‘Isn’t that what they’re doing already?’ asked Tiger.
‘Which shows their commitment to things continuing as they are,’ I said.
‘Right,’ agreed Perkins, ‘but nearly all of them said they would also trust in the judgement of Kazam’s manager.’
‘That’s not good,’ I said, ‘Zambini is still missing.’
‘They didn’t mean Zambini,’ said Perkins, ‘and even though half of them don’t know your name and refer to you as “the sensible-looking girl with the ponytail” they’re all behind you.’
There were over two thousand years of combined experience in the building, and that wealth of knowledge had approved of what I did. All of a sudden, I felt stronger and more confident thanks to their trust. But it didn’t solve our immediate problems.
‘What about you?’ I said to Perkins. ‘Are you going to take the two million moolah?’
Perkins looked at me with a frown.
‘And miss all this craziness? Not for anything. I’m astonished you even had to ask.’
‘Thank you.’
We said nothing for several moments.
‘We found out where the “infinite thinness” enchantment was coming from,’ said Tiger, ‘though not who might have cast it.’
He rose and went across to my desk and passed a pocket Shandarmeter across the small terracotta pot. The needle on the gauge showed a peak reading of two thousand Shandars. We didn’t know how the enchantment that protected the old building worked nor who was casting it, but this was the source.
I picked the ring out of the pot. It was utterly plain and unremarkable – just large. I had a thought and picked up the phone.
‘Are you calling Blix?’ asked Perkins.
‘No – the Mighty Shandar’s agent. We need to find out more.’
I dialled the number the so-called ‘Ann Shard’ had given me, and after two rings it was answered.
‘Miss D’Argento?’ I said. ‘It’s Jennifer Strange.’
‘I can see my impertinent yet wholly necessary subterfuge took a modicum of cerebral activity to divine,’ she announced in her odd Longspeak, ‘but in this pursuit you were proved correct.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘It took you a few days to figure out I wasn’t Ann Shard.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Yes.’
There was a pause before she carried on.
‘Is this communication to impart knowledge about the geographical whereabouts regarding my client’s mother’s ring?’
‘We haven’t got it, if that’s what you mean, but yes, it is about the ring: what’s so special about it and why did the Mighty Shandar want it found?’
‘There is nothing special about it,’ she said simply, ‘you have my word on that.’
‘And Shandar’s reason for wanting it found?’
‘We have many clients,’ said Miss D’Argento in a mildly annoyed tone, ‘and we never betray their confidence.’
Zambini was right; it had been Shandar. If there wasn’t at least some truth in it, she would have simply laughed or dismissed it out of hand.
‘Is there anything else?’ asked Shandar’s agent. ‘Miss D’Argento is really most frightfully busy.’
She was talking about herself again.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The next time Shandar wakes from granite, tell him that we’ll be after him once Zambini is freed – and he will be, mark my words.’
‘Goodbye, Miss Strange. We’ll meet again, I’m sure.’
And the phone went dead. I relayed what she had said to the others, but none of it seemed to help much, except to perhaps confirm what we suspected – that the Mighty Shandar was keeping a watchful eye on events here in the Kingdom of Snodd, and that if Shandar was behind Zambini’s disappearance, then it was going to be trebly tough getting Zambini back.
‘Hullo, Jennifer,’ said a voice from the sofa, ‘did my vision work out?’
‘It did, thank you, Kevin.’
It was Zipp, our precog. He looked tired and drawn. He usually did when trying extra specially hard to see more clearly into the foggy murk of the yet-to-be.
‘Do I get a ten?’
‘On both counts.’
Tiger dutifully fetched the Visions Book so I could rate Kevin’s powers. I turned to the correct page, and noted that his last vision, the one by which we found Zambini, was coded RAD105. I gave him a ten for this, countersigned it and then gave him ten also for RAD095. It took his Correct Vision Strike Average up to 76 per cent – just out of ‘Remarkable’ and into ‘Exceptional’, but not yet beyond the 90 per cent mark and the highest accolade of all, ‘Blistering’.
‘Jenny?’ said Tiger, who had been staring at the entries in the Visions Book. ‘What does that look like to you?’
‘RAD105?’
‘No, I mean, what if the 5 was an S? What would you think then?’
‘RADIOS?’
I stared at Tiger and he stared back. The kid was a genius.
‘Kevin,’ I said excitedly, ‘are you still getting the “Vision Boss” prediction?’
‘I had it again just now. Why?’
‘It could mean ‘Vision BO55’. You may have just had a vision . . . about a vision.’
‘That’s a first,’ said Kevin, unfazed by it all, as usual.
Tiger dashed off to the library to fetch the relevant volume of the Precognitives’ Gazetteer of Visions.
‘It must have been made some time in the mid-seventies to be numbered so low,’[35] observed Perkins.
‘We’ll soon find out.’
Tiger returned with a dusty volume and laid it down in front of me. I soon found the entry.
‘Vision BO55, 10 October 1974,’ I read, ‘was seen by Sister Yolanda of Kilpeck.’
‘Yolanda? Cool. What was it about?’
‘Doesn’t say. It was a private consultation – contents undisclosed.’
‘If it was Sister Yolanda it probably will or did come true,’ said Kevin. ‘She didn’t make many, but her strike rate was always good. Who was the recipient?’
I read the name and suddenly felt cold all over.
‘Mr Conrad Blix of Blix Grange, Blix Street, Hereford.’
We all looked at one another. Blix was involved in a strong prophecy from Sister Yolanda, and Kevin had been hinting at it all week, just without knowing it. We’d be fools not to pick up on a lead like this.
‘I think we need to find the contents of that vision – and quickly,’ said Tiger.
‘Easier said than done,’ I replied. ‘It was a private consultation. Only Blix would have the details.’
‘We need someone at iMagic,’ observed Tiger, ‘someone on the inside.’
‘Who?’ asked Perkins. ‘Corby, Muttney and Samantha are all loyal to a fault.’
I thought for a moment.
‘Perkins,’ I said, ‘you’ve just betrayed us.’
‘I have?’
‘Like the worst kind of leaving-the-sinking-ship rat. I want you to accept Blix’s offer for two million moolah, get into Blix Grange, go to where Blix keeps his records and find out what Vision BO55 relates to.’
‘How am I going to do that?’
‘I don’t know. Guile and ingenuity?’
But Perkins was still reluctant.
‘Blix will never believe me. He’ll think it’s a trick of some sort.’
‘You’re right,’ I said, ‘he’ll need convincing.’
Reader, I punched him. Right in the eye, a real corker – a punch such as I’d never inflicted on anyone, except that time back at the orphanage when Tamara Glickstein was bullying the smaller kids.
‘YOW!’ yelled Perkins. ‘What was that for?’
‘He’ll believe you now. Tell him I went apeshit when you betrayed us. Tell him I’ve gone a bit loopy.’
35
Visions were not allocated code numbers until late 1973, something that had been long overdue. The main reason was to enable precogs to calculate an official strike rating, and thus a logical scale of payment.