They walked until they were close to the center of the spacewheel, came to a small door in the curved wall of Central Control. Auditor Kurt ordered it open.
It hissed back and they stepped through.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Powys," said the Fireclown amiably.
CHAPTER NINE
"SO you did come here," Helen blurted out.
"I have no idea how you, deduced it." He grinned. "But I must praise your intelligence. I hope no one else on Earth thinks as you do."
Alan kept silent. They would be safer if they didn't tell the Fireclown how they had worked out his hiding place. He looked around. Corso and the woman were also there, lounging in their seats and staring amusedly at the rest.
He felt dwarfed by the Fireclown's bulk, not only physically-the man stood at least six foot six-but also psychologically. He could only stare stupidly, unable to say anything. Yet it was peculiar. Now that they were face to face he did not feel afraid any longer. The man's strange magnetism was tangible, and once again he found himself liking the Fireclown, unable to believe that he had committed an act of mass murder and plotted to blow up the Earth.
"So you are Alan Powys," mused the Fireclown, as if the name had some special meaning. His face was still heavily painted, with wide lips and exaggerated eyes, but Alan could make out the features under the paint a little clearer.
They seemed thoughtful.
"And why are you here, anyway?" Corso said, moving his repulsive red and glinting body in the chair.
"To ask questions," Helen said. She was pale and Alan could understand why-the skinless man took a lot of getting used to.
"Questions!" The Clown's body moved in a great shrug. He turned his back on them and paced towards his seated friends. "Questions! By the solar firmament! What questions can I answer?"
"They are simple-and demand only simple replies, if you are truthful with us."
The Fireclown whirled round and laughed richly. "I never lie. Didn't you know that? I never lie!"
"But perhaps you mislead," Alan said quietly. "May I sit down?"
"Of course."
They both sat down.
"We want to know if you planned to blow up the world," Helen said with a trace of nervousness in her voice.
"Why should I? I wanted to save it, not hurt it."
"You did a good job with the fire which swept Switzerland," Alan retorted.
"Am I to blame for that? I warned them not to tamper."
"Are you trying to tell us you weren't responsible for that fire?" Alan said grimly.
"I’ve been watching the lasercasts. I’m aware of what's being said of me now.
They are fickle, those people. If they had really listened to me this would not have happened. But nobody listened properly."
"I agree with that." Alan nodded. "I saw them-they were using you as a means of rousing their own latent emotions. But you should have known what you were doing and stopped P' "I never know what I am doing. I am…" The Fireclown paused and glared at him. "I was not responsible for the fire. Not directly, at any rate. Some of those policemen must have tampered with my fire machines. They are very delicate. I have been experimenting with means of controlling chemical and atomic fire. I produced that little artificial sun and could have produced more if I had not been interrupted by those meddlers."
"Why are you experimenting with fire? What's your purpose?" Helen leaned forward in her chair.
"Why? I have no reasons. I am the Fireclown. I have no purpose save to exist as the Fireclown. You do me too much honor, Miss Curtis, to expect action and plans from me. For a time I spoke to the people in Switzerland. Now that's over I shall do something else." He roared with laughter again, his grotesque body shaking.
"If you have no plans, no thought for the future, then why did you buy P-bombs from the arms dealers?"
"I know nothing of bombs or dealers! I had no inkling that those bombs were in my cavern!"
Either he was blinded by the Fireclown's overpowering presence or the man was telling the truth, Alan felt. He seemed to have a lusty disregard for all the things that concerned Helen and himself. He did not seem to exist in the time and space that Alan shared with the rest of the human race, seemed to tower over it, observing it with complete and amused detachment. But how far could he trust this impression? Alan wondered. Perhaps the Fireclown was the best actor in the world.
"You must know something of what's happening?' Helen exclaimed. "Your appearance at a time of acute crisis in society's development could not be mere coincidence."
"Society has had crises before, young lady." Again he shrugged. "It will have others. Crises are good for it!"
"I thought you ingenuous, then I changed my mind. I can't make you out at all."
She sank back into the chair.
"Why should you make me out? Why should you waste time trying to analyze others when you have never bothered to look within yourself? My own argument against machines and machine-living is that it hampers man from really looking into his own being. You have to take him away from it, put him in the wilderness for a short time, before you can see that I speak truth. In my way I worship the sun, as you know. Because the sun is the most tangible of nature's workings!"
"I thought you represented a new breakthrough in thought," Helen said quietly.
"I thought you knew where you were going. That is why I supported you, identified myself and my party with you."
"There is no need to seek salvation in others, young lady!" Again he became disconcertingly convulsed with that weird and enigmatic laughter.
She got up, bridling.
"Very well, I’ve learned my lesson. I believe you when you say you weren't planning destruction. I'm going back to Earth to tell them that!"
"I’m afraid Mr. Corso here, who advises me on such matters, has suggested that you stay for a while, until I am ready to leave."
Alan saw his logic. "When are you leaving?" he said.
"A few days, I expect. Perhaps less."
"You won't, of course, tell us where." Alan smiled at the Fireclown for the first time and when the man returned his smile, grotesquely exaggerated by the paint around his lips, he felt dazzled, almost petrified with warmth and happiness. It was the Fireclown's only answer.
Why did the Fireclown have this ability to attract and hold people just as if they were moths drawn to a flame?
Auditor Kurt had left the room while they were conversing. Now he returned with another man behind him.
"A visitor for you, Fireclown."
Both Alan and Helen turned their heads to look at the newcomer. He was a small, dark man with a moody face. A marijuana was between his lips.
"I commend you on your choice of rendezvous," he said somewhat mockingly. His hooded eyes glanced at the others in the room, stopped for a moment on Alan and Helen. He looked questioningly at the Fireclown. "I hope you haven't been indiscreet, my friend."
"No," said the Fireclown shortly. He chuckled. "Well, Mr. Bias, have you brought what I wanted?"
"Certainly. It is outside in the ship I came with. We must talk. Where?"
"Is this not private enough for you?" the Fireclown asked petulantly.
"No, it is not. I have to be over-cautious, you understand."
The Fireclown lumbered towards the door, ducking beneath it as he made his way out. "Corso," he shouted from the corridor, "you'd better come, too."
The skinless man got up and followed Bias from the room. The door closed.
"Bias," Helen said forlornly. "So the Fireclown has been lying to us."
"Who is he?"
"Suspected head of the arms syndicate." She sighed. "Damn! Oh, damn the Fireclown P'
The woman, a full-bodied brunette with a sensuously generous mouth, got up from her seat.