here to a safe place; so let's do it."
Then the latch rattled and the door opened, causing Lafayette to step quickly aside. A man whom Lafayette had never before seen came through at a brisk pace. He paused to turn and look incuriously at O'Leary.
"You're all ready," he commented. "Good. We're a bit early, but no matter."
The other man busied himself closing the door, and it was some moments before Lafayette caught a clear look at his warty face, which he recognized at once as that of Fred, one of the two giant faces from the hallucination about being hooked like a fish.
"It's good to see a familiar face, Fred," Lafayette said glibly. "There are a few points I wish you'd clear up for me. First, where was I when you and Les found me?"
Fred gave Lafayette an astonished look, then turned to his colleague: "Hasn't this subject received initial conditioning?"
"Well, as to that..." Mel hesitated. "You recall this is a special case, referred in by Number One personally."
"Say, fellows, if you'll excuse me," Lafayette cut in heedlessly. "I think I'd better see to my tropical fish. See you soon. Ta." He jostled past Fred, still hovering in the doorway and set off briskly down a long, well-lit corridor.
"One moment, there!" Fred's authoritative voice rang out belatedly. Lafayette ignored it and went through a door on the left marked 'Private. No Entry', and found himself at the top of a steep flight of gray concrete steps with a rusted handrail improvised of two-inch I.D. galvanized pipe. He went down three steps at a time until he heard feet on the landing he had just vacated, accompanied by Fred's hoarse cry: "Stop, there!"
As O'Leary grabbed the newel to whirl around the next turn, he felt a sudden vertigo, as if he had spun around and around ...
The gray room again, Lafayette realized in frustration. Still, perhaps it was as good a hidey-hole as any—if he was really here and not just dreaming. He tried a step forward, found the faded rug normally firm underfoot. Neither Frumpkin nor Daphne was in sight. The big panel was off to the right, a trifle dim through the curiously semi-opaque air. He went to it and on impulse threw a large knife-switch marked MAIN STAGE ON OFF. As it slammed home, the dimness seemed to flicker for a moment, and at once Frumpkin's hoarse voice rang out. "No! Get away from that!"
Quickly, Lafayette opened and closed other switches at random, noting no effect other than a busy blinking among the idiot lights on the panel.
"Look here," Frumpkin said more calmly, from near at hand now. "I'll... make a concession," he offered. "Stop now and there's no great mischief done, except perhaps for a few relatively minor astronomical oddities, the odd meteor, that sort of thing. Stop your sabotage at once, and I shall arrange for a retroaction in the case of Henriette. What say? Is it a gentleman's agreement?"
O'Leary glanced around at the renegade, looking haggard now, his once immaculate uniform dusty and rumpled.
"I don't know any Henriette," Lafayette said coldly, "and I wouldn't make a deal with you anyway. I don't trust you, you slimy little toad."
"Very well! Beverly, then, or Androgorre, or possibly Cynthia; whatever you choose to call her: the female upon whom you've anchored your defense, as young fellows will do. You're a fool. She sold you out at once when I mentioned the furs and jewels and other trifles she'd possess as a willing collaborator. Don't be a fool, O'Leary! Throw in with me and end this needless contest! There's plenty for us both in all the worlds of if!"
"If you knew how silly you sounded," Lafayette told Frumpkin, "you'd blush purple. Now bring Daphne here, right now, or I'll have to close the big one marked "PROGRAM DUMP."
"Certainly, lad, whatever you say; but she'll be disappointed, just you watch! Kindly just step back from the panel a trifle. And why here? You'll be trapped."
O'Leary put a hand on the DUMP switch. "Get going," he ordered. "You've got ten seconds."
"No! I mean, of course!" Frumpkin gabbled. "But it will take at least half a minute! Do nothing hasty, Mr. O'Leary!" Frumpkin backed away, still gibbering, then turned and ran, disappearing in the dimness. The room seemed to tilt, then began to slide sideways. Lafayette clung to a convenient post as the room whirled around him. Now he was leaping down narrow concrete steps, feeling dizzy; he staggered, caught himself, went on, down, down, into dusty daylight.
Chapter Ten
Lafayette reached another landing and whirled through a wire-glass door into a narrow foyer with elevator doors. I'll ask all the questions later, he promised himself, and punched a button at random; a moment later feet clattered hastily past the door behind him; then the door to his left whooshed open and Lafayette stepped in among fat ladies and a spidery old fellow carrying a paper-wrapped package.
"Come on, ain't got all the day," the old boy said in a ratchety voice.
"Sorry I'm late, sir," Lafayette replied diffidently. "Want me to take over now?" He eased the big flat package from the oldster's hands and glanced at the address:
Global Presentation, A.G., 113 Bayberry Bldg, Suite B. Attn: Dr. Glovewelt.
"Say, that's square of you, fellow," the elderly courier cried, exercising his arm in exaggerated mime of severe cramping. "Goes on my ticket, o' course," he added. "After all, I'm the one signed for it."