After a moment of appalled silence, O'Leary burst out, "Damn right I do!" He stopped short as the gavel banged again.
"Looky here, boy," the judge said without heat. "No profanity in the court."
"Sorry about that," Lafayette said contritely. "But this is no trial! I don't even know what I'm accused of!"
"No matter; the rest of us do."
"Not me," Tode spoke up from behind O'Leary. "Him and me both, we're innercent is what we are."
"And," the judge went on, "you're not 'accused', O'Leary; you're convicted."
"Of what?" O'Leary and Tode said together.
"Can you deny ..." the judge said sternly, at the same time beckoning to a gaudily attired couple sitting in the front row of the sparse audience. They rose and bustled forward eagerly, skirting O'Leary to take up proprietary positions flanking the podium. "Uh, can you deny, as I was saying," the jurist continued, peering sharply at Lafayette, "that on the fourteenth instant— that would be yesterday—at approximately nine pee em, you did willfully disposess the plaintiffs, Chuck and Chick, of the motel accommodations which they had reserved, engaged, and paid for in advance, at a time they were briefly absent therefrom?"
"Well, not exactly," O'Leary responded dubiously.
"We're the Chick and Chuck of 'Chuckles with Chick and Chuck', a clean family act which we're playing the Twilight Room of the Holiday Inn right here in Duluth," the male member of the duo of variety artists volunteered in the silence which followed O'Leary's statement. O'Leary recognized him as the paunchy man he had seen in the gray room. "Which we stepped out for a bite after we unpacked," Chuck went on, "and when we come back we couldn't find our room no place. Seemed like there was just a kinda open space where it shoulda been. Checked the number, too: skipped right from one thirteen to one seventeen. We didn't hardly know what to do. Then this cop feller came along, and here we are."
"... and all our brand-new costumes in there, too," Chick mourned. "Most of 'em not even wore yet—and he's wearing one of 'em right now!" She pointed an indignant finger at Lafayette.
"So's he," Chuck added, aiming an accusatory digit at Marv, who had retired to a position behind Tode.
"Well," the judge growled, scowling at O'Leary. "I'm waiting. Can you make such denial? Remember, you're under oath."
"I am not!" Lafayette declared. "I just got here, and I don't know what's going on. I'm sorry about Chuck and Chick, but I can explain."
"Very well," the judge said agreeably. "Explain."
"I guess I can't exactly explain," Lafayette confessed. "But I didn't mean any harm. I mean, we were cold and wet and hungry, and I just thought it would be nice if we had a first-class motel room waiting for us."
"So you tooken ourn!" Chuck supplied. "Dern if I can see how you done it; must be one o' them new packaged-unit buildings like I seen onta the tube."
"So you admit taking the room," the judge recapped carefully, "but you plead necessity."
"I didn't take it on purpose," Lafayette protested. "I mean, it was like the time I wanted a bathtub, and I got one with Daphne in it. You see, when I seem to conjure up something out of thin air by focusing the Psychical Energies, I'm not really creating it; I'm just shifting it from another, nearby locus. So there was no malicious intent."
"Now we're getting somewheres," the judge said in a satisfied tone. He motioned unobtrusively, and two uniformed bailiffs moved in to flank O'Leary closely. The judge was peering sharply at him. "You confess freely and without duress, that you did willfully tamper with the entropic integrity of this locus, known and referred to hereafter as Alpha Nine-Two, Plane V-87, Fox 1-W."
"Hey!" O'Leary yelled. "That's not far from Artesia, only Artesia's Fox 221-b! We're almost back! I guess we've been luckier than we thought," he added more calmly to Marv.
"I assume," the judge, whose name O'Leary belatedly saw lettered on a brass plate on the lecturn, was Grossfarb, continued implacably, "that you are aware that this constitutes a gross violation of the GRC."
"I never heard of it," Lafayette said. "Or maybe Belarius mentioned it."
"Ignorance of the law is no excuse, Bub," the judge returned coldly.
"Still, it goes to establish that my intent was innocent," Lafayette insisted.
Grossfarb turned pages before him. "This whole matter is quite irregular," he grumped. "I'd be tempted to throw it out, except for the fact that I have an Emergency Directive here, specifying that you're to be detained at all costs." He looked at O'Leary. "You don't look dangerous," he conceded. "Still, we all remember the Axe-handle Killer. He was only nine years of age and had an angelic appearance. Now, before I remand you to custody, I want to clear up a few minor points, just for my own satisfaction:
"Where is your probability engine hidden?"
"I don't know what that is," O'Leary replied with dignity. "And I certainly don't own one."
"No question of ownership," Judge Grossfarb corrected. " 'Possession' is the word. Though I confess I don't see how you could transport and hide a fifty-ton unit, which is the minimum, I am assured by my advisers, required to dislocate an entire motel suite."
"It's ridiculous," O'Leary pointed out. "I arrived here on foot, not packing a Mack truck on my back."
"To be sure," Grossfarb murmured. "Still, I'm given no latitude in the matter. Bailiff—" he broke off as the courtroom doors were thrust open and a man dressed in immaculate black strode in, heading directly for the bench.
"Order!" Grossfarb barked weakly as the newcomer briefly flashed a bit of bright metal, then leaned on the podium and addressed the judge confidentially.
"It's irregular!" the latter said in protest, at which the Man in Black took out a folded document from an inner pocket and slapped it down in front of Grossfarb, who rose, looking flustered, and addressed the room:
"Jurisdiction in this case has been preempted by an overriding authority," he announced. "Bailiffs, pass custody of the prisoners"—he paused at a word from the Man in Black, then resumed—"prisoner, that is; the tall one; put the other fellow away until I've clarified the matter furthur. Turn this O'Leary over to His Excellency here. The present action is nol prossed." He sat looking frustrated.
Lafayette turned to speak to Marv, who was staring, open-mouthed, at the Man in Black standing by the bench in an attitude of patience stretched to the limit.
"Al, that there's the Man in Black!" he gasped. "He's as bad a spook as you are—I mean ..."
"I recognize him," O'Leary said. "He's a big-shot Prime agent named Frumpkin. I wonder how he got here."
"Quite simply," Frumpkin spoke up. "I followed you, Sir Lafayette, and a merry chase it's been. Your resourcefulness has quite surprised me."
"What happened to Belarius?" Lafayette blurted.
"Alas, he was a trifle slow in his last transfer—from the laboratory, you'll recall. He fetched up somewhere in uncontrolled space-time, no doubt, poor chap. Another crime to be laid at your feet, fellow-me-lad."
"I had nothing to do with it," O'Leary rebutted.
Chapter Fourteen
"It is your contention," Frumpkin asked carefully, eyeing Lafayette keenly, "that you are a native of this desolate locus? That you are not guilty of unsanctioned shifting, that you have employed no probability device?"
"No," Lafayette replied stiffly. "That is not my contention. If you'd let me say something, I could tell you what my contention is."
"Say all you like, young fellow," Frumpkin acceded easily. "But I doubt you'll be able to say anything which will give the lie to the official recordings of your unexampled peregrinations." He tapped the papers he held in one hand. "It's all here, lad. I'm merely giving you an opportunity to demonstrate whatever vestigial sense of social responsibility you may possess, by speaking up manfully, to confess the part you've played in this gigantic crime."