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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..25a6127 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65482 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65482) diff --git a/old/65482-0.txt b/old/65482-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c28a908..0000000 --- a/old/65482-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7772 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Green Millennium, by Fritz Leiber - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Green Millennium - -Author: Fritz Leiber - -Release Date: June 1, 2021 [eBook #65482] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREEN MILLENNIUM *** - - - - - THE GREEN MILLENNIUM - - FRITZ LEIBER - - AN ACE BOOK - - Ace Publishing Corporation - 1120 Avenue of the Americas - New York, N.Y. 10036 - - Copyright, 1953, by Fritz Leiber - - An Ace Book, by arrangement with the Author. - - All Rights Reserved - - [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any - evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - _Cover by John Schoenherr._ - - For BOB, FRANK, HANK, GERT, and WENDELL - - Printed in U.S.A. - - - - -The world Phil Gish lived in was not a pretty one, and Phil didn't -enjoy living in it. He was disillusioned, purposeless, hopeless, and -haunted by the fear that a robot would take over his job. But then Phil -was a timid person, not much given to adventure seeking. If he hadn't -been so mild he might have found his kicks at All Amusements, the -syndicated playground where anyone could find fun, providing he had the -proper sadistic and otherwise aberrated elements in his personality. -But Phil was good--and bored. - -And then one day a cat perched on his window--not an ordinary cat--a -green cat. For the first time in years Phil was happy. He promptly -named the cat Lucky because he somehow knew that as long as the cat -stayed with him he'd feel fine. But Lucky didn't stay long. In a matter -of minutes he had disappeared into All Amusements park. It was then -that Phil became involved in a grotesque world, peopled with the most -extraordinary personalities. Just what the cat is and its ultimate -meaning is the secret of it all. You will be surprised. - - - - - I - - -Phil Gish woke up feeling as good as if all his previous life had -happened to two other guys--poor, miserable clunks! - -Usually his whip-cracking reflexes had him out of bed in a flash and -jerking on his shorts and sockasins while he frantically hunted around -for the jar of beard-dissolving cream. But this time he was able to -outsmart all tyrannous nerve-impulses and keep his eyes closed in order -to enjoy the unprecedented sensation all to himself, not even sharing -it with the advertisement-covered walls of his tiny bachelor apartment. - -Why, it was simply wonderful, he decided after a bit. Outrageously, -impossibly wonderful! - -He actually felt as if this were not a world in which hot and cold -wars had been gushing unpredictably for fifty years like temperamental -faucets, in which the Federal Bureau of Loyalty and Fun Incorporated -ruled the U. S. A. in the name of that drunken, hymn-singing farmer, -President Robert T. Barnes, and in which (according to the Kremlin -Newsmoon, located on an earth-circling satellite vehicle) a new plan -was being considered for exchanging the descendants of prisoners taken -in the half-century-old Korean War. - -And as if he, Phil Gish, weren't a luck-forsaken little guy who on -waking at eight o'clock this morning hadn't taken four sleeping pills -in order to kill the day and temporarily forget that he had just lost -another job to a robot who did it five times as fast and twice as -accurately, and that he'd had a blow-up because of it and been coldly -advised to see a psychiatrist. - -He took a long, luxurious breath. Even the air smelt and felt -different, as if dusted with some golden chemical that banished care. - -He opened his eyes and looked down at his pale chest with the two lone -hairs that were a sardonic last farewell from glorious jungle ape-hood. -But this time the word that came to him was "slim," not "scrawny." He -rather liked his body, he decided--a neat and compact, if not exactly -out-size, bit of tissue. He yawned, stretched, scratched where the two -hairs were, and looked around. The green cat sat on the sill of the -large open circular window, smiling at him. - -"Hey, am I dreaming?" - -The sound of his own voice, with its hint of a morning croak, answered -that question. - -_Or have I really blasted off from behind the hair line?_ The second -question, thought not spoken, was quickly suppressed. He felt too -good to let it worry him. If this was insanity, then three cheers for -paranoia! - -Besides, there were all sorts of natural explanations of the cat's -somewhat unconventional color. Just yesterday Phil had seen a young -matron leading two rose-colored poodles. A flash of what might be an -off-the-bosom dress under her cloak had moved him to pass close enough -to hear her assure her companion, "They aren't dye-jobs, you mood-mad -man. They're mutations!" - -Also, weren't some animals naturally green, like the tree-sloth? Though -he seemed to recall that the tree-sloth's hue was due to a fungus or -mold, and there certainly wasn't any mold on the burnished bundle of -benignity on his window sill. - -"Hiya, Lucky," he greeted softly. From the very first he had decided to -connect the cat with his newborn, incredible sense of well-being. If -there was going to be a new era in his life, it was a good idea to have -a symbol for it--a symbol green as spring itself. Besides, it felt that -way. - -"C'mere, Lucky," he called without lifting his head from the spongy -pillow. "Here, Kitty." - -The second invitation, which sounded a trifle silly to Phil as soon as -he said it, wasn't necessary. The cat at once dropped its plump-tummied -body from the window sill and trotted toward him like a soft-shod fat -little horse. Phil felt an odd increase, almost frightening, in the -calm joy inside him. The cat disappeared momentarily under the angle of -the bedside. Then a little green face came over the edge and two tiny -green paws placed themselves beside it, and two coppery eyes inspected -him. - -"How are you, fellow?" Phil asked. "Glad to make your acquaintance. -You're a cool little cuss, all right. Where did you come from?" - -The little face tipped upward. - -"From upstairs?" Phil asked and instantly chuckled at himself for -interpreting the movement as a gesture. "Why not stay with me for a -while? I like your looks and I admire your color. Often wished I were -green myself. Anything for variety--begging your pardon." - -It was a strange and curiously attractive cat face. The ears were -large, the forehead high, the nose-button lost in furry down, the -whiskers hardly apparent, and the mouth had a suggestion of a pucker -or pout. For a fleeting instant Phil had the notion Lucky might look -rather different, rather less like a cat, if caught unawares. And he -was really very green--the green of tarnished copper, only brighter. - -Thinking the word "he," Phil wondered for a fleeting instant about -Lucky's sex. The fat tummy was suggestive. Yet he was somehow sure the -cat was a male. - -Then Lucky smiled again and Phil was aware only of feelings. He reached -out a tentative hand, jerked it back when a little paw flicked out at -it, then shamefacedly corrected the gesture. The little paw touched his -middle finger. Phil stroked the silken paw in turn. Neither time could -he feel a hint of claws. They must all be tucked inside their smooth -sheathes. - -"Now we're friends," Phil said huskily. The cat sprang fearlessly onto -the bed. Coppery eyes came close. A furry cheek briefly brushed Phil's -with casual masculine friendliness. Sudden tears smarted in Phil's -eyes, enough to brim the lids but not to run over. - -What a lonely, empty-lifed fool he must be, he told himself, that a -cat could make him cry. Yet it was true enough. All his life had been -a fading. His parents had seemed warm and wonderful at first, but then -he had begun to sense their gray uncertainties and boredoms. School had -been full of breath-taking promise at one point, with infinite vistas -of knowledge and idealistic brotherhood opening up; but too many of the -vistas had ended in signs saying "restricted" or "subversive" or the -even more maddening blank signs of calculated silence--just as man had -promised himself he'd reach the planets soon, but hadn't. Phil had had -friends, too, at one time, and had really been in love with girls; but -even that had somehow become washed out and worthless. And then the -endless business of being beaten out of jobs by white-collar robots, -beginning with the mail-sorting robots who fed envelopes into the -proper slots by scanning their addresses photoelectrically. The only -thing robots couldn't do, it seemed, was sit in foxholes. That was one -place where Phil recalled no mechanical competition. - -Yes, it had been a very empty, purposeless life indeed, Phil told -himself, at the same time wondering why even that thought could not mar -his present happiness. - -He came out of his reverie and saw that the cat was marching down the -bed, closely inspecting his naked body. - -"Hey, we're friends, but that's going too far. Leave me _some_ -privacy!" Chuckling, he swung out of bed, grabbing up a light robe -as his body left the cone of radiant heat projected from the ceiling -fixture. While shouldering into the robe he hummed a couple of bars -from "Kiss Me, Darling, in Free-Fall" and did a shuffling step that -brought the cat hurrying over to play tag with his toes. - -"Where _did_ you come from, Lucky?" Phil repeated and turned toward the -window. In the three steps it took him to reach it, his gaze lit on -the near-empty dispenser of sleeping pills and for a moment the eerie -doubt came back: mightn't this morning's overdose have triggered off or -paralleled a really big change in his mind? After all, this cat wasn't -normal (and neither were hallucinations!) and his crazy, inexplicable -happiness was altogether too much like the inner world of godlike -perfection into which the paranoiac is supposed to retreat. - -But then he was at the window experiencing a new twist in his mood and -the doubt was forgotten. - -The window opened on a deep, very narrow bay in the remodeled monster -hotel in which Phil roomed. If he risked his neck by leaning out -very far, he could just manage to look out of the bay and glimpse an -advertisement-encrusted corner of Fun Incorporated's wrestling center -and the helicopter field on its roof. The hotel had been built as -a luxury palace for the new war-rich of the 1970's but during the -great housing shortage of the 1980's its vast rooms had been cut up -into tiny sleeping cells. It retained, however, at least one feature -from its lordly days: the large circular windows formed of two sheets -of polarizing glass, the inner of which could be rotated, allowing a -person to blacken his window or have it fully transparent or enjoy any -shade of twilight. One other very unusual luxury touch was that the -windows could actually be opened, swinging on pivots at top and bottom. -Nowadays, with radiant sleep-heating general throughout the hotel and -the air-conditioning system anything but trustworthy, this last feature -was put to real use more often than might have been expected, though -windows were still kept closed most of the daytime. - -It had always seemed to Phil that the great gray wall just ten feet -from his window, with its rows of ominous portholes, many of them -blackened, was the grimmest sight in the world--a symbol of the way he -was walled off from life and people. - -But now, as he stood leaning out just a little, his cropped hair -brushing the tarnished circular rim, it seemed to him that he could -imagine his way through that wall as if it were made of some material -that conducted emotion as copper conducts electricity. Not see or -think through it, but _feel_ through it to the multiple texture of -warm, pitiful, admirable, ridiculous human lives in the cubicles -behind: the two-fifths happy ones, the nine-tenths sad ones, the ones -who nursed fears and frustrations because you had to nurse something, -the ones who hammered fears and frustrations into a painful armor, -the old man apprehensively sorting his limp ration stamps from three -communo-capitalist wars, the boy playing spaceship and pretending the -blacked-out window was the porthole of a comic-book intergalactic -liner, the three unemployed secretaries--one of them pacing--the lovers -whose rendezvous was tainted with worries about the Federal Bureau -of Morality, the fat man feeling a girl's caress by radio handie and -thinking of something long ago, the old woman coddling her dread of -war-germs and atomic ashes by constantly dusting, dusting, dusting.... - -Well, his new self certainly had a vivid imagination, Phil decided with -a smile. - -An old hand came out of a porthole three floors down and shook -something--or nothing--from a dustpan. - -Coincidence, of course, or else he'd once watched the woman without -thinking about it--nevertheless, Phil chose to interpret the event as -an encouraging confirmation of his new feeling of outgoingness. Then -the smile left his lips as he thought of another aspect of the opposite -wall. - -This window was the vantage point where he had spent countless drearily -excited hours spying on the activities of all the young women whose -cubicles were even remotely within range. Not the new girl--the one who -wore her black hair in old-fashioned pony style--in the room straight -across, although she was quite beautiful in a sprightly, animal way, -and he sometimes heard her practicing tap-dancing. No, she was a bit -too close and besides, he was vaguely frightened of her. There was -something eerily dryad-like about her and, in any case, she blacked out -her porthole religiously. It was blacked out now, though slightly ajar. - -But all the other girls were recipients of his untiring, sterile -interest. The cute green-blonde just below and to the left, for -instance, Miss Phoebe Filmer (he'd once taken the unprecedentedly -realistic step of finding out her name), why, he'd sacrificed a sizable -chunk of his leisure time to that tantalizing minx. There she was at -this very moment dithering around in a short play robe, inspecting an -assortment of wispy lingerie--a very promising situation that normally -would have held Phil helpless for twenty minutes or more. But now he -found he could look at her and then look away without the faintest -gnawing worry he might miss something. Good Lord, if he wanted to -see more, in any sense, of Miss Phoebe Filmer, he'd scrape up an -acquaintance with her. - -"Prrrt!" A feathery, furry ball came into his hand and he looked down -at Lucky's apple-green face framed by his curving forefinger and thumb. - -"What d'ya want, cat?" - -Lucky ducked out of the cupped hand with a twist that let his forehead -and ear be rubbed, and put his front paws on the window rim. Phil -quickly advanced his hand so that it lightly circled the cat's chest. -He didn't want Lucky to get back out on the little ledge that led to -either side of the window. In fact, as Phil now definitely realized, -he didn't want Lucky to leave him at all, though something told him he -wouldn't be able to stop Lucky if the green cat really wanted to go. - -It occurred to Phil, with a certain shamefaced satisfaction, that all -pets were strictly forbidden in the Skyway Towers (cats and dogs were -pretty rare since the germ war days when they'd been slaughtered as -possible carriers) and so Lucky's owner wouldn't be able to do anything -openly about getting him back. - -But Lucky seemed to have no intention of leaving. He hopped to the -floor and looked eagerly at Phil. - -"Prrrt!" - -"Do you want something to eat? Is that it?" - -"Prrrt-prt!" - -Phil took mental inventory of his snack box and found himself thinking -of the cranberry concentrate. Wildly inappropriate--and yet something -assured him that it would be just right for Lucky. - -It was done quickly: a dark-red marble that swelled to a glistening -ruby golf ball at the touch of water, and then, at another sudden -inward prompting, the syrupy contents of a vitamino capsule poured over -it. - -The last ingredient smelled rather rank and by the time he set the odd -sundae on the floor, Phil was feeling quite doubtful. However, Lucky -examined it with all signs of approval, mewing in eagerness. But then -instead of beginning to eat, he looked up at Phil. Phil thought he -understood: cats have their special proprieties and delicacies. The -little chap wanted to eat in private. - -"Okay, fellow, I'll go shower. And I won't peek." - -Stepping inside the bathroom, he set the shower control to alternate -tepid and very warm. Instead it chose irresponsibly to alternate icy -and steaming, so that he leaped out with a yell. But the incident -didn't even scratch his mood. As he toweled himself (he didn't like the -air drier and toweling robots made him uneasy) he sang: - - We're out in space, they've cut the jet, - There isn't any ceiling, floor, or wall. - - Let's dance on air, or better yet-- - Hug me, love me, darling, in free-fall! - -He came out of the bathroom feeling like an emperor and fully -determined to inspect the world he owned, the world that was any -man's for the asking and a little courage. As he slipped on singlet, -trousers, sockasins and jacket, he explained his feelings to Lucky, who -had cleaned up every bit of his colorful meal. - -"You see, it's this way, fellow: I've always been three-quarters dead. -But not any more. I'm through with being scared and stand-offish and -bored. No more filing, dial-watching, and tape-cutting jobs, with some -about-to-be-invented robot breathing down my neck. I'm just going out -and look things over, talk to people, find out what it's all about. I'm -going to have adventures, really live. Some program, eh? And you know -who's responsible for it, fellow? You are." - -Lucky seemed fairly to fluoresce in appreciation. He fluffed his -gleaming green fur. - -Phil wondered what time it was. His wrist-watch had gone dead -yesterday, the cranky thing, only five months after having the battery -replaced. He stuck his head out the window and looked up the dizzy gray -crack to where the portholes were tiny dots and the slit ended in a -ribbon of blue sky. Only the top floor to the east was yellow with true -sunlight, though the false sunlight from the sodium mirror circling the -earth to make evening light for this city was beginning to show about -eight stories down. - -He scooped up Lucky without a thought of leaving him behind or a worry -as to the attention he might attract. But the verdant cat sprang from -his arms and made for the hall door, looking back as if to say, "I'm -right there with you and game for any adventure, too, but I don't need -a nurse." - -Side by side they walked to the stairs and down to twenty-eight--the -overworked elevator stopped only at even-numbered floors. And there he -ran into Phoebe Filmer, play robe swishing and apparently headed for -the snack bar on twenty-eight. - -"Hello, Miss Filmer," he heard himself say. "I've admired you for a -long time." - -"You have?" she said, glancing at him sideways. "How did you know my -name?" - -"Just asked the desk robot who the beautiful girl was in 28-303a." - -She tittered with a faintly flirtatious contempt. "You don't talk to -the desk robot. You just punch buttons and it won't give out names when -you punch room numbers, unless you have a government key." - -"I have a way with robots," Phil explained. "I win their confidence -with small talk." - -"Well," Miss Filmer observed, turning her head and running her hand -through her green-gold hair. - -"Say, how do you like my green cat?" Phil inquired. - -"A green cat!" Miss Filmer exclaimed excitedly. She looked down quickly -and then up skeptically. "Where?" - -Phil looked down too. Lucky wasn't anywhere in sight. A hunk of ice -materialized inside his chest. "Excuse me," he said. "I hope I'll see -you again." - -He raced to the stub corridor. Lucky was standing in front of the -elevator. - -"Gee, fellow," Phil told him. "Don't give me heart failure." - - - - - II - - -The street snarled at Phil. The snarl came chiefly from a charged-up -electric hot rod that swerved close to the curb to remove a triangular -chunk from the rump of a fat man who had been too slow in skittering to -safety. A second look showed he was not a fat man, but a thin man in a -balloon suit. It deflated rapidly, and he sat down in its limp folds -on the curb and began to sob. Balloon suits were of no real protection -to pedestrians, except by increasing the apparent target, but they -continued as a fad. During the last war they had been pumped full of -hydrogen as a shield against neutrons until a couple of small but -unpleasant explosions in crowded shelters had caused the government to -crack down. - -After snarling, the street continued to growl deep in its throat--it -had two lower levels. The growl was composed of the hum of electrics, -the subterranean rumble of heavier traffic, the yak-yak of competing -vocal advertisements, and the nervous shuffle of feet that was the same -when Rome and Babylon were young, but that was intensified here because -most of the women's feet were on platforms three to ten inches high. - -Neither the growl nor the snarl disturbed Phil. Normally he'd already -have had his ear plugs tucked in, his face fixed straight ahead, his -eyes nervously questing for hot rods, which were known to jump curbs. -But today he simply wanted to drink it all in, to see the things he'd -always been blind to, to note the anxious but apathetic expressions on -the faces of the pedestrians, to sense the invisible lines of force -that, like spider webs or marionette strings, joined them to the -space-overflowing advertisements, which ranged from the crisp, "Learn -to Break Necks!" and the cute "A Strip-Tease Doll All Your Own!" to the -"Why Not Lobotomy?" and the imagination-tantalizing "Glamorize Your -Figure with a Sprayed-on Evening Dress! Plasticfabric cures in a jiffy, -breathes. No heat, no adhesions! Special forms flare the skirt, shape -the bosom! Designed by artists right on your body!" - -Lucky seemed no more frightened of the street than Phil. He scampered -along close to the base of Skyway Towers' monumental façade, the -camouflaging green color of which may have explained why none of the -pedestrians took note of him--not that any explanation was needed as to -why those walking nerve-bags didn't see things right under their noses! - -A gleaming sales-robot veered toward Phil on its silent wheels, but -Phil deftly interposed another balloon-suited man between himself and -it. The balloon-suited man began to get a slick reducing pill sales -talk; evidently the robot had scanned his profile. Phil hurried around -the corner after Lucky, who had turned down garish Opperly Avenue. - -As if he had picked up a scent, Lucky abruptly left the wall, glided -across the sidewalk and padded across Opperly Avenue between the -passing cars. Phil followed, not without a certain heart pounding, -but with no real anxieties. Something allowed him to sense easily the -intentions of all the cars in the block--dodging them was almost fun. - -He reached the opposite curb a good five feet ahead of a playful youth -in a jalopy with a tin body like a space jeep scribbled over with such -signs as "Oh, You Venusian!" and "Girls beware--escape speed zero." -Effortlessly recovering his breath, Phil found himself facing an ornate -cave mouth flanked with old-fashioned fluorescent posters, the largest -lettering on which read: "TONIGHT! Juno Jones, the Man-Maiming Amazon -vs. Dwarf Zubek, the Bone-Crushing Misogynist." - -But he had no time to read the rest of the bill, for Lucky was dancing -up the broad corridor lined with giant stereographs of menacing, -half-naked men and women, looking in the dim light like genies freshly -materialized from smoke. - -Ordinarily Phil would have felt a certain amount of disgust mixed with -fear and uneasy fascination at entering, or even passing, a wrestling -palace specializing in male-female, but today it seemed simply a part -of life. It never occurred to him not to follow Lucky. - -Just short of some turnstiles and a robot ticket taker lost in shadows, -a side corridor spilled light. Lucky whisked into it. Phil had barely -rounded the corner after him when a long, handless, boneless gray arm -shot out of the wall and slapped itself firmly against Phil's middle. - -"Where you think you're going, Mack?" a voice rasped from the wall. "On -your way." And it gave him a quick shove toward the ticket taker. - -Phil could see Lucky mincing inquisitively down the side corridor, -which was lined with doors. He tried to go around the arm, but it -extended itself until it stretched from wall to wall. - -"Still here?" the rasping wall inquired. "Look, Mack, I don't know your -voice. If you got business with somebody, name me their name and the -word they gave you." - -"I just want to get my cat," Phil answered. Lucky had reached the end -of the corridor and was peering into the last doorway. "Here, Lucky," -he called, but the cat took no notice. - -"Means nothing to me," the wall rasped on. "You still ain't named me no -names that tripped any of my relays." - -Lucky disappeared through the doorway. Phil said, "Please let me -through a minute to get my cat," trying to sound as sincere as he -could. "I'll be right back." - -"I ain't letting nobody through," the wall asserted. "Give me a name -and word, quick, Mack." - -At that instant an appalling spasm of fear went through Phil, as if a -light had been turned out inside his mind and his heart sprayed with -liquid ice. He knew that something had happened to Lucky. He ducked -under the gray arm and darted forward, but before he had taken five -steps he felt himself grabbed. The corridor whirled as he was roughly -spun back. Looking down he saw the elastic arm wrapped around him like -a gray python, while the wall grated in his ear, "No go, Mack. Now I'll -have to hold you till the man comes." - -"Let me go. I've got to get in there, do you hear!" Phil yelled. He -struggled futilely to release his arms, yet all the while he kept his -eyes on the doorway through which Lucky had vanished. "Let me go!" - -"Hey, what goes on?" A large, tall woman with close cropped blonde -hair, a broken nose, an out-size jaw and big blue eyes had stepped out -of the nearest doorway. "Cool down, son," she boomed out, coming toward -him. "What did you want?" - -"My cat ran in here," he explained, trying to speak calmly. "It ran -in that room down there at the end." He nodded his head toward it. "I -tried to go after it and this thing grabbed me." - -"Your cat?" - -"Yes, a pet." - -She thought. He noticed for the first time, perhaps because he was -watching the far doorway so closely, that she wore maroon tights and -was stripped to the waist. Her breasts were small, her shoulders sloped -steeply and were heavily, though not cordily, muscled. - -"Okay," she said after a bit. "Let him go," she told the wall. - -"Didn't give a name or word," the wall complained. "Tried to duck -through. Got to hold him till the man comes." - -"Which'll be at least an hour, if I know Jake. Let him go, you dumb -robot," she said in a majestic bass. "This man is my friend. I am -inviting him in." - -"All right, Mrs. Jones," the wall said, sounding almost sulky. The gray -arm unwrapped from Phil and shot back into the wall. - -"Now go find your cat and then beat it," the giantess told him. - -"Thank you very much," Phil said, half turning to her, but keeping the -far doorway in the corner of his gaze. But she didn't answer, only -stared after him doubtfully, still appearing quite unconscious of her -partial nakedness. - -Phil tried not to hurry, although the corridor seemed endless. He kept -telling himself that nothing had happened to Lucky, and wished very -hard he could believe it. He didn't feel big any more, or adventurous. -He passed the woman's door, vaguely noticing heaps of untidy clothes -and a stationary rubber-armed robot for wrestling practice. He came to -the door at the end, having observed that all the others were tightly -shut. He hesitated. He couldn't hear a sound. He stepped inside. - -The room was large, low ceilinged, and lined with lockers and benches. -At the far end was a closed door, flanked by two low mechanical massage -tables, their jointed rubber-fisted arms extended crookedly upward and -making them look like two beetles on their backs. There were a few -other pieces of apparatus, none of which Phil recognized, but most of -the floor was empty. - -Almost in the center of the floor was a brown box about a foot square. -Staring at it, their backs turned to Phil, were two men. One was -rather small but quick looking, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater -and tight black trousers, and holding some sort of gun. The other -was smaller and slighter, and similarly clad in blue. He held a wire -leading to the box. - -Phil cleared his throat. The two men eyed him expressionlessly, then -turned back to the box. Phil edged forward into the room, peering into -the corners for Lucky. Then he jerked back. He had almost stepped on a -dead mouse. - -Looking more closely, he saw there were half a dozen dead mice -scattered around the floor. - -He cleared his throat again, louder, but this time the men didn't even -look around. He started forward again, stepping gingerly over the dead -mouse. - -There was a click. A tiny door opened in the top of the brown box and -a mouse catapulted out. Hitting the floor, it made off in frantic -zig-zags, skidding at each turn. Phil stared, suddenly expecting Lucky -to come darting out of a corner after it. The man in black followed the -zig-zags with his gun. There was no sound or flash from the gun, but -the mouse stopped moving. - -"Try to surprise me better next time, Cookie," the man in black told -his companion. "I saw your hand move when you punched the button." They -resumed their alert, motionless stance. - -Moving around them in a cautious circle, Phil searched for Lucky. He -soon realized there were few likely places of concealment. The lockers -reached from floor to ceiling and were all closed. - -One of the dead mice began to twitch. Cookie put down the wire with the -push-button at the end of it, picked up the mouse and dumped it in the -box through a side door. - -Phil was beginning to feel very queer. He felt there must be some -connection between Lucky and the mice, but it was a dream connection -that didn't make sense. The muscles in the calves of his legs had begun -to ache from his silent tip-toeing. - -Nerving himself, he approached the motionless pair. "Excuse me," he -said with difficulty, "but did you see a cat come in here?" - -The words got no more response than the throat clearing. "I beg your -pardon," he said, "but really I must find out," and he barely touched -the elbow of the man in black. - -The response was instantaneous, though from another quarter. Phil was -grabbed by his jacket front and jerked back by Cookie, whose infantile -features were now tensed into a hard mask. - -"What you did!" The voice was shrilly scandalized. "Interrupting the -kingman at his recreation! Shoving the kingman around! That brings -punishment, that brings pain!" - -Phil felt sick with fear. He knew if only Lucky were there, if only he -could recapture his earlier mood of golden confidence, he wouldn't be -so shamelessly terrified of this little bully who was holding him at -arm's length. - -He wet his lips. "I was only trying to find my cat," he quavered, "and -I didn't shove him." - -"You did too! I saw you! A great big rude shove! And as for cats, Swish -Jack Jones, the Lady Killer, is the top cat around here, the only cat." -The hand holding him twisted his lapels tighter around his throat. "You -can't weasel out of what's coming to you. Well, Jackie, what are you -going to do to him?" - -And now, at long last, the man in black moved. He slowly turned his -head in its ruff of black wool and fixed on Phil the sad, weary smile -of a king who knows it is his boring but inescapable fate to inflict -doom and punishment. He slowly reached out his hand until it grasped -Phil's elbow. - -"Please don't," Phil whispered, but just then a thumb dug into a -nerve between his bones and he couldn't keep back a squeal of pain. -The baby-faced man grinned with mincing approval, as if at last the -proprieties were being satisfied. - -Swish Jack Jones frowned, as if he felt the squeal hadn't been loud -enough, and lifted his other hand. "This is a stun-gun," he said in a -voice patchily varnished with intellectualism. "Ultrasonic. I might -spray your spine with it to get you ready for being worked over. It's -set for mouse power now, but I'll step it up if necessary." - -Phil's guts turned to water. "You don't need to hurt me," he said. "I -tell you I was just looking for a cat." - -The other shook his head sadly and said, "Nosey little men up to Bast -knows what shouldn't tell such great big lies." And he reached for -Phil's thigh. - -At that moment the tidal wave struck. Cookie was shoved ten feet, the -stun-gun clattered on the floor, Swish Jack Jones had taken a quick -backward spring, and the blonde giantess was planted enragedly in front -of Phil and was thundering, "You know mucking well I can stand anything -except when you start bullying people." - -She had slipped on a very dirty short kimono, beautifully embroidered -in the finest Oriental style, except that the figure on the back was -not a dragon, but a fire-breathing spaceship. - -"Don't touch me, Juno, I'm telling you," the man in black snarled in a -voice that had lost a lot of its intellectual veneer. He was massaging -a slapped wrist. - -"I licked you the first time I was matched with you," the giantess -replied. "I licked you the night I married you. And I can do it again -anytime. You _and_ Cookie here," she added as the latter made a grimace -that was intended to be threatening but merely registered spite. "Why -was you tormenting the little guy?" - -"Tormenting?" Jack's voice rose. "I wasn't tormenting him. Just taking -precautions. He came in here like a screwball, not saying anything, -dancing around on his toes, babbling about a cat. As if he was about to -go off his nut. Dangerous." - -Cookie's tight-lipped face bobbed up and down in agreement, but Juno -wasn't at all impressed. "He seemed about as dangerous to me as yeast -spread. Why didn't you let him find his cat and get out?" - -Jack's face registered astonishment. "Juno, was it you let in this -Ikeless Joe?" (It took Phil a moment to realize Ikeless meant lacking -I.Q.) "I was wondering how he got past Old Rubberarm. Do you mean to -say you fell for that story about a cat?" - -"Well, isn't there one?" Juno demanded, scanning the room. - -"How could there be, Juno?" Jack protested, the barest note of -intellectual superiority beginning to creep into his voice. "You didn't -see one, did you? No. And if there had been a cat, wouldn't it have -been after these mice like a shot? And where could it hide in here, -anyway? It couldn't have got in there," he went on as Juno's gaze -rested on the inner door. "_He's_ in there." Juno nodded. "So where -could it be, I ask you?" Jack finished. "You don't suppose Cookie and -me ... I kidnapped it, do you?" - -Juno rubbed her battered nose thoughtfully. She turned on Phil a face -that was friendly but heavy with doubt. "Let's hear some more about -that cat, son. What color was it?" - -"Green," Phil heard himself say, and even as he saw the looks of -incredulity appear on the faces around him, he couldn't keep himself -from going on: "Yes, bright green. And he liked cranberry sauce. He -just came to me an hour ago. I called him Lucky because he made me -feel so good, as if I could understand everything." - -There was a long silence. Phil felt his spirits sink past zero. Then -Juno laid on his shoulder a huge hand that made it sag. "Come on, son," -she said gently. "You better get going." - -Jack strode up with a wry eye on Juno. "Look, Mister," he said to Phil -in a solicitous voice in which the mockery was still cautious, "I had -an appointment with an analyst for tonight, but I think you need it -more than I do." And he handed Phil a torn-off bit of phonoscribe tape. -Phil accepted it humbly and put it in his pocket. Cookie tittered. Juno -whirled on him. "Look," she roared, "his being a nut doesn't excuse -laughing at him any more than bullying!" - -The inner door opened, but Phil couldn't see inside, because a tall, -fat man with a sooty jowl and thick dark glasses pretty well filled it. -Phil sensed a note of respectfulness in the other three. - -"What's the racketting about?" the fat man demanded in a voice which -startled Phil because it was Old Rubberarm's. - -"This guy--" Cookie began, but stopped at a quick look from Jack. - -The thick glasses flashed at Phil. "Oh, one of your nut admirers, -Jack," the fat man said comprehendingly. "Get him out of here." - -"Sure, Mr. Brimstine," Jack said. "Right away." - -The inner door closed. Phil let Juno steer him through the other. He -felt way down in the minuses. So much so that he almost didn't notice -the odd couple coming down the corridor toward them. The man looked -saintly, yet sprightly. He was very sun-burned and he wore orange shoes -and an orange beret. The woman looked like a youngish witch, but with -the nose and chin already seeking each other. A little red hat was -attached by twenty long hatpins to her coarse dark hair, and she had -a red skirt stiff and thick as a carpet. Both of them were wearing -black turtlenecked sweaters. Phil noted them numbly, lost in his own -distress, but was vaguely aware that they were pointedly ignoring the -giantess at his side. - -"You'll find your little tin hero back there shooting mice," she -snarled at them as they passed. The woman merely snooted her witchy -nose, but then the sun-burned man looked around with elfin eyes and a -benign smile. "Joy, Juno," he admonished lightly. "Nothing but joy." - -The giantess looked after them glumly for a moment, then went on. -"Couple of Jack's intelleckchul fans," she confided bitterly. "Poets, -religious nuts, and all that goes with it. Completely turned his head, -the stinkers." - -They reached the corner. Old Rubberarm waggled the tip of a fingerless -hand and muttered, "No loitering," but Juno silenced him with a weary, -"Shut up!" - -"Now get along home, son," she told Phil. "I don't know as I'd visit -that analyzer of Jack's. Probably some fancy guy he got put onto by the -Akeleys--those two intelleckchul jerks you just saw. But maybe some -kind of psycher would be a good idea." She patted his shoulder and -grinned, showing a scar inside her lip. "I'm sorry about what happened -back there--that lousy husband of mine. Anytime you feel like it, drop -in on me. Old Rubberarm's got your voice pattern. Just ask for Juno -Jones. Only one thing, son--no more green cats." - - - - - III - - -Through half closed lids, whose lashes blurred everything, Phil watched -the ghostly pale yellow circle of the window, which was all the -illumination he could bear now. He hadn't put on any lights when the -sun had set and the sodium mirror above the stratosphere made the only -light, and minutes ago he'd switched off the TV screen although the -girl's voice still crooned a sex song and he still wore the fat mitten -of the handie. But the pressure of her fingers, holding a hydraulically -compartmented artificial hand and transmitting over the airwaves an -electric signal to change pressures of the hydraulic compartments -of the handie, began to feel like that of a skeleton wearing rubber -gloves. Phil jerked off the handie, switched off the voice, lit a -cigarette, and was back with his problem. - -Was he really crazy, he asked himself; was Lucky just a psycho's dream -cat, or had he somehow been tricked? Once again he tormentedly totted -up the evidence. Nobody but himself had admitted to seeing Lucky. And -there were so many other indications of hallucinations: that crazy -color, the silly food, his fleeting hunch that Lucky wasn't "really" a -cat, his suspiciously godlike elation and sense of power. - -But those feelings of his were also the reason that Lucky _had_ to -exist. After what had happened today, Phil simply couldn't endure life -without Lucky, without those warm insights that had galvanized him this -afternoon and shut away all thoughts of his lost job, his loneliness, -his cowardice and frustrations. "Lucky," he whispered without knowing -he'd been going to, and the sick child sound of his voice frightened -him so that he fumbled in his pocket for the phonoscribe tape Swish -Jack Jones had given him. Puffing his cigarette hard so that it made a -hell red glow, he read the smoky words, "Dr. Anton Romadka. Top of The -Keep. Eight O'Clock." - -He visualized the thin black shaft of The Keep, a luxurious -office-hotel, and thought of how few minutes it would take him to get -there. But then he suddenly crumpled the paper in his pocket and began -to pace. Going to Dr. Romadka would mean that he didn't really believe -in Lucky. - -He thought of the sleeping pills but was afraid there weren't enough -left. He reached for a book he'd been reading, but the thought of its -stereotyped sadistic plot was unbearably boring. As a last resort he -turned on the radio again, voice and sight. - -"... ravins the antichrist." - -That phrase, together with the gaunt bucolic face, inevitably meant -that President Robert T. Barnes was telling his Fellow Americans about -Russia all over again. - -"But there are sinners on this side of the polar battlegrounds," the -great midwestern father-image continued, swaying forward and arching -his bushy eyebrows. "Sinners in our midst, creatures of the fleshpots. -They have catered too long to the vilest desires and lusts." He shook a -finger and swayed once more. "I warn them that their time is at hand." - -Phil reached for the knob (how often had Barnes made those futile, and -some said drunken, threats, when everyone knew his administration was -hand in glove with Fun Incorporated!) but he hesitated as an unfamiliar -and rather eerie note crept into the President's voice. - -"Fellow Americans," Barnes almost whispered, wobbling a little from -side to side, "strange forces are abroad, insane thoughts, spirits of -the upper air like those which troubled ancient Babylon. Our minds are -being worked upon, it is the final testing time for--" - -His momentary curiosity gone, Phil twisted the knob to silence and -darkness. Nevertheless, the President's rhetoric set the tone of his -next reverie. He did not pace now, but crouched back in the foam chair -wedged between the radio and bed. - -He must be crazy, he told himself with a quiet certainty that didn't -hurt for the moment, perhaps because he sat so very still. Everything -he'd felt this afternoon had been out of character, including his -ridiculous overvaluation of that dream cat. - -Yes, he must be crazy. - -At that moment the dim circle of the window was intersected by a -smaller and much brighter circle. He automatically stood up and stepped -forward. - -The girl in the room across the bay had switched on her light. Now -she threw down a cloak and walked around the room as if searching for -something, the horsetail of black hair flirting from side to side -as she turned her head this way and that. She was less than twenty -feet away and he could see her clearly. She was wearing a gray suit -fashionably pied with great splotches of black. Her face was compact, -nose small, mouth broad, eyes very wide set, and, as Phil now noticed -definitely for the first time, her ears were lobeless and curved up to -an almost faun-like tip. As on those rare occasions when he'd glimpsed -her before, he felt a quiver of uneasiness. - -She shrugged her shoulders, as if giving up her hunt, and walked over -to the window, looking straight at Phil. He shrank back a bit, though -he knew he was invisible. She grasped a knob on the rim and swung her -hand in a quarter-circle, the window gradually blacking out as she did -so. - -Then, just as Phil started to turn away, the window began to brighten -again until it was almost as transparent as before. He realized what -must have happened. The inner pane of polarizing glass had missed its -catch and revolved silently onward a few extra inches. He'd known it to -happen to his own. - -The girl across the way thought she was hidden. She wasn't. - -She stretched and took off her coat. Phil gnawed his lip. He didn't -quite want to watch her. But anything was welcome that would distract -him from the thought with which his last reverie had ended, and, Phil -knew very well, this window could provide most gripping, if barren, -distractions. - -She slowly parted the magnetic clasps on her blouse, then slipped out -of it with a lithe twist of her shoulders. Phil forgot his fears, -enthralled by the beauty of her dark-nippled breasts. Below them, -almost cupping them, she seemed to be wearing some sort of close -fitting, velvet black undergarment. - -She stepped out of her skirt. The undergarment ended raggedly at her -thighs. It puzzled him, perhaps because of the faint smokiness of the -window. It looked almost as if it were made of some sort of fur. - -Balancing expertly on one leg, she drew the stocking from the other, -and along with the stocking one of those grotesque ten-inch platform -shoes. - -Only--and here Phil's heart jumped--she seemed to have stripped off -much more than that. To be precise, her foot. - -Then he saw she hadn't taken off quite all her foot. At the point where -her ankle should have been, her leg curved backward a trifle, then -sharply forward again, slimming down abruptly to end in a neat little -black hoof. - -She stripped off the other stocking and shoe with the same result. Phil -could see how the foot fitted into a well in the dummy foot and the -platform, and was in that way concealed. - -She danced exuberantly around the room. He could hear the clicks of -the little hoofs. He remembered how he'd heard her practicing tap. He -could see very distinctly her slim pasterns, her dainty fetlocks tufted -with fur exactly the same texture and blackness as her "undergarments." - -She stopped dancing, took up an electric razor, and began critically to -shave the edge of her "undergarment." - -Phil started to think in words. He got as far as "First a green cat, -then--" The next moment he turned and plunged for the door. - -He wasn't very clear about anything for a while after that. For -instance, when he darted across the street two blocks away from the -Skyway Towers he was almost run down by a slowly moving black electric, -stylishly designed in the antique, museum-case style of the early -1900's. In it were sitting Cookie, the Akeleys and Swish Jack Jones -with a box on his lap. Phil didn't even recognize them at the time. - -All he was really conscious of was what his hand clutched in his -pocket--the crumpled phonoscribe tape with Dr. Romadka's name and -address. - - - - - IV - - -The indicator light sped to the top of the tall column of studs, the -elevator whooshed to a stop, the door opened and Phil stumbled out into -a tiny foyer with carpeting like a gray lawn. - -A wall--this one was female, a regular charmer--murmured, "Good -evening. You have an appointment?" - -"Uh," Phil managed, rather surprised that he could speak at all. - -"Do you have an appointment?" the wall repeated. "Please answer yes or -no." - -"Yes," Phil said. - -"May I have your name, please?" - -"Phil Gish." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered -whether he shouldn't have said Jack Jones, but after humming delicately -for a moment the wall said, "How do you do, Mr. Gish. Please come in." - -The wall slid open to a surrealist pear shape. Phil stepped through. A -sinuous arm, slim and glittering as a serpent, sprang from beside him -and indicated a nearby chair with the gracious wave of a hostess who -has studied ballet. - -"Will you please sit down?" the wall suggested. "Dr. Romadka will be a -few secs." - -Phil gulped. He had the feeling that if he strayed beyond the indicated -area of the room, the arm would do quite as efficient a job as had the -heavier one at the wrestling arena, although probably with an "Excuse -me, please," or even a "Now, Phil." - -He took the suggestion. As if, by sinking into the chair, he had -completed a circuit, the wall said, "Thank you." He stood up. The wall -said, "Yes?" with just a hint of impatience. He sat down again. "Thank -you," the wall repeated. - -The room was as dark, soft and silent as a womb. Evidently most of -Dr. Romadka's patients dreamed expensively. The inevitable desk had a -double curve like a love seat. There were no advertisements anywhere: a -sure sign of wealth. On one wall was a large, round design, apparently -copied from some classical Greek original, which disturbed Phil with -its suggestions of nymphs and satyrs. He quickly shifted his gaze to -an arch, through which he could see the beginning of a stairway. He -decided Dr. Romadka must also have a penthouse. - -Suddenly he heard angry voices, a man's and a girl's. The latter's rose -to a catsquall of hate. A door somewhere shut with a snap, and a bit -later a man came down the stairs without moving his feet. Phil deduced -an escalator. - -Dr. Romadka was tubby, bald and beaming with subtlety. He had on his -left cheek four new, deep scratches, which he ignored completely and -apparently expected Phil to. He summoned Phil to the desk with an -indicating nod. They sat down and looked at each other across the -curved and gleaming plane. - -The analyst smiled. "Well, Mr. Gish? Yes, Jack Jones told me your name, -and since Sacheverell and Mary are paying for things in any case, the -new arrangement is quite all right. Oh, Sacheverell and Mary are Mr. -and Mrs. Akeley, Jack Jones' friends. I thought you might have known. -Incidentally, you're an hour late for your appointment." - -A drop of blood fell from the deepest scratch to his white shirt and -spread. - -Phil shivered, then made himself say it. "I was spending the time going -crazy." - -The analyst nodded. "You do seem a bit wrought up." - -"A bit?" - -"Well," conceded the analyst with a shrug to excuse his own inadequate -powers of description. Then he said, "Do not be surprised at going -crazy, as you put it, Mr. Gish--may I call you Phil? It is the rule -rather than the exception these days, though your admitting it is a -bit out of the ordinary. For a full century now Americans have been -living in one of those ages of collective madness and herd delusion, -comparable only to the Dutch tulip mania, the witchcraft dread, the -dancing madness, Trotskyism, and the Crusades. Until 1950 ours might -have been called the Automobile Mania, but now the imagination can -only grope for a name--I'm writing an unpopular book on the subject, -you see. Not that this current social madness is a deep secret or -anything to be startled at. What other results could have been expected -when American society began to overvalue on the one hand security, -censorship, an imagined world-saving idealism and self-sacrifice in -war, and on the other hand insatiable hunger for possessions, fiercely -competitive aggressiveness, sadistic male belligerence, contempt for -parents and the state, and a fantastically overstimulated sexuality?" - -The analyst's voice rose stridently and his eyes popped, as if there -were a personal element in his indignation. But the next moment he was -his merry professional self. - -"Now, Phil, let's examine how this sick society has sickened you. It -may surprise you but we shan't be using any such modern techniques as -electrosleep, deep brain photography or situational therapy complete -with a bottle, a blanket and a blonde love-robot. We shall simply do -what our great-grandfathers would have done--talk. Feel perfectly at -ease. This desk is designed so we can be together, yet need not look -at each other. Care to smoke? Good! Do! Now begin at the beginning. -Tell me the story of your life." - -Phil swallowed. "Excuse me, Dr. Romadka," he said, "but I'd rather not -do that right now. I want to tell you about an experience, I mean, -hallucination, I just had that convinced me I'm crazy, and then I -want you to tell me about it. You know: interpret it or psych it or -something." - -The analyst shrugged happily. "As good a beginning as any. Go ahead." - -So Phil told him what he had seen through the quarter-darkened window. -He found himself ashamedly admitting under the analyst's expert -rein-twitching how he had long used his own window as an observation -post, and when he got to describing the hallucination itself he found -himself trembling with restimulated terror, but he did finally get it -all out. - -Dr. Romadka seemed as delighted as if he had been presented with a -rare object of art. "Beautiful!" he commented. "I have seldom heard so -magnificent a symbol for the murky sexual longings of this culture. -A satyress, or satyrette, prepared to inflict both love and savage -stampings. Mary would be enraptured with it, I'm sure, and insist -on making one of her dolls in its image." He sighed aesthetically, -then recalled himself. "But, of course, Phil, I can't expect you to -be interested just now in the artistic product of your unconscious -creativity. You want to know about causes, sources. Tell me, have you -ever seen a horse?" - -"Once in a circus," Phil admitted. - -"Greek mythology is one of your interests?" - -"Not that I know of." - -"Recall seeing that TV show _A Coltish Girl_ or the musical sexedy _The -Horsy Set_ or the ancient film _Fantasia_?" - -Phil shook his head. The analyst nodded thoughtfully. "You say the fur -was distributed over the torso like a clinging, off-the-bosom chemise? -And that the legs went straight down, like rods, to end in hoofs?" - -"Not exactly," Phil corrected and went on to describe the little heel -bumps of the fetlocks and the slim pseudo-wrists of the pasterns. - -"But otherwise she was formed exactly like a normal girl?--except for -the faun ears?" - -"No," Phil said frowningly after a moment. "Her thighs were a bit heavy -and powerful looking, as if made for galloping long distances. Her arms -were sort of long, though it didn't occur to me then. And the upper -part of her body was thrown forward a bit, if you know what I mean, and -it was balanced by quite a little rump. But not what you'd call hippy." - -"Magnificent!" the analyst crowed. "Phil, you not only have equipped -your vision with accurate horse-legs, but you have made some of the -necessary compensations in the rest of the anatomy that such a mode -of locomotion would involve in a biped." He sat there beaming a bit -vacantly, as if lost in admiration for the creative powers of the -all-resourceful unconscious. - -"Yes, but what does it indicate about my mind?" Phil asked. He would -have felt annoyed if he had not been so anxious. "What's wrong with me?" - -Dr. Romadka shook off his reverie with a smile that begged pardon -for it. "What's wrong with America?" he asked wryly. "It's much too -early for me to arrive at any conclusions, Phil, or rather to help you -arrive at your own. Of course, the visual projection created by your -unconscious has some interesting references." - -"What are they?" Phil asked. "I may not have made it clear, but I'm -worried about this. I can't get it out of my mind." - -Dr. Romadka smiled, shrugged. "Perhaps a spot of interpreting would -relieve you," he agreed. "Though you must remember it's just impromptu -analysis, may be quite wrong. Here goes. The first things that come to -mind are such elements as dread of sexual experience and the attempt -to invest it with terror, effort to feminize yourself by conceiving a -savagely-hoofed love object, an attempt to link sex with a trampling -and punishing beast, perhaps as self-punishment for your voyeurism--all -of these fitting in nicely with the classical mythology about the -nymphs and their natural love companions the goat-hoofed satyrs--also -the horse-hoofed centaurs, who were frequently, you may remember, -teachers of men." The analyst frowned. "It's barely possible you were -visually projecting the desire to be taught about love. However," he -went on, "I imagine that as usual the hidden significances are the -more important ones. May I make a spot guess about you?" - -Phil nodded. - -"Are you a white-collar worker in close competition with robots?" - -"Yes," Phil said, astonished. - -"Hardly a brilliant deduction," the analyst deprecated, but his eyes -beamed. "In that case we must suspect another mythological ingredient. -Do you know the Pandora story? There's a special point about it. She -was not an ordinary girl sent by the gods to bring mankind a box -containing all ills. No, she was a metal maiden, forged by Hephaestus -at the command of Zeus. In other words, an automaton, a robot--bringing -in this case the ills of the Second Industrial Revolution caused by the -introduction of electronic calculators and sensers." - -"But did Pandora have hoofs?" Phil said doubtfully. - -Dr. Romadka waved away the objection. "Your unconscious probably fused -in the Arabian legend of the clockwork horse. The unconscious is very -artistic about these things, Phil. If you realized just how artistic, -how fertilely creative, you wouldn't be worried." - -"But how does all this tie in with sex?" Phil asked. - -The analyst shrugged. "Must it? A visual projection, like a dream, can -mean a thousand things. I warned you this was just impromptu analysis. -We've carried it about as far as we can." - -"Look," Phil said hesitantly after a pause. "There's a lot to the -things you said, and some of them really pushed buttons in my mind. -But--I hope you won't object--there's one thing that's still bothering -me." - -"Go right ahead." - -Phil became even more diffident. Finally he said with difficulty, -"Look, doctor, is there any chance that what I saw could be real in any -way? Any chance at all?" - -The analyst chuckled mellowly. "Not one in the world," he said with -complete conviction. "What's been bothering you, Phil? Did you believe -that the Greek gods and their creatures might have been materialized in -some way?" - -"Something like that, I guess," Phil said without conviction. - -Dr. Romadka leaned toward him, resting an elbow on the curving desk. -"If you had any idea of half the things people tell me across this -desk, normal neurotic people I mean, you wouldn't be so much impressed -by your own experience. There's a woman, for instance, who keeps seeing -shimmery moon-spiders in dark corners. There's a man who is always -getting glimpses of a girl dressed in skin-tight mink that covers her -face, too. And there's another fellow who keeps waking up in the middle -of the night with the absolute conviction that he's in bed with--no, I -shouldn't tell you that one." - -"But I actually seemed to see it," Phil persisted stubbornly. "It -wasn't just a glimpse or shadows." - -Dr. Romadka smiled. "How many people have seen flying saucers, Phil? -Including astronomers and atomic scientists. How many people have -seen Russian soldiers or Russian homing missiles nosing around their -bedroom windows? And how many people thought they saw Roosevelt--and -thought they walked and talked with him--the day of the Great Panic in -Atom War Two? Besides all that, Phil, there were shadows: you said the -polarizing window wasn't at maximum transparency. Also, you've been -overdosing yourself with sleeping pills--you admit it--and they can do -funny things. As for the hoofs, well, have you ever thought how high -heels are really cruel little hoofs? Anyone who's seen ladies fight -will confirm this. And the girl's hair-do, her suit splotched like a -piebald horse, the remembered sound of the tap-dancing--don't you see -how your unconscious could weave those things and a thousand more into -an image that in your strained condition you were all too ready to -accept?" - -"I guess I do," Phil said finally, feeling considerable relief. Not for -long, though. - -"But there's one other thing," he said, sitting up suddenly. "The thing -I thought I saw this afternoon. A lot more real than the satyrette -even. I thought I was with it for an hour. Even touched it and fed it." - -"What other thing?" the analyst asked gently, with just the hint of a -tolerant laugh. - -"The green cat," Phil said. - -When the analyst didn't answer, Phil looked around. Dr. Anton Romadka -was simply staring at him. The four scratches and the dried trickles of -blood on his left cheek stood out much more sharply, as if he had grown -pale. - -"I said the green cat," Phil said. - -"The green cat?" The analyst's voice was a distant echo of itself. - -"Yes." - -"Umm," the analyst observed hollowly and sank farther down into his -chair, almost as if he were reaching for something with his toe. - -Something beeped musically. The analyst snatched up the phone. His face -instantly assumed a fierce expression. He said, with pregnant pauses -during which he scowled, "Yes ... No, I can't. I can't possibly, I tell -you.... You couldn't do that; you'd be arrested.... Very well then, but -only for five minutes. Five minutes, do you hear? I'll be waiting." - -He replaced the phone and looked around at Phil with a despair that -his baldness and big eyes turned comical. "This is most embarrassing," -he said. "A former patient insists on seeing me at once, threatens to -cause a disturbance downstairs if I won't. She would, too. We had some -fine fracases before she broke off the analysis. I have no other course -but to see her. I know how to pacify her temporarily, enough to get her -home." - -"I'd better go," Phil said, rising. - -"Wouldn't hear of it," Dr. Romadka protested. "I want to go much deeper -into your case this evening. That last thing you mentioned--it opened -vistas! No, you just wait for five minutes in the next room, ten at the -most, and I'll have her out of here." - -"I do think I'd better go, though," Phil said, "if you don't mind." - -"Quite impossible," Dr. Romadka pronounced, taking a firm hold of his -arm. "She's passionately jealous of all my other patients and would be -sure to attack you the instant you stepped out of the elevator. Did -I tell you she carries a gold squirt gun filled with sulphuric acid? -That's one of her cuter tricks. The only other way out is the service -chute, and that's hardly for human use. No," he said, guiding Phil -through a door beyond the arch but not entering himself, "you just stay -in here for five minutes or so. There's plenty to read, to glance -over and listen to--not that you'll have much time. Trust me, Phil. -Everything's under control." - -The door shut. One fleeting glance around showed shelves of books, -racks of vocal booktapes, a divan, a central table and a large mirror -set in the ceiling. Then Phil remembered he had left his cigarettes on -the desk. He punched the door button. Nothing happened. He punched it -again. - -There still hadn't been time for Dr. Romadka to have taken five steps -away from the other side. He started to hammer on the wall. - -"Dr. Romadka," he called. "Dr. Romadka!" - -The lights went out. - - - - - V - - -Phil stopped pounding on the wall and the black silence closed around -him drowningly, stranglingly, like a preview of the mental hospital -cell and electrosleep to which, he was suddenly sure, Dr. Romadka -intended to consign him on a psychiatrist's writ. In the thick darkness -he heard his heart pounding. His rapid breathing was for a moment that -of an animal. - -He wondered helplessly why the analyst, after taking his satyrette -hallucination so lightly, should have instantly typed him as a -dangerous lunatic at his mention of a green cat. Psychologists, he -supposed, knew things about the mind's secret language that were never -told to ordinary people: seemingly innocent symbols that stamped -men as cowards, rapists, murderers, traitors, crypto-communists, -non-conformists. A fragment of conversation he'd heard somewhere came -back to him: "Of course as soon as he saw _that_ in the inkblot, they -hustled him off." - -There was a sharp click. He started and looked up. A tiny line of light -appeared in the ceiling, widened, and then became an oblong spilling -radiance on the central table below, but leaving the rest of the room -dark. He realized that the mirror he'd noticed had been slid out of -the way. He couldn't see much of the room above except some microfilm -files and part of a TV reading machine of the sort that could use -micro-libraries all over America. No human figures were visible from -where he stood and he felt no desire to step forward into the revealing -light. He wondered, with a certain incredulous pride, whether he was -so dangerous a type that they intended to fish for him with nets. Just -then a foot was dangled over the oblong's edge. - -It was a charming foot, slim and clad in the most shimmeringly -expensive sort of digital stocking, which gave each toe its separate -translucent compartment. Running back from between the toes were four -black velvet thongs, which helped attach the airy black shoe and -gave it an exciting though spidery appearance. The foot was joined -to a narrow ankle and gently swelling calf which hardly needed the -stocking's glamorizing. That was all of the figure he could see at -the moment, but the moment didn't last long. The foot was followed by -a second and shortly by all the rest of the girl. She hung briefly, -facing away from him. He got a quick impression of a short black -evening frock; a black shoulder cape; long, dark hair cascading free -and white arms in black gloves that began above the elbows and ended at -the knuckles. - -His foot, shifting on the foam carpeting, made a tiny noise. Instantly -she whirled on him like a black panther, complete even to the shrill -snarl. As she did, Phil was rocked by two surprises: the first, -revealed when her short cape spun out, that her evening frock was off -the bosom, a style he had thought and read about a great deal, but -that was not followed at his social level; the second, and far more -attention getting, that the fingers of her right hand were tipped with -clawed, silver thimbles, while in her left she held ten gleaming inches -of that most disturbing anachronism, a knife. Poised like a fencer, she -waggled it rapidly under his chin. - -"Did my father set you to spy on me?" she demanded. The "set" and "spy" -were sheer hiss. - -"No," he replied chokingly, not wanting his Adam's apple to protrude. - -"Then why are you here," she demanded, advancing the knife a bit, -"lurking in the dark?" - -"Your father locked me in," he protested, leaning backward. - -"Ishtar! Is he doing that to his patients, too?" she commented. Her -accents were a bit incredulous, but she did drop the knife to an easy, -on guard position, which also caused her cape to fall around her -modestly. - -"Locked me in and turned off the lights," Phil reaffirmed. - -She slitted her long-lashed eyes thoughtfully. "I can almost believe -the first part of that," she said. "He often sends his patients in here -for observation." - -"Observation?" - -She jerked a silver-fanged thumb at the ceiling. "That mirror's -transparent from above. He likes to watch what his patients do when -they think they're alone, either singly or by couples. Olympian voyeur! -Well, I marked him tonight." And she flashed the claws, which were -faintly stained with reddish brown. - -Phil felt a little sick but took the opportunity to ask, "If that -mirror's transparent from above, why didn't you see me when he locked -me in here?" - -"He always shuts the mirror off when he's not using it," she said, -"and I was interested in opening it, not seeing through it. I only -discovered the trick of the fastenings a half-minute ago. Father -probably doesn't even know it can be opened. Although well equipped -with the nastier psychological skills, he's no mechanic." - -"Well, you seem to be skillful at things all around," said Phil. -"Fencing and that." - -She thoughtfully licked the center of her upper lip with the tip of her -tongue. "You're kind of likable in a feeble way," she said. "Why did he -lock you in here anyhow? Too interested in sex? I thought he encouraged -that in his patients and only tried to forbid it to his darling -daughter." - -As Phil searched for a suitable way to phrase a denial or confirmation, -her dark eyes grew speculative. "Say," she said, "how about you and -me?" She paused, then decisively whipped down the knife, so that it -stuck quivering in the floor. She advanced toward Phil. "Yes, you and -me." - -"Your father'll be back any minute," Phil protested agitatedly. - -"True, and I'll so enjoy seeing his face." She lifted her arms. "See -how beautiful I am. Look at them. Like two rose buds." - -She was very beautiful indeed. Nevertheless, Phil froze. She bared her -teeth and struck at his cheek with her clawed hand, but at the last -moment turned the blow to a contemptuous pat. - -"Don't worry," she said. "I know my glamor is a sort that terrifies -weaklings. Besides, the raven does not mate with the rabbit. And I -only wanted to do it to spite Father. Why did he lock you in? You seem -completely puerile." - -"I just mentioned something about a green cat," Phil said with a -certain huffiness. - -She rolled her eyes. "Tammuz! And just after encouraging the Akeleys in -their Bast worship. The man's so erratic I sometimes think he must be a -crypto-communist with his cover personalities jumbled." - -"Of course he did say something about my waiting here while he got rid -of a violent ex-patient who carries around a--" - -"That gold squirt gun story," she interrupted, "is his pet dodge for -getting rid of patients." - -"He doesn't seem to want to get rid of me." - -"No," she agreed cheerfully, jerking her knife out of the floor, "he -seems to want to keep you." - -"I think he wants to send me to a mental hospital," Phil ventured, -rather hoping to be disagreed with, but she merely nodded. - -"I don't envy you," she added, inserting the knife in a sheath in her -skirt. "Father favors old-fashioned treatments like convulsive therapy -and simulated snake pits. Well, if the assistant torturers are on their -way, I'd better be on mine." She took three quick steps, then looked -back at him coldly, thinning her lips. "Care to come along?" she asked. -"Not that I like you even faintly--I detest men; I'm seething with what -my grandmother would have called masculine protest--but I always enjoy -frustrating Father." - -Phil had an acute sense of a lady-or-the-doctor dilemma, but he lost no -time saying, "Yes." - -She nodded once and headed for the back of the room. "Will you try for -the elevator?" he ventured to ask. - -"Of course not!" she snapped at him. - -"But he said the only other way--" Phil began. - -"Sshh!" she hissed and punched a door button. - -The wall kept blank. "So it's on code," she said. "I might have -known." And she punched the button in a rapid rhythm. The wall kept on -blank. "Oh, oh, the special code, the one I'm not supposed to know." -She looked round at Phil. "You must be important," she sniffed. She -punched the button in another rhythm. This time, rather to Phil's -surprise, the wall parted obediently. He followed her into a gleaming -kitchen, complete with glassed in shelves of gamma-sterilized steaks -and vegetables, freezer, radionic oven, shadowed mushroom bed and small -microbe tank for home-cultured appetizers. Phil's eyes bugged at the -latter two luxuries, but it did occur to him to say, "What about that -mirror you left open? Mightn't your father come in upstairs and see I'm -gone?" - -"Not tonight after what I gave him. Now stop making old maidish -remarks." She was standing in front of a vertical cylinder that half -protruded from the wall, and was busy once more with her button -punching. A tiny green light flashed up a tall column of studs like a -skyrocket. "Get the hassock from the library. Quick!" - -When Phil hurried back lugging the foot-high cylinder of foam rubber, -a doorway about as big as a midget was open in the cylinder. "Put it -inside on the platform," she directed, "on top of all the straps and -stuff. They're just for packages. That's right. Now get inside and -squat on it. Reach down your hands on either side of the hassock and -take hold of the clamps. Keep a firm grip, because it drops a bit -faster than free-fall and you wouldn't want to be left behind squatting -on nothing. And squat up straight or you'll get your head rubbed off!" - -"Wait a minute," said Phil, withdrawing a foot he had gingerly inserted -in the doorway, "Do you--" - -"I have to go last, because I know how to work the button when I'm -inside. Hurry up." - -"But this is the service chute, isn't it?" he asked. - -"Did you expect Nubian slaves to carry you down a spiral ramp? Later -on you can persuade Father to buy me a copter if you want to." - -"You mean," he quavered, "that you think I'm going to fall down that -chute on a little platform without sides?" - -She jerked the knife from her skirt. "I think you're going to do that -or else you're going to let me lock you back in the library." - -Stepping back from the knife, Phil sat down suddenly on the platform, -cracking the top of his head on the doorway, and then slowly drew in -his legs and assumed the position of the Anxious Buddha. "You didn't -have to rush me," he said with some dignity. - -"I'm sending you to the first basement," she told him in clipped tones. -"I'll give you five seconds to get out. I think the door'll be open -there. If not, you'll have to come up again, and hope it's me that gets -you and not some other floor. Now don't worry," she told him as she -slid the door shut, "I've done this a dozen times myself--or at least -thought of doing it." - -In the darkness Phil's spine stiffened to condensed steel and his hands -clutching the clamps became those of a gorilla. He had time to think -that if only Lucky were with him, tucked inside his jacket.... - -The platform was jerked down from under him, dragging him along. His -stomach rapidly scrambled over his heart and nestled just below his -Adam's apple. A giant snake hissed and he was acutely conscious of -being inches from death by friction on every side. Then, just as he -figured he'd got a really firm grip on the clamps, he distinctly felt -the platform through the hassock, his heels cut into his rump, his -vertebrae cut into his intervertebral disks, and various things inside -him jarred loose. - -He was staring groggily into a dimly lit and empty room. Time was -passing, it occurred to him. He dove out onto the floor, while behind -him the platform took off with a hearty _whish_. By the time he had -dragged himself to a sitting position and taken a few breaths there -was a gust of air from the chute and a _zing_ as the platform came to -a stop. Miss Romadka sprang out nimbly and curtsied to an imaginary -audience. - -"You never did that before?" he asked her glumly. - -"Of course I have, but I knew if I said I hadn't you'd take it more -seriously." She tweaked him by the nearest ear. "Come on, you're not -out of Father's clutches yet." - -Almost to his disappointment, he found he could scramble to his feet -and follow her. He almost felt calm. "How did you push the button from -the inside, anyhow?" - -"Just taped it down, jumped in and shut the door. The platform won't -move if any of the upper-floor doors are open." - -"What's your name, by the way?" - -"Mitzie," she told him. "Mitzie Romadka." - -"Mine's Phil," he said. "Phil Gish." - -She led him into a shadowy garage, lined with ornate cars in stalls -barred like prison cells. Several of the cars had recharging cables -plugged in. He saw a ramp ahead that led upward. Mitzie coded open the -barrier in front of a small black coupe without a hint of decor. - -"Innocent looking little job, isn't it?" she remarked. "Used to belong -to an undertaker." She hopped in. When, with a sad shrug, Phil followed -her, he was hardly surprised to find she had donned a full-length black -evening-mask. "It's not my car," she explained. "I'm just hiding it for -Carstairs and the gang. It's hot." - -And with that reassuring remark she guided it out toward the ramp, its -small electric motor whining faintly. A door rose at her voice. Then -they were outside in the ghostly yellow evening of the sodium mirror. -When they had climbed almost to ground level, a big car slammed to a -stop in the street ahead, three-quarters blocking the exit. Two men -jumped out of the car and someone, of whom Phil could for the moment -see only waddling legs and chubby tummy, hurried to meet them. - -"Look, if this is another tame-chicken chase--" he heard the first of -the two men from the car begin in heavy skeptical tones. - -"Don't be absurd," the hurrier asserted crisply in a voice Phil -recognized as Dr. Romadka's. "I tell you, he mentioned the green cat." - -At that moment the analyst looked around and saw Phil gawking at him. - -"There he goes now!" - -The analyst's outraged squeal turned to the rasp of plastics as Mitzie -bullied the small black car between the ramp-wall and the newcomer. -With the twang of hooked bumpers parting, they swung out into the -street, the little electric accelerating modestly. Phil looked over his -shoulder. - -"They've got back in," he told Mitzie. "They're turning around." - -"Like I said, you're important," she murmured through her mask, still -incredulously. "Well, here goes," and she abruptly nosed the car toward -the narrow mouth of a ramp leading downward. - -"Hey, that's marked 'Exit Only,'" Phil yiped at her. - -"That's why I'm using it," she informed him curtly. - -He closed his eyes as the car tilted sharply down, but the gods of -probability seemed inclined to grant boons tonight. When the car -leveled out, Phil opened his eyes to the brighter, nearer, fog-light -sodium yellow of the under level. They were moving ahead smartly. Once -more Phil looked back. - -"They've come down after us," he said with wonder perhaps a trifle -mixed with pride. - -"Really important," Mitzie muttered, shaking her head. "Well, this -little mouse was never meant to outrace that rhino. Prepare for -acceleration, and hope the cars at the next ten intersections are -stacked right." - -Phil felt himself crunched into the foam rubber he had his chin on. -There was a red glow just behind them. The pursuing car shrank rapidly -in size. Twisting himself around with difficulty, he noted that the -sodium lights had become a molten yellow ribbon. Their car flew past -the hood of a truck entering from a side street, though their speed -made it appear to be standing still. Some blocks ahead they shot -between two cars which also seemed frozen. The red glow died. They -sailed up another "Exit Only" ramp into the spectral yellow night. -Proceeding at a speed that soon became reasonable, they turned four -successive corners. - -"That should do it," Mitzie said with professional nonchalance. Phil -nodded his slumped head. - -"Carstairs put in the rocket assist yesterday," she explained. "He -wasn't altogether sure he had it lined up right. Neat little trick, -isn't it? A great comfort when you've just knocked over a fat -sales-robot, say, and have three cop cars converging and maybe a cop -copter up above. Beats a smoke screen all hollow. You'll see." - -"I have," Phil assured her with a rather absent minded shiver. - -"That was nothing," she said scornfully. "I mean when you've really -pulled a job and they're closing in. That's the big thrill. You'll see, -I tell you. You know, Phil, I sort of like you. You're so darn scared -and innocent, yet you play along. I'm sure I can persuade Carstairs to -let you join the gang." - -Phil shivered again, but with even less of his mind on it. Neither -Mitzie Romadka's criminal pastimes nor her sudden friendliness could -hold his attention. Staring out frowningly at the jaundiced street, he -was thinking of Lucky and of the way he had felt when Lucky was with -him. - -He jerked awake. "What is this green cat, anyhow?" Mitzie was asking -with an indifference that her mask intensified. "A carved emerald or -the password in a secret society?" - -Phil shrugged. - -"Well, let's forget it then," Mitzie was saying, "and have some fun." -She speeded up again to the electric's unassisted limit and ran through -a stop light which yipped protestingly. Her eyes gleamed wickedly in -their circles of black lace. Her breathing grew quicker, her voice -lighter. "Carstairs has a bunch of sales-robots lined up. Got their -after theater routes cased to a hair. We can ram 'em and gut 'em, one, -two, ten! Jump for the curb, sisters!" - -This last exuberant remark was directed at two cloaked women on -glittering platforms, and it was accompanied by a vicious swerve of -the car toward them. They made it, just, and tumbled on their knees, -shrieking. Mitzie cooed happily. - -Like someone waking from a dream, Phil said sharply, "No! I don't want -any part of it!" He went on, "You can drop me at 3010 Opperly Avenue, -top level." - -She looked at him curiously for a change, even with surprise. "All -right," she said after a bit, "I'll do it, if only because I got such a -kick out of the look on your face when I shut the door of the chute." -She spun the car illegally in a tight U-turn. She said harshly, not -looking at Phil, "I never hot rod at old people, you know. They don't -have enough hormones to make it fun. Those two girls were real funnies." - -Phil made no comment. They sped for a while in silence. Then he became -vaguely aware that Mitzie was stealing glances at him. - -"If you should manage to cook up a little nerve and change your mind," -she said angrily, "you might possibly find us at the Tan Jet much later -tonight." - -He still made no comment. She went on softly, "Night's the only time, -you know, at least in this century. Night in the city. I love the pale -yellow streets and the bright yellow tunnels. They've taken the jungles -away from us, the high seas and the highways, even space and the air. -They've abolished half of the night. They've tried to steal danger. -But we've found it again in the city; we who've got nerve and hate the -sheep! - -"Well, here's your 3010 Opperly," she said, jerking the car to a stop. -Phil opened the door and started out. Only then did Mitzie seem to -see the bright marquee and realize that the address was that of Fun -Incorporated's wrestling center. She thrust herself across the seat as -he reached the curb and turned to shut the door. - -"So this is what you were looking for!" she yelled at him, her suddenly -passionate voice making her mask puff away from and then huff to her -mouth. "You turn me down, you sniff at my friends and my ways, you're -above violence and sex, and all the while you're planning to satisfy -yourself vicariously, watching male-female!" For an instant before -she slammed the door in his face, lightning seemed to shoot out of -the lace-shirred eyeholes of the black mask. "At least I make my own -thrills, you rotten little virgin!" - - - - - VI - - -The crowd pouring down the corridor squeezed out of Phil his wincing -recollection of Mitzie's last crack. He slithered his way along the -wall, rubbed by shoulder and hip, trodden by heel and toe, set coughing -by gray-blue clouds of tobacco, weed, and so-called Venus weed, and -regaled by such remarks as, "Aaha, he could of thrown her any time he -wanted to," and "What I don't like are those dumb women referees!" - -Phil finally wedged his way into an eddy of the crowd near a side -corridor. He unhopefully gasped, "Juno Jones." Old Rubberarm whispered -throatily, "Come right in, Mack," and narrowly arched his gray arm to -let Phil duck through at that point, meanwhile bracing his slaty length -against a general surge of the crowd and whipping back the tentacle-end -of his arm to stop a gent in brown with tennis-ball eyes who tried to -duck in after Phil. - -Phil wiped his forehead and took a deep breath. He felt a little -giddy standing just by himself. A woman came out of the door ahead. -She was dressed with an aggressive dowdiness: shapeless long frock, -button shoes, wide brimmed, flower covered hat, fur neckpiece and -gloves. She looked like somebody's scrubwoman from past times out on a -half-holiday. He didn't realize who it was until the crowd behind him -began to cheer and to chant, "Juno! Juno!" - -She waved to them, but her eyes were on Phil. - -"Gosh, I'm glad to see you," she said, grabbing his elbow. Then she -whispered, "Don't ask questions. Come with me." - -The next moment she was hurrying him down the corridor away from the -crowd. - -The chanting of the crowd became disappointed and a bit sore. A shrill -voice skirled over it: "Whatcha goin' off with the little shrimp for?" - -Juno turned around and stood solid. "Listen, you mugs," she bellowed, -and the crowd was silent while a telephoto spot glowed blindingly. "I -know I'm your heroine and it makes me happy, but even I gotta have a -love life! And don't you be insulting it!" - -As the crowd yelped with laughter and started cheering again, Juno -pushed Phil through a door. "I hope you didn't mind my saying that," -she told him. "They're my fans and I gotta humor 'em." - -Phil shook his head a bit dazedly. He had expected her to stop as soon -as they got out of sight of the crowd, but instead she was hurrying him -along a narrow hall. - -"Say, look here, Mister--" she began anxiously. - -"Phil," he told her. "Phil Gish." - -"Well, look, Phil, could I take you to dinner?" - -"Sure," Phil said. - -"Good," she said with relief. Nevertheless she kept peering about, -almost apprehensively, and didn't slacken their pace. "I know a good -steak place. Quiet and they really know how to broil rabbit." They -reached a narrow, shadowy stairway. Juno steered him toward it. He -started up, but she jerked him back. "Not that way, Phil, for gosh -sake," she warned him. "That's straight to Billig and the wasps. This -place I'm telling you about is on the bottom level." And she started -down. "We could take an elevator," she said apologetically, "but this -is better," adding gruffly, "more private." - -At the bottom of the stairs a narrow door led directly into a long -dark room with a counter along one side and a row of booths along the -other. With its browned chrome finishes it had to date back to 1960. -The customers were mostly big men, seemingly evenly divided between -truck-drivers, police, and a less definable category. There was an -elevator door next to the one they'd come out of. Juno wagged her big -hand at a couple of people and shouted to someone, "Whiskey and chops, -and make sure you burn the edges. What'll you have, Phil?" - -He realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday and mumbled something about -a yeast sandwich and a glass of soybean milk. She looked at him, but -passed on his order without a comment, then took him in tow once more. -She had to answer a few familiar greetings, but she didn't spend much -time on them and seemed relieved when she'd plunked Phil down in the -booth nearest the front door, where the rumble of trucks was loudest -and their headlights, mixed with the sodium glow, flashed on the -scratched and dusty plastic. But there were, for a wonder, no jukeboxes -or radios of any sort in the place. He also saw that the pushbuttons -on the wall were labeled for out of date synthetic foods and had taped -over them an "Out of Order" sign that must have been twenty years old -itself. - -He studied his companion across the table and realized for the first -time that she looked dead beat. His glance began to trace on her large -jaw the outlines of a recent bruise that was only partly concealed by -hastily applied makeup. She dove into her pocketbook with a shy girl's -flusteredness and started to dab at her jaw with a powder-puff, but -then gave up, put back the puff and slumped forward, her meaty elbows -on the plastic. - -"Don't ever let 'em tell you the bouts are fixed," she assured him -glumly. "Zubek bust a gut trying to get me tonight." - -"You won?" Phil inquired. - -"Oh, sure. Two falls, a spaceship spin and a free-fall--that means when -you throw 'em up and out and they don't come back." - -A tray came sliding along the bar. Juno went over and got it before -Phil realized that it was for them. From the speed with which the -order had been filled, he decided they still had radionic cooking in -the place. Juno's seared rabbit chops were as big as small steaks--it -must have been an octoploid bunny, at the least--while her whiskey -was intimidatingly huge and brown. He nibbled his yeast sandwich and -found it seemingly okay, though it always made him a bit uneasy to eat -restaurant food that didn't pop out of a wall. - -As Juno munched her chops and drank her whiskey, she told Phil snatches -of the story of her life. It turned out she was a farm girl who had -come to the city young and suffered the usual disillusionments. "How's -a girl going to get ahead these days," she asked Phil, "especially -a dumb ox like me? Not that I didn't have a swell figure, but even -then I was too big and strong. I scared the men I knew and I didn't -know then the ones who would have liked what I had. So I tried scrub -mothering for a while--you know, birthing babies for wealthy dames -who didn't want to carry them the nine months themselves--but I knew -there was no future in that. Ten years or so and I'd be sweeping up -after some sweeping robot and trying to make throwaway paper dresses -last a month. So I remembered how I could pin nine out of ten boys -back home, and I entered some amateur wrestling contests and pretty -soon they were grooming me for a pro." She shook her head dourly. -"You should have seen my figure; it really was beautiful before they -put me on hormones." She distastefully inspected her big hands, still -white gloved though now gravy stained. "Even used pituitrin on me, the -bastards." She sighed and shrugged. By now she had reduced her chops -to bones and was working on her second whiskey. "So that's the way it -was, Phil. Of course, I had to go and fall in love with a wrestler -and marry the little skunk--most of the girls in the business make -that mistake--but at least I eat rabbit, even beef, and a lot of dopes -respect me." - -Phil nodded eagerly. "You've made a place for yourself. Security." - -"Are you kidding?" she asked. "Five years and I'll be through, ten at -the outside if I get to be a character." She shook her head and leaned -forward. "Actually it's much worse than that. Male-female's almost -finished. Government's going to crack down." - -"They always say that," Phil reassured her with timid cheeriness, "and -it never happens." - -She shrugged fatalistically. "This time it will." - -"I heard the president talking about something like that tonight," Phil -said, "but he sounded drunk." - -She shrugged. - -"But Fun Incorporated is supposed to have all sorts of connections with -the government," Phil continued to object. - -She smiled oddly. "You're right. The best connections any syndicate -ever had. Just the same, they're finished. Moe's been worried for -weeks, worried bad. I can tell." - -"Moe?" - -"Moe Brimstine. You saw him for a minute this afternoon." - -"Oh, yes," Phil said, getting a vivid memory flash of the door-filling, -dark jowled hulk, and then went on with a little laugh, "You know, it -startled me when his voice was the same as Old Rubberarm's. He seemed -too important a man to be a door-tender." - -"I'll say he is!" she exclaimed, the boom returning to her voice for a -moment. "You didn't actually think, Phil, did you, that he spent his -time peeking through a one-way peephole and working that spring-rubber -dingus? And would I be calling him a dumb robot? He just used his own -voice to record Old Rubberarm's questions and answers. He gets a kick -out of things like that." She lifted her heavy eyebrows. "Don't you -know who Moe Brimstine is?" - -Phil shook his head. - -"Where you been all your life? 'Scuse me, Phil, but Moe Brimstine -is ... why, he's on top of the syndicate, right next to Mr. Billig -himself!" - -When Phil didn't recognize the second name either, she quit trying. -"Well, anyway, Phil," she said in her friendly, quiet voice, "there's -Moe Brimstine, practically the boss of Fun Incorporated, which runs -wrestling and amusement centers, all sales-robots, jukebox burlesque, -and a lot of other things they don't talk so much about. And he's -worried, real worried. Now I know Moe. He don't worry about nothing -but the syndicate. So things must be real bad." She paused, then added -cryptically, but with a sort of personal gloominess, "Lots of things -are real bad." - -Phil nodded. There was a silence. - -"Say, Phil," she finally said huskily, watching her big, gravy stained -finger rub her near-empty glass. "That really was a--whadya call -it?--delusion, wasn't it, this afternoon when you was talking about a -green cat?" - -"I thought so then," Phil said softly. "Now I'm not sure." - -She let out a big breath and looked up at him. "You know," she said -with sudden warmth, "neither am I. Say Phil, how valuable is that cat, -anyway, if there is a cat. Could it be worth $10,000?" - -Phil felt his eyes bug at the same instant he was thinking that Lucky's -worth could never be measured in money. "$10,000?" he murmured. "I -haven't the faintest idea. What made you think of that figure?" - -"Well," Juno said slowly, "after the Akeleys--muck 'em!--had left this -afternoon, Jack came in to me and started talking again about how dumb -I was about you. Only this time it wasn't because I had let you in, -but because I'd let you go. He says to me, 'You're dumb, Juno, you're -deductively dopey. You don't recognize opportunity. Now I'm in a -position to make $10,000 out of that little squirt, only I'm not going -to do it, at least not right away,' he says, 'because there are higher -things, Juno, there are higher things.'" And she rolled her eyes as if -she were in the ring and approaching her spouse in his character of -Swish Jack Jones, the Lady Killer. - -"Well, anyway," she went on after a moment in a less outraged voice, -"I didn't wonder too much about that at the time, 'cause he's always -trying to needle me that way since he met Sashy (Jack hates me to call -him that) Akeley. But then, just after I get out of the ring tonight, -Moe Brimstine starts pumping me about a green cat. Seems he'd been -playing through Old Rubberarm's recordings of his conversations for -the afternoon, and I'd talked about a green cat when I was talking -to you. He pretended it was what you call idle curiosity, but that's -something Moe Brimstine's got nothing of. Course I told him you were -just a harmless nut with cats in your bonnet, but he didn't seem -satisfied." She looked at Phil puzzledly. "You did think you were a nut -this afternoon, didn't you? You didn't believe in any green cat then--I -mean, after we'd argued you out of it?" - -Phil had to nod. - -"But now you've changed your mind?" - -"Yes, I have. You see, I finally took your husband's advice and went to -see the analyst." - -"That lousy psycher the Akeleys put him onto!" she snorted. - -Phil sketched the essentials of his episode with Dr. Romadka. When he -had finished, Juno burst out, "I get it all right. If he locks you up -and calls in some hoods and they demagnetize the law tape chasing you, -then that green cat's no weed dream, brother!" - -"They didn't look like hoodlums," Phil objected doubtfully. "Besides, -Miss Romadka didn't seem to think the green cat was important." - -"That sexy little she-punk!" Juno dismissed Mitzie contemptuously. - -Phil was startled--he hadn't realized he'd told Juno so much about -Mitzie. - -"Besides," Juno went on conclusively, "Moe's interested in the green -cat, or he wouldn't pump me about it, and anything Moe's interested in -has gotta be real. Oh, the poor little mutt." - -"Who, Moe?" Phil asked confusedly. - -"Course not. I mean Jack, specially after Moe catches up with him and -finds he had that green cat and then didn't deliver." Her brow furrowed -excitedly. "Look, Phil, this is the way I figger it: Moe tells Jack -and some of the other punks, 'Boys, I'm paying $10,000 to anybody who -brings me a green cat.' $10,000 is Moe's favorite figger dealing with -smart jerks like Jack." - -"But why would Moe Brimstine want a green cat?" Phil objected. "Did you -ask him tonight when he was pumping you?" - -"Brother, you don't ask Moe Brimstine anything," Juno assured him. - -"But you do think now that your husband and Cookie stole the green cat -while Old Rubberarm was keeping me out?" - -Juno's look implied he stated the obvious far too often. - -"Has Mr. Brimstine been asking your husband questions?" Phil asked. - -"Jack wasn't billed for tonight," Juno explained. "He went off -somewhere." - -"To the Akeleys'?" Phil asked, a blurred memory nudging at his mind. - -"This isn't the night," Juno said. Her voice became for a moment -bitterly mincing. "They only receive wunct a week! Most likely Jack's -gone off with Cookie somewhere." - -"But if your guess is right about Mr. Brimstine offering $10,000 for a -green cat, and Jack stole the cat, then why hasn't he taken it to him?" - -Juno rolled her head like an angry bull. "Oh, it'd be something those -Akeleys put him up to; something they flattered him into. Maybe they -even got him to give them the cat. They can really twist him." - -Phil felt all at sea again. "But what would the Akeleys want with the -cat?" - -"What do screwballs like that want with anything?" Juno countered. -"What do they want with Jack?" She snuffed and looked at Phil. "Get -one thing straight," she said gruffly, "I love Jack, the little rat. -I've taken a lot from him, but I haven't minded too much. Oh, it hurt -when I found out he thought more of Cookie and those other punks than -he did for me, but I didn't let it show through my skin. After all, -if a man knows you can lick him, I suppose it's bound to affect him. -But when those Akeleys discovered him and began to play up to him and -change him, that was too much for me. They're intelleckchuls, you see, -and they flattered Jack and filled him up with a lot of guff about -how he had a hidden artistic talent and how he was Zeus or some name -like that battling the female principle and so on. Well, he falls -for it, see?--goes into a complete free-fall. Starts to buy reading -tapes, printed books even! Next thing he's insulting me--using a lot -of words I never hardly heard of. Keeps talking about how great Mary -is, with her art and her magic figures or whatever they are, and how -wonderful Sashy is, with his great ideas about understanding and love -and a lot of other junk. Tells me to my face that I'm a dumb bell, a -stupe semantically!" And having done well with that last word, Juno -slugged down the rest of her drink. "Look, Phil," she went on, "I could -fight Cookie and the others, because they're on my level, but I can't -fight intelleckchuls. They're lifting Jack away from me and I can't -do nothing about it. And now they've gone and got him into some real -trouble, I bet, with this green cat business. Because Moe Brimstine -isn't impressed with intelleckchuls or anything." She carefully took -the glass out of her hand and made claws. "If I had the little rat -here," she said, "I'd strangle some sense into him. But until Moe -Brimstine talked to me, I didn't really suspicion anything was wrong, -and now I can't do nothing." - -Phil's blurred memory suddenly came clear. He told Juno about how, -racing to Dr. Romadka's, he had seen Jack, Cookie, Sacheverell, and -Mary driving somewhere in the ancient electric. - -Juno slammed the table with both fists. People looked around. "That -black hearse-box!" She roared. "I should have known it. Tonight's so -important they're receiving special." She jumped up and grabbed Phil -by the wrist, fumbled for her glass, got Phil's instead, recognized it -just before draining the last of the soybean milk, set it down with -a shudder and yanked Phil out of the booth. "Come on," she told him. -"We're going to the Akeleys! To the temple!" - -Opening the doorway leading to the sub-street, Juno had to pause. Phil -got a chance to look back the long length of the bar. As he did, the -elevator door at the far end opened. A fat form filled it. Dark glasses -were twin patches of smut. - -At that moment, Phil got an unannounced demonstration of Juno Jones' -strength. He was lifted off his feet and lightly swung some ten feet -through the doorway into the sub-street roaring and glaring with trucks. - -"That was Moe Brimstine," Phil gasped. - -"I know," Juno told him as she yanked him toward the escalator leading -to higher levels and cab phones. "He didn't see us." - -Phil wasn't so sure. - - - - - VII - - -The cab had just hummed past Monstro Multi-Products' blindingly bright -basement show windows, behind which a file of dress-display robots -marched in an endless figure eight with considerable realism and oodles -of suede-rubber glamor, when Juno hunched forward and growled to the -driver to stop. She had been silent during most of the ride, as if the -whiskey had gone sour in her, and now when Phil made a move to pay -she impatiently motioned him aside. He hopped out willingly enough, -suddenly eager to see what the Akeley place looked like, as if his -hopes and fears had started rotating again when the wheels of the cab -stopped. - -Juno's reference to "the temple" had half led him to expect Greek -columns or an Egyptian portal. Instead he was facing an oblong of -darkness, framed by the sidewalk, show windows some distance to either -side, and the underpinnings of the two upper streets. He crossed the -sidewalk and hesitated, as if he stood on the edge of nothingness. It -was really very black, even for the bottom level. The sodium moon had -set. - -Then, as the after effects of the show windows' glare lessened, a house -took shape before him--an old, three story house, looking incredibly as -if it were built of wood, with roofs slanting oddly and lights gleaming -faintly through shuttered bay windows and fanciful dusty fanlights. -Something gritted under his foot and he realized that between him and -the house was a yard of real dirt, if not grass and weeds. This must -have been the ground level of the city some hundred years ago. Now -it was the windows of the third story which peered across the gap at -the top-level street far above Phil's head. The gap was at one point -spanned by a beam. Apparently the house was so ancient and ricketty -that it needed props. - -But then a new illusion presented itself. Phil knew that the house -was in the heart of the city, hemmed in by gigantic buildings on -every side. There should have been tiers of lighted windows and, far -overhead, a square of night sky. Instead there was only darkness, as if -the pre-atomic house existed in a private night. - -Then headlights of a turning car in the street two levels above swept -across the upper third of the house, and he saw that all around the -house were surfaces painted a dull, non-reflecting black. The flat -black "ceiling" could hardly be a foot above the top of the house's -highest spire. - -"Some legal business," Juno explained, coming up beside him. "Jack -wunct told me sumpin about it. Seems the original owners couldn't be -rooted out, but the city seized the air-rights and built over them. -Creepy place, looks as if it were about to rot apart--just right for -those Akeleys." Then, more loudly, "Well, I said I was going to bust -in on them, and I am. C'mon." - -Phil followed her across the yard to the ricketty steps leading to the -porch. His hand groping for the rail touched peeling ancient paint. -Halfway up a cat darted past him. For a moment he was swallowing his -heart, then as the cat paused at the top he saw that it was splotched -with some sort of dark and light colors--hardly Lucky. It loped around -a corner of the porch. Following it, Phil and Juno found themselves -facing a six-paneled door lit by a dingy globe, which Phil guessed must -be an ancient tungsten-filament lamp. There was no sign of the cat, or -indication of how it could have vanished, until Phil noticed a tiny and -possibly swinging door cut in the bottom of the big one. - -Ignoring a cat-headed knocker, green with verdigris, Juno pounded on -the door in a way that made Phil hunch his shoulders and duck his -head, keeping an apprehensive eye on the ceiling. But the house didn't -collapse. - -After a time a peephole opened above the knocker and a watery gray eye -surveyed Juno. - -"I want to see that no-good husband of mine," she shouted, but it -didn't seem her usual self-confident roar. - -"Now Juno, you're all upset," came the response in a voice Phil -recognized as that of Sacheverell Akeley. "Your aura's all muddy; I can -hardly see you through it." - -"Listen here," Juno bellowed, "you let me in or I'll bust your lousy -house down." - -Phil thought that, even granting some lack of certainty in Juno, this -was not a threat to be taken lightly, but it didn't faze Sacheverell. -"No, Juno," he said firmly. "I can't let you in when your vibrations -are like that, and when hate hormones are streaming off you. Later -perhaps--then we may even be able to help you achieve inward -tranquility--but not now." - -"But look," Juno complained in surprisingly docile tones, "I got a -friend with me that's got business with you." She stepped aside. - -"What business?" Sacheverell asked skeptically. - -Phil looked straight at the oysterish eye and said, "The green cat." - -The door swung back and Sacheverell, now no longer in orange beret and -pants, but a robe of bronze embroidered green, waved Phil in with an -arm that swished emerald silk. His sunburn now seemed the exotically -dark complexion of an Asian mystic. "All doors must open to him who -speaks that name," he said simply. "Do you vouch for your companion's -peacefulness?" - -"Ah, I wouldn't touch anybody or anything here," Juno growled surlily, -shouldering in after Phil. "I feel smutched enough already." - -"From filth the roses spring, Juno," Sacheverell reminded her gently, -"and good blooms from evil. Be happy that you are to share in the great -transformation." - -Phil found himself standing on the threshold of a large living room -twisting with streams of gray incense and cluttered with Victorian -furniture and a bric-a-brac of ornaments and objects suggesting every -religion in the world. The lights here, too, were tungstens, and so -few as to make many shadows. At the far end of the room was a large -doorway, heavily curtained with black velvet. Through the resinous odor -of incense came the dull reek of stale food, clothes and people; also a -sour animal smell. - -And then Phil saw that the place was simply alive with cats: black, -white, topaz, silver, taupe; striped, mottled, banded, pied; short -haired, Angora, Persian, Siamese and Siamese mutant. They dripped from -chair tops and shelves; they peered brightly from under little tables -and dully from suffocating-looking crevices between cushions; they -pattered about or posed sublimely still. One stretched full length on -the woven Koran in the center of a Moslem prayer rug; another lay on a -tarnished silver pentacle inlaid in a dark, low table. One was battling -a phylactery hanging from the wall, making the little leather box swing -and jump; another was nosing a small steatopygous, multi-mammiferous -figurine; yet another was lazily entangling itself in a rosary; -two were lapping dirty looking milk from a silver chalice set with -amethysts. - -And then for a second time Phil was gulping his heart, for in the -center of a mantlepiece over a real fireplace, and midway between a -gilded icon and a tin Mexican devil-mask, there posed most sublimely -still of all, with forelegs straight as spears ... the green cat. - -As Phil walked hypnotically forward, he heard Sacheverell say gently, -"No, that is not his true self, but his simulacrum, his ancient -Egyptian harbinger, a figure of Bast, the Lady of Life and Love." - -And as Phil came closer, he saw it truly was the bronze statue of a -cat, encrusted with verdigris almost exactly the hue of Lucky's coat. -Coming up beside him, Sacheverell explained, "As soon as _he_ came, -I routed out all our relics of Bast. Most of them are in there," he -indicated the black velvet curtains, "around the altar. But a few are -here." And he pointed out, beside the bronze statue, a small mummy case -and inside it the linen-banded mummy of a cat, looking like a little -sack with a blob at the top. As Sacheverell was explaining the tiny -Canopic jar of preserved cat entrails beside it, a six-toed Siamese -wandered up and sniffed the mummy thoughtfully. - -Finally Phil found his voice. "Then you actually do have Lucky?" - -Sacheverell's high curved eyebrows curved still higher. "Lucky?" - -"The green cat," Phil added. - -Sacheverell's face grew serenely grave. "No one has the green cat," he -reproved Phil. "It would not be permitted. He has us. We are his humble -worshippers, his primal hierophants." - -"But I want to see him," Phil said. - -"That will be permitted," Sacheverell assured Phil, "when he wakes and -the world changes. Meanwhile, compose yourself, er ... Phil Gish, you -say? Phil ... philo ... love ... an auspicious name." - -"Why the mucking hell is this green cat so important, anyhow? What is -it?" - -The two men turned. Juno was still standing on the threshold. She was -swayed forward a little, hugging her elbows, yet had her shoulders -squared and was glaring at them surlily, like a rebellious schoolgirl. - -"The green cat is love," Sacheverell told her softly. "The love that -blossoms even from hate." - -There was another interruption. This one took the form of a coy, -girlish snicker. Phil turned to the side of the room he had not yet -inspected closely, the one facing the fireplace. In it was a deep, -wide bay window closely shuttered with gray jalousies, as were all the -other windows in the room except for one fronting on darkness beside -the fireplace. In the bay was a semicircular couch on which Mary Akeley -sprawled adolescently, still in black sweater and stiff, red skirt. - -"You know," she said, "I just can't get used to the idea of loving -everything. Sacheverell says I've got to be nice to my little people -and stop sticking hatpins in them and things, but it's hard." - -For a morbid moment Phil thought she was referring to the cats. Then -he saw that there were a series of narrow shelves behind her, starting -at the top of the couch and going halfway up the bay and that these -shelves were crowded with dolls. Moving closer, he saw they were not -ordinary dolls, but extremely realistic human figures, most of them -about six inches high. He had never seen dolls so perfectly formed -or realistically dressed. There must have been two or three hundred. -They stood behind Mary like the cross-section of a crowded three-level -street in some tiny living world. In front of the couch was a low table -crowded with blocks of wax, molds, micro-tools and magnifiers, several -partially completed figurines and piled squares of fabrics so delicate -they must have been woven specially. - -"You like my little people?" he heard Mary ask him. "Most everyone -does. I got started out making strip-tease dolls, but these that are -all my own are so much more fun. Sacheverell, I think they like having -pins stuck through them. I think that's the way they want to be loved." - -"Perhaps, my dear," Phil heard Sacheverell say with an affectionate -chuckle, "but we'll have to wait to see how _he_ feels about it." - -And then Phil saw that the dolls represented actual individual people, -were apparently perfect statuettes of them--so perfect that for a -moment he found himself wondering which was the real world: the big one -or this tiny one of Mary's. He recognized President Barnes, the USSR's -Vanadin, square-jawed John Emmet of the Federal Bureau of Loyalty, -several TV and handie stars, Sacheverell, about eight versions of Mary -herself, Jack Jones in black tights, Juno in maroon ones, Dr. Romadka -and--he caught his breath--Mitzie Romadka in an evening frock very -much like the one he'd seen her wearing. - -"Recognizing friends?" Mary asked softly, her young face which was so -predominantly nose and chin poking up inquisitively toward his. - -Footsteps clumped. Phil realized that Juno had finally come into the -room and was standing behind him looking at the dolls. Mary looked past -him with an innocent smile. "They're awfully cute, aren't they?" she -remarked. - -Juno said, "Ugh!" - -"Try to be joyful," Sacheverell kindly admonished with a little wag of -his finger. "Try hard. Soon it will be ever so much easier. I mean, -when _he_ wakes. I must go now and see if there has been any change. -Amuse yourselves." And having lightly set them that stupendous task, -he hurried from the room, his green robes whistling against the black -velvet curtains. - -"Sacheverell's been as efficient as can be ever since _he_ came," Mary -observed. "A great little manager. I've never seen him so peppy before -about anything. He's gone in for other things, you know," she prattled -on. "Semantic Christianity, neo-Mithraism, Bhagavad-Gita, Gospel -according to St. Isherwood, Bradburian Folkism, Cretan Triple-Goddess, -devil worship and Satanism--those are the two that _I_ like--and I -don't know what all else. Every time he finds himself a new one, -he gets very enthusiastic, but not like this. I've never seen him -so serious. Ever since Jack handed him the green cat, all cute and -curled-up and sleeping--" - -"It wasn't sleeping," Phil cut in almost sharply. "It had been knocked -out by a stun-gun." - -"Don't be ridiculous," Mary went on. "Jack just found him sleeping. -Well, as soon as Sacheverell touched him, Sacheverell told us that the -world was going to change and there was going to be a new era of love -and understanding, and ever since then he's been as busy as a little -bee. Soon as we got home, he whirled around and got out all the Bast -things. I told Sacheverell that because Bast was a lady goddess, maybe -we shouldn't call him _he_. But Sacheverell told me no, that was the -way it was and the way it had to be. And I guess maybe he's right, -because when Sacheverell carried him through here sleeping, all the -little cats went for him in a big way, and the little girl cats went -for him even more than the little boy cats. And anyway, I always trust -Sacheverell's notions because he's so good at esping and telepathing -that he makes half our living by it." - -At that moment there was a strangled grunt and Phil heard the clumping -begin again behind him. Mary smiled slyly and followed Juno with her -eyes, but kept on babbling. - -"And you know," she said, "I guess there is something to what -Sacheverell says about an era of love and understanding, because these -little cats used to fight all the time, but ever since _he's_ been in -the house they've been as peaceful as anything--a regular little cat -UN without Russia and the satellites. Even I feel sweeter, which is -a real test, though it's going to break my heart not to be able to -hate people." She sighed. "Still, if everybody's going to have to love -people, I'll just have to face it, and I better start practicing right -now." - -Phil, who had been leaning toward her, jerked up at that. Her face was -just a bit too like a young crone, despite her inviting lips and creamy -skin, but she merely reached behind her and took down the doll of Juno. -"Even love _her_," she said. - -The footsteps changed direction and came stamping up. Juno's face was -brick red from rage or outraged modesty. - -"You put me down!" she demanded. "I know what you are, you're a witch. -There was one on the next farm back in Pennsylvania. Only witches make -wax dolls of people and stick pins in them." - -For answer Mary gave the figurine an affectionate stroke. "No, Juno, -I'm going to have to love you and you're going to have to get used to -it." She looked up sweetly at Juno, who writhed at every touch Mary -gave the figurine. "Incidentally, I really am a witch and if I had any -choice, I would much rather stick needles through you." - -"Put me down!" Juno bellowed, raising her arms with all the muscles -standing out tautly underneath the long, tight sleeves of her dress, as -if she had a big rock she was going to drop on Mary. - -Mary complied without haste and took down another of the figurines. Her -voice was soft as a serpent gliding. "Would you rather I practiced -loving on Jack? That's what you make me do." - -"Don't you touch him!" Juno's face was almost purple. "Bad enough your -going all gooey over him in the flesh, but this is worse. Stop touching -him that way! Aaaaah!" - -Phil ducked back as, with the last screaming bellow, Juno kicked the -work table to one side so that its contents scattered and all the cats -went scampering under tables and chairs. "I'm going to smash every last -one of those dolls," Juno announced, advancing. - -Instantly Mary rose to her knees on the couch, her back to her little -people, her arms outstretched protectingly to either side. - -"Straight through the eyes," she hissed, her face a fury's mask, -"that's where _your_ needles are going. Get thee before me, Satan!" - -Phil never found out whether Juno was, as she seemed, a bit cowed by -the diabolical venom in Mary's voice, for just then there was a frantic -padding of feet on the stairs and Jack Jones and Cookie burst into the -room from the hall. - -"Juno!" Jack yelled. "I told you I'd kill you if you ever came here!" - -In the ensuing moment of silence Cookie could be heard to confirm -primly, "He will, too." - -Juno turned on Jack, assuming the stance of a bear. "Listen, you -ten-timing little stinker, you're going straight home with me." She -hitched up her skirt and began to roll up, or rather rip up, the long -sleeves of her frock. Her furpiece had already fallen off and her hat -hung by a cropped hair. - -Meanwhile Jack was surveying the scene and getting a real idea of how -much damage had been done. - -"Juno," he said aghast, but advancing, "you've been wrecking the place, -you've been wrecking the little people, you even brought the Ikeless -Joe!" And in passing he gave Phil a shove that sent him up against the -wall, his teeth rattling. "Don't you see what you've done, Juno?" Jack -continued with poignantly aggrieved indignation, as if he must convince -Juno of the enormity of her actions before liquidating her. "You've -done the one thing they won't ever forgive, the one thing that'll turn -'em against even me." He was practically tearful. "Don't you realize -they're the only two people in the world that mean anything to me? -Don't you realize that outside of Mary and Sacheverell, I don't care a -fig for anybody?" - -Surprisingly to Phil, the retort to this came not from Juno, who was -lifting her now bare arms menacingly, but from Cookie. - -"Oh, so you don't care anything about me, either," he accused shrilly. -"I've suspected it for a long time, and now you say it yourself." - -"Shut up, you're just a dumb stooge," Jack told him without looking -around. - -"Oh, so I'm just a dumb stooge, am I? Well let me tell you, Jackie, -Juno's right about one thing and I wish I'd admitted I agreed with her -long ago. These Akeleys have turned your head. They've dazzled you." - -At that moment Sacheverell came popping back into the room, his -brilliant silk robes fairly hissing against the black velvet. "Stop, -at once!" he commanded, raising his arm. "You will disturb _his_ -awakening. Rise above hate. Do you realize I can't see anything of you -but ink blobs, your auras are so black? Even _he_ will be unable to -reach you." - -"Shut up that silly talk about _he_," Cookie snarled. "I don't want -to hear the word again or anything more about your stupid cults that -I had to pretend to be interested in. You've done Jackie quite enough -damage as it is. Do you know we could have got _ten thousand dollars_ -for that cat you're using for your idiotic mumbo-jumbo? Jack had just -stun-gunned it and was all ready to hand it over to Moe Brimstine and -collect _ten thousand dollars_, when you have to prance in with that -_ugly_ witch of a wife of yours and make like a wizard and flatter -Jackie into thinking he was starting a new religion or something and -soft talk him into giving you the cat. I hate you. I want to hurt you." -And he started toward Sacheverell, walking on his toes and puffing out -his sweatered chest like a bright blue fighting cock. - -Once again to Phil's surprise, Sacheverell's horrified and reproachful -gaze was turned not on Cookie, but Jack. - -"Jack," he gasped, "do you mean to tell me you shot _him_ with a -stun-gun, that you even dreamed of selling _him_ for money? Judas!" - -"Now see what you've done," Jack moaned, not at Cookie, but at Juno. -"You've spoiled everything." - -"I'll spoil you, you rancid little intelleckchul-lover," she roared and -ran at him blindly like a novice. Jack's face set itself in a shrewd -grimace and he stepped lightly to one side and slipped out a hand for -a hold. But just then Juno's professional training seemed to come back -to her and she checked herself, smoothly grabbed the wrist of the hand -snaking toward her, bent, spun, and sent Jack sailing over her hip in a -flying mare that landed him on the silver pentacled table. It toppled -with a crash and various religious objects fell from the wall. - -Meanwhile, Mary Akeley had picked up a small vise that had broken from -her upset work table, and hurled it with great accuracy at Cookie's -head, but then Cookie suddenly hurled himself at Sacheverell's throat -and the vise passed through the space where Cookie's head had been. - -While all this was going on, Phil, completely to his surprise, walked -coolly over to the shelves of figurines, carefully picked up that of -Mitzie, and put it in his jacket pocket. - -When he turned around, Jack had selected a black glass Aztec -sacrificial knife from the fallen religious objects and writhed to his -knees like a cobra. Juno picked up a rather small, but very solid, -brass Buddha. - -Nearer the velvet curtains, Cookie had Sacheverell on his back and was -choking him, while Sacheverell, though his shoulder was pinned, was -industriously trying to beat Cookie on the head with the silver chalice -from which the cats had been drinking. - -Mary had grabbed up some hatpins and darted forward. She hesitated whom -to attack, then started for Cookie--not so much, Phil fancied, to help -her husband but because Cookie's "ugly" had rankled. - -Never before, not even in the trenches and foxholes, had Phil Gish seen -real murder in a human face. - -Now he saw it in five. - -And then, very suddenly, it wasn't there at all. - -The room grew very still. The black glass knife and the chalice -clattered from Jack's and Sacheverell's hands. Mary's hatpins struck -the floor with a faint, vibrant rattle. Juno's Buddha thudded on the -Moslem prayer rug. Cookie's hands unlocked themselves and writhed back, -as if ashamed even before they had a message from the brain. - -Expressions unlocked too. Hate furrows softened and vanished. Lips that -had writhed back from teeth moistly returned. Eyes filled with painful -understanding. - -Jack said, in a soft, amazed voice, "Juno, you really do love me. You -don't just want to own me and shame me as a man." - -Juno said, "You really do care what I think, don't you, Jack? Gosh!" - -Cookie said, "I didn't realize it, Sacheverell: you partly mean what -you say. It isn't all faking." - -Mary said, "And you actually want Jack to be happy, Cookie. It isn't -simply vanity and envy." - -Sacheverell said, "My God, it's happening. And I mostly thought it was -a stunt I was stage managing." - -As for Phil, his feelings were in that golden sea they'd swum in this -afternoon. He felt as if his heart were joined by sensitive strands to -those of the five persons around him. It even seemed to him that there -were delicate, gossamer wires connecting him to the figurines so that -he understood Romadka, Barnes, Vanadin, maybe even himself. - -Then, simultaneously with the others, he turned toward the velvet -curtains. A few inches above the floor, Lucky's little green head had -poked through. It hung there like a large green jewel, flooding them in -turn with its mellow rays. Then Lucky pushed all the way through the -curtains. - -Swiftly, from under tables and chairs, out from the fireplace, and from -behind tiers of books, all the other cats appeared and gathered around -Lucky in a circle. - -"It has begun," Sacheverell whispered happily. "The world is changing." - -"Saint Francis of Assisi," Mary murmured weakly, "incarnate in a cat." - -Then Lucky walked slowly across the room. The other cats made way for -him and then followed him, still keeping a respectful distance. He -passed Mary and Cookie, passed Sacheverell, who looked just a shade -disappointed, and sprang lightly into Phil's arms. - -Phil had never held anything that weighed so little, or felt fur so -electric. His chest seemed to him to be rather too small for his heart. - -Sacheverell called softly yet ringingly, "You are the chosen one." Phil -looked at him and then, with an unreasoning and almost mystical gust of -apprehension, at the black window behind him. - -The glass in the window was vibrating, circular gray waves were -spreading in it from a central spot. - -At the same instant he felt his left hand, the one cradling Lucky, go -dead. Lucky leaped convulsively in the air and fell perhaps six feet -away from him and was still. - -The glass in the window shattered all at once and tinkled to the floor, -leaving only a few jagged shards around the frame. - -Lucky's cat cortege broke up and its members raced into the hall and up -the stairs. - -Moe Brimstine stepped in through the window, with a suppleness one -would never have expected of his huge body. He stood just inside -it, gripping a stun-gun in his big mitt. His jowl seemed to Phil to -be smeared with the darkness behind him, and his glasses elliptical -patches of it. - -"There's a couple of boys with orthos out there," Moe said, stepping to -one side of the window. "I know you don't want to get yourselves sliced -up." - -Apparently nobody did, though Phil at least hadn't any idea of what -orthos might be. - -"Listen carefully, everybody," Moe said. "So long as you forget -about all this, so long as you act and think like it never happened, -beginning with finding the cat this afternoon, then I'm going to forget -all about you. That goes for you, Jack, though you're a dumber bunny -than I ever thought and did yourself out of an easy ten--and for you, -Juno, and Cookie, too. But if you don't forget, if I get just the -littlest hint that you've remembered--well, we won't talk about that." -He slowly scanned their faces. "Okay, then," he said, and shifting the -gun to his left hand, stepped forward and scooped up Lucky. - -"He ... he ..." Sacheverell mumbled despairingly. Moe looked at him and -Sacheverell was quiet. - -"How long did this pussy sleep after you stun-gunned it?" Moe asked -Jack. - -Jack wet his lips. "Almost until now," he said. "Until maybe five -minutes ago." Moe backed away toward the window. - -Phil felt something moving from inside, something that tortured him -into movement, for he certainly didn't want to stir a muscle. - -He advanced toward Moe, a shaky step, then a couple, all the while -feeling the most exquisite pains racking his torso as it was sliced by -imagined orthos. - -"Put that cat down," he croaked. - -Moe looked at him with utter boredom. - -"He's just a nut," he heard Jack assure Moe in an anxious whisper. "He -won't cause trouble." - -"I can see he is and won't," Moe said drily, shifting the gun to the -hand from which Lucky dangled. - -But Phil kept on toward the towering figure. He tried to stop, but -the torturer inside him wouldn't let him--and now once again the same -torturer pried open his teeth and lips. - -"Put him down," he repeated. "You can't have him. Nobody can." He -raised his fists, but the left one wouldn't close. - -Moe looked at him disgustedly. The big fist came toward Phil's jaw, -very slowly. Still, there somehow wasn't enough time to get out of the -way. - - - - - VIII - - -Phil struggled through the slap-slap of an invigorating gray surf, -until he realized it was a wet towel wielded by Juno. - -"How's the head?" she inquired with a grin that showed her lip scar. - -The head seemed twice as thick and heavy as usual to Phil, but he -didn't feel any special pain until his exploring hands came to the lump -on his chin. - -"You're okay," she told him, tossing the towel on the upset black and -silver table. He doubted it. - -"Do you think that by any chance Mr. Brimstine is a Beelzebite?" - -Phil gingerly swiveled his head around. Sacheverell, whose green -garment now seemed just a garish and not too clean bathrobe and whose -dark complexion was merely sunburn again, appeared to be having a -conference of some sort with Jack and Cookie. They were drinking. Mary -was busy at her work table. - -"A what?" Cookie asked suspiciously. - -"You know, a Satanist, a devil-worshipper," Sacheverell explained -briskly. "That would explain his stealing the Green One. A Satanist -wouldn't want good to bloom in the world." - -"Stop talking that silly guff," Cookie told him. "Moe Brimstine -isn't interested in any kind of mystical crud or anything else, for -that matter, except the do-re-mi. And neither is Mr. Billig. And -Moe Brimstine wouldn't be working for anyone but himself or Mr. -Billig--probably both. That's true, isn't it, Jack?" - -The kingman didn't seem at all inclined to be talkative, but at this -question he did nod his head with conviction. - -Juno put a glass in Phil's hand. "Here, drink this," she told him. Phil -looked at the brown stuff. "What is it?" he asked. - -"Not soybean milk," she assured him. "Drink it up!" - -The whiskey, which tasted as if it were laced with something bitter, -burned his throat and brought tears to his eyes, but almost immediately -his head began to feel clearer. He surveyed the room. Outside of Mary's -work table, none of the mess had been cleaned up, though someone had -taped the Moslem prayer rug over the broken window. - -"And what's more," Cookie was saying dogmatically, "your idea about -that cat being mystical is crud too." - -Sacheverell looked at him and Jack with exquisite blankness. "But -didn't you feel it?" he asked. "Didn't you feel what it did to all of -us?" - -Jack shifted uneasily and didn't meet his gaze, but Cookie shrugged his -shoulders and said nervously, "Oh, that! We were just all of us worked -up, between your mumbo-jumbo and the fighting. We'd have believed -anything." - -"But didn't you feel your whole being change?" Sacheverell insisted. -"Didn't you feel universal love and understanding burgeon?" - -"Universal sky-pie!" Cookie said rudely. "I didn't feel a thing that -meant anything. Did you, Jackie?" - -The kingman didn't quite nod his head, but he certainly didn't shake -it. And he didn't look at Sacheverell. - -The latter surveyed them both with sad wonderment. "You've already -forgotten," he said. "You've made yourselves forget. But how," he asked -Cookie, "do you explain the behavior of the cats? They recognized the -Green One. They tendered him worship." - -"They just panted around after him," Cookie asserted. "He's probably -an oversexed hermaphrodite mutant. And another thing--if that cat's -mystical and all dripping with powers, why did he let himself be -knocked out? Why didn't he feed Moe Brimstine some universal sky-pie?" - -"There was glass and distance between them," Sacheverell reminded him. -"Besides, if Mr. Brimstine is a Beelzebite--" - -"What's more," Cookie went on relentlessly, "why did he let himself be -knocked out by Jack in the first place? Jackie, before you stun-gunned -the little brute, you didn't feel any great burgeon of universal love, -did you?" - -Jack frowned. "I stunned him instinctively," he said slowly, his -downward gazing eyes studying the upset chalice, which chose this -moment to roll two inches. "I glimpsed something out of the corner of -my eye and shot." He paused. "I actually thought it was a mouse." - -"Instinctively or not, you stun-gunned it and we hustled it into the -locker as soon as we saw it was green," Cookie assured him decisively. -"Which certainly proves the cat has no powers. Sash here just worked -us up into thinking he had. Gave even me such an eerie feeling that if -someone had come in wearing an orange sheet and Sash had said it was -Mohammed, I'd have believed him." - -"But suppose the Green One was taken by surprise," Sacheverell argued. -"All gods have limitations. Perhaps the Green One is not so much able -to read thought as to join together telepathically the thoughts and -feelings of mortals." - -Cookie made a rude noise. Jack gave Cookie a quick look that was both -angry and imploring, as if to say, "You've proved your point. Lay off." - -Sacheverell shrugged and said, "Well, if I have to descend to your -materialistic level, what is it that makes the Green One so important -to Mr. Brimstine?" - -"How should I know?" Cookie said huffily. "Maybe he's smuggling heroin -in it or secret documents for Vanadin; maybe it belongs to the current -mistress of the King of South Africa. Did Moe tell you anything, -Jackie?" - -"Just that he'd give $10,000 for a green cat and that he didn't want -any dye-jobs. That was a couple weeks ago. Some of the other boys asked -for details, but he said there weren't any." He stood up. "But what's -the use of talking about it? We can't do anything," he said harshly, -suddenly glaring at Sacheverell, as if daring him, or imploring him, to -answer. - -"Well ..." said Sacheverell. - -Phil had finished his thinking. He got to his feet and squared his -narrow shoulders. "We can rescue the green cat from Brimstine," he -said. "Who's with me?" - -Cookie whirled on him. "Nobody, not even yourself," he said, while Jack -put his hand to his temple and groaned, "Now the Ikeless Joe." - -Juno heaved herself out of her chair and lumbered over with her glass -and bottle. "Look, Phil," she said, "I gotta admit you're a spunky -little mutt. But nobody, simply nobody, goes up against Moe Brimstine." - -Phil considered that for a moment. "I did," he said proudly. - -"Yeah, I know," she admitted, "but he didn't take it seriously." - -Phil looked at Sacheverell. "How about you?" he asked. "You believe in -Lucky." - -Cookie glared warningly at Sacheverell. "If any one of us bothers Moe -Brimstine about the green cat," Cookie said, "we'll all be inhaling -molten plastic!" - -"Well ..." said Sacheverell, looking around for advice. His gaze -settled on his wife. "Mary, what steps do you think we should take?" - -Mary, chewing her tongue over a difficult job of wax shaving, twitched -her shoulders. "I don't care what anyone else does," she said, lifting -off the microtome-thin flake. "I'm working on Moe Brimstine my own -little way." And she held up for their inspection a small wax head -which already was beginning to look like the heavy jowled assistant -boss of Fun Incorporated. "And when it's all finished," she told them, -"then needles and pins!" - -Juno said, "Ugh!" Cookie looked almost impressed. While Sacheverell -gnawed his lip thoughtfully and, with a wary eye on Jack and Cookie, -said, "Yes, I suppose that is the best way after all." - -"Okay," Phil said and started for the door. - -"Where do you think you're going?" Cookie demanded. - -"To get him back," Phil said. - -At that there was a rush of footsteps and several voices competing in -assuring him he would do no such thing, but it was Juno who grabbed his -shoulders and swiveled him around. - -"Phil," she said, "for wunct I gotta admit that I agree with these -jerks. You're not going to do anything about that--that fool cat. You -just gotta get that through your nut wunct and for all." - -Phil just smiled at her. - -She shook her head disgustedly. "I shouldn't have give you that -whiskey." - -"It wasn't the whiskey, but what you put in it," Cookie interjected -crisply. "He's high." - -Phil grinned at him serenely, as if to prove his point, then suddenly -they all stepped back a bit, and for a moment he thought they had -recognized his supreme self-confidence and bowed to the inevitable. -Then he realized that they were looking beyond him and he felt cool air -from the porch. - -Dr. Romadka put down a black bag inside the doorway, said smilingly, -"Hello, Sacheverell. Hello, Mary," and nodded briefly to Jack, Juno, -and Cookie, before casually turning his gaze to Phil. - -"Well, Phil," the analyst said waggishly, "that was quite a chase you -led me, and I consider myself very lucky to have found you at all. -It was a most interesting conversation we were having and I'm eager -to continue it." He spared the others a glance. "You'll excuse us -talking professional matters for a moment, I hope. Now, Phil," he went -on persuasively "I imagine that the ... er ... person who persuaded, -or rather forced you to run away, tried to put all sorts of ideas -into your head. But I'm sure I can show you in a few moments just how -nonsensical they are. Incidentally, it was that same person who turned -out the lights in the first place and put all the doors on code. Quite -a trickster, eh? And my daughter, too! So say good-by to your friends, -Phil--I hope they won't be too angry with me for dragging you off." - -By this time Dr. Romadka was far enough into the light so that the -four streaks of dried blood on his cheek showed up plainly. Mary said -mischievously, "Anton, I never did believe in that wild woman patient -of yours who was always threatening mayhem, but now I guess I'm going -to have to. Somebody clawed you real good." - -Dr. Romadka's smile thinned a trifle. "Quite a few illusions turn out -to be very real, Mary," he said lightly, "although it's usually my job -to prove the opposite. Eh, Phil? Such as that there really aren't any -young women with hoofs and black fur who forget to turn off the window -when they undress?" - -"Or any green cats?" Phil asked quietly. - -"Yes, anything like that," Dr. Romadka agreed curtly. - -"Why don't you admit, doctor," Phil went on coolly, "that the green cat -is another of those illusions that turn out to be very real? And that -you're after it? You wouldn't startle these people a bit. They've all -seen the green cat." - -Dr. Romadka's eyes blazed with sudden suspicion, which didn't -altogether abate when Cookie said in scandalized tones, "We did not," -and Jack insisted, "Doc, we don't know what the guy's talking about. -But we do know he's a nut. That's why I sent him to you in the first -place." - -Phil watched with amusement as the psychoanalyst sharply scanned Juno, -Sacheverell and Mary. Then Phil chuckled and said to them, cryptically, -"It might be worse for you if I go off with the doctor instead of up -against Brimstine." - -New suspicions flared in Dr. Romadka's eyes, but Jack said swiftly, -"Look, doc, are you going to take this guy in charge and put him away -somewhere so that he won't be able to cause any trouble?" - -"That's one thing you can be sure of," Dr. Romadka snapped, shedding -his smiles and subtlety. "Get this straight, Phil, you're coming with -me whether you want to or not. In case you're thinking about running -away again, I have several friends outside." - -"Then that's swell," Jack said, "I'm all for it. We'll be glad to get -rid of him." - -Juno, who had been frowning for a long while, now rocked her head like -a puzzled bull. "Gee, Jack, I dunno," she said. "I don't like it at -all." - -"Juno--" Jack began threateningly. - -"I don't like the idea of tossing the little guy to the wolves," she -finished defiantly. - -"To the wolves, Mrs. Jones?" Dr. Romadka asked dangerously. "That's -done to save others. Please explain--" - -But at that moment Sacheverell came hustling forward with great -determination. There were no longer any traces of sympathy in the stern -glance he fixed on Phil. "I think that Anton and Jack are quite right," -he announced, seizing Phil by shoulder and elbow and marching him -toward the door. "I'm tired of your deceptions, Mr. Gish. You go right -along with Anton and his friends, and no nonsense." - -Phil heard a grunt of satisfaction from Dr. Romadka. He tried to twist -away from Sacheverell, but the latter pressed even more closely to his -side, so that his face was next to Phil's ear, and suddenly whispered, -"Up the stairs, two flights." - -The next moment, Phil felt himself pushed away, while Sacheverell -reeled with a yelp into Dr. Romadka, who was stooping for his black -bag, and at the same time managed to upset the antique floor lamp that -dimly lit the hall. - -Then Phil was racing up the creaking stairs in the sudden darkness, -helping himself along by yanks at the ricketty balustrade, while -behind him he heard shouts and racing footsteps. Nearest were those -of Sacheverell, who was crying manfully, "There he goes! After him, -everyone!" - -Phil raced along the backstretch of corridor and up the second flight, -Sacheverell flapping at his heels like a green bat. At the top he -grabbed Phil and shoved him through a door. For a moment their faces -were close. - -"Out the window and over the beam," Sacheverell whispered. "Dare -anything for _him_." - -Then the door was swiftly shut and he heard Sacheverell yell, "He's -gone up in the attic. Follow me." Phil was in darkness, facing a tall -window dimly aglow from outside, while about his feet cats who had -taken refuge in the room scurried frantically. - -He walked over to the double-paned thing of wavy, ancient glass. He had -read more than one comedy scene involving the impossibility of opening -such primitive windows, but this one came up easily enough and all the -way. He ducked through and crouched on the sill outside, steadying -himself with one hand. - -Around him was nineteenth-century, musty smelling wood and slate. -Opposite him, about twenty feet away, was the top-level street, busy -with speeding electrics. Joining the two was a metal beam about eight -inches wide, faintly outlined in the glow from the car's headlights. -The beam was grimy with dirt. It based itself in the brick chimney that -rose just beside the window. In fact, one of Phil's feet was on it. -Below were two stories of mostly darkness. - -What happened next may very well have been made possible by the -fear-abolishing, nerve-steadying drug Juno had put in his whiskey, -though Phil laid it to the influence of Lucky and to Sacheverell's -grotesque yet strangely thrilling injunction. Certainly Phil was no -athlete and had, if anything, a touch of acrophobia. - -At any rate, he slowly got to his feet, let go the window, poised -himself for a moment, and then ran lightly across the beam. He rolled -clumsily over the railing at the other end and sprawled on the sidewalk. - -At the same instant a needle of glaring blue lanced up through the -dark behind him. It cut through the beam at an angle, spat redly for a -moment against the black "roof" a few feet above the Akeleys' house, -and winked out. - -The beam held for a moment, then slowly slid past itself at the cut. -The chimney fell lazily. There were yells and one scream came from -below. The roof of the Akeley place slid forward a foot--and stopped. -Dust mushroomed up. - -Then Phil was racing down the street to a cab parked a quarter of -a block away. He was thinking that, whatever those orthos of Moe -Brimstine's boys were, apparently Dr. Romadka's friends had them too. -He couldn't help sparing a thought for the plight of the group in the -reeling attic. He could almost hear Juno's titanic curses. - -Then he was piling into the cab. - -"The Tan Jet," he told the driver. "It's a kind of night club." - -"Yeah, I know," the latter said in a voice heavy with knowledge, fixing -on Phil the sad, resigned gaze one reserves for those who insist, -against all good advice, on running to their dooms. - - - - - IX - - -Someone singing, "Turn of the Century Blues" in a sultry, melancholy -voice was all that Phil could hear as he walked down the dark ramp -and into the hardly brighter Tan Jet. No live or robot doorman was -on guard, at least no obvious one, and no hostess came hurrying up. -Apparently customers were supposed to know their way around. - -There were a lot of them. They sat in small parties with a truculent -quietness that sneered at and challenged the frantic hustle of the -times and the belief that the hustle was leading anywhere. There were -no juke box theaters in the corners, no TV screens visible, and the -booths didn't seem to be equipped with handies. Four live musicians -softly blew and strummed old jazz instruments, while a single amber -spotlight shone on the coffee colored, deceivingly languid songstress, -whose sequined dress went all the way to her wrists and chin. - - I'm sad-crazy, sweetheart, tonight, - My heart is heavy in the sodium light.... - -A young man and woman coming from opposite shadowy walls sighted each -other. "Lambie Pie!" he cried. She stood stock-still as he walked up -to her and gave her a slap that rocked her red-ringletted head. Then, -"Loverman!" she cried and slapped him back. Phil could see his eyes -roll ecstatically as the red flamed in his smacked cheek. They linked -arms ritualistically and made off. - - And it don't help, sweetheart, to know - That the whole world went crazy-- - Moon-mazy and space-hazy-- - About a hundred years ago, - So-- - -At that moment Phil spotted the dark sheen of Mitzie Romadka's hair -and cloak at the far end of the room. He started toward her, suddenly -feeling a trifle uneasy. - - Put away my sky-high platform shoes - And don't bring me any happy news, - For-- - I've got those turn of the century-- - Turn of the millennium-- - Blues! - -As the listeners softly hissed their applause, Phil stopped a few feet -away from Mitzie's table. She was with three young men, but they sat -away from her pointedly, as if she were ostracized. - -The three young men, without lifting a finger, showed more of the -mystic toughness that seemed to be the specialty of the joint than -any other people in it. They had the quiet dignity of murderers. When -Mitzie turned to see what they were looking at, she sprang up with -the delighted cry of "Phil!" though there was alarm in her eyes. She -wasn't wearing her evening-mask. She walked over to him and slapped him -stingingly with her left hand. - -He whipped up his hand to slap her back, hesitated, and barely managed -a sketchy pat. She glared at him but turned back with a bright smile, -saying gayly, "Fellows, Phil. Phil, meet Carstairs, Llewellyn, and -Buck." - -Carstairs had a head that bulged at the top like a pear. He wore thin -bangs, the effect of which was not effeminate. He remarked lazily to -Mitzie, "So this is the clown you blabbed tonight's plans to." - -Llewellyn looked very British and was very black. He said, "You also -seem to have told him we'd come here later. Puzzles me why he didn't -bring the police." - -Buck was hawk faced and had a Kentucky accent that sounded as if it -had been learned from tapes. "P'lice never tried to pick up anybody in -the Tan Jit, yit," he observed. "Not here, Otie!" This last remark was -addressed to a gaunt, mangy dog which thrust its head from under his -legs and snapped at Phil. - -Phil leaned on the table, his hand next to a tall, slim pitcher. He -said to Mitzie, "I'm surprised to find you at a tame place like this. I -expected drugs, knife fights and naked women." - -Mitzie whirled his way. "As for drugs, what do you think we're -drinking?" she said furiously. "As for knife fights, wait. And as for -naked women, you devotee of male-female wrestling, well, if Carstairs, -Llewellyn, or Buck should happen to see a girl who took their fancy, -I'd just walk up to her and rip off her clothes!" - -She was looking past Phil when she finished. He swiveled his head and -saw Miss Phoebe Filmer with a rather scared looking young man. But -Phoebe, in a half off-the-bosom chartreuse evening gown, looked even -more frightened, her face almost as green as her green-blonde hair. -Perhaps she had heard Mitzie's last remark. Then she recognized Phil, -and astonishment was added to her fright. Phil smiled at her with a -somewhat forced reassuringness. At that moment Phoebe's escort called -her attention to an empty booth back toward the door, and the two of -them hurried toward its haven with the eagerness of skimmers who have -overreached themselves. - -Phil felt remarkably bucked up. He snared an empty chair from the -next table and found himself an empty glass and filled it from the -tall, slim pitcher. Llewellyn, who, like the others had a half-inch in -the bottom of his glass, caught Buck's attention and rolled his eyes -significantly toward the ceiling. The white made eerie half-moons under -the irises. - -"Just rip 'em off," Mitzie repeated with conviction. - -Carstairs said, with a quietly scathing coldness, "Mitz, quit playing -the solicitous little mother to Llewellyn, Buck and me." He carefully -smoothed his bangs, as an ancient judge might have adjusted his wig -before pronouncing sentence. "It's quite clear that you spilled our -plans to this clown, and that he told the police so that they were -waiting for us when we knocked over the first sales-robot." - -"Quite," Llewellyn said, while Buck nodded. - -"And if I hadn't insisted on putting a new charge in the rocket -assist," Carstairs continued, "we'd have been nabbed." - -"It was just a coincidence," Mitzie asserted sharply. - -"First time we ever had a coincidence," Carstairs observed. -"Personally, I don't believe there are such things." - -Phil took a deep drink. It seemed mild, sweet stuff, compared to the -adulterated whiskey Juno had fed him. That is, it seemed so for the -first two or three seconds. Then he felt the top of his head balloon -outward, pear-wise, like Carstairs'. The dark songstress was singing -some song the refrain of which was, - - Darling, I'm queer for you. - I'm really strange, quite out of any ordinary range.... - -Carstairs continued quietly, "Mitz, we let you into the gang, we -initiated you, although we knew you were a psychoanalyst's daughter and -doubtful material--" - -Mitzie glared at him. "Initiated me?" she said. "I'll say you did!" - -"Be that as it may," Carstairs asserted slowly, "you betrayed the gang -tonight. At the best you acted irresponsibly." His words came slower -still. "Your irresponsibility lost us a wad of dough." He paused for a -long cruel moment. "You're out, Mitz. - -"Out," Carstairs repeated. - -"Definitely," Llewellyn agreed. "Yeah," Buck said, rubbing Ortie's lean -snoot. - -Phil put his elbows on the table. "Gentlemen," he said quietly, "you -say you are out a wad of dough? I am in a position to remedy that." - -Carstairs looked at him with mild irritation and raised his open hand. -Phil smiled and advanced his cheek. "I am seeking a jewel beyond -price," he continued. "In order to obtain it, I intend tonight to -burgle the premises of Fun Incorporated. I am willing to let you help -me." - -At the mention of Fun Incorporated, Buck turned his head at least half -an inch, while Carstairs almost blinked. - -"You have rather big ideas, don't you?" Llewellyn remarked quietly. - -"Yeah," Buck agreed with a yawn, "he maybe could have picked an easier -place." - -Carstairs asked Mitzie softly, "You did say he was one of your father's -nuts, didn't you?" - -Mitzie started to reply, but Phil interposed blandly, "I know a private -way into Fun Incorporated, right through Billig's office. It'll be -simple. You needn't worry about the wasps." - -Buck drawled, "What is this jewel beyond price, anyhow." - -"Something I wouldn't expect you to appreciate," Phil replied. -"However," he continued, taking a more cautious slug of the mind -swelling drink, "there should be enough in the way of ordinary -valuables lying about to compensate you for your effort. I understand -that Fun Incorporated is rather wealthy. For one thing, all -sales-robots work from there," he finished grandly. "Why not hit them -where they live?" - -Otie stretched leanly from under Buck's chair and snapped at Phil's -hand. Phil, stiffened by the drink, didn't move it. The jaws clashed -hardly an inch away. "Why do you call him Otie?" Phil asked. - -"'Cause he's a coyote," Buck explained, almost with condescension. -"S'posed to have been bred back for ancestral traits to the Oligocene -type." - -Phil found himself wondering whether cats could be bred back to their -Egyptian ancestors and whether those ancestors might have been green. - -In the pause, Mitzie's eyes grew bright. She looked at her companions. -"Why don't we take him up on it?" she said lightly but not casually. "I -mean, about Fun Incorporated. It sounds exciting. - -"Why don't we?" Mitzie repeated after a moment. - -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck sat there as coolly and as contemptuous -of any challenge as when Phil had first seen them. Yet there was a -difference. - -"Of course, it's risky," Phil cut in. "Moe Brimstine's boys have -orthos." - -"What do you know about orthos?" Carstairs demanded hungrily. - -Phil shrugged. "They're blue and they sizzle," he said. "I got shot at -with one earlier tonight." - -"Why don't we, I'm asking?" Mitzie pressed. - -"I asked Juno and Jack Jones to help me," Phil put in. "You know, the -wrestlers. But they decided not to." - -Still no one answered Mitzie's question. "Well, I guess that's it," she -said with a triumphant smile, turning away from the table. "Come on, -Phil." - -They had taken three steps when Carstairs began to chuckle quietly. -Phil might have kept going, but Mitzie turned back with a carefully -repressed eagerness that Phil resented. - -"Don't kill yourselves running," Carstairs said. "Llewellyn and Buck -and I are signing up for this little expedition, providing the clown -can give the right answers to a few questions when we get outside." He -smiled as he got up. "Just one thing, Mitz. This time there better be -no cops." - -Mitzie laughed. Phil accepted the situation with a "Glad to have your -help, boys," and started to take Mitzie's arm, but she linked hers with -those of Carstairs and Llewellyn, not sparing Phil another look. - -The sequined singer had shifted to a snappier rhythm. - - Slap me silly, honey, - Beat me till I break. - Love is very funny, - Laugh until I ache.... - -To solace his injured feelings, Phil veered over to Phoebe Filmer's -booth, where the green-blonde was being rather pointedly annoyed by two -bearded young men while her escort looked on agitatedly. - -Phil tapped the nearest ruffian on the shoulder. "Lay off, boys," he -commanded, with a meaningful nod toward his own party. Buck at least -looked his way and Otie growled. The bearded ruffians slunk off. Phil -made Phoebe a tiny bow. - -"Thank you," she said weakly and astoundedly. - -He gestured that it was a mere nothing and walked off. - -"Say," she asked, hurrying after him and dragging her escort with her, -"did you ever find that green cat of yours?" - -He smiled at her. "No," he said, "but I'm going to." - - - - - X - - -"And how did you plan to get inside when the place is closed for the -night?" Carstairs prodded sardonically. - -For answer Phil cocked his eyebrows defiantly and gave the restaurant -door a smart shove. It swung silently inward. He led them in haughtily, -vaguely aware that Llewellyn was examining the lock. - -The long room was very dark. It smelled stalely of people and liquor -and seared meat; Phil even thought he could distinguish Juno's burned -rabbit chops. Otie snuffed eagerly and tugged Buck forward by his -leash. Phil steered their course confidently between the counter and -the booths. He was feeling particularly pleased with himself because -Mitzie had found opportunity to ask him for his address on the way over. - -"All right, all right," he heard Carstairs whisper behind him to -Llewellyn, "so the lock was burned. Somebody's ahead of us. We'll be -watching out." - -Phil pushed open the door to the stairs, and hesitated. Inside it was -now completely black. - -Something hissed softly beside him and a luminescent cone puffed out. A -couple of seconds later, the half dozen treads of the stairway glowed -milkily. - -Buck chuckled inches from Phil's ear. "Lum'niscint mist," he explained -with professional casualness. "You get going. I'll spray." - -Phil started up, the milky surface light keeping two or three treads -ahead of him in blobby advances. The mist got on Otie, so that he -glowed like the Hound of the Baskervilles. Some of it even got on -Phil's trouser bottoms and sockasins. - -"We're certainly marked if we have to run away and hide," Phil -commented dubiously as he reached the corridor he and Juno had come -through and then took the unknown way upward. - -"Uh-uh," Buck chuckled wisely, "'cause I'm spraying a neutralizer -behind us." He directed at Phil's feet a dark, faintly hissing -cannister and Phil's feet blacked out, along with a blob of surrounding -treads. Looking back, Phil saw that the glow on the stairs vanished -abruptly. He could not see Mitzie, Carstairs, and Llewellyn. - -He asked Buck, "How do you manage two cannisters and Otie all at the -same time?" - -"Hell, I could aim a squirrel rifle and run a still in addition," Buck -assured him. - -Phil became aware of a dim radiance above him, beyond the range of -Buck's mist. Buck hurriedly neutralized all the luminescence, including -that on Otie and Phil. Phil cautiously went up the last ten treads, -the upper radiance increasing all the while, and found himself in a -shadowy, curving corridor. His steps got shorter and shorter, then -stopped. - -A couple yards ahead lay three swollen furry shapes, each with a half -dozen slim black things stuck into them, like feathered darts. - -He recognized at least two of the dead cats. Although grotesquely -puffed up, their markings told him they were a Siamese and a short hair -he had seen at the Akeleys'. - -"Watch it!" he heard Carstairs whisper, but at the same instant Otie -jerked away from Buck and moved swiftly forward, his leash trailing, -to snuff at the nearest swollen shape. The tail of the dart next to -Otie's nose began to revolve with a faint, feathery rustle. Otie became -tensely still, disregarding his master's anxious, "Back, Otie!" The -rustle became a whirr. Otie suddenly snapped sidewise at the dart, but -at the same instant the dart withdrew quickly from the dead cat. Otie's -teeth clashed emptily. The dart hovered a few feet in the air, just -like a huge black wasp. "Don't anybody go closer," Carstairs ordered -hoarsely. Buck grabbed for the end of the leash, but it was flirted -away from his hand when Otie abruptly changed position, watching the -dart with deadly intentness. - -The whirr became a loud sinister buzz. There were two quick _zings_ and -the hovering dart trembled like a blown candle flame. Half turning, -Phil saw that Carstairs was shooting at it with some sort of airgun. -The dart began to waltz in little loops. Otie leaped straight up and -snapped at it as a dog might at a bee, but the dart curtsied away. - -Buck's "Back, Otie," was desperate. Otie stayed on his feet and -batted at the dart with his paws. There were more futile _zings_ from -Carstairs' airgun. The dart looped back and hovered in front of Otie's -muzzle. As he opened his jaws for a snap, it shot down his throat. - -Otie, his eyes and jaws open wide, beat the air with his paws. Then he -dropped to all fours and hurled himself off at top speed. He slammed -against a wall, got up with difficulty, trembled over to Buck, and fell -down and didn't move. It seemed to Phil that the gaunt creature was -taking a deep breath, and then Phil suddenly felt sick, for the coyote -was beginning to swell. - -"Don't touch him!" Carstairs shouted, but Buck was keeping his -distance. Carstairs came up beside Buck and leaned prudently forward, -his bangs swinging out from his forehead. "Always did want to see one -of those things in action," he said softly. - -"They're what they call singular missiles, aren't they?" Llewellyn -asked fascinatedly, coming up. "Anti-individual, I mean." - -Carstairs nodded. "Used them in the last cold war, though hardly any -rumors got out. They were for assassinations. The FBL and the Russkies -could tell tales. They're supposed to be driven by a tiny, ion-emitting -radioactive fan. I wish I had a counter so I could know. And of course, -they home on the radiant heat of flesh and then inject a poison." - -Buck muttered, "Otie." The coyote's puffed eyes turned toward him, then -glazed over. Buck jerked up and made a derisive noise. "Always was a -dumb pooch," he said harshly. Mitzie, drawn even with Llewellyn, looked -on coldly. - -Phil started ahead, drugs battling nausea inside him, so that the dim -corridor seemed both vivid and unreal. - -"Where are you going?" Carstairs demanded. - -Phil shrugged. "To find what I came for," he said hazily. - -"Well, keep away from the cats," Carstairs called after him softly, but -Phil was already hugging the wall. - -"How we know those sing'lar missiles won't heat up and go for us like -they went for Otie?" he heard Buck demand fretfully. - -"The others got through, didn't they?" Carstairs said irritably. - -"What others?" Phil heard Buck ask. - -"The ones who burnt the lock on the door, the ones who threw the cats -ahead of them to draw the missiles," Carstairs told him impatiently. -"Incidentally, if any of the missiles start spinning their tails, you -might by throwing your coat over them." - -Beyond the dead cats, Phil came to a silvery mesh barricade with -several jagged cuts in it, three of them making a crude doorway. The -mesh looked fine and strong enough to have kept the wasps on this side. -He stepped over the fallen section of mesh. The cut ends of silvery -wire were rounded and fused, as if by great heat. - -Just beyond the mesh lay a chunky man in a gray, company guard uniform. -He had a gun in his hand. He was intact except that the top of his head -had rolled about a foot away. It had been sliced off tidily just above -the nose by something hot. Phil remembered how neatly the blue needle -had sliced the steel beam. He hurried past toward an open arch just -ahead, and jerked back from a large gray snake coiled there. Then he -saw that the snake was a robot doorman like Old Rubberarm, and looking -higher he saw that it had been sliced off close to the wall. - -Mitzie and the rest came through the mesh. Carstairs kneeled eagerly by -the dead man and examined the gun he was clasping, but a moment later -got up with a shrug. - -"Not an ortho, eh?" Buck inquired. "Usin' those sing'lar missiles, -you'd think they'd be up to date in other things." - -"No, just an ordinary gas gun," Carstairs told him. "But we can be -pretty sure his head wasn't taken off by a red hot buzz saw. The others -must have orthos." He turned on Phil and grabbed him by the lapels of -his jacket. "Look here, clown," he said quietly, "who are those others? -You must have known someone was going to break in here tonight. You -were counting on that door being open." - -"We are a bit like jackals, aren't we?" Phil remarked dreamily. - -Carstairs twisted his jacket. "Who were they?" - -Phil didn't react, but he did jerk around suddenly when he heard Moe -Brimstine say metallically, "Whatcha want, Mack?" - -Llewellyn had pulled out the stub of gray robot arm sticking from the -wall. - -"Quit that," Carstairs ordered curtly, letting go of Phil. - -"Take it easy, Carstie old boy," Llewellyn said with a smiling flash of -white teeth. "Here's a bit of an odd thing. See where whatever sliced -this robot arm cut into the wall beyond? Well, follow back from the cut -in a straight line through the slice in the robot arm." - -Like the others, Phil followed Llewellyn's directions and saw that the -straight line ended in a deep cut in the floor a half dozen feet behind -them. - -"I don't git it," Buck said. "You mean somebody shot some kind of beam -from the next floor under us?" - -Llewellyn said, "Hardly. The evidence points to a gun that shoots -in opposite directions at the same time. I fancy that if we'd have -looked behind us at the head of the stairs, we'd have seen some cuts -mirror-imaging those in the mesh." - -He thinned his eyes at Carstairs. "I'm beginning to think orthos are -rather strange weapons, Carstie old boy." He glanced at Phil. "You said -they're blue and sizzle, Mr. Gish. Do they also backfire?" - -"Say, look at this here communicator," Buck interrupted. He had been -poking around the side of the corridor behind the guard. "One button's -got a new-looking gadget rigged up to it that's pushed it twice now -while I've been watching." - -"Don't touch it," Carstairs said. "It's probably a button Headless here -is supposed to thumb every so often to show he's on guard. Whoever -broke in ahead of us knows their business. Once more, clown, who were -they?" - -"Yeah, talk," Buck said, coming up beside Carstairs. "I figure you're -responsible for my Otie gettin' killed." - -"Indeed, do," Llewellyn said, at the same moment letting go of the stub -arm which contracted toward the wall until it was like a wrinkled scar, -while at the same time, as though internal injuries were now showing -up in the thing, a broken clockworks version of Moe Brimstine's voice -wheezed, "That's right, Mack. Go away and stay away." - -In the moment while that eerie and ominous admonition held everyone -else stock-still, Phil walked with drugged aplomb past Llewellyn and -through the arch. - -"Gentlemen," he said, "I imagine you would like to inspect the treasure -house." - -He faced a room that was not extremely high ceilinged, but so wide -and long that the only clearly visible wall was the one against which -they were standing. The room was not brightly lit, yet it seemed so -because of the brightness of the two sorts of ranked objects on which -the light fell. To the left were row on endless row of sales-robots, -shiny high turtle shapes with a smaller dome set on the main one, the -same efficient metal hucksters that daily and eveningly roamed the -streets, guiding themselves and spotting customers by hypersonic radar -and visual scanner. Only now their fascinating windows for displaying -samples were closed, their money collecting and commodity bestowing -arms were neatly folded, the restless wheels under their metal skirts -were still, and their dulcet voices rich with a restrained sex appeal -suitable to robots (male voices for females, female for males, -sprightly and wise-cracking for children) were likewise silent. - -To the right, marshaled with equal precision, were a host of -dress-display robots, arrayed in everything from high collared -sable evening cloaks to bathing jewelry. Their hair gleamed with -a hundred tints, their suede-rubber skins glowed with a creamy -seductiveness, they held themselves with the poise of princesses, but -like the sales-robots they were still. No slinky parading, no cute -individualized gestures, no mysterious or haughty smiles, no soft lips -opening to recite the qualities and prices of the garments they were -modeling. They all stared straight ahead like Egyptian mummies not yet -wrapped and indeed one, appropriately crowned and clad in a filmy -sheath, was a precise copy of Nefertiti. - -It occurred to Phil that the ranked sales-robots and dress-display -robots really were a military display, that he was looking at the armed -might--the money army and the glamor army--of Fun Incorporated. - -Llewellyn was the first to break the silence. He darted to the nearest -sales-robot, made some practiced manipulations, and then there was a -clinking and he was waving a green and silver handful and his teeth and -the whites of his eyes shone gleefully in his black face. - -"They're still carrying the day's cash!" he called softly. - -Buck looked from the money army to the glamor army with greedy -indecision. When Carstairs snorted contemptuously, he trotted over to -help Llewellyn, who was methodically working his way down the first row -of sales-robots. - -Despite his show of greater self control, it was obvious that -Carstairs' hands were itching too. He looked at Phil uncertainly. Then, -"Wake up, Mitz," he commanded sharply. She obediently turned toward him -an oddly incurious face. "Mitz," he went on, "I want you to guard the -clown. If he tries to get away or goes for any buttons, use your shiv -on him." She nodded. - -"Hey," Buck called in an excited stage whisper, "I think we're coming -to some that are gambling robots." - -But Carstairs didn't go at once, although he was noiselessly snapping -his fingers in an excess of impatience. He studied Mitzie fiercely. -"You get it, Mitz? I don't want any slip-ups. You made one already -today. Not that I believe for a minute you're soft on the clown, but -you've acted a bit silly around him. There mustn't be any more of that. -Understand?" - -This time her nod, though mute as the first, seemed to satisfy him and -he rushed off to join Llewellyn and Buck. - -At the same instant Phil quietly turned around and walked through an -archway just beside the one through which they had entered the big -room. He hadn't taken ten steps down the curving corridor before Mitzie -had whirled past him and poised herself squarely in his path. - -"Get back," she whispered. The hand directing the ten-inch knife at -Phil's chest didn't waver enough to make the frosty highlights on it -flicker. - -Phil smiled at her. "Mitzie," he said gently, "your friends have found -what they came for, but I haven't. You're going to let me go past." - -She spat her denial and advanced the knife so that it touched his shirt. - -Phil didn't budge. "You're going to let me go past," he repeated -softly, "because you're not sure any more that being cruel and smart, -and if need be deadly, is the right way to face the world. You're -not sure any more that the approval of your gang is the only thing -that matters. Incidentally, it's a pretty grudging approval, Mitzie, -something you've had to sit up and do tricks for like that other dumb -pooch, and your comradeship with them isn't at all the romantic, until -death, one for all and all for one thing you pretend it is. But I -haven't the time to tell you any more about that now, because I've got -my business and I've got to get on with it." - -"Get back," she snarled. But Phil, although the knife now pricked his -chest, knew it was no longer a command but a plea. - -"I'm going past now, Mitzie," Phil murmured and walked ahead into the -knife. For about two feet it drew back at exactly the same speed with -which he walked into it, then it was whipped suddenly to one side, and -as he passed Mitzie he caught the choked off beginning of a sob. - -Neither of them made another sound. He looked back once and saw her -profile in the light from the big room, and the slack line of her -shoulder and the arm holding the knife. Often faces look unexpectedly -weak in profile, but Phil felt he'd never seen one that also looked so -tragically lost. - -Its image haunted him as the curving corridor grew darker and then -lighter again and then made a very sharp turn and unexpectedly emerged -into a long, richly furnished room. He blundered a step forward before -he saw there were three people at the far end and that one of them -was Moe Brimstine. They weren't looking his way and he could have -ducked back out of sight easily enough, but he hurried it too much and -brushed against a slim pillar topped by a small aquarium in which tiny -pink, green and violet octopuses clung and swam. The pillar teetered -dangerously. Stumbling as he grabbed to steady it, he fell out into the -room with it and thudded into the foam flooring, as the water and the -candy colored octopuses gushed all over. - - - - - XI - - -After a couple of seconds Phil decided regretfully that keeping himself -scrunched against the yielding floor with both eyes tightly closed was -not going to help. He opened them cautiously, blinked at the flooring, -and tried to nerve himself to look up. Meanwhile: - -"Brimstine, what's keeping that FBL man?" - -"Now don't worry, Mr. Billig. He'll be here any minute." - -"I'm beginning to doubt it. What if they're lying about sending a man, -and actually they're planning to raid us, counting on picking up the -green cat when they do?" - -"The government wouldn't dare do that, Mr. Billig. They need the green -cat, or they think they do." - -"Then why isn't that FBL man here?" - -"I tell you not to worry, Mr. Billig. Relax. Let Dora stroke your -forehead." - -"Pfui!" - -Considerably puzzled, Phil lifted his chin off the flooring and -cautiously swiveled his head. The Mr. Billig he'd heard mentioned -with so much awe turned out to be a very gaunt dark man who looked -at first glance thirty, at second seventy, and at third a mystery to -which youth-prolonging hormones might provide a clue. He was dressed in -severely cut black sports togs. Moe Brimstine bulked a lot bigger, but -only physically--his blunt manner had altered to that of a servant with -clownish privileges. Even his black glasses now looked a trifle comic. - -The other member of the trio was a breathtakingly beautiful violet -blonde whose dress consisted of an endless spiral of fine silver wire -over a white satin sheath. She was sitting on a table, watching the -others with a cold smile. Mr. Billig was pacing steadily as if engaged -in some kind of road-work, while Moe Brimstine was hovering behind him -like an anxious trainer. - -But to Phil the one overwhelming fact was that they weren't paying any -attention to him at all. Apparently his crashing with the aquarium -into the room hadn't been of enough importance to rate a glance--or if -there had been a glance, it had been a mighty short one. Besides being -utterly mystified and quite frightened, Phil felt a bit piqued. - -"I don't think you should take that attitude toward Dora, Mr. Billig," -Moe Brimstine was saying. "She's a very clever girl; just how clever -even you might enjoy finding out. Isn't that right, Dora?" - -"I am infinitely skilled in giving pleasure to men, women and -children," Dora said with a yawn. "Among other things I have memorized -all the important pornographic books written since the dawn of history." - -"Pfui and trash! Brimstine, you still don't seem to realize just how -serious this is. I guess I should tell you that, according to my latest -information, the government is all set to indict not only three of -our governors and a half hundred of our mayors, but also four of our -national senators and a dozen of our representatives." - -This news did seem to take Moe Brimstine aback. "But that's the whole -lot," he said softly. - -"Not quite, but almost," Billig snapped. - -"It would mean the absolute finish of Fun Incorporated." - -"And what have I been saying to you?" Billig demanded. - -Phil sat up a bit morosely and settled his chin on the back of his -right hand to watch them. This maneuver attracted no attention -whatsoever. He gave up trying to figure it out. - -Moe Brimstine had recovered his spirits with a happy shrug. "Anyhow, -you've got the green cat, so you're safe." - -"Have I got it?" Billig demanded, stopping his pacing. "How well have -you got that cat locked up, Brimstine?" - -"Look, Mr. Billig, I got it in a copper cage where nobody can get at it -and it can't get at nobody, even electronically. Besides, it's still -stunned. You can't ask for more than that, can you?" - -"Maybe not," Billig allowed grudgingly. "But then I come back to my -other point: How can we be sure the government needs the cat so badly -they'll be willing to quash all those indictments in exchange for it?" - -"Now, don't worry about that, Mr. Billig. That's one thing we can be -sure of. We've known for at least a month that finding that cat has -been the absolute top priority, top secret job of the FBL, the FBI and -the special secret service." - -"But why should it be?" Billig was pacing again. "Just a funny colored -animal. It doesn't make sense." - -"Look, Mr. Billig, we've been all through this before. They're -absolutely convinced that cat is terribly dangerous. They think it can -control minds and change personalities, and they seem to think they -have cases to prove it, including four top officials who've managed to -skip the country, apparently headed for Russia. They've taken all sorts -of secret steps, not only to find the cat, but to guard the president -and all important officials from any possible contact with it. As far -as our information goes, the first government theory was that the cat -came from Russia, that the Lysenko view of genetics was true and that -the Russkies were able to breed intelligent animals with extrasensory -powers, for use as spies and saboteurs and possibly to replace a large -part of the world's population. But now the government seems to believe -that the cat is a mutant or monster of some sort and that it's in a -position to conquer America--the whole world even--by controlling -feelings and thoughts." - -Phil sat up indignantly. He wanted to say, "Why, Lucky isn't like that -at all." In his interest in the conversation, he had almost forgotten -his incredible situation. - -"I know, I know," Billig was saying, "but what do you think about it, -Brimstine?" - -Brimstine shrugged. "I think they're nuts," he said happily. "The cat -didn't seem anything peculiar to me, though I'm taking no chances. I -think it's all a grade-A delusion, a top secret panic." - -"You think they're nuts and you expect me not to worry," Billig -groaned. "Where's that FBL man?" - -"On his way," Brimstine assured him. "Everything's going to turn out -all right." - -"That's what you told me when the president first started to take -action against Fun," Billig flared. "You said it was just a bluff, a -sop to the midwestern vote. You told me Barnes was a drunken farmer who -could be got at twenty ways. You told me it would all blow over, like -the other six times. Well, it didn't. Something happened that changed -things." - -"I know," Brimstine admitted, seeming for once at a loss for easy words. - -"Do you know yet what happened?" Billig pressed. - -Brimstine shrugged. "I think Barnes is nuts." - -"That's your explanation for everything!" Billig roared softly. "If -something happens this time, do you suppose I'll be happy because you -tell me the coppers arresting me are nuts? Where _is_ the FBL man?" - -"You really should try and relax, I tell you, Mr. Billig," Moe -Brimstine suggested, recovering himself. "Distract yourself somehow. -Like with Dora here." And ignoring Billig's third, "Pfui," Brimstine -looked at her critically. "Fix your mouth, dear," he said. - -With a graceful obedience that nevertheless managed to be contemptuous -the violet blonde beauty slid from the table and came straight toward -Phil, who decided that now at last they'd have to stop pretending he -wasn't there. - -"Get that slinky walk, Mr. Billig," Moe Brimstine was urging. "What a -gorgeous babe, eh?" - -She tossed her head, stopped six feet short of Phil, took out a -lipstick, looked straight ahead of her, and very carefully made up her -lips. At the same time something cold and sucking closed on the fingers -of Phil's left hand. He instinctively flipped it, and a tiny pink -octopus sailed through the air toward the girl and flattened itself -against something in the air about two feet short of her. - -Phil watched it clinging there and felt his mind swell to bursting, as -if he'd had another shot of Tan Jet lemonade. Then he got up, walked -cautiously forward, and felt. - -There was an invisible flat surface, extending as far as he could -reach, between himself and the other half of the room. He realized he -was on the viewing side of a one-way mirror bisecting the room. Dora, -standing so close he could otherwise have touched her, turned, and as -she did so, her skirt brushed the other side of the surface. He saw it -was at least two inches from the side to which the octopus still clung. -A mirror would hardly be that thick. It must consist of two panes -probably with the space between them evacuated. For as he realized with -a new surprise, he must not be hearing their voices directly, but a -miked and transmitted version of them, which in turn must be binaural, -so that they would be heard in depth and the proper direction. - -Confirming this, he noted that the voices did not localize quite -as perfectly as they had seemed to before he had caught on to the -illusion. Also, the depth effect was a bit too rich, as if the mikes -were more than ears-distance apart. - -He also saw that all sources of illumination were beyond the panel. - -But now that he knew they were not ignoring him, but simply unaware of -his presence, he felt very much the burglar and very uneasy. He looked -nervously back along the corridor he'd traveled and ahead along its -darker and straighter continuation that, also this side of the panel, -led out of the room. He asked himself why Billig should have the setup -arranged and the sound turned on so that he and Brimstine and Dora -could be spied on. It didn't make sense. Although he was protected, -Phil felt a shiver legging it up his spine. - -He might have left the spy chamber but at that moment Moe Brimstine put -down a phone and said excitedly, "He's coming!" whereupon Billig at -once stopped pacing and became as cool and unworried as dark tranquil -water. He pointedly did not look at the archway beyond him, though -Brimstine did. - -A man came through the archway and stopped. He held his spine and the -expression of his face very straight. His hair was touched with gray -and his face showed years of worry--but not Billig's kind. - -Billig looked at him with a questioning smile that barely stopped -short of a smirk. He waited a moment and said softly, "Under the -circumstances, I suppose you do not care to use your name, but--" - -"It's Dave Greeley," the other said bluntly. - -"--but I do suppose that you come from the Federal Bureau of Loyalty -and that you are fully empowered to deal for the services and the -president?" - -The other nodded once. - -"Mr. Greeley, Mr. Brimstine," Billig said with a gracious wave of -his arm that reminded Phil of the swaying of a snake. "Mr. Greeley, -Dora ... er, Dora Pannes." - -The government man barely acknowledged the introductions. - -"Mr. Billig," he said, "you tell us you have the green cat. If you -have, we'll buy it." - -"And what will you pay?" Billig murmured. - -"The Moreland-McCartney letters, proving the graft those senators -received from Fun Incorporated, plus all related recording and -microwave taps. Similar material in sixty-odd other cases, which I -hardly need enumerate to you in detail." - -"Not enough," Billig said softly. - -Greeley hesitated. "Of course, I could appeal to you," he said in a -different voice; "simply as Americans, as citizens of this hemisphere -facing a deadly danger--" - -"Please, Mr. Greeley," Billig said with a chuckle. - -Greeley shut his lips tight. When he opened them, his earlier voice -spoke. - -"Letters of confidence on all the indicted officials, dated today and -signed and thumbprinted by the president and all the service heads, -with confirming vocal recordings and pictures of the recordings being -made. Naturally our experts will have to examine the cat before the -exchange is made. They can be here in twenty minutes." - -"That is better," Billig murmured, "quite a bit better. But not enough." - -"What else do you want?" Greeley demanded angrily, but it seemed to -Phil that he knew. - -"The witnesses, delivered into our hands," Billig said. "O'Malley, -Fattori, Madelin Luszcak, and the thirty-odd--no, I'll be -precise--thirty-four others." - -"That's out," Greeley said sharply. "I can't offer to pay you in human -lives." - -"Who mentioned anything like that?" Billig asked mildly. "I didn't, -did I, Moe? It's just that we'd feel safer with the witnesses in our -protective custody rather than yours." - -"You know what you'd do to them," Greeley said. - -Billig shrugged. "You wouldn't have to think about it. In any case, -there are ways to forget." And he glanced at Dora, who flashed the FBL -man a lazy, provocative smile. - -Greeley flushed. For a few seconds he seemed to be concentrating on -his breathing. "Look here, Billig," he said finally, "don't get the -idea that either I or the government feels anything but loathing and -detestation for you. Fun Incorporated has corrupted a third of a -nation, and we have your headquarters here and in twenty cities so well -cordoned a wasp couldn't get out. The sole reason we haven't smashed -you is that you tell us you've captured something that is a little -more dangerous to America than even your rotten organization. But our -patience is wearing thin. We suspect a bluff, in spite of those green -hairs you sent us. Make a deal while you can." - -"The chemical and physical analysis of the hair must have shown your -experts something very interesting," Billig murmured with a reflective -smile. "Like you say, Mr. Greeley, we have something you can't do -without. Something worth roughly--shall we say a third of a nation? It -seems to me that we are letting you off very cheaply. Consider what the -Russkies might be willing to pay. So I'm afraid the witnesses are an -essential part of the exchange. In fact, I'm certain." - -"I'm warning you," Greeley flared, "that I'm in full charge of Project -Kitty under Emmet and that I've advised Emmet and the president to -break off the deal and raid if you insist on that condition." - -"You've advised," Billig replied, "and you're under Emmet. I'm only -interested in what Barnes and Emmet have advised." - -Greeley looked as if he wished he were deaf and dumb. His hands -clenched and slowly unclenched. He set himself to speak. - -Just then a phone-light blinked. Moe Brimstine snatched it up, -obviously prepared to roar out a rebuke and slam it down. Instead he -listened silently, and kept on listening. Greeley watched him intently. - -At that moment, Phil heard the soft kiss of a door slitting open and -faint footsteps drabber in quality than the binaural richness of the -stuff he'd been listening to. He looked down the straight dark corridor -on his side of the panel. Some forty feet down it, where it ended in -a T, light now flooded across. Then Phil saw Dr. Romadka cross the -corridor at that point. The analyst was still carrying his black bag. -In the other hand was a gun. He disappeared from sight. - -"You better take this, Mr. Billig." - -Phil switched around just in time to see Billig grab the phone from -Brimstine with a glare. "Three of them?" Billig's words were staccato. -"And a fourth man and a girl, they said? And what did they tell you the -fourth man wanted? I don't care if it sounds silly! _What?_" - -Holding the phone, Billig spared Greeley a glance. "We're going to have -to delay making final arrangements for a few minutes," he said curtly. -"Dora will entertain you." - -"You can't delay," Greeley assured him with a sudden note of triumph. -"The raid starts in ten minutes unless I return. Besides, there's only -one thing important enough to make you interrupt this interview. You've -lost the green cat, or you're afraid you have." - -"I know Emmet would allow more time than that, even if he didn't -tell you," Billig snapped back at him. "Put Benson in charge of him, -Brimstine. Then come back." - -"Let me contact Emmet," Greeley said quickly. "We'll cooperate with -you fully in finding the cat. You have my word the indictments will be -quashed." - -"Word! Take him out," Billig said sharply. - -Greeley, lifting his elbow contemptuously away from Brimstine's hand, -started with him out of the room. Dora accompanied them. Greeley -pointedly edged away from her. - -"Don't be frightened, lambie," the violet blonde told him, "I'm just -bound for the little girl's room." - -Billig lifted the phone. But before he'd quite got it to his ear and -mouth, the skin around his eyes contracted with sudden suspicion and he -gazed toward Phil, or rather toward a point near Phil, so sharply that -the latter would have sprinted off, except he could not decide for a -second which way. - -Then the spread two first fingers of Billig's right hand struck like a -serpent's fangs at two buttons. - -Lights flared around Phil, everything was suddenly very still, and Phil -saw himself in a bright mirror that hid Billig and halved the length of -the room. His reflection, although fully clothed, had the expression -of a man caught naked in public. He hesitated for another desperate -second, frozen by the thought that the mirror was one great eye, then -ran down the straight corridor. He came to the T and whisked around -the corner in the direction Romadka had gone, until he heard footsteps -ahead and pounding toward him. He darted back the way Romadka had come -and found himself in a brightly lit room chiefly occupied by a heavy -copper cage with less than an inch between the bars. - -But one corner of the cage had been neatly sliced off and rested on -the floor beside it like a little three-sided orange tent. Phil looked -around for a way out and saw nothing but bright white wall marred only -by a deep cut in the same plane as the slice through the cage. His -circling look ended at the door through which he'd come. Mr. Billig -and Moe Brimstine were standing in it. Brimstine held a stun-gun, -Mr. Billig a larger weapon which, while pointing it at Phil, he held -carefully out from his side. - -"All right," Billig said, "what have you done with the green cat?" - - - - - XII - - -It couldn't have been three minutes since Phil's capture, yet it -seemed that he had been listening to Mr. Billig for years. He was -sitting apprehensively on a stool in a long low room to which he had -been conducted by two men in sober sports togs--obviously a cut above -company guards--whom Mr. Billig addressed as Harris and Hayes. Along -one of the long sides of the room were windows and a doorway leading -onto a balcony of some sort, beyond which yawned perplexing darkness. -Harris and Hayes stood behind Phil while Billig paced in front of him. - -Just now the voice that was like a tape played at triple speed, but -not so high-pitched, was saying, "Have you ever pictured $10,000,000 -concretely? Think of it this way: a yacht on the Amazon, bubble-dome -cabin, your private copter, a blonde, a brunette, and a red-head, -yourself absolute monarch of a very interesting microcosm. Doesn't it -appeal to you?" - -"But I didn't take the green cat," Phil replied quickly--Billig's speed -was catching. "I don't know where it is." - -"What do you want then?" Billig demanded. "Or like most people, are you -afraid to say? Tell me, I've heard everything." - -Phil opened his mouth, thought of Lucky, and said nothing. - -"Hit him, Harris," Billig ordered, "and don't be all day about it!" - -Pain bounced like a steel ball back and forth inside Phil's skull at -Harris' dispassionate swipes. At the last one Phil felt his head go -numb and his thoughts glassy. Harris' bank cashier face swam out of -sight, to be replaced by Billig's smooth mask with its lurking host of -wrinkles. - -Billig produced the gun he'd been carrying when Phil was caught. He -informed Phil, "I propose to cut your limbs off, one by one. The beam -burns, which keeps you from bleeding too fast." - -All Phil's glazed mind could think was how ludicrous the word "limb" -was. He wondered if Billig considered him a tree. Billig's head -persisted in circling Phil like a small planet, though that may only -have been the room swimming. Suddenly Phil stuck out an arm. - -"All right," he informed Billig, "begin with this. Don't hurt the -leaves." - -Billig lowered the gun. "You hit him too hard," he told Harris, "or -else he likes it. There are other kinds of pain. Where's Brimstine? I -told him he had only two minutes to find Jack. Hayes, frisk this man." - -Slim fingers rippled through Phil's pockets and tossed Billig -commonplace items. When the hand went for his right hand pocket, Phil -had a belated memory and made a move to prevent it, but Harris grabbed -his arms from behind. - -Hayes carefully handed Billig the figurine of Mitzie Romadka in black, -off-the-bosom frock. - -Billig rattled softly to Hayes, "I'd swear this is Mary -what's-her-name's work--the girl who used to do strip-tease dolls for -us. She always had a touch and now it's got better." He fingered the -doll delicately, studying the reactions in Phil's face. "Do you want -her?" he asked suddenly. "Would it pain you to see her hurt?" He made -as if to wring the doll's head off, then quickly set it on a table -beside him and threw up his hands. "Where _is_ Brimstine!" - -"Here," the latter announced, hulking into the room like a bear in a -great hurry. "I've located Jack. And we've caught the girl the three -hep-jerks blabbed about. She lined herself up with the dress-display -robots and might have passed herself off as one, but she sneezed." - -Mitzie was marched into the room, her hands twisted behind her by Dora, -whose face wore a disdainful smile that now seemed spiced with cruelty. -The analyst's daughter had lost her evening cape and her long dark hair -hung half over one eye. She held her chin up, as one who has struggled, -found it no use, yet not really submitted. She saw Phil and looked away -from him proudly, as if her being caught had wiped out the problem into -which he had plunged her. - -"Ah, the original," Billig observed, looking up from the figurine, -which he deftly pocketed. "Darling," he said, walking toward Mitzie, -"would you care to be featured in coast-to-coast living ads, or sit -for a line of ultra deluxe dress-display robots; would you like to be -a handie star, ambassadress to Brazil, or become my girl Friday and be -in on everything interesting that goes on in the world; would you take -$10,000,000? Just tell us what you've done with the green cat." - -Mitzie answered the five-second barrage with a shrug of her upper -lip. "Darling, I'm serious," Billig assured her. "This is a lifetime -opportunity and you're a very nice girl." And he made as if to caress -her shoulder affectionately, but instead whipped around to catch Phil's -reaction. - -Jack Jones ran into the room and whisked to a stop. He glanced at Phil -as if he didn't know him and then saluted Billig sardonically. - -"What are you standing around for?" Billig demanded. "Get to work. -Hayes, I want those three hep-jerks in here." - -Phil tried to squirm away from Harris' seemingly casual grip. And then -Jack's fingers were digging at nerves and pain was not a steel ball but -a fiery plant's red hot roots and million rootlets finding an instant -way through every crevice between the cells of his body. He heard -himself squealing, "Romadka! Romadka!" The pain lessened and he babbled -swiftly, "Dr. Romadka stole the cat. I saw him coming out of the room -where the cage is, carrying his black bag. The cat must have been -inside." - -"Who's this Romadka?" Billig whipped at him. - -"An analyst," Phil gasped weakly. He nodded at Jack Jones. "He can tell -you about him." - -"I never heard of the man," Jack asserted instantly. - -"You did," Phil mumbled desperately. "You saw how he was after me -tonight. You must have guessed he was after the green cat." - -Jack shook his head curtly. "He's making it up," he assured Billig. - -Across the room Brimstine put down a phone and called to Billig, -"Benson says Greeley's acting cool as they come, still confident the -raid will start when he said." - -"Well, don't freeze!" Billig rapped exasperatedly at Jack. "Get back to -work on him." - -As the small terrible hands approached, Phil looked imploringly at -Mitzie. - -"Dr. Anton Romadka is my father," she said coldly, "reputed to be a -great psychoanalyst. This hysteric you're wasting time on is one of his -patients." - -"Darling, why didn't you say so before?" Billig asked her joyfully. -"Dora, let go of her wrists at once!" The violet blonde complied with a -cynical hop of her slim eyebrows. - -"Darling, it escaped my mind she was still doing that, I'm sorry," -Billig assured Mitzie as he glided towards her, his feet moving -almost as glibly as his tongue. "Darling, it's very clear to me now: -this hysteric, as you accurately describe him, stole the cat on your -father's orders and handed it to your father, whom I can see you don't -like and who probably forced you to come along. Now just tell us where -your father is, or where you think he is, darling, and you'll have, not -one, but all of those things I mentioned to you a half-minute back." - -"My father hasn't skill enough to burgle a banana-vending robot," -Mitzie snapped at him. "You're as stupid and conceited and unbalanced -as all men, only faster. You think because something clever has been -done, a man must have done it. My father's a rotten analyst, but you -could use a few sessions with him." - -"Darling, we're not going to get anywhere if you talk that way," Billig -assured her laughingly. "Realize it, darling, you're among friends and -well-wishers." And he took her arm with a paternal amiability. - -Mitzie's right hand was a blurred arc and Billig sashayed back with -four bright red lines on his left cheek. - -"Grab her, Dora!" Billig ordered. The violet blonde willingly wrapped -her arms around Mitzie's waist and elbows. Mitzie avoided noticing -it. Meanwhile, Billig was rapid firing, "I assumed she was disarmed, -Brimstine. Get those claws off her." Brimstine grabbed Mitzie's right -hand around the knuckles with one of his big paws and began to jerk off -the needle-fanged thimbles. Billig waved off Harris, who had let go -Phil to offer to minister to his boss's dripping cheek. - -Billig paced back toward Mitzie. "Darling," he said, and for once the -words came slow, "you're really wonderful, you're just the sort of -charming vixen the sadisto-hackers dream up to torture the hero. But -tonight I'm afraid you're going to have to reverse roles." - -Phil's mysterious inward tormentor who had made him go up against -Moe Brimstine at the Akeleys', now got to work again and despite the -weakness of his pain-threaded muscles, forced him to start a staggering -rush at Billig, meanwhile calling out, "Don't you touch her!" - -Naturally Jack tripped him, caught him by the collar almost before he'd -painfully smashed into the flooring, and slammed him back onto the -stool. - -At that moment, Hayes and four or five other men, the latter in the -company guard costume of the half-headless man, marched a banged up -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck into the far end of the room. Carstairs, -who now had blood as well as hair trailing down his forehead, looked -steadily at Mitzie. - -"Thank you for this, Mitz," he said rather quietly. - -Llewellyn and Buck each nodded his head. - -"You take it for granted I skunked on you?" Mitzie asked. None of the -three acted as if they'd heard the question. - -Phil, watching Billig, noted a very slight shiver, smile, and widening -of the eyes, although the boss man of Fun Incorporated wasn't looking -at anything in particular. - -"Take those boys down to the company garage," Billig called to Hayes, -keeping his slashed cheek turned away. "I'll phone you orders about -them in fifteen seconds." Then, as Hayes and the guards jumped to obey, -Billig said to Mitzie in a voice just loud enough to reach Carstairs, -"Thanks again, darling. That was a nice job." - -Carstairs had time to give her one last deadly look before he was -hurried out with the others. - -"Come on, everybody," Billig said gayly, "we're going to have a little -show. Darling, would you like to take my arm? I've quite forgotten -that love tap. If you promise to be a good girl, I'll tell Dora to -let go of you." Mitzie made no reply but Dora unwrapped her arms with -lazy reluctance. "Come on, darling," Billig entreated, starting for -the balcony. Mitzie didn't look at him, but she walked at his side. He -didn't try to touch her. They moved fast. Billig looked back over his -shoulder. - -"Hurry up, everybody," he ordered exasperatedly. "Stop acting -slow-motion!" - -Brimstine, Dora and Harris quickly fell in behind them. Jack brought up -the rear with Phil. - -"I had to do that," Jack whispered in Phil's ear. "I couldn't fake it -and trust you to fake reactions well enough to fool Billig. But for -God's sake, don't spill anything more about Romadka. I know you're -Juno's lover. Well, Romadka made me bring him here. His friends are at -the house. They'll kill Mary and Sacheverell--Juno and Cookie, too--if -he gets caught." - -As Phil was trying to formulate some sort of answer to this, they -followed the others onto the balcony. Its railing was split by a -gateway, from which a metal stairway projected down and out into the -darkness, its first dozen treads glimmering faintly. - -Without warning Mitzie left Billig and darted down the stairs, taking -them three at a time. Harris lunged after her, but Billig stopped him -with a gesture. "She's doing what I want," he explained softly, "and -five times faster than if you dragged her. Won't you ever understand -it's speed I need?" - -Brimstine was closely watching Mitzie, who was now no more than a -glimmering moth flitting through a duller darkness. "She can't see the -steps any more," he said with professional admiration. "That girl's -good." - -Billig shrugged and stepped to a control panel in the railing. He -picked up a phone, then paused thoughtfully as if he were making sure -it was a full fifteen seconds since he had spoken to Hayes and not a -mere twelve or thirteen. - -"Hayes?" Billig said, and then whispered rapidly. He paused for a -moment, writhing his eyebrows, as though Hayes were being unbelievably -slow in catching on. "Of course, of course!" - -Then Billig touched a button and blinding light transformed the -darkness into a huge, empty, gray garage, its floor some thirty feet -below the balcony. There were all sorts of lines and signs indicating -which way cars should move and park, only there weren't any cars. There -were also a dozen open gateways in the gray walls, eight of them marked -"Exit." The silvery stairs down which Mitzie had flown touched the -center point of the garage's vast floor. A few paces away from that, -Mitzie stood tiny and stock-still, as if blinded by the light. - -Somewhere, far off, an electric motor was revving up. - -"Ladies and gentlemen," Billig said to Dora, Brimstine, Harris, and -Jack, but mostly to Phil, "this is the place where people park their -cars while they watch the wrestling bouts. But now the wrestling's -over and the cars are gone." He delicately touched his cheek, where the -four furrows had almost stopped bleeding. "So now we can have the place -for our little show. Mr. Gish, I must have the green cat. I believe you -value that girl's beauty and life--" - -But Phil, whose arms were gripped hard by Jack from behind, hardly -heard him he was watching Mitzie so intently. She seemed to come out -of her daze suddenly, at any rate she darted towards the nearest open -gateway. Dark, close bars shot down and blocked it, as they did all the -other gateways Phil could see. He looked at Billig and saw his dark -fingers lifting from buttons. He looked back at Mitzie and saw her -hesitate and then run back toward the silvery stairs. Billig touched -another button and the stairs retracted, telescoping upward. Mitzie -stood on the gray floor all alone. - -The revving of the unseen motor grew louder. Billig leaned over the -guard wall and looked thoughtfully at Mitzie, as if he were a cleverer -Caligula, a more practical Nero. Then he turned back, and took the -figurine of Mitzie out of his pocket, and spoke to Phil. - -"Mr. Gish," he said, "I seriously want to know where the green cat -is, or where your Dr. Romadka has taken it. Otherwise, how would you -like this to happen to her down there?" And he jerked off a leg of the -figurine. Phil could see the twin ragged cones of wax where the leg had -parted. "Or this?" Billig jerked off an arm. "Or this, or this?" - -At that moment an open topped black jeep came accelerating out from -under the balcony. Phil saw there were three people in it, though for a -moment he couldn't tell who. But Mitzie darted toward the car, calling -out excitedly, "Carstairs!" The car came on. "You're wonderful!" Mitzie -called. But then suddenly the car came forward faster and straight -toward her, and she had to dive out of the way to keep from being hit. - -The car started to swing around in a great loop. Mitzie picked herself -up from the harsh floor. - -"Or _this_!" Billig hissed at Phil, and he ripped the figurine apart at -the waist, while one thumb made a smashed flatness of the tiny breasts. -"Now please tell me where's this Dr. Romadka." - -"I don't know!" Phil yelled, struggling to get away from Jack, who -maddeningly whispered in his ear, "That's right, don't spill a word." - -"I'll remind you," Billig continued swiftly, taking something else from -under his coat, "that it's much worse for her--or for anyone--to be -hurt by people she idolizes than by people she hates. So tell me about -the green cat. Look here, this is an ortho. I can cut down that car any -moment you tell me." - -But Phil, like all the others, was watching Mitzie. Having picked -herself up, she didn't move. She simply stayed there, facing the -oncoming car. When it was so close that for an instant Phil saw -Mitzie's dark head against its chrome muzzle, it veered and missed her -by a breath. Mitzie stood motionless as a statue, though her short -skirt whipped out. - -Then she turned at the waist and watched the retreating jeep. - -"Chicken!" she jeered, loudly. - -For an instant everyone on the balcony was very still. Then there was -a dull banging, and Phil realized that Moe Brimstine was pounding the -railing, and saying, "I tell you, that girl's good." - -"Yes, she is," Billig buzzed at him curtly. Brimstine stopped his -applause, looking ashamed. - -"But," Billig continued smoothly, turning to Phil, "they're bound to -get her, sooner or later, unless...." And he wiggled the large black -gun he held in his small hand. "So you better talk." - -The jeep swung round under the balcony in a much tighter loop and -headed back, revving screamingly. Mitzie faced it, grinning, hands -as light on her hips as before. Then, just as--from Phil's point of -view--it had swallowed her up to the waist, she sprang to one side. -Phil felt her foot must have brushed the tire. The jeep slammed through -the air where she'd been. - -"_Dumb-bell!_" Mitzie screamed. - -Brimstine lifted his clenched fists above the railing, glanced at -Billig, and with an effort dropped them to his sides. Phil realized -his arms were numb, Jack was gripping them so tightly. Beyond Billig, -Harris and Dora leaned forward over the guard rail, as abstracted as -gamblers. - -But Billig himself, though presumably a gambler, was neither still nor -intent. "Look, Mr. Gish," he said rapidly, "I don't want to see this -girl smashed myself, and Brimstine here is figuring on starring her in -a knife throwing or dodge-the-car act. This is probably the last chance -you have to save her. Where's Romadka? Where's the cat?" - -Phil didn't even look at him. - -A phone-light began to blink on the control panel. Billig ignored it. -"_Where's the cat?_" he repeated. - -But all Phil could think, as the black jeep turned very tightly by the -far wall and as Mitzie pivoted to face it--all he could think was that -this had happened before, in ancient Crete, where girls as slim waisted -and dark haired as Mitzie had faced the black, charging bull and dodged -it or vaulted or somersaulted over its cruel horns, their breasts as -bare as Mitzie's, opposing the most tender thing in the world to the -most terrible. - -The phone-light continued to blink. - -The jeep finished its tight turn, Llewellyn and Buck leaning out to -balance it like a sailboat while Carstairs stuck steady as death -behind the wheel. Then it shrieked toward Mitzie. She waited until it -was almost as close as the time before, then sprang toward the left. -Quickly, almost as if it were tied to her thoughts, the jeep veered -toward the left, too. But Mitzie's feet, slamming down after that first -jump, didn't carry her farther, but reversed her direction, carrying -her back to the spot she'd first occupied. - -Again the jeep slammed past her. - -"_Double dumb-bell!_" Mitzie howled. - -The jeep, screaming into another tight turn, vanished under the -balcony. There was a grating crash, then a sick, rasping sound, as if -the jeep had sideswiped the wall but was still going. - -At the same moment a dark shouldered but pink topped figure walked -out rapidly from under the balcony. It was carrying a black bag. It -stopped, leaned over, set the black bag on the floor, and opened it. - -The black jeep came out from under the balcony, limpingly but gaining -speed. - -Something green and small stuck its head out of the black bag and -looked toward the jeep. - -The jeep didn't stop, but it slowed, and Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck -tumbled out and sprinted away from the green head as if from horror -itself. - -The jeep continued very slowly and haltingly toward Mitzie, like a -blinded, badly injured animal. - -The pink topped figure walked rapidly and mechanically back under the -balcony, as if it didn't understand the why of what it had been doing. -Belatedly, Phil realized it must be Dr. Romadka. - -The phone-light went on blinking. - -The green cat leaped out of the black bag and lightly settled itself -beside it. - -"Stun it!" Billig knifed at Brimstine and Harris. - -The green cat twisted its neck and looked up curiously. - -Brimstine and Harris looked at Billig and each took a step and peered -down over the railing and stopped stock-still. Behind them Dora was as -pale and quiet as a ghost. - -And then Phil felt it too--the same invisible golden wave of amiability -and understanding as had quieted the quarrelers at the Akeleys', but -now in a flood, a spring tide. - -"Stun that thing down there!" Billig demanded. The hidden wrinkles were -showing themselves twitchingly on his face and he was backing away from -the railing as if he couldn't bear the golden wave. - -Brimstine started to reach inside his coat, but instead picked up the -phone beside the blinking light. After a moment he said quite casually, -"The raid's begun, just as Greeley told us it would. The FBL are coming -in everywhere." - -"Stun it, I tell you! Get it somehow; it can save us," Billig ordered, -frantically fanning the air in front of his face as if to beat off the -golden wave. - -Harris just looked at him. Brimstine slowly and puzzledly shook his -head. - -Billig gave a shuddering gasp and clapped his free hand over his mouth -and nostrils, as if the golden wave were something breathed in with the -air, and fought his way to the railing. With his other hand he raised -the big gun until it was high above his shoulder. - -A needle of blue light jutted from either end of the big gun and made -smoking trenches in the opposite wall of the garage and the wall behind -them. Then Billig brought the gun steadily downward, lengthening the -forward and rearward trenches. The air smelled acid, as if laced with -ozone. The blue beam dimmed the bright lights and made everything -shadowy. - -The green cat still looked up at Billig curiously. Billig didn't look -straight back at it. The little muscles in his jaw and temple bulged -around the hand clamping shut his mouth and nose. - -The forward trench dug itself across the wall and floor, swung -drunkenly past Mitzie and the doddering jeep, got ten feet from the -green cat and hesitated. It swung this way and that, as if it had -encountered a magic circle it couldn't pierce--and stopped. - -Jack murmured, "Sash was right." - -Billig gave a great gasp and began to squeal. - -The blue beams winked out. The gun clanked on the floor. The squeal -changed to a clucking and Billig swayed. Jack jumped to catch him. - -Phil sprang forward and his fingers touched buttons he'd seen Billig -touch. The bars in the garage gateways shot up. Phil was on the -telescoped stairs almost before they began to move, and rode them to -the ground through layers of stinging ozone and golden harmony. The -jeep had trembled to a stop just short of Mitzie, who stared at it -groggily, her whole figure slack, as if a puff of wind could have -felled her. - -When the stairs touched the floor, momentum carried Phil forward a half -dozen steps but he kept his footing and circled back at a run. When -he plunged into the area between the green cat and the spot where the -jeep had been abandoned, he felt a shiver of sudden and extreme terror, -which even as he felt it, began to fade. - -But he hardly had time to ask himself whether that was what had -stampeded Carstairs and the rest, for the next instant he was calling, -"Lucky!" and Lucky was saying "Prrt!" and he was scooping up the -unresisting cat, his fingers trembling as they touched the green fur, -and darting back toward Mitzie and the jeep. Her groggy look had now -become a dazed smile of triumph and pride. - -He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her toward the jeep. "Get in!" -he shouted in her ear. "We're getting out of here. You're driving." - -A little life seemed to come back into her as her hands touched the -wheel. She kicked the starter as he scrambled in beside her, Lucky -gently clutched to his chest. "Which way?" she asked thickly. - -"Any exit gateway," he told her. - -With a rather wheezy hum, the jeep started toward the nearest gateway. -Phil felt a thinning of the golden peace around them, as if, he told -himself, Lucky were resting. The jeep, though gaining a little speed, -seemed to move as slowly as a school slideway. But looking back, he saw -that the group on the balcony was still standing as motionless as dress -display dummies with the power off--all except Billig, who was once -again moving about rapidly. - -"Get them," Phil could barely hear Billig's cracked voice implore, as -he darted from one to the other. "Kill them." - -The jeep nosed through the high doorway and started up a ramp. - -"Dora!" Phil heard Billig yell. "Grab my ortho and kill them." - -The effect of the golden wave must be wearing off, Phil thought, for -just as the top of the gateway was cutting off his view he saw the -violet blonde stoop rapidly behind the guard wall. - -The next second a blue beam flashed, and smoke and starry splatter -sprayed up just behind the jeep. The beam moved up and encountered the -top of the gateway. It notched that, came a little closer to them, and -then was stopped by the thickness of the wall. The ramp turned and Phil -saw a half dozen men in the Fun Incorporated company guard uniform. Two -of them had drawn their guns and the other four hadn't. They seemed to -be arguing hurriedly about something. They turned and saw the jeep. The -two with guns raised them and the others reached for theirs. - -Then Lucky sat up on Phil's lap straight as the statuette of Bast, and -Phil felt him let go of another of those great golden invisible waves. -Phil could tell the moment it hit the guards from the sudden change in -their tough faces. They watched the jeep with awe and incredulous grins -as it went past. - -Farther on they found themselves approaching an expanse of gray cold -light, against which a party of some twenty heavily armed men was -partly silhouetted, although they were advancing warily along the -walls. They were carrying guns, nets and sprays that could swiftly -immobilize men in plastic cocoons, and what looked like bird cages. - -They leveled their weapons, but once again and mightier than ever, so -mighty it made Phil shiver with understanding, the golden wave rolled -forward to engulf them. Once again the jeep glided past astonished, -troubled faces that smiled in spite of themselves. As the jeep rolled -out into the cool, shadowy dawn, Phil stroked Lucky's soft, springy fur -and murmured, "Little peace maker. You even gentled the FBL." - -Lucky looked up at him coquettishly and then yawned tremendously and -curled up on Phil's lap. The feeling of golden harmony subsided until -only a ghost of it lingered. - -"I know," Phil said, "you're tired from so much peace making." He -suddenly felt extremely tired himself, yet he went on to say, in -slurred syllables, "Lucky, I don't care whether you come from Egypt, -Russia, or the jungles of the Amazon--you're good for the USA." - - - - - XIII - - -The jeep steadily turned corners, putting block after block of -the empty, early morning, upper-level streets between it and Fun -Incorporated. Phil wondered whether it could be traced by the electric -eyes that were said to be at each intersection, but he forgot the -question before it became a worry. Lucky was a plump green doughnut -on his lap. He felt over-poweringly sleepy and wished he could gently -slide into some universe lacking light, sound and gravity. - -But before drifting off he glanced at Mitzie. Her face was set in -hard, proud, sneering lines, although two tears were jiggling down her -cheeks. Phil felt more annoyed than surprised or compassionate. No -one, he told himself, had the right to indulge such a mood in Lucky's -presence. - -He decided that Mitzie needed to have certain truths rubbed in gently. -"Our escape is nothing to puff ourselves up over," he said softly. -"Lucky did it all. Though I admired your bravery dodging the jeep." - -Mitzie didn't look at him, but she thinned her lips. - -"The episode of the jeep was instructive," Phil went on, beginning to -twist the angelic knife just a little. "It showed you exactly what sort -of glorious criminal fellowship you had with those three hep-thugs. But -now," he went on, tempering justice with mercy, "you've discovered that -your romantic worship of evil isn't worth a fingersnap in the face of -true love and understanding. Eh, Mitzie?" - -Mitzie let the car jog listlessly to a stop. Phil was dimly aware -that they were parking in a bumpy, blind end driveway in a neglected, -shrubby square with tall buildings set around. He leaned back, smiling -drowsily, his fingers playing with Lucky's springy fur. He was waiting -complacently for Mitzie's sobs. - -Instead, the seat jounced and the door of the jeep slammed. - -He looked around. Mitzie was standing outside the jeep against a -shadowy background of tangled shrubbery and misty, silent skyscrapers. - -Suddenly she leaned forward toward him, bracing herself against the -door with stiff arms. She inhaled gustily and her small, tender breasts -lifted in their black satin half cups. - -Now, he told himself, it must happen. She must yield, sobbing, to -Lucky's power. - -"I hate you, Phil," she said intensely. "You want to see me turn to -jelly." New tears spurted from the inside corners of her eyes, but her -expression grew fiercer. "Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck may have tried -to kill me, but at least they gave me a chance to be something. They -allowed me the dignity of being hated. They didn't try to drown me in -slop. - -"I want glory," she went on in a voice that certainly should have -sounded choked except she simply wouldn't permit it. "I want my kind of -glory, no matter how cheap and selfish you think it is, because it's -the only thing that's shining and brave in a shoddy, cowardly world. -I want to spit in the world's eye and then face it, when it comes -bleating for revenge, like I faced this jeep." - -"I did think you were courageous there," Phil temporized, wondering why -the devil Lucky's power, that had softened twenty men at a crack, was -so slow in taking effect on a single misguided girl. - -"Spare me any praise that's a cover for slop," Mitzie said scathingly. -"Oh I know what that Sunday school beast there on your lap can do, -and I know what you want to see happen. I have only one thing that's -titanium in me, all the rest is stinking mush. You want to see that one -thing break. No, worse, you want to see it soften. Well, I'm not going -to let that happen." She stood up and took her hands off the door. - -Suddenly Phil felt a kind of sleepy worry. He ran his hand over Lucky's -fur, then shook him hesitatingly. "Wake up," he said uneasily. - -Lucky merely purred. Or perhaps it was a small snore. - -"Goodbye for good, Phil," Mitzie said, turning away. - -"No, wait," Phil called suddenly, at last hunching groggily forward in -his seat. "Don't go yet." He shook Lucky again, almost roughly. "Wake -up," he demanded. "Stop her." - -The small god hung in his hands like a limp green rag. - -Phil put Lucky down on the seat beside him and started to get out of -the car. But abruptly a wave of deep melancholy washed over him. He -knew that something precious was slipping away from him, but he wasn't -sure it was genuinely precious and he didn't know whether he had the -right to stop it. Besides his god had failed him and he was still -incredibly sleepy. - -So he watched Mitzie slipping away from him as irrevocably as time, and -did nothing except lift Lucky back on his lap. He watched her stride -off along the misty shrubs like a proud and angry nymph, holding her -back straight and her head very high, and also, he supposed, those -charming and ridiculous breasts with which she insisted on facing the -whole world. - -For what seemed a long time he watched the dim, empty corner around -which she had turned. He was frozen in a hypnotic daze that temporarily -served for sleep. Now and then thoughts crossed his mind's dull -expanse, but they were shadowy things and did not linger. Once it -occurred to him that Lucky might have been unable to hold Mitzie -because his earlier exertions had drained his powers; small gods -couldn't be expected to exude several great golden waves without -suffering some slight after effects. - -It occurred to him that at this very moment he must be the object of -furious searches by the Federal Bureau of Loyalty, Fun Incorporated's -natty thugs, Romadka and his jolly friends, perhaps even good old -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck. Yet he felt neither fear nor any -inclination to form a plan. The dim corner he was watching grew -brighter but stayed empty. - -Four feet defined themselves in the doughnut-shaped pressure on his -lap. Lucky stretched, shook himself, looked up at Phil with the -brightest sort of eyes, and said, "Prrrt-prt." - -"You're a fine sort of cat," Phil complained grumpily, his own eyes -feeling anything but bright. "Going to sleep just when I needed you -most." - -Lucky disregarded these criticisms. "Prrrrt-prt," he repeated -peremptorily. - -But now that his hypnotic daze was broken, Phil once again felt -over-poweringly sleepy. "I know that mew," he mumbled muzzily at the -green blur beyond the shimmering fence of his eyelashes. "You're -hungry. Well, I s'pose you deserve a feed after all the wonders you -did. But I haven't got any cranberry sauce right now. I'll get you -something to eat ... later ... on." - -"Prrrt-prt!" Lucky demanded in the outraged tones of an honest workman -who finds himself cheated of his pay. - -But Phil was beyond reach of any appeal. "G'night," he told Lucky in -the kindliest possible way and dropped off. - -He dreamed of things far off and strange and ominous, though misty. -He dreamed of dark fronded forests and small animals screeching. The -screeches grew louder and he fled out of his dream altogether into the -jeep parked in the blind end driveway in the little square. - -For a moment he seemed to see the ghosts of the dark fronded trees and -hear the echo of the dream screeches, but then he realized that the -former were the square's unpruned shrubs, while the latter were the -squeals and cries of schoolgirls scattering out of a building beyond. - -He realized groggily that they must be coming from school--no, from -afternoon school, since the sunlight wasn't slanting at all deeply into -the square, and that he must have slept here undisturbed all day. - -And then, he became aware that his lap and heart were cold and that -Lucky was gone. - - - - - XIV - - -Phil's first impulse was to jump out of the jeep and hunt around. But -the chill in his heart told him Lucky was farther away than that. -Besides, the place was a regular jungle and one man could hunt through -it forever for anything cat-size. - -He did not recognize the square at all, but he guessed from the -schoolgirls that he was in an intellectual residential neighborhood. -At first he thought the school was one for girls, but then he noticed -a few lone boys among the homeward-bound students and decided that -most of the families in this area must be deliberately having as -many girls as possible. When sex-determination had become possible -through centrifuging human sperm to separate the male-producing and -female-producing types, most parents decided to have sons, especially -for their firstborn. They often told themselves they would have -daughters later, but unfortunately small families were the rule. -The resulting over-production of males had led to some ineffectual -state laws forbidding sex-determination, an unsuccessful attempt at -self-regulation by the medical profession, a lot of talk in Congress, -and an almost fanatically determined movement among a class of -thoughtful people to produce only daughters. This last class, besides -seeking to balance the sex ratio, perhaps had in mind the fact or rumor -that human parthenogenesis had been achieved. Phil remembered a Sunday -afternoon video shock talk: _Will Women Born of Virgins Become Our Only -Intellectuals?_ - -Other aspects of the neighborhood around the square fitted with his -guess. There was an appearance of shabbiness, the skyscrapers were low, -advertisements lifeless, traffic was light, there were no hot rods. - -He let his gaze roam over the tiers of tiny flats, wondering where -Lucky might have gone. As he did so, he turned on the jeep's radio. - -"... while Mystery Man Billig, mastermind of Fun Incorporated, is -believed to have fled the country. Tonight at 8:30 New Washington -Time, President Barnes will address all us American folks, partly -to silence the small, syndicate-inspired clamor at the outlawing of -male-female wrestling and jukebox burlesque, but more to explain to -an amazed citizenry the full reasons behind the charges brought this -morning by the federal government against sixty-nine high officials. -I predict--and remember this is just my personal libel-free guess, -fellow-folks--that the president will reveal that Fun Incorporated has -been peddling dream pills, temporary sterility tabs, and I'm as shocked -and disgusted as you are, folks, female robots equipped for obscene -functioning. - -"Now here's an important flash on the cat story. The cats are not -carrying an infection and are under no circumstances to be destroyed, -whether owned, strayed, or alley. In fact, there's a stiff jail -sentence waiting for any person destroying a cat. But all owned cats -are to be brought to the nearest security station, while any person -sighting a strayed or alley cat is directed to do the same. There's a -stiff penalty for not doing the first, a one hundred dollar reward for -doing the second. Get busy, kids! Why this sudden federal interest in -cats? The National Health Service zips its lips. But your newscaster -backs this highly responsible rumor: it has been discovered that a rare -strain of cat carries a cancer destroying virus. Wouldn't it be nice, -folkses, to know that, once full grown, you would never start to grow -again, in any part or place? - -"But remember this, dear audiers, and I'll say it to you in Martian: -Zip-zap-zup! Meaning: Bring in the cats! - -"Now as for this report, folks, that handie-supernova Zelda Zornia, -vacationing in Brazil, did a south-of-the-equator handiecast -advertising bathing jewelry; let me assure you clean living people...." - -Phil cleared his mind, trying to put himself in Lucky's place, to -feel the direction in which the cat had wandered off. His head swung -doubtfully this way and that, like a compass needle or planchette, but -finally came to rest. He climbed out of the jeep and walked straight -ahead, not turning aside for the dusty, crackling shrubs, but pushing -straight through them. - -He parted a final straggly hedge and found himself looking across the -empty street at a house quite as old as the Akeleys, but with free sky -above it. - -Built of ancient brick, it was three stories tall and looked as -pompously respectable as a 19th century banker. It reposed sedately -on a terrace that was as weedily overgrown as the square and that was -surrounded by a high iron fence. - -The only incongruous note was struck by a saucer-shaped object fully -fifty feet across set on a framework atop the flat roof. Judging from -the dull green of its underside, it might be made of copper. It looked -almost as old as the house and quite as proper, as if the 19th century -banker had decided to wear a green beret and dared anyone to notice it. - -Phil crossed the street, mounted some steps and peered through the -iron gate. He made out, beside the house's old-fashioned, knob door, a -tarnished bronze plate which read: "Humberford Foundation." - -He looked back uneasily. Where he figured the jeep to be, he could see -the heads and black-clad shoulders of two men. The black reminded him -unpleasantly of the sports togs worn by Billig and his yes men. They -seemed to be arguing. One of them took a step up, as if he were getting -into the jeep, but the other pulled him back and they hurried off--not -in his direction, Phil noted with some relief. - -He gave the iron gate a little push. It opened with a rusty "Harrumph" -that made Phil shrink apologetically. But nothing else happened so -after a minute he slipped through and began to peer around at the -undergrowth and then to wander through it, softly calling "Lucky!" - -Occasionally he looked back in the direction of the jeep and once he -saw the radio-helmeted heads and blue shoulders of three policemen. -He wondered if the next time he looked he'd see Dr. Romadka, or the -Akeleys, or perhaps Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck, and he shivered to -think of how close he'd come to being caught--by someone. - -But the next shock he got came from something nearer. He had rounded -the house, after having poked through its equally lifeless and -overgrown back yard, when he saw a dark haired man peering at him -through the fence. - -The most disturbing thing about the man was that he closely resembled -the girl Phil had watched undress in the room across from his. The girl -with hoofs. This man had the same vital, faun-like expression. - -Phil froze. But the man merely yawned, turned away, and shuffled off, -humming or hooting a little melody that gave Phil goosepimples because -it reminded him of something in his dream. - -For that matter, the whole experience was becoming very dreamlike to -Phil: the silent house, the neglected garden, the futile searching, -the melancholy memory of Mitzie's leave-taking, the powerful sense of -a dead past. But the feeling that Lucky was near was still strong and -after a bit Phil realized he would have to do something he had been -shrinking from. - -He reluctantly mounted the steps to the front portal, reached for the -knob, and then, to put off the evil moment a little longer, called -"Lucky!" a few times along the shallow porch to either side. - -Someone behind him inquired pleasantly, "Are you looking for a cat?" - -Phil spun around guiltily and found himself facing a very old man as -tall and frail as a ghost, and apparently as silent as one, since Phil -hadn't heard him coming up the walk. His thin, wrinkle-netted face, -crowned by close cropped white hair, was hauntingly familiar. It had -something of the grandeur of a pre-Christian ascetic, yet there was -a note of Puckish humor in it, as if its owner had arrived at a wise -second childhood. Although Phil's heart was pounding at the alarmingly -accurate question, he found himself liking the man at first sight. - -As he hesitated, the old man went on, "My interest, by the way, is -purely academic--or else childish curiosity, which comes to the same -thing." His eyes flashed impishly. "Is it by any chance a green cat?" -he asked Phil rapidly. "No, you don't have to answer that question, at -least not any more than you have already. I don't want to distress you. -It's just that I have a mind that automatically makes the far-fetched -deductions first." - -He beamed at Phil, who, though flustered, found himself grinning. - -"Perhaps you're a journalist," the oldster went on smoothly, "or at -least we can pretend you are. Dr. Garnett always calls in the press -when the Humberford Foundation makes a discovery, though I'm sorry -to say the press stopped coming about twenty years ago. They'd quit -thinking of para-psychology as newsworthy. But perhaps there's been -time to breed a new race of journalists with a revived interest in -esping and all the teles. In any case Garnett and the whole staff will -be overjoyed at the presence of a pressman." - -"You mean the Humberford Foundation investigates extrasensory -perception and things like that?" Phil asked. - -"You should know, since you've been sent here to get a story," the old -man said reprovingly. "Still, reporters often haven't the foggiest idea -what they've been sent out to report, so you're excused." - -Phil found himself grinning again. He hadn't any notion of how the old -man knew about Lucky or where he stood in the general picture, except -that he felt strangely certain that the old man didn't have anything -to do with the organizations out to get Lucky. And the oldster's -mischievous pretense that Phil was a reporter might at least get him -past the imposing door and let him spy around. - -"So the Humberford Foundation has made a new discovery in -para-psychology?" he said conversationally. - -The other nodded. "Dr. Garnett was most excited. So much so that he -didn't have time to tell me what it was all about, except that they'd -started to get some amazing results--and just this morning. So I -hurried over. Good esp is apt to go poof, so it's best to get it when -it's hot. I have a standing order with Garnett to call me over the -moment anything starts to flash. For that matter, I have the same -orders with practically every scientific laboratory in the area--though -the others don't always call me. But--thank Thoth!--Garnett isn't in -a field that's under the benign aegis of security and he isn't at all -security minded himself. In fact, I'm not certain he's ever heard of -the FBL. So you may get a real scoop, Mr...?" - -"Gish. Phil Gish." - -The oldster's thin hand pressed his with a feathery touch. "Morton -Opperly." - -Phil stared at him for several seconds, then gasped, "The--?" - -The other assented with an apologetic shrug. Phil let it sink in. This -was Morton Opperly who had worked on the Manhattan Project, whose name -had appeared beside Einstein's on the Physicists' Covenant, who had -tried unsuccessfully to get himself jailed for refusal to do research -during World War III, who had become a legend. Phil had always vaguely -assumed he'd died years ago. - -He gazed at the renowned physicist in happy awe. The question that rose -effortlessly to his lips was a testimony to Opperly's ability to create -an atmosphere of unlimited free discussion unknown since 1940. - -"Mr. Opperly, what are orthos?" - -"Orthos? That could be short for any number of scientific terms, Phil, -but I bet you mean the ones that shoot. Those are ortho-fissionables. -Trouble with ordinary fissionables--or fissionables under ordinary -circumstances--is that the fragments and neutrons shoot off in -all directions and the critical mass is large. But if you get the -fissionable atoms all lined up with their axis of spin pointing in the -same direction, then they all split in the same place and every neutron -hits the nucleus of the atom next to it. Because of that last fact, -the neutrons are all used up and the critical mass becomes minute. Half -the fragments fly in one direction, half in the other, making it a very -nasty and convenient weapon, except it has to backfire." - -"How do you get the atoms lined up?" Phil asked eagerly. - -"Temperature near absolute zero and an electric field," Opperly said, -touching a button beside the doorway. "Simplest thing in the world. -The new insulators can hold a gun magazine at one degree Kelvin for -weeks, and carry enough fissionable pellets to give rapid fire, with -the effect of a steady beam, for more than a minute. Planning to make -yourself an ortho in your home workshop, Phil? I'm afraid they don't -sell that kit. Everything I've been telling you is top security, death -penalty and all that. But I'm getting so senile I don't understand -security regulations. I'm apt to babble anything. I keep telling Bobbie -T. he'll have to have me orthocuted some day, but like everyone else he -refuses to take me seriously. That's the trick they used on me in WW3 -and they've never forgot it." - -"Bobbie T.?" - -Opperly made another of his apologetic grimaces. "Barnes. President -Robert T. Barnes. We were charter members of the Midwest Starship -Society. Of course he was just a shaver then and now he's a besotted, -scripture quoting fox, but shared dreams have a way of linking people -permanently. I drop in on him now and then and flash my Starship badge. -He's one of my pipelines to what's happening in the world, though the -security services don't tell him too much. That's how I learned about -the green cat." - -Phil was nerving himself to ask Opperly just what he'd learned, when he -heard footsteps behind him. - -The man who looked like a brother of the girl with hoofs was standing -in the gateway. - -Just then the door of the mansion opened, revealing a scholarly -appearing man whose face was twitching with excitement and nervousness. -His coat had two bulging brief case pockets, while his vest was crammed -with enough microbooks to make up a dozen encyclopedias, plus two -micronotebooks with stylus, and a fountain pen besides. His hair was -graying and thin, and he wore ancient pince-nez that twitched with his -nose. - -"Dr. Opperly!" He greeted in a high-pitched voice that expressed both -fluster and delight. "You come at a whirling moment!" - -"That's the way I like them, Hugo," Opperly told him. "Where's Garnett?" - -But the other was looking at Phil, who decided the twitch was -permanent. At the moment its owner was using it to express inquiry and -mild apprehension. - -"Oh," Opperly said casually, "this is Phil Gish of the press." His -eyes twinkled. "Of the U. S. Newsmoon, in fact. Phil, this is Hugo -Frobisher, Ph.Ch.--Chancellor of Philosophy, you know, the new higher -degree. I'm just a lowly Ph.D. myself." - -But Frobisher was beaming at Phil as if he were a donor with a $100,000 -check. "This is most gratifying, Mr. Gish," he breathed. Then he -whipped out a micronotebook and poised on its white field the stylus -whose movements would be reproduced on one ten thousandth of the space -on the tape inside. "The U. S. Newsmoon, you say?" - -At that moment the man at the gate came clumping up behind them. Phil -felt a gust of uneasiness, but the newcomer merely treated them all -to a big, innocent grin that brought out all the handsomeness of his -faun-like face. - -"Me press, too," he announced happily. "Introducing to each you Dion da -Silva. Much delight." - -Frobisher seemed about to melt with gratification, though da Silva's -gaiety was undoubtedly generally contagious. "What paper?" Frobisher -asked. - -Phil noted that Opperly was studying the newcomer intently. The latter -was having trouble with Frobisher's question. - -"Mean what?" he countered, drawing his shaggy eyebrows together in a -frown. - -"_La Prensa_," Opperly supplied suddenly. "Mr. da Silva represents _La -Prensa_." - -"Is so. Thank you," da Silva confirmed. - -Phil could have sworn that Opperly had never seen da Silva before and -that da Silva had never heard of _La Prensa_. - -However, Frobisher seemed to accept the explanation. "Come in, come -in, gentlemen," he urged, fluttering backward. "I'm sure you'll first -want to tour our little establishment and have a peek at all our -projects. Story background, you know." - -"I'm sure they'll want to go straight to Garnett and get the story -itself," Opperly assured him. "Where is Winston anyway, Hugo?" - -"To tell the truth, I haven't the faintest idea of Dr. Garnett's -whereabouts," Frobisher replied with prim satisfaction. "Things have -been popping everywhere since this morning. In every project. We'd have -to tour the Foundation to find him in any case." - -Opperly flashed Phil a look of humorous resignation. Dion da Silva -pressed past Phil, flashing his wide white teeth at everyone and -saying, "Is fine, fine." Phil's spirits rose. He felt certain that he -was getting nearer to Lucky. - - - - - XV - - -Inside, the Humberford Foundation was a gloomy Edwardian mansion to -which had been sketchily grafted a pleasantly disorganized scientific -enterprise. Glassed shelves of leatherbound books that hadn't been -opened for decades were elbowed by trim microfilm files. Blackened -portraits of John Junius Humberford and his ancestors looked down on -machines for shuffling the eternal Rhine cards and on fluorescent -screens-in-depth that blended a dozen recordings of a brain wave made -from different angles into the shadowy semblance of a human thought. -Stately drawing rooms that set one thinking of bustles and teacups -instead held solemn faced, scantily clad girls with electrodes attached -to twenty parts of their bodies. Laboratory technicians in loose smocks -caught their heels in stair carpets a hundred years old. - -But today there was an excitement that pushed the Edwardian half of -the place far into the background and brightened the very grime on -the walls. Chancellor Frobisher and his little train of visitors were -not even noticed. Girls triumphantly calling Rhine cards stared past -them unseeingly. Clairvoyants sketching objects being imagined by -someone else three floors away didn't look up from their blackboards. -A technician darted out with a large syringe and took air samples -under their very noses without seeming to be aware of their presence. -Correlating engines hummed and spat cards. - -Phil was so busy peering about for his green cat that he heard little -of what Frobisher was telling them. - -Occasional high-pitched explanatory phrases floated back to Phil: "... -her 117,318th run through the cards ... telepathic communion with -lower animals ... perhaps some day share the thoughts of an amoeba.... -No, I really don't know where Dr. Garnett is, I'm busy with important -visitors, Miss Ames ... telekinesis will make handies obsolete...." - -Plodding behind da Silva up the stairs to the top floor, Phil started -to listen to Frobisher consecutively. The Chancellor of Philosophy -was saying, "Now in the room I'm about to show you, an experiment in -_complete_ telepathy is underway. When telepathy is perfected, it will -be possible for two individuals to lay their minds side by side and -compare all their thoughts and feelings in the raw, as it were." - -"Is good!" da Silva interjected. - -Frobisher frowned at the interruption before remembering it was a -journalist talking. He went on smilingly, "In this case, however, we -have only a preliminary stage: two individuals, by means of prolonged -speech, writing, sketching, musical expression and so forth, are -attempting to share their inmost thoughts to such an extent that they -will tend to become telepathic, as seems to be the case with some -husbands and wives." As they came to the top of the stairs, Frobisher -continued a bit breathlessly, "Incidentally, the young man in this -experiment is one of our most consistent espers, while the young lady -is a handie bit player who graciously devotes her leisure time to -science." - -He paused with his hand on an ancient brass doorknob. - -"Let's not disturb them, Hugo," Opperly suggested a bit faintly, -leaning against the wall though he showed no other effects of the -climb. "Sounds like rather an intimate experiment." - -Frobisher shook his head. "As I say," he pronounced, "these two -researchists are seeking to lay their minds side by side." - -He opened the door, looked in, gasped, and hastily slammed it--though -not before da Silva, peering over his shoulder, had emitted an -appreciative and rather whinnying chortle. - -"As I say, their _minds_," Frobisher repeated, walking away from the -door a bit unevenly. "Perhaps you're right, Dr. Opperly, we'd best -not disturb them. Research is at times a strenuous affair." He looked -apprehensively at the purported representative of _La Prensa_. "I -trust, Señor da Silva--" - -"Is very good!" da Silva assured him enthusiastically. - -Frobisher looked at him blankly, shook himself a bit and said, briskly, -"It now remains, gentlemen, to give you a glimpse of our crowning -project--the one on the roof. If you'll just precede me up this -circular staircase...." - -"I think I'll stay here, Hugo," Opperly told him. "Touring research can -be strenuous too." - -"But I rather imagine Dr. Garnett must be on the roof." - -"Then bring him down." - -As Phil trudged up the musty cylinder lit by tiny bull's-eye windows, -his feet clanking on worn metal treads, it occurred to him that Lucky -certainly seemed to have been having a field day here, bringing people -together in understanding and love and what not. In fact, it made him -rather jealous the way Lucky was strewing his favors around. - -From behind Chancellor Frobisher's fussy voice filtered up. "I should -preface this ascent by saying that one of J. J. Humberford's chief -motives in establishing the Foundation was the conviction that mankind -will soon destroy itself unless some superior power intervenes. So we -feel bound to apply what little knowledge of esping we have gained -to seeking such intervention. Even if there is only one chance in a -million of contacting a superior power somewhere in the universe, the -stakes are so great that we must not overlook the chance. Incidentally, -gentlemen, please watch out for the next to the last step. There isn't -any." - -Phil, who was just putting his foot on it, caught himself, took a -bigger step, and the next moment was out on the roof. The sodium mirror -that orbited around earth was pouring sunlight down, though hardly -enough to explain the dark glasses Frobisher handed him and da Silva. - -Phil briefly studied the verdigris underside of the saucer topping -most of the roof. He noted the flimsy looking beams supporting it -and frowningly inspected the tiny penthouse under its center. Then -Frobisher was urging him and da Silva up a ladder that led to a small -platform next to the rim of the saucer. - -Reaching the platform, Phil instantly realized the need for the dark -glasses. The interior of the saucer was polished to such a degree that -even the sodium-reflected sunlight flashed from it with a pale brown -blindingness. He clamped his eyes shut and quickly put on the black -specs. - -"As you are aware," Frobisher was saying, "the exact nature of thought -waves is unknown. It may be that they move instantaneously, or at least -at speeds far greater than that of light. We have yet to get a figure -on them, although we have carefully timed thought-casts between here -and Montevideo--but the human or physiological factor confounds us. -They may not be waves at all. On the other hand it is possible that -they are reflected and refracted like ordinary light." - -"Is right," interjected da Silva, a vague blur beside Phil, who hadn't -yet got over the first blinding glimpse of the saucer's interior. - -"You believe so?" Frobisher questioned sharply. - -_La Prensa_'s faun-like representative shrugged his muscular shoulders. -"Just guessing," he said. - -"At any rate," Frobisher continued, "we are working on that latter -supposition here. This copper structure is a parabolic mirror. Thought -waves originating at its focus are concentrated into a beam which is -directed upward into the sky toward any stellar planetary systems which -may happen to lie above." - -"Amazing," da Silva grunted. "Explains everything." - -"What do you mean?" Frobisher asked sharply. - -"Just humble before wonders of science," da Silva told him. - -Frobisher nodded. "You're right," he said. "Who knows but what -the message now being beamed, with its appeal for help from a -war-threatened and deluded humanity, may some day or century be -received by a truly mature and benign race, which will swiftly come to -our aid? By the by, Mr. Gish, watch that railing. It's broken." - -Phil jerked his hand away from the rusted pipe. "Yes," he said to -Frobisher, "but how do these thought waves originate at the focus?" - -"Just look," Frobisher told him. Phil squintingly studied the gleaming -saucer through his dark glasses and it became less of a jumble of -highlights. Projecting from a hole in the center of the bowl was a -brownish-red blob wearing goggles that looked as if they were made of a -darker glass than his own specs. The blob's lips moved and Phil heard a -hauntingly familiar voice saying, of all things, "S-O-S, earth. S-O-S, -earth." - -"Our star esper," Frobisher chortled, "if you'll pardon a pun of which -we're rather fond. To be sure, it's thought waves, not sound waves, -he's originating, but it helps him esp if he says the message at the -same time he thinks of it. He's a bit of an eccentric--a religious -scholar--but that's the case with most of our best people." - -At that moment Phil's vision, buffered by the dark glasses, became -quite clear and he saw that the sweating head at the focus of the -parabolic mirror was that of Sacheverell Akeley. At the same moment -Sacheverell saw Phil and his sun-burned top disappeared from the saucer -as swiftly as a hand puppet jerked below stage. - -"He shouldn't do that," Frobisher said sharply. "There's at least -twenty minutes of his duty remaining. Well, I presume you've seen all -you'll need for your articles, gentlemen, so we'd best go down." - -As Phil's foot touched the roof, Sacheverell Akeley darted up to him, -sweat pouring off his ruddy-bronze forehead. - -"What are you doing here?" Phil asked sharply. "How did you get away -from them--Romadka's friends, I mean." - -"They raced off a couple of hours after Romadka left," Sacheverell -answered quickly. "Got a phone call. Incidentally, Romadka abducted -three of our cats. As for me, I've worked here for ages. The important -point is," he continued in an intense whisper, "that _he's_ here, -isn't he? I mean the Green One. I've never esped like this before, even -at stars." - -But before Phil could answer, Frobisher and da Silva glanced at them -inquisitively. Phil and Sacheverell followed them down the metal -staircase. - -Reaching the top floor they found Opperly deep in conversation with a -man who looked at least half out of this world. He was fat and had a -beard, but his dull eyes seemed to be seeing twice as much as he was -looking at. Sacheverell tugged at Phil's sleeve guardedly. "Garnett's -frightfully espy," he whispered, his lips next to Phil's ear. - -"But Winnie, how do you explain it?" Opperly was saying. "Why all this -success with esping, in practically all your projects, all of a sudden?" - -Garnett frowned. "Well, there is one unusual circumstance. Our lab -technicians claim to have found hormones, or some sort of specialized -protein molecules floating around in the air." - -"What hormones?" Opperly asked quickly. - -"Well," Garnett said, "they have had some difficulty identifying -them." He hesitated. "The hormones seem to show a tremendous -variability--almost chameleon-like." - -Opperly smiled and threw Phil a twinkling gaze. - -"Winnie, do you by any chance know," Opperly said, "whether an odd -animal of some sort appeared at the Foundation early this morning?" - -Phil felt Sacheverell's hand tighten on his biceps. - -Dr. Garnett looked around puzzledly. Then his eyebrows shot up. "Yes," -he said, "Ginny Ames found a green cat, a fashion mutant, I suppose, -wailing at the door early this morning. We don't have much food here, -but she tried it on some elderberry preserves and apparently it liked -it. I believe the creature's still around." - -"Winnie, don't you get any bulletins from Security?" Opperly asked -incredulously. "Or from the FBL?" - -Garnett shook his big head. "Not for the past ten years. Esp's so -unpopular that even the government's forgot us." - -"I see," Opperly said, his eyes glittering with interest. "In that -case you haven't read anything about a mutant creature described as a -green cat, that's believed to have super-human parapsychological powers -and to have caused officials to go over to Russia and do all sorts -of other things described as crazy? The public hasn't been told, but -all the higher echelons--scientists, doctors, psychiatrists--have been -getting bulletins on the subject, demanding that they report anything -they know or have heard about a green cat. Even I've been told a -little." - -"Can you beat it," Garnett said disgustedly, "something involving esp -and they consult everyone but us." Then he turned to Opperly like a man -waking up. "Do you mean to suggest that this creature is responsible -for the esp results we've been getting?" - -Opperly nodded. "I do." - -"But how, why?" - -Opperly shrugged happily. "I don't know. I've merely been making some -of those far-fetched guesses I've warned my young journalist friends -about." And he smiled at Phil and da Silva. - -"Guesses!" Garnett said. "Well, we'll soon find out." And he started -past them toward the front end of the hall, his big feet stirring -dust from the ancient carpet. "We'll have a look at this animal and -see what we think about it. Miss Ames--!" he started to call, and -then suddenly his face went half out of this world again and he -stopped in mid-stride. "She thinks the same," he said so softly and so -astonishedly that even Phil knew he must be esping. "She agrees with -you, Op." The big face seemed to go a little further out of the world. -"In fact, they all do. Practically everybody at the Foundation." The -big face seemed to go out almost all the way, while the voice sank to a -faint murmur. "In fact, you're right." - -The door opened at the front end of the hall and a long nosed young -lady in a lab smock stepped out and nodded gently at Garnett. Her brow -smoothed and her eyes half closed, as if she were esping something to -him, then she seemed to notice that there were visitors around. "Would -you care to see this green animal with your outer eyes?" she asked. - -"We sure would, Ginny," Garnett told her and started forward again. -Phil wanted to burst out with all his information about Lucky, but da -Silva forestalled him. - -"Gentlemen," he said. "Think you understand better I supposed. Sorry -underrate you. Best to tell you now--" - -At that moment Lucky ambled out of the door from which Ginny had -emerged. He strode lazily, like a self-confident green god. The long -nosed girl closed the door behind him. Phil felt his spirits splurge -suddenly, happily, familiarly. - -Akeley squeezed Phil's upper arm. "It is _he_!" - -And almost at the same moment, a voice commanded from behind them, -"Break to either side, everybody." - -Phil obeyed the command and so did all the others. - -Dave Greeley was standing at the head of the stairs. The representative -of the FBL was looking both knowledgeable and competent, though even -more gray haired and anxious than last night. - -He nodded quickly at Opperly, said, "Pardon me, doctor," then leveled -his stun-gun between the ranks of men crowding the wall and punched the -trigger. But his nerves couldn't have been as good as Phil thought they -were, for instead of the green cat collapsing, Miss Ames pitched over -on her face, gasping wonderingly, "My leg--I can't feel it!" - -Greeley grimaced and re-directed his stun-gun, as the dust mushroomed -up from the carpet around Miss Ames. But at the same moment Phil felt -the golden wave billowing out from Lucky. Greeley's face turned red and -his fingers stiffly uncurled from the gun, as if invisible hands were -prying them away, and it dropped to the floor. - -At that moment another voice behind them, languorous and scornful, -said, "Stay where you are, gentlemen. It would be dangerous to move -your hands." - -Dora Pannes stood at the head of the stairs. The violet blonde was -simply dressed in a gray frock, while a large handbag swung carelessly -from her shoulder, but she looked rather more beautiful than last -night. In her slender hand was a great big ortho. - -Phil didn't feel at all frightened, although a vague memory nagged -momentarily at his mind. He knew she couldn't hurt anyone while Lucky -was there. He was more interested in the reactions of the others. - -But with one exception there weren't any reactions. - -The exception was da Silva. He was staring at Dora Pannes with a hungry -adoration. - -Meanwhile the violet blonde was walking forward in a most business-like -way. She didn't even glance at da Silva. As she passed Greeley, her -free hand snatched sidewise like a lizard's tongue for the stun-gun, -snatched again at a larger one inside his coat, dropped them both in -her handbag, and kept going straight for the cat. - -Now she'll begin to feel it, Phil told himself. - -But she kept straight on. Lucky seemed to be studying her casually. -Abruptly he sprang back onto the window sill, his green fur rose, his -muzzle lengthened, and from it came a prolonged, spitting hiss. - -The next moment Phil felt such a formless terror as he had never known -before, as if all reality were about to be crunched in a single fist, -as if the blackness between the stars were lashing down to strangle -him. Dimly across the hall, he saw the waves of white wash along the -ranked faces. He gazed fearfully at Lucky, as if the green cat had -turned into a devil, and saw Dora Pannes coolly stooping to grab him. -The cat started to streak past her, but Dora's hands were faster. Then -the cat sprang straight at her face, claws raking, but Dora calmly -detached him and shoved him in her handbag and shut it and started -back. She looked quite as beautiful and composed as she had at the -stair head. The blood hadn't started to flow from the scratches in her -face. - -As she passed da Silva, he looked up at her groggily. In his expression -there was still the ghost of desire. - -"You jerk," she said to him and walked on and went down the stairs. - -Phil felt his heart hammering ten, eleven, twelve times, like a clock -striking, and then he was racing downstairs and someone was pounding -along after him. - -He caromed off the open front door and stumbled down the steps in time -to see a dark car roar off. Greeley was beside him now, barking orders -into a pocket radio. From the other end of the street, another car shot -in. Red plumes shot forward from under its hood as it rocket-braked to -a heaving stop. Greeley piled into the back seat. Phil scrambled in -after him. - -"You can still see them," Greeley yelled at the driver. "Take all -chances. Rockets!" Then he turned to Phil. "Who are you?" - -"Phil Gish of the U. S. Newsmoon," Phil replied recklessly, but the -last word was lost in the rocket's roar. - -The other car had been about five blocks away when they had taken off. -As Phil untwisted himself with difficulty from the huddle into which -acceleration had thrown him, he saw that its lead had been reduced to -almost one block. - -"Douse the jets," Greeley ordered. "We can curb them on our regulars; -but watch out they don't shift. They may have rockets. Where do you -stand in Project Kitty, Gish?" - -"Sort of special observer," Phil improvised gaspingly, still hanging -on with both hands. "My section has decided the green cat may not be -dangerous." - -"What?" Greeley demanded, peering ahead. - -"Didn't you feel it up there?" Phil asked. - -"Feel what?" Greeley said, his eyes measuring the lessening distance -between the two cars. "You mean the horror?" - -"No," Phil said. "Peace. Understanding--" - -But just then the car ahead of them slowed a bit and something green -flashed out of it, rolled over half a dozen times, and darted toward an -alley. - -"Brakes!" Greeley yelled and Phil almost tumbled into the lap of the -man beside the driver as the forward rockets jetted and the back of the -car lifted and slammed down. Then he realized he was the only one left -in the car and scrambled out. - -"The alley's blind; there's no way for it to get out," Greeley was -calling. "Advance abreast. Gish, back us up!" - -"Don't hurt him," Phil warned. - -"We know enough for that!" Greeley yelled back. - -By this time Phil was behind them, and saw the green cat crouching -defiantly in the narrow alley's blind end, some twenty feet away from -the advancing men. - -The distance lessened to ten, and then the green cat darted forward, -dodged this way, that, and dove between Greeley and the man on his -right, straight into Phil's outstretched hands. - -"Lucky!" Phil said blissfully, lifting the cat closer. - -Five claws raked his chin painfully, while fifteen others dug into his -hands. - -He looked at the little face. Except for its color, it was a most -ordinary, though spittingly furious cat face. In fact, it was a most -ordinary cat. - -And he could smell the dye. - -"Here," he said calmly and handed the animal to Greeley. - -"Lucky?" Greeley yelled as the claws sank into his hands. "It's a -dye-job, or I'll eat it! They had it all ready and threw it out to -misdirect us. Come on! Here, take it, Simms, we've got to keep it to be -on the safe side." - -And presumably a third man's hands got clawed as they sprinted to the -car. - -But Phil was not with them. He hadn't the heart. As the rockets roared -again, he simply stood halfway down the alley, scratched and weary. - - - - - XVI - - -As the elevator door closed behind Phil and he started the weary climb -from twenty-eight to twenty-nine, he was already tormenting himself for -having turned down Phoebe Filmer's invitation to have a drink in her -room. When she had accosted him in the lobby, babbling about how he had -rescued her at the Tan Jet, he had felt the last thing he wanted to be -with was a human being. But now, with nothing separating him from the -loneliness of his room but an echoing flight of stairs and an empty -corridor, he suddenly realized that he needed human companionship above -everything. - -He remembered how boldly he had set forth just yesterday afternoon -from his room to look at life and plunge into any adventure that came -along. And as it happened he had seen so shockingly much of life and -been buffeted by such vast oceans of adventure, that his brain still -buzzed from it. At times during those incredible twenty-four hours, it -had seemed to him that his whole character was changing, that he was -becoming the daring yet sympathetic adventurer and lover he had always -dreamed of being. - -Yet here he was, dragging himself miserably back to his room, having -just pulled his usual craven trick of saying "No," when he desperately -wanted, at least ten seconds later, to say "Yes." Why, from the speed -with which he was falling back into his old habit patterns, he'd -probably spend the evening spying on Miss Filmer from his darkened -window. - -Oh, he could tell himself there was no reason to give a second thought -to an ordinary pretty woman when he'd just met such a wickedly -desirable girl as Mitzie Romadka and seen such a beauty as Dora -Pannes, not to mention sharing the society of such grotesque but -attractive characters as Juno Jones and Mary Akeley. But that was just -rationalization and he knew it. Phoebe Filmer was more his size, and he -wasn't even big enough for her. - -Or he could once more tell himself that if only Lucky were at his side, -he would be brave and bold again. But even that was no longer quite -true. Fact was, that everything had become much too big for him. He -wanted the green cat, yes, but he wanted him as his own special pet, -his mascot, his good luck cat, something to sleep at the foot of the -bed--not as a mysterious mutant monster that kept getting him involved -with male and female wrestlers, religious crackpots, gun-toting -psychoanalysts, girls with claws, hep-thugs, world-famous scientists, -espers, vice syndicates, FBL raids, national and international crimes, -and a whole lot of other things that were much, much too big for Phil -Gish. - -He coded open his door, stepped inside, and had almost closed it behind -him when he realized that he was not returning to loneliness. - -On her hands and knees, apparently to look under his bed, but now with -her face turned sharply towards him, was the black haired, faun-like -girl whose window was opposite his. He froze in every muscle, his hand -locked to the barely ajar door, ready to jerk it open and run. - -She got up slowly, with a smile. "'Allo," she greeted in a warm voice -with a foreign accent he couldn't place. "I have lost something and I -think maybe he hide in here." She smoothed out the black pied gray suit -he'd watched her take off last night. Then she leisurely ran her hand -back across her head and down the pony tail in which her hair-do ended. - -"Something?" Phil croaked gallantly, his hand still glued fast behind -him. He couldn't help it, but every time he looked her in the eye his -gaze had to travel fearfully down her figure to her 10-inch platform -shoes. - -"Yes," she confirmed, "a--how you call him?--pussycat." Then, after a -bit, "Say, you act like you know me." Her smile widened and she shook a -finger at him. "'Ave you been peek at me, you naughty boy?" - -Phil gulped and said nothing, yet that remark did a great deal to -humanize her for him. Hallucinations don't make one blush. - -"Thas all right," she reassured him. "Windows across, why not? Same -thing--windows across and both open a little--make me think maybe my -pussycat jump over here. So I step across to see." - -"Step across?" Phil demanded a bit hysterically, his gaze once more -shooting to her legs. - -"Sure," she said smilingly and indicated the window. "Take a look." - -With considerable reluctance, Phil unstuck his hand from the door and -gingerly walked to the open window. Spanning the ten feet between it -and the one opposite, was a flimsy looking telescope ladder of some -gray metal. - -Phil turned around. "Is it a green cat?" he asked reluctantly. - -Her face brightened. "So he did jump across." - -Phil nodded. "What's more," he went on rapidly, "I think I met your -brother today, a journalist named Dion da Silva, representing the -newspaper _La Prensa_." - -She nodded eagerly at the first proper name. "Thas right," she said. "I -am Dytie da Silva." - -"And I am Phil Gish. Did you say Dytie?" - -"Sure. Short for Aphrodite, goddess of love. You like? Please, where my -brother and pussycat now?" - -"I haven't the faintest idea," Phil said sadly. - -She shrugged as if she expected to hear just that. "Is nothing new. We -are crazy people, always get lost each other." - -"Then you do come from Argentina?" Phil asked doubtfully. Her accent -didn't sound Spanish, but his acquaintance with Spanish accents was -limited. - -"Sure," she confirmed carelessly, her thoughts apparently elsewhere. -"Far, far country." - -"Tell me, Miss da Silva," he went on, "does your cat have peculiar -powers over people?" - -She frowned at him. "Peculiar powers?" she repeated slowly as if -testing each syllable. "Don understand." - -"I mean," Phil explained patiently, "can he make people happy around -him?" - -The frown smoothed. "Sure. Nice little pussycat, make people happy. You -like animals, Phil?" - -Once again he couldn't keep his gaze from flickering to her legs, but -on the whole he was feeling remarkably bucked up. - -"Miss da Silva," he said, "I've got a lot more questions to ask you, -but unfortunately I don't know Spanish and I don't think you understand -English well enough to answer the questions if I put them to you cold. -But maybe if I tell you just what's been happening to me, you'll be -able to; at least, I hope so. Sit down Miss da Silva; it's a long, long -story." - -"Is very good idea," she agreed, sinking down on the bed. "But please -call Dytie, Phil." - -She makes one feel at ease, Phil thought as he placed himself in the -foam chair opposite. "Well, Dytie, it began ..." and for the next hour -he told her in some detail the story of what had happened to him ever -since he had awakened to see Lucky sitting on the window sill. He -suppressed entirely, however, the incident of watching her last night, -which made it necessary for him also to condense the account of his -session with Dr. Romadka. Dytie frequently interrupted him to ask for -explanations, some of them exceedingly obvious things, such as what -was a hatpin, and what was the Federal Bureau of Loyalty and what was -it that male and female wrestlers tried to do to each other in the -ring? On the other hand, she sometimes passed up things he expected -to puzzle her, though he couldn't always tell whether this was because -she really understood them, or because she didn't want to. Orthos -interested her not at all, stun-guns, mightily. Lucky's exploits did -not seem to startle her much. Her usual comment was along these lines: -"That pussycat. Is so stupid. But Lucky, too. Thas good name you give -him, Phil." - -When he came to the Humberford Foundation and Dytie's brother, she -rolled over on her stomach and listened with closer attention. But -when he hesitantly mentioned how Dion had seemed to develop such an -instant yen for Dora Pannes, she whooped knowingly. "That brother," she -chortled. "He chase anything with two legs and milk glands. 'Cept of -course when he pregnant." - -"What!" - -"Say something? Must got wrong word," Dytie interposed quickly, -brushing the matter aside. - -But she was very much interested in Morton Opperly and insisted on Phil -telling her a great deal about the famous scientist. - -"He smart man," she said with conviction. "Very much like meet." - -"I'll try to manage it sometime," Phil said and told how the green cat -had been captured by Dora Pannes. - -Dytie shook her head solemnly. "Some people got very hard hearts," she -said. "Don like pussycat all." - -Phil quickly rounded off his story with an account of how the fake -green cat in the alley had scratched him. - -Dytie got up and came over and touched his hands tenderly. "Poor Phil," -she said, then summarized: "So we know who have pussycat, but not -where?" - -"That's right," Phil said quickly, "and that where is a tough one, -because Billig's hiding from the FBL." And he got up rapidly, trying -not to make it obvious that he wanted to put a few feet between them. -Dytie's fingers were soft and gentle enough, but there was something -about her touch and her close presence that set him shivering. -Conceivably, it was her odor, which wasn't strong or even unpleasant, -just completely unfamiliar. She looked after him rather wistfully, but -did not try to follow. He faced her across the room. - -"Well, that's my story, Dytie," he said a bit breathlessly. "And now I -want to ask my questions. Just what kind of a cat have you got, that -Fun Incorporated could hope to bribe the federal government with it? Is -it a mutant with telepathic powers and able to control emotions? Is it -a throwback, or maybe deliberately bred back to an otherwise extinct -animal? Is it some cockeyed triumph of Soviet genetics, working along -lines our scientists don't accept? Damn it, is it even some sort of -Egyptian god, like Sacheverell thinks? It's your turn to talk, Dytie." - -But instead of answering him, she merely smiled and said, "'Scuse me, -Phil, but that long story yours really long. Be right back." - -He expected her to walk out the window and wondered what he'd do. But -she merely went into the bathroom and shut the door. - -He paced around, unbearably keyed up, lifting small objects and putting -them down again. Nervously he turned on the radio, sight and sound, -though he didn't look at it and didn't understand a word of what the -inane sports gossipist was loudly yapping about the feats, follies and -frivolities of the muscle stars. Then on his next circuit of the room, -he happened to tread hard as he passed the radio, and something went -wrong with it, so that the sound sank to a very low mumble and he was -once more alone in his agitation. - -So much so that he jumped when he heard a small noise behind him. - -The hall door had opened. Mitzie Romadka was standing just outside, -looking both adolescent and weary in faded blue sweater and slacks. A -lock of her long, dark hair trailed in front of her ear. She fixed on -Phil an unhappy, defiant stare. - -"Last night I said 'Goodbye forever' and I meant it," she began -abruptly. "So don't get any ideas. I've come here to warn you about -something." Her voice broke a little. "Oh, it's all such an awful -mess." She bit her lip and recovered herself. "It isn't just that -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck hate me, or that you tried to make me -get mushy and humble. When I came home by the service chute early this -morning, I overheard my father talking with two other men. I listened -and found out that he's a Soviet agent and that his job now is to get -the green cat no matter how much killing it takes. And he thinks you -have it." - -Phil looked at her and the hours between were gone and he was back in -the little tangled square at dawn and Mitzie was about to leave him, -and all his snapping nervous tension flowed in a new and steadier -channel. - -"Darling," he said softly and carefully, as if a sudden noise might -make her vanish, "Mitzie darling, I wasn't trying to humble you." - -"Oh?" she said, tucking the lock of hair back of her ear. - -He moved toward her very slowly. "Actually I was just being conceited -and I was jealous--both of you and your boy friends." - -"Be very careful what you say, Phil," she whispered fearfully. "Be very -honest." - -"All right then," he said, "I was trying to humble you; I was doing my -best to. I was full of the sort of vanity and condescension that comes -from understanding too much. I didn't know that your kind of defiance -and glory has a place in the world. Mitzie, I love you." - -He put his arms around her and she didn't vanish. The feeling of her -body against his wasn't like anything he'd imagined. It was simply slim -and quite trusting and terribly tired. - -Then her chin lifted from his shoulder and he was shoved back about six -feet. - -Mitzie was glaring at and beyond him. He was relieved that she didn't -seem to have a gun, or knife, or claws, or anything like that. - -He looked around. Dytie da Silva, leaning against the bathroom door, -was watching them quizzically. "'Allo," she greeted them cheerfully, -then asked Phil, "Girl friend?" - -Mitzie turned pale. "How many do you try to take on at once?" she spat -at Phil. - -"Don worry," Dytie advised relaxedly. "He very timid at first." - -"Oh!" Mitzie exclaimed loudly, and stamped on the floor with both feet -at once. - -The radio came on loud again. "... long been known that she and her -husband weren't on sleeping terms. But ironically her fans had to wait -until what, with the outlawing of male-female wrestling, was probably -her last professional appearance, before getting a glimpse of her new -boy friend." - -In the middle of the bright screen was Phil, with a dazed look and a -silly smile on his face. Juno's arm was clutched around him and she was -shouting "... even I gotta have a love life! And don't you be insulting -it!" - -"Oh!" Mitzie shouted, crashed the palm of her hand against Phil's left -cheek, ran out the door and slammed it behind her. Phil stood there a -few seconds. Then he turned off the radio and wiped the tears out of -his left eye. - -"Why you no chase?" Dytie inquired pleasantly. "Don worry, Phil, she -come back. She really love you all more. She proud you such virile man, -have many girls." - -"Please," Phil groaned, lifting his hand. "That was good-bye forever." - -"Forever is never. She come back," Dytie said. - -And just then there was a timid knock at the door. Phil opened it, -wondering whether he should slap Mitzie right away or wait. Dr. Anton -Romadka pointed significantly at Phil's neck with a stun-gun and walked -in. - -The small psychoanalyst looked nattily professional in the -old-fashioned business suit, white shirt and necktie affected by some -doctors. There was even a vest buttoned over his little paunch. His -left cheek was as smooth as his gleaming bald head; evidently he'd -covered the scratches with skin film. His expression radiated fatherly -good will and reasonableness, though he kept the stun-gun pointed -straight at Phil and every now and then his gaze flickered to Dytie. - -"Phil," he began, "I shall not deny the statement my daughter just -made about me, for if you will only consider carefully, it will -make us allies and comrades. Who could know as well as you, Phil, -how hideously psychotic American civilization has become? You've -personally experienced what it can do to the brain, the body, the -sense organs. And who could appreciate as well as you, Phil, the -sanity of the Workers' Republics, where under the first firm rule of -Marxist fact and absolute science, all psychosis is impossible--because -all irrationalisms, all illusion (including the mad vaporings of a -gangrened capitalism and its pseudo-science) are inconceivable." - -Phil found himself goggling his eyes and vaguely nodding. He shook -himself. Romadka's cheery voice was remarkably hypnotic. - -"Of course, I should have realized all this last night, Phil, and -appealed to your reason," said Romadka as he kept the stun-gun -trained on Phil's neck with geometric precision. "But I was hurried -and emotionally upset--even our agents are not wholly immune to the -American infection when living with it--and I made several mistakes. -Among other things I did not take my unfortunate daughter into account -early enough, though I am certainly glad she came to warn you, since it -enabled me to locate you. Which in turn will enable you, Phil, and your -charming companion, to enjoy the bracing sanity of the Soviets." - -The small psychiatrist smiled and carefully propped himself on the -arm of the foam chair. His voice became genially confidential. "And -now, children," he said, for the first time including Dytie in his -nod, "I am going to tell you how you can do a great service to the -illusion-immune state and win an undying welcome when you reach its -realistic shores. Psychotic capitalism, faced by total defeat in the -next war, has loosed against the Workers' Republics a final filthy -weapon: its own collective madnesses and herd delusions, catalyzed by -subtle electronic and chemical bombardments of the collective Soviet -nerve tissue. To date this capitalist poison in the Soviet Pan-Union -has largely taken the form of delusions involving green cats. Don't -mistake me, these green cats are undoubtedly real. It is my firm belief -that they are ordinary cats with tiny electronic senders surgeried -into their bodies, and with hormone spraying capacities comparable in -their vileness to those of skunks. Although the green cats are possibly -not the most important element in the assault on the Soviet psyche, -they are the main stage props in that assault. Unfortunately, we have -not been able to lay our hands on one of these creatures, in order -to confirm our deductions and shape proper counter measures. It is -absolutely essential that we do so." - -"But there's only one green cat," Phil objected, genuinely puzzled, -"and it's supposed to be attacking America. It isn't, of course." - -"I'll say it isn't. My boy, I am giving you the Marxist facts," Romadka -assured him gravely. "Those stories you have heard are merely blinds -put out by the capitalist government to conceal from its own work -slaves and pseudo scientists the enormity of its actions. What has -happened is that a green cat has escaped from a government laboratory -here. You led me to that cat once, Phil. You can do it again." - -"I can't," Phil said mildly. - -"Phil, you can," Romadka assured him. - -"But you got him once," Phil objected, "and all you did was let him go -again." - -For the first time a shadow of impatience darkened Romadka's geniality. -"I told you I made some mistakes last night. I let someone get a -hypo-beam on me, probably a drug spray too. For a time I wasn't -responsible for my actions. It was all I could do to escape the FBL -raid. But it won't happen again." His voice grew brisk. "So come on -along with me, Phil, and bring your friend. There's no more time for -discussion." - -"But--" Phil began. - -Dytie da Silva stepped into the foreground. "Me no go," she told -Romadka. "Why should I? You sound crazy head. 'Lusion-'mune state? -'Rationalisms impossible? Abs'lute science? All nonsense!" - -The psychoanalyst lifted his eyebrows at her accent and sentiments. "I -was just about to take up your case, young lady. Why are you here in -the first place?" - -"Just come from room across," Dytie told him, jerking a thumb at the -window. - -Romadka studied her through narrowed eyes behind which memory seemed to -be at work. Suddenly he smiled thinly. "The description tallies," he -said. "You're the young woman Mr. Gish watched undressing last night, -and onto whom he grafted a remarkable delusion." - -"Phil, you never tell me about that," Dytie said, looking at him -brightly. - -"Naturally he wouldn't," Romadka said, a bit primly. - -"Why not?" Dytie demanded. "I don care. If he like, okay." - -Romadka looked at her contemptuously. "A common exhibitionist, I see. -Nymphomania too." - -Dytie planted her hands on her hips. "Look, I no say long words good. -But your diagnose wrong there. Not nym'omania--satyr'asis. I show you." -And then and there she started to peel off a stocking. Phil watched in -fascinated horror. - -Romadka stood up angrily. "Of all the--" he began. "If you think that -some crude appeal to my sexual urges--" - -But at that moment Dytie pulled off her shoe and foot, and held out -her dainty black hoof, fur-tufted fetlock and slim pastern for his -inspection. "Okay, 'lusion-'mune," she said grimly. "Take good look. -Satyr'asis!" - -Dr. Romadka's knees shook. His face was gray. His eyes bulged. - -Without warning, Dytie stooped, spun around, and let go with a very -accurate kick. The stun-gun shot out of Romadka's trembling hand and -clattered against the wall beyond. Romadka snatched his hand away as if -the hoof were hell, and stumbled frantically out of the room. The sound -of his rapid, uneven footsteps slowly faded out. Phil knew just how he -felt. It was all he could do not to follow him. - -Dytie began to laugh uproariously. While doing so, she hobbled over to -the door, shut it and then picked up Romadka's gun. - -"This stun-gun?" she asked Phil. - -Phil wet his lips and clutched at the table for support. He knew he -must be quite as pale as Romadka. "Dytie," he finally managed to say, -his teeth chattering, "you come from a country a lot farther away than -Argentina." - -She smiled apologetically. "Thas right, Phil. I got longer story yours -tell." - -Phil nodded shakily. "But first, if you please ..." he faltered, and -pointed at the shoe, foot and crumpled stocking she'd dropped on the -floor. - -"Sure, Phil. I un'erstand." She picked them up and sat down on the edge -of the bed to put them on. Phil followed her movements unwillingly, but -when it came to the point where she was about to thrust her hoof into -the deep well in the false foot and the platform he flinched and looked -away. - -Meanwhile she was saying matter-of-factly, "You no tell 'lusion-'mune -man, but you got idea where pussycat is?" - -"No," he replied nervously, "but I know where I might be able to find -out." - -"Is in this city?" - -"Yes." - -"You take me there, Phil?" - -"I guess so." - -"Don you want find pussycat too, Phil?" - -"Yes, I think I do." - -"Okay, thas fine. You can look now." - -He forced himself to steal a glance at her, then let out a sigh of -relief. Her two legs were once more just like any other girl's. -Illusion, he decided, was at times the Bread of Life. - -"And now," he said, "you can answer those questions of mine." - -But just then there was more rapping at the door. - -"This time girl friend," Dytie told him optimistically. - -But Phil was taking no more chances. He switched on the one-way -peephole first, and looked straight into the face of Dave Greeley. - -When Phil whispered "Federal Bureau of Loyalty," to Dytie, she jumped -up. During his long narrative she had asked him several questions -about that organization, he had answered them in detail, and she had -apparently formed some very definite conclusions. "We got beat it, -Phil. No time question-answer now." And she lightly sprang to the -window sill and walked across the ladder. - -It wasn't as long as the beam at the Akeleys', but it was ten times -as high and Phil wasn't drunk. If he hadn't crossed the beam at the -Akeley's and gone down the service chute at the Romadkas', he would -never have dared it. His heart was hammering as he let himself down -into Dytie's room. He turned around with some vague idea of removing -the ladder. He heard a crash in his room. Dytie grabbed him. - -"No time now," she said. And she urged him out of her room into the -corridor. - -Seconds later they were entering the elevator on her side of the -building. "Hey, that's the up button," he warned as she punched it. - -"I know, Phil," she said reassuringly. - -Emerging on the roof, Phil felt for a moment a big sense of freedom. -The sodium mirror had not quite set, and everything around was bright -although the lower part of the sky was dark and many stars showed in it. - -Then he saw the half dozen copters swinging in low toward them like -june bugs. - -Dytie was hustling him along, but only toward an empty corner of the -roof. He resented her pointless display of energy. A mighty voice from -the sky commanded them to stop. - -Dytie halted almost at the edge of the roof, felt around in the air, -climbed a couple of feet up into it and felt around again. - -There was the sound of a copter scraping, bouncing and grounding behind -them. - -Dytie opened in the air a small doorway that was black as ink, and -climbed inside. She turned around, her face a pale mask in an inky -rectangle, urged, "Come on, Phil," and stretched a white arm out of the -rectangle down toward him. - -Phil stared at this weird air-framed portrait. Beneath it he could -clearly see the sheer walls of the building opposite and the dizzying -ribbon of street fifty floors below. - -Behind him men shouted and there was another shattering command from -the sky. - -Phil grabbed Dytie's wrist. His other hand, fumbling blindly, found an -invisible rung in the air. So did his foot. He scrambled up the air and -pitched over the sill of the inky doorway, into an inky sack and found -a curving floor under him. Rolling over, he saw behind him a rectangle -of the sky with three stars in it. The rectangle narrowed and vanished, -and there was no light at all. - -Then he started to fall. - - - - - XVII - - -Phil struck out wildly, with the instinctive hope that a man falling to -his death could warp space to his advantage if he tensed his muscles -sufficiently. - -Then he wondered how long it would take a man to fall fifty floors, but -the mathematics were beyond anything he could do quickly enough in his -head. - -Then he asked himself why the inky sack was falling with him. - -Then he retched, but brought up only the ghosts of a yeast-spread -sandwich and a glass of soybean milk consumed a day ago. - -He continued to fall. - -Soft light sprang up around him. He was inside a sphere some eight feet -in diameter and his feet were near the center, while his cheek gently -brushed the sphere's soft lining. Swiveling his gaze past his feet, he -noticed Dytie da Silva sprawled negligently in the air and intently -studying a screen set in the lining of the sphere. - -But he was still falling. - -Phil knew little enough about space ships, but he knew they couldn't -safely go into free-fall without accelerating first to get some kind of -edge on earth's gravitational field. - -But there had been no acceleration. - -"Dytie!" he yelled, and in the confined space the noise was deafening. -"What's happening to me?" - -Wincing a bit, she looked around at him. "Shh, Phil. You in free-fall -but not falling. I turn off grav'ty." - -Still retching, Phil tried to comprehend that idea. "Turn off gravity?" -He was still falling, but no longer so sure he was going to hit -anything. - -Dytie looked along his helplessly sprawled body at his face. "Sure, -Phil. Grav'ty go round this little boat just like light do. Grav'ty no -pull it, light no show it." - -"That's why it was invisible?" - -"Vis'ble? Nobody see it. Wait bit, Phil, got do things." - -"But in a ship like this you could travel--" Phil began, his mind -suddenly full of dizzying speculations. - -"This not ship, Phil, just dinghy. No talk now." - -Phil's falling acquired a direction. He found himself drifting gently -toward Dytie. "Here 'side me, Phil," she instructed. A few moments -later he was comfortably stretched out on his stomach beside Dytie, his -head poised like hers above the screen. - -And then the speed of his new directed fall increased, although the -sphere was no longer falling with him, until his body was comfortably -pressed against the soft lining. He deduced after a while that they -must be accelerating, although he got his chief clue from the screen. - -At first he couldn't interpret the picture on the screen. It was in -shades of violet and showed a few large squares and oblongs with dark -ribbons between most of them. On the central square were a number of -dots, which slowly moved as he watched them--also three or four crosses -with blobs at their centers. Gradually the squares and rectangles -shrank, while more of the same came onto the screen from the edges. He -realized that he was looking down at the city and that the dots, which -he could hardly distinguish any more, were the men hunting them, while -the crosses were the copters. - -For a bit his stomach chilled at the thought of being poised so high -above the city and going higher. But then he began to lose himself -in the wonder of the picture. Phil hadn't traveled a great deal by -air and had seen even less when he'd done so, and the growing picture -of the city was enthralling. He began to feel rather like a god and -to speculate how he'd mete out justice to mankind if he owned this -mysterious little dinghy. Visions of sudden descents on dictators -danced in his head. - -"We soon high 'nough, Phil," she said. "Hold on hands, stick feet under -bar." - -He obeyed her instructions, taking hold of two handles and thrusting -his legs under a large padded bar. A moment later he knew the reason, -for he began to be pulled away from the screen and had to hold on -tight. He deduced that they were decelerating. After a bit this -stopped too and he was once more "in free-fall but not falling." -Meanwhile, the picture in the screen had become one of the whole -city--a checkerboard of tiny squares not unlike a map. - -Dytie produced and unfolded an ordinary street map and flattened it out -beside the screen. - -"You say you know where find out pussycat is. You say in city. Show -Dytie." - -Phil forced his mind to tackle this problem. His first realization was -just how flimsy the hope was on which he'd based his statement to Dytie -that he might be able to locate the green cat. It depended on Billig -having the green cat, on Jack Jones knowing where Billig had hidden -from the FBL, and on Jack being in hiding himself at the Akeleys'. -Still, it was the only way he knew of getting a line on Lucky. - -And then it occurred to him that he didn't know where the Akeley house -was located. But a sudden memory of a huge show window full of marching -mannequins came to his rescue. The Akeley house was next to Monstro -Multi-Products, and everybody knew the address of that vast department -store. He located it for Dytie on the street map and then on the -screen. Soon they were accelerating downward, so that he had to cling -to the handles again, while the squares on the screen were growing -larger, with the large square that was Monstro Multi-Products moving -toward the center. - -He started to ask Dytie to answer the questions he'd put to her in his -room, but she cut him off with, "Like say, very long story. No time -now. First find pussycat. Very 'portant." - -The rectangle representing the roof of Monstro Multi-Products now -filled quite a bit of the screen, and the streets beside it were broad -ribbons. Their descent slowed. Dytie maneuvered the dinghy around the -department store until Phil spotted, at the base of the building next -to it, the tiny slot indicating the cubical pocket of space in which -the Akeley house stood, robbed of its air-rights. - -As they dropped slowly into the canyon of the street past windowed and -windowless walls, Phil felt a witchery in the violet version of the -city. He could make out beetles and tinier bugs--cars and people. - -Soon they were hovering only ten feet above the violet sidewalk and the -unsuspecting pedestrians. - -Then Dytie slipped the dinghy between the rail of the sidewalk and the -"floor" of the tall building over the Akeley house. The violet picture -grew quite dark. They descended a little farther, past the top-level -street and the one next below it until they were a couple of feet above -the pile of bricks from the fallen chimney. Dytie moved some controls. -The screen went blank, the lights went out, and with breath-taking -suddenness Phil's body crunched into the soft lining as normal weight -returned. - -"Got legs down for dinghy to stand on," Dytie told him. "Quiet now, -Phil." - -A slit of lesser darkness appeared beyond Dytie and widened to a -rectangle through which, after a bit, he could make out a section of -the Akeley porch. Then the rectangle was obstructed as Dytie climbed -out through it. Phil followed her, feet first, moving them around until -they found the rungs, and carefully climbed down until he could step -off onto the Akeleys' gritty front yard. Then he looked up. As far as -he could see there was absolutely nothing above him except the two -upper-level streets and the dull black "ceiling" above the house. Not -only did light "go around" the dinghy, but it did so without getting -shuffled. - -"All safe," Dytie assured him. "Nobody climb over rocks, bump in ladder -legs. This place, Phil?" - -The Akeley house looked more ancient and dangerously dilapidated than -ever, canted forward at least a foot after the chimney's collapse. A -gaping wound had been left in the two upper stories and nothing had -been done to bandage it. However, a little light glowed through the -shutters of the living-room windows. - -Stepping gingerly, with an eye cocked on the ominously slanting wall, -Phil led Dytie up onto the porch and around the corner of it. He -hesitated for a moment in front of the old door with the tiny cat door -cut in the bottom of it, then lifted his hand to the cat-headed knocker -and banged it twice. After a while there were footsteps, the old style -peephole was opened, and this time Phil immediately recognized the -watery gray eye as Sacheverell's. - -"Greetings, Phil," the latter said. "Who's that with you?" - -"A young lady named Dytie da Silva." - -Sacheverell opened the door. "Come right in. Fate must be at work. Her -brother's here." - - - - - XVIII - - -The Akeley living room was as crazily cluttered as when Phil last saw -it. No one had done much, if any, cleaning up after the fight. In -addition, there were a large number of dirty plates, cups and glasses -abandoned in odd places. Judging by the remnants of food and drink in -them, three informal meals had been consumed since last night, not -counting snacks. - -The black velvet curtains at the far end of the room had been pulled -aside, revealing the altar Sacheverell had prepared for Lucky in what -had been the dining room a century ago. It consisted of a small table -or box set against the far wall and covered with reddish-brown velvet -that trailed to the floor in graceful folds. Fastened to the wall above -it was an ancient ankh or crux ansata, the Egyptian cross with looped -top, symbolizing procreation and life. On lower tables to either side -were large unlit candles and statuettes of many of the Egyptian gods: -queenly Isis, whip-wielding Osiris, jackal-jawed Anubis and cat-headed -Bast herself. - -And there was the same profusion of cats, though they were no longer -peaceful as they'd been when Lucky was in the house. They stalked about -with ears drawn back and fur fluffed fearsomely; they ambushed each -other from behind and under furniture; they snarled and jumped whenever -they met. Those wolfing the bits of food left on plates would lift -their heads every few seconds to hiss warnings. The only one asleep was -impiously curled on Lucky's altar. - -The dark low table inlaid with a silver pentacle had been righted and -placed in the center of the room. On it were glasses and a bottle of -brandy. Beside it sat Juno Jones, still in her dowdy dress with the -ripped sleeves hanging from her meaty arms, but with her flower covered -hat once more jammed down over her cropped blonde hair. She looked -sullen and on the defensive. - -Across the table from her, leaning forward in their chairs, sat Dion -da Silva and Morton Opperly. Both of them stood up as Sacheverell -triumphantly swept Phil and Dytie into the room, saying "Our council of -war--or perhaps I should say muscular peace--is complete!" - -Opperly smiled courteously, seeming completely at home in these wild, -wonderful and crummy surroundings; perhaps a mind hungry for any and -all facts liked a grubby bohemian atmosphere. - -Dion da Silva on the other hand, as soon as he spotted Dytie, put -down the big glass of whiskey he was holding and whooped out three or -four words in a foreign language, then caught himself and changed to, -"'Allo, darling! Great see. 'Allo, 'allo, 'allo." - -By this time he had Dytie in his arms and was hugging her with a -hungriness that struck Phil as distinctly unbrotherly. She wasn't being -any too sisterly about it herself. But finally she pushed him away with -a gasp. "Thas 'nough," she told him. "Great see too, dumbhead. 'Bout -time turn up." - -Dion looked hurt for as long as it took him to get his glass of -whiskey. "Know what doing?" he asked his sister excitedly. - -"Yes, get drunk," she told him and whispered to Phil, "Know what Dion -short for? God wine. Pick good name, eh?" - -"No get drunk," Dion asserted with some dignity. Then his excitement -got the better of him again and he burst out with, "We finding -pussycat!" - -There was a giggle that Phil recognized. Looking around, he saw Mary -Akeley sitting in her alcove backed by her shelves of wax dolls and -busy at work sewing clothes for another under a large magnifier. -Sacheverell's witch-nosed young wife had shifted to an almost -off-the-bosom evening dress and tied a huge green bow around her coarse -dark hair. - -"That man, he cuts me up in little pieces every time he says a word," -she gurgled, without pausing in her work. "He's so cute." - -"Thanks, sweetheart," Dion replied, gayly waving his glass at her, "I -cute all over. All full s'prises. Show sometime." - -Dytie suppressed a guffaw and whispered to Phil, "'Member tell you: two -legs, milk glands?" Phil nodded, though he judged that Dion's interest -in Mary didn't nearly come up to his thirsty adoration of Dora Pannes. -The satyr (Phil felt shocked at how glibly the word came into his mind) -was just keeping his hand in. - -Sacheverell ignored the flirtatious interchange. His sun-burned -features gleamed with controlled excitement. "The young lady is Dytie -da Silva, Dion's sister," he told Opperly and Juno. Then he turned to -Phil. "I suppose you're wondering why Dr. Opperly and Señor da Silva -are here. Well, I brought them along with me from the Foundation -because both of them are genuinely interested in _him_, and among the -lot of us I think we have a very good chance of delivering _him_ from -his enemies." - -"What he mean, him?" Dytie asked Phil. "He means pussycat?" - -Phil nodded. - -"I mean the Green One," Sacheverell confirmed a bit reprovingly. "I -mean Bast Returned, the Bringer of Love and Concord." - -Dytie didn't bother with that, but went on to whisper to Phil, "He say -Op'ly. Op'ly nice slim man there good face? Meet us please." - -Sacheverell was getting set for a speech and he gave Phil a faintly -pained look when the latter performed the desired introduction. -Dr. Opperly surprised Phil by gallantly kissing Dytie's hand and -then not letting go of it. He didn't behave at all like a scientist -of eighty-plus years should. And Dytie turned on a lot more charm -than Phil recalled her using on him. As the two of them stood there -murmuring happy but probably highly intelligent nothings to each other, -Phil felt a jealous impulse to call out to Opperly, "Wait until you -see her real legs," but he somehow suspected that Opperly wouldn't be -shocked at Dytie's real legs or anything about her. He had noted a look -of surprise come into Opperly's face as the latter took Dytie's hand, -and from his own experience he'd known why, but Opperly's surprise had -turned not to revulsion, but to eager interest. - -Opperly's voice suddenly became sharp, clear and romantic: "I'd be -delighted to, Miss da Silva." - -Dytie turned to the others with a self-satisfied smile. "Op'ly me got -much talk 'bout," she announced. "'Scuse please. Dion you take care -pussycat business me." - -And she and Dr. Opperly strolled out through the dining room arm in -arm, beaming at each other and chatting happily. - -Sacheverell looked after them a shade critically. "They don't seem to -have any great regard for the importance of the situation, I must say, -so we'll carry on by ourselves in making plans to rescue the Green One. -Mr. Gish, what have you to contribute?" - -In a few sentences Phil sketched how he'd found Lucky at Fun -Incorporated, lost him again, then caught up with him at the Humberford -Foundation just before Dora Pannes grabbed him. - -As soon as Phil finished, Mary Akeley cut in. She was through sewing -clothes and had begun to put them on a relatively bulky doll which -Phil recognized as the portrait of Moe Brimstine she'd started on -last night. To his amazement, Phil noticed that she was even putting -underwear on the doll and slipping almost microscopically tiny objects -into its pants pockets with a tiny tweezer. - -She said, "Did you happen to find out, Phil, why little old Dr. Romadka -kidnapped those three cats of ours?" - -Phil explained, as briefly and unsickeningly as he could, what had -happened to them. - -Mary reached over her shoulder and got the doll that was the image of -Dr. Romadka. She fixed on it her witchiest stare. - -"Slow, slow acid dripped on your forehead," she incanted with a -sincerity that sent gooseflesh coursing under Phil's shirt. "And I hope -it's days before it gets in your eye. That's the first and mildest of -your torments." She picked up the doll she'd been dressing and informed -it, "That goes for you, too. After the acid really gets in the first -eye, we deviate to other parts of your body. To begin with...." - -A sudden cat fight prevented Phil from finding out just how nasty -Mary Akeley's imagination could get. Sacheverell separated the five -squalling combatants with a few painless but strategic kicks. Then he -hitched up his turquoise slacks and said, looking at his wife severely, -"Now perhaps we can forget all hates and other dark vibrations and get -down to business. Here's the situation, Mr. Gish. Earlier today, Juno -overheard her husband Jackie tell Cookie where Billig and Mr. Brimstine -are hiding...." - -"Just Moe Brimstine," Juno corrected dourly. - -"Comes to the same thing," Sacheverell went on. "Now Jackie and Cookie -are safely asleep upstairs...." - -"Yes," Juno butted in again, "but they're not going to stay that way -too much longer." - -"Not after what you put in their whiskey?" Sacheverell asked her with a -thin smile. - -"Listen," Juno told him, "those two guys have had more things in their -whiskey than ever got wrote down in books jerks like you read. They're -tough, the little punks." - -"Well, if they do wake up, I'm sure you can take care of the two of -them. So there's the situation, Mr. Gish, and the only trouble is -that Mrs. Jones won't tell us where Mr. Brimstine is. She started to, -but then she shut up like an air lock. We've pleaded with her, we've -implored her, we've promised her things. I've done my best to explain -to her just how cosmically important it is that the Green One be served -and worshipped properly, so that he will be able to change the world. -Señor da Silva flattered and jollied her, and Dr. Opperly was friendly -as anything. But she just won't talk." - -"I sure won't talk to nuts like you," the female wrestler told him -wrathfully. "If you hadn't started acting so squirrely, I'd have -probably spilled it straight off. But I'm not the sort of person who -likes to be jollied or anything else--" - -"'Scuse please," Dion interrupted. "No jolly, really mean. Much like -you, Juno Jones. Big strong woman." - -"And I don't enjoy nut talk," Juno said to Sacheverell, ignoring da -Silva. "Every crazy reason you gave me for talking made me that much -surer I wouldn't." She took a drink and turned toward Phil, her elbows -on her correspondingly large knees. "Now, with you it's different," she -said. "You got a nut's idea of food, but outside of that you're pretty -human. And I gotta admit you're a gutsy little guy, because I saw you -go up against Brimstine and from what I hear you did some more of the -same later. But the main thing is that you own this crazy cat, or at -least you was looking for it when I first met you. And I don't believe -you had any nut ideas about it, though I thought so at the time. That -right, Phil? Or are you planning to do something cosmic with that cat?" - -"I just want to find it," Phil said honestly. - -"That settles it for me. It's your cat and you got a right to know -where it is, even if you get killed trying to get it and I get into -all sorts of mucking trouble for telling you. You want I should tell -you in private, Phil, or just say it right out in front of all these -screwballs?" - -"Thank you, Juno," Phil said quietly. "Just say it right out." - -Juno opened her mouth--and then said, "Oh, Lord." - -Phil turned around. Jack and Cookie were just coming in from the hall. - -"Fine sort of wife you turned out to be," Jack informed Juno, striding -toward her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Can't leave -you ten minutes but you start pulling some dumb trick." With circles -under his eyes and a day's growth of beard, the black-sweatered little -wrestler did a fair job of looking outraged and dejected. But Cookie, -automatically imitating his hero, could produce only an expression like -that of a blonde baby about to cry. - -"Getting sneaky, too," Jack observed. "Spying on me." - -"Underhanded," Cookie commented. - -"Underhanded?" Juno banged the silver inlaid table so hard that it -jumped and she had to grab at her glass and the bottle. "Why, you two -stinkers are so permanently underhanded you couldn't play no game but -softball." - -"Also, I don't like the company you keep," Jack continued. "The Ikeless -Joe was bad enough," he said, giving Phil the barest glance before -going on to da Silva, "but where between here and Pluto did you ever -pick up this silly greaser who can't even talk English?" - -"This corny gigolo," Cookie added witheringly. - -Dion, who until this moment had seemed merely interested, put down his -glass and frowned at Jack. "No like you," he asserted. "You want kick -in face, trample?" - -Phil winced, visualizing it in the full, rich details. - -"Do you know who you're talking to?" Cookie demanded of Dion. - -"Don't brawl, boys," Mary called from the alcove, "at least until I've -finished this ticklish part." She was putting some finishing touches -on Moe Brimstine's face under the magnifier. "Then I think I'd like to -watch you tramp around, Dion man." - -"Don't anybody worry," Jack said sadly. "I'm not looking for a fight -even if I was handed one. I'm too downhearted about this innocent, -thoughtless, uneducated wife of mine." - -"Uneducated?" she exploded. "After being married to you all these -years? You got so many rotten ideas you're a whole university. Well, -I've graduated. And shut up, now, 'cause I got to tell Phil here where -he can find Moe Brimstine and maybe Billig and his cat." - -Jack whirled toward her. "Juno, you don't know what you're saying. You -don't know what you'd be doing. Just come upstairs a minute and I'll -explain the whole deal." - -"Come upstairs!" Juno mocked. "Tell that to the green farm girls trying -to break into the wrestling racket. Now look here, Phil. Brimstine...." - -"Juno!" Jack yelled, "I didn't want to tell you in front of everybody, -but there's a million dollars riding on this deal for me and you, if -Billig pulls out of his trouble. Which he can do, so long as he has the -green cat to trade to the government. And look, Juno, Billig's lost -all his bodyguards and power and everything--he's got to depend on -Brimstine and me and Cookie." - -Juno stared at him. For a second or two there was silence. Then -Sacheverell coughed delicately. - -"Jack," he said unhurriedly, "I am convinced that you have a deep -appreciation of spiritual values. Your aura may flicker and dim, but in -the end it always glows out bright and clear. Yesterday you gave up ten -thousand dollars Moe Brimstine would have given you for the Green One, -just in order that we might worship him properly and help him change -the world. Now if you were willing to do that...." - -"I know, I know," Jack snarled at him impatiently, "but this time it's -really big money." - -Sacheverell looked up at the ceiling, as if he were silently telling -some god just how evil a world it was. - -"I was flattered by you and Mary for a while," Jack went on. "I liked -your style and I fell for some of your wild ideas. I played along with -you to the tune of ten thousand dollars, though I won't say I wasn't -going to steal the green cat back and sell it to Brimstine after you'd -had your fun with it. But tuck your aura up over your ears and get this -through your head: this time it's really big money." - -Sacheverell said, "Mary, remind me to burn our black sweaters tomorrow -morning." - -From the look on Juno's face, Phil could tell that Jack had finally -done something to please her. - -But he had done it rather too late. The satisfaction washed out of -Juno's face and only the grimness was left as she said to him, "That -million was just for you, Jack, or for you and Cookie until half a -minute ago. Another thing, Billig isn't going to pull out of this--and -if he did he's the kind of man who kills the people who save him. But -even if you got your million, I wouldn't take any part of it. Don't -get the idea that anybody, including that crazy green cat, has made -me go soft. It's just that I wouldn't ever accept anything from you, -Jack--not ever again." Without a pause she turned to Phil and said, -"Brimstine's behind the counter in the Bug-Eyed Bar in All Pleasures -Amusement Park. I'll take you to the exact spot." - -At that moment, when everyone was watching Juno, a cool, scornful voice -spoke from the dining room: "And we'll be coming along." - -Phil's head followed the others around. Standing in front of Lucky's -altar, his bulging forehead wrinkled with unsmiling amusement, was -Carstairs. To his left stood Llewellyn, eyes gleaming in his impassive -black face. To Carstairs' right lounged Buck, yawning but watchful. -Phil got the feeling that the hep-thugs were trying to look like the -muzzles of the weapons they held with casual proficiency. Close beside -Buck and a little behind him stood Mitzie Romadka. - -Carstairs said, "We've been finding out some things about this green -cat ourselves." He could talk very softly because there wasn't any -noise in the room. "We think it would be a lot more desirable if we -were the ones who sold the cat to Uncle Sammy. You people are going to -help us get the cat. Incidentally, clown," he addressed Phil, "your -little girl friend here was responsible for our locating you people. -Isn't that so, Mitz?" - -But Mitzie said nothing. To Phil, she looked remarkably pale, -tight-lipped and miserable for a girl enjoying a revenge. - -"Yes," Carstairs continued, "she came whimpering to us a little while -ago, asking us to kidnap you or something silly like that. Can you -imagine, clown, your girl friend was stupid enough to think we'd be -pleased at her and even do something for her, after we'd kicked her -out of the gang and she'd skunked on us to Billig? Youthful illusions -die hard. Well, instead of that she did something for us. After a -little persuasion she told us all she knows about the green cat and you -people, also some addresses--including this one." - -And now Phil saw that Mitzie was looking at him agitatedly and trying -to speak, but couldn't get her mouth open. He realized her mouth must -be taped shut with some transparent, non-reflecting material. Buck -noticed and twisted her wrist while thoughtfully watching her face. - -Carstairs concluded, "There's not much more to say. You and you and -you"--and he stabbed a gun muzzle at Jack, Cookie and Sacheverell--"are -staying here with my friend Llewellyn. Dear little Mitz will stay here -too--that's partly in case you get any funny ideas, clown. The rest of -you are coming along with Buck and me on a thrill-packed trip to All -Pleasures. According to what Mitz tells us, you all may have useful -angles on catching this cat for us. Transportation's out in front." - -Juno got up with a sullen shrug. Dion for once was very quiet. Phil -found himself wondering whether or not Opperly and Dytie had avoided -the hep-thugs. - -Mary Akeley took the dolls depicting Moe Brimstine and Dr. Romadka, put -them in a big handbag, caught up a bolero jacket, and calmly announced, -"Well, I'm ready." - - - - - XIX - - - THIRD MILLENNIUM THRILLS! - - 1000 FEET OF FREE-FALL! - - RECORDED KISSES AND HUGS! - Cuddle Your Favorite Star - _Better Than Handies_ - - YOUR MIND CLEARED IN TEN MINUTES! - _Relive Your Childhood_ - You'll Feel Ripping as a Rocket! - - TEST YOUR STRENGTH AGAINST A BEM! - - KILL MARTIANS! - - THROW ROCKS AT GLAMOR GIRLS! - - FLUORESCENT TATTOOS! - -Those were a few of the signs that flared and blared at Phil as he was -marched across the springy, rubberized, plasti-bottle strewn grounds of -All Pleasures Amusement Park. - -The government crack-down on Fun Incorporated had produced a few -tangible changes in Double AP, as far as Phil could judge from his last -visit. The burlesque juke boxes were padlocked, the rubberoid figures -that would shimmy orgiastically for a quarter were shrouded from view. -Dresses were perhaps an inch higher than usual on the bosoms of the -girls working in concessions. There didn't seem to be any shifty-eyed -gents recruiting special parties to meet a gambling robot or enjoy -some other form of illegal entertainment. In front of the side show -someone was painting out the sign that read, "See the Woman With Four -Mammary Glands!" Phil noticed Dion looking up at this defacement rather -wistfully. - -Yet there was an uneasiness in the park, and it wasn't just that the -crowd was light. Barkers called out too suddenly and stopped too -soon. Customers hesitated uncomfortably in front of concessions, then -shuffled morosely on. Over-age glamor girls ready to dodge rubber -rocks, or have their bedclothes or skirts jerked off when a spaceball -hit its planet-simulating target, were a trifle hysterical in the -challenges they shrilled at passing patrons. The cries coming faintly -from the top of the 1,000 foot drop in the Spaceship Ride weren't the -usual terrified but delighted squeals; they sounded more like wails. - -Perhaps the fall of Fun Incorporated had caused people who pathetically -treasured their thrills, or the money to be made from them, to wonder, -"What next?" Perhaps President Barnes' rambling apocalyptic speeches -had finally taken effect, making people ask themselves what they were -getting from the so-called pleasures of life, especially the more -highly advertised ones. Perhaps the government directive just now being -barked from the public news-speakers for the destruction of all cats -had given people a "We'd be safer at home" feeling. - -Or it may have been that the uneasiness at Double AP was part of a -general feeling gripping America, a feeling that had been gathering -power in the unconscious and just now burst into thought, a feeling -that something that even the government couldn't handle was stalking -invisibly, whether for good or ill, behind each man. - -Of course, for Phil the menacing stalkers were two very definite -figures: Carstairs and Buck, who at the moment were shepherding their -unwilling assistants through the pupil of one of several surrealistic -eyes that served as the entrances to the Bug-Eyed Bar. - -Tonight the gaudy tavern was emptier than the Park outside. Its -famous Ten-G Highballs and Stun-Gun Cocktails were going begging. Its -notoriously drink-hungry hostesses were conspicuous by their absence. -The only two customers were being served soda pop by the smaller of the -two bartenders, making it very simple for Juno, Phil, Mary and Dion to -climb onto pneumo-barstools in front of the other bartender. Carstairs -and Buck stood close behind them. - -Phil found it difficult to believe that the man in front of them was -Moe Brimstine. For one thing, his hair was red, even to the stubble -on his cheeks and chin. For another, the eyes that Moe had always -kept behind dark glasses were as small and squinting as a pig's. And -although the fugitive from the FBL must recognize several of them, he -didn't show it in any way that Phil could discern. He looked them all -over stolidly, polishing the speckless bar with the immemorial soiled -towel. For that matter, the whole bar looked much as a bar might have -looked fifty or a hundred years before; robots could not supervise -B-girls, nor had they ever been legalized as bouncers. - -"What's your pleasure?" the big red-head asked. - -Phil felt Carstairs' gun dig his ribs. He tried to wet his lips. - -"Mr. Brimstine, I want my green cat," he croaked. - -Moe Brimstine wrinkled his forehead. "That made with creme de menthe, -chartreuse, or green fire?" - -"I mean my live green cat," Phil told him. - -"We don't serve drunks here," Brimstine said evenly. "Your friend's had -one too many. What would you ladies and gentlemen care for?" - -Mary Akeley opened her handbag and laid the Moe Brimstine doll on the -counter before her. She looked at it thoughtfully for a moment and -with deliberate finickiness took off its tiny dark glasses. Its eyes -were piggy. She smiled. She replaced the glasses and fished out of her -handbag a hatpin, a pair of scissors, a small knife, a little pair of -pliers, a sample size flame-pack, a tiny iron with insulated handle, -and a white crusted black bottle, and lined them up in a neat row. - -"This isn't a powder room, lady," Brimstine said. "Order your drinks." - -Phil couldn't help but be impressed by the big man's composure, and -then without warning he felt a gust of terror that he knew at once -had nothing to do with guns behind him and could hardly stem from the -childish paraphernalia for black magic Mary Akeley had set out. - -He could tell that the gust had hit Moe Brimstine too, for the big man -dropped the towel and backed up against the shelves of bottles behind -him. - -Mary Akeley said, "Mr. Brimstine, you stole the Green One, whom my -husband adores as Bast. You are going to suffer until you return him." -Her voice shook a little at first, then settled down to a cold and -cruel monotone. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring my little rack and iron -maiden, but these implements are quite adequate." She ignited the -flame-pack and held the tiny iron over it. - -Phil heard Juno draw in her breath and Carstairs give a funny grunt -behind him. The end of the iron grew red. Mary Akeley turned the doll -over on its face and touched it lightly with the iron. Its pants smoked. - -Moe Brimstine gasped loudly and clapped his hand behind him. Then he -grabbed tremblingly at the doll, but Mary Akeley closed her hand around -its two arms and its middle. Instantly Brimstine's arms clamped down -against his sides and stayed there. Mary stood the doll up. Brimstine -straightened. She moved it away from her a few inches. Brimstine backed -up into the shelves. Sweat beaded his forehead. Mary unexpectedly -flicked the doll on the cheek with the hot iron. Moe Brimstine gasped -again in pain and jerked his head back. - -"This sort of thing is going to go on until you give us the Green One," -the young witch said matter-of-factly. Phil saw that a red spot had -appeared on Moe Brimstine's ashen cheek. - -"Only it's going to get much worse fast," she amplified, reaching for -the white crusted bottle. Moe Brimstine started to say something, but -she clamped the thumb of the hand holding the doll over its little -mouth. - -"After a while I'll be much more apt to trust the things you say," she -explained. Moe Brimstine's face grew red and his eyes bulged. - -Then a shadow came strolling softly along the top of the bar. Turning -fearfully as he shrank away from it, Phil saw that it was green -and silken and had a wise and winsome face. In a split second of -realization Phil knew that it was Lucky who had breathed supernatural -terror at them, just as he had at the Humberford Foundation; Lucky -who had opened Moe Brimstine's mind and built a bridge between it and -Mary's, so that suggestion had made him experience everything happening -to the doll. - -And then Phil realized that no further unpleasant things were going -to happen to Moe Brimstine and that no one was going to cause any -trouble, even Carstairs or Buck, for suddenly all terror vanished and -friendliness and invincible good will began to pour out of Lucky like -Scotch from a bottle. Phil could feel it enter and fill all the others. -There were little sighs and chuckles. Mary Akeley's lean finger shrank -from the white crusted bottle, then hurriedly swept all the implements -off the bar into her bag. - -Lucky stood in front of Phil and stretched, slowly and luxuriantly -working the muscles of his neck and back. Moe Brimstine beamed at the -green cat, and the happy creases around his little eyes suggested those -of Santa Claus. With an "If you don't mind?" to Phil, he reached out -his big hand and softly and wonderingly stroked the silky fur. - -"You sure rescued Uncle Moe in the nick," he told Lucky, scratching -behind his ears. "I'm sincerely sorry for the things I did to you. -I don't understand them now, and I'm sure glad you got yourself -unstunned, though I don't understand how you did." - -Then he straightened up and boomed out, "What'll it be, friends? The -drinks are on the house!" And they were, too--several quick, happy -rounds of them. Even Lucky got a cocktail compounded of milk, egg -white, powdered sugar and gin. On Phil's advice Moe put it behind the -bar so Lucky could consume it in private. - -Buck let out an adolescent guffaw and handed two guns, butt-first, to -Brimstine. - -"Reckon I better check my shootin' arns, podner," he explained, -adapting his hillbilly accent to cowboy lingo. Moe accepted them, -tested one by shooting out a light in the ceiling, and put them away. -Likewise Carstairs gave up his weapons, with the added injunction that -Moe was to sell them and use the money to buy more liquor when the bar -gave out. - -Juno, with a smacking big whiskey in front of her, leaned across Phil -and assured Mary, "From now on, I'll believe every word nuts tell me, -especially you and Sash." - -"And I'll always tell you when we're lying," Mary assured her back, -rather mumblingly, since Dion was nuzzling her. - -As customers drifted into the bar by ones and twos, Brimstine called -them to join the party. As soon as they did, they became as friendly -and glowing as anyone else. After a time there was a small crowd and -Moe did nothing but pour, shake and serve. Shortly he quit the shaking -part. - -Mary broke away from Dion and picked up the Brimstine doll and hugged -and kissed it, saying, "You dear, dear man." Moe paused for a moment in -his bartending to shut his eyes and quake ecstatically. - -Then Lucky came out from under the bar and jumped on it and walked up -and down in a very lordly way but with a definite lurch. After a bit -he jumped down in front of the bar and the crowd parted for him. The -drunken green creature zigzagged with dignity toward an exit. - -Moe heaved himself over the bar, spilling several drinks, and called -out, "Come on, everyone, let's have fun! Everything at Double AP is -free!" - -And so a bacchanalian procession began to weave through All Pleasures -Amusement Park, with Moe serving as Bacchus, Lucky as a leopard, and, -thought Phil, if the others only knew about Dion. - -There were nymphs a-plenty, as Moe invited each girl to leave her -concession after everybody that wanted had a turn and Moe had explained -how the games were gimmicked and all the prizes had been distributed or -at least offered. - -Once or twice concession owners bleated indignantly at Moe's rallying -cry, "It's all free, folks!" But their objections always dissolved at -Lucky's arrival. - -The procession grew steadily larger. Occasionally groups would leave it -to go on free rides, but there weren't as many of these groups as might -have been expected and they always seemed to be happy to get back. - -Moe was enjoying himself with godlike capacity. He skipped like a lamb -on the rubberized surfacing. He had a word and a joke for everyone and -could always think of a new stunt to cap his last. Perhaps he reached -his high point when he loosed a tiger and two black panthers from the -animal show. Arousing no fear, they wove in and out of the procession -happily, accepting caresses from everyone but apparently getting the -most pleasure out of lowering their necks to rub Lucky's. - -Phil was enjoying himself thoroughly, especially while romping hand -in hand with a cute red-head from the "Visit Vicious Venus" show, but -every now and then the thought of neglected dangers and duties returned -to nag him. On one of these occasions, Juno threw a big arm around his -neck, almost knocking his head off, and said, "Got troubles, Phil? Give -'em to Mama Juno and she'll throw 'em away. Oh boy, do I love that -green monkey! He's got the best little formula for living there is. -Hey, looka that!" - -She was pointing at Carstairs and Buck, who had discovered a concession -titled in flaming red phospho-flare KICK THE LOVELY LADY INTO YOUR -ARMS and were happily struggling for the possession of a very large -mallet which apparently had something to do with the game. After some -puzzling, Phil understood. The game was the age old one of striking a -target on the ground which caused an indicator to jump up a pole--with -the typical late twentieth-century addition that, if the indicator -reached the top of the pole, not only did a bell ring and lights flare, -but a huge hinged lower leg with a cushioned boot swung down and rudely -lifted a lovely lady off a perch some three feet above the winner and -into his arms, if he were ready to catch her. - -This last couldn't have been any too sure, since the lovely lady was -one of the glamor girls pushing fifty rather than forty. At present she -was glowering cynically at Carstairs and Buck, as if certain they were -infinitely more interested in the mallet than in her. She wasn't yet -under Lucky's influence, as the green cat had momentarily romped off -with the black panthers to the tail end of the procession. - -The two happy hep-jerks got things settled between them and took many -mighty thumps at the target. The indicator jumped high but always -hesitated just heartbreakingly short of the top. The onlookers sighed -sympathetically. By this time most of the bacchanalian procession had -gathered around the "kick the lady" concession. It was strategically -located between two bars and opposite the "Mind Clearers," as they -chastely labeled themselves in blinking red fluorescents, and a dismal -cavern mouth called "Pluto's Palace," beside which was an inaccurate -model of the solar system with the planets revolving jerkily. - -Moe Brimstine was refreshing himself with a pitcher of beer his -attendant nymphs had rushed him from one of the bars. Two black shapes -came undulating in from the outskirts in pursuit of a green flash, as -Lucky returned to his proper position, bringing the other felines with -him. - -Then, as Carstairs started to toss aside the mallet with an amiable -grin of defeat, Dion da Silva came charging up and grabbed it. He -stripped off his jacket and shirt, revealing an extremely hairy chest -and back. - -"That Dion man is sure male looking," Mary murmured to Phil -appreciatively, eying her hero. "With those cute ears, he's just like a -little old satyr." - -Dion flexed his impressive muscles, took up the mallet, and crashed it -down with a force which the spectators felt with their back teeth. The -bell clanged, the light flashed and the big foot started its descent. - -At the same time, Dora Pannes pushed out of the crowd from the -direction of Pluto's Palace and walked haughtily past Dion with never -a glance at him or anyone else. She was moving toward Lucky with the -single-purposeness of a sleep walker. - -Disregarding the kicked lovely lady, Dion sprang upon Dora Pannes, -crushed her to his hairy chest, and started suffocating her with -kisses. Phil gallantly stepped forward and caught the lovely lady. His -knees sagged. She was now within range of Lucky's influence and pursed -her lips invitingly at Phil, but he quickly set her down, aghast at -something else. - -With a sudden howl of furious anger, Dion had pushed Dora Pannes away -from him, so that she fell down heavily. Before anyone could stop him, -Dion snatched up the mallet and brought it down with a titanic crash on -the head of the gorgeous violet blonde. - -"I in love with thing like that!" he screamed. "Aah!" And he continued -to batter the beautiful head and body so that it bounced up and down on -the rubber. - -Phil was doubly shocked because this was occurring in Lucky's presence. -In fact, the green cat, sitting calmly in front of Phil, seemed to be -looking on with approval. - -Dora Pannes began to writhe crippledly and lasciviously between blows -and to sing "Slap Me Silly Honey" in a hideously gay voice. Then her -head, flattened by repeated blows, split open. But instead of brains -there spilled out fragments of glass, plastic and metal, some of them -with wires attached. Her voice rose in a final meaningless duck quack -and she stopped moving. - -A number of realizations fitted themselves together in Phil's mind -at this proof that Dora Pannes was not a human being, but the most -advanced of mannequins created by Fun Incorporated's technicians, a -robot operating by scanners and instruction tapes. Why, even her name -was a pun from Greek mythology, a rough anagram of Pandora, the metal -maiden constructed, if Phil remembered Dr. Romadka correctly, at the -command of Zeus. - -As Dion finally put down the mallet, a girl in slacks broke out of -the crowd and grabbed Phil's arm. It was Mitzie Romadka, panting and -disheveled. Behind her darted Sacheverell Akeley. - -"Jack and Cookie managed to slug Llewellyn," she panted, "and tried -to do the same to us. We got away from them, but they've gone to warn -Billig." - -Looking around quickly, Phil realized that they had. Standing in the -gloomy entrance to Pluto's Palace was Mr. Billig, flanked by a half -dozen gleaming sales-robots. Only these sales-robots had gun muzzles -jutting from their gleaming turrets. Billig had a box slung to his -chest. - -"Any funny business from anyone and they mow down the crowd," he -called, his fingers poised over the box. "Dora, stun that cat and bring -it here." - -The crowd sucked back to either side and showed Billig the wreckage of -Dora Pannes, with Lucky sitting serenely beside it. Phil could see the -horror come into Billig's face as he sensed the golden wave of peace -coming from Lucky. Billig jerked up the ortho and fired. - -The blue beam splattered molten rubber a dozen feet from Lucky and did -no other damage before it winked out. But as the dazzle died, Phil saw -that the beam's back fire had found a target. Billig pitched forward -with a large hole in his head. - -Then, as if Billig's fall had been a cue, a small, fattish man stepped -out through the curtains of the Mind Clearers. Although he was wearing -some sort of partial gas mask, Phil recognized Dr. Romadka. He pointed -a stun-gun, Lucky collapsed and was still, and the night's eerie peace -shifted in a finger snap to a churning terror which seemed to Phil to -take the form of a palpable vibration, a wailing roar. - -Romadka darted forward toward Lucky. Beside Phil, Mary Akeley jerked -something from the pocketbook and waved it in the air. "Anton!" she -screamed menacingly, and when the psychiatrist looked her way, she -swung the doll of him sharply against her foot, so that its head -snapped against her heel. - -For a moment Phil believed she was a genuine witch, for Romadka pitched -forward on his face. - -But then he saw that the wailing roar had been that of a dozen squad -cars, converging on the spot from all directions and rocket braking -so close to the crowd that there were singed legs and screams. Men -uniformed and in plain clothes piled out and barked and pommeled the -crowd into a semblance of control. The man who'd jumped from the -foremost car lowered the stun-gun with which he'd knocked out Romadka. -It was Dave Greeley. - -For a moment Phil wondered bleakly whether Billig mightn't have made -arrangements with the government for a deal involving the cat, naming -this place as a rendezvous. Then out from behind the FBL man stepped -Morton Opperly, peering about with great interest, and Phil decided -that this was a world in which you couldn't even trust noble looking -old scientists pretending to be great liberals and babbling government -top secrets in order to win your confidence. - -He held out his wrists for the handcuffs. - - - - - XX - - -A half hour after the big rubber hands of the telemanipulator yanked -Phil out of his cubicle in the black maria, he had been exposed to -so many sets of security checks that he guessed there were only two -places in America he could be headed for: the Heptagon or White House, -Junior, in New Washington. - -Moved along by telemanipulators which did not seem to care which -side up they carried people, he had been prodded, thumped, scanned, -sampled, and subjected to other indignities. His footprints, retinal -blood vessel layout and other physical patterns and dimensions had been -taken, presumably for checking against his FBL dossier; likewise his -voice pattern and hand writing. He had been X-rayed and magnetically -tested for bombs that might be surgeried inside him. His breath and -blood had been checked for BW germs and viruses. He had been thoroughly -geigered. Lights had been flashed in his eyes, questions had droned in -his ears. Once or twice he thought he'd been put to sleep. All through -the process he'd felt a miserable and futile indignation. - -But now, as a final rubber hand sliding in a slot in the wall hurried -him down a corridor and deposited him at the entrance to a large room, -he suddenly realized that he didn't care any more. In fact, he began to -feel calm. - -And then he was being conducted to a seat by a human usher at last. He -looked around. Almost everyone he'd been mixed up with in the past few -days was here: Jack and Juno Jones, looking quite awestruck, along with -Cookie; Moe Brimstine with his incongruous red hair; Mitzie Romadka and -her father, pale and woozy; Sacheverell and Mary Akeley; Dr. Garnett -and Chancellor Frobisher from the Humberford Foundation; Dion and Dytie -da Silva, the latter with a cloak huddled around her; even Carstairs, -Llewellyn and Buck. Along with them were quantities of unfamiliar -faces--FBL people, Phil supposed. Others, presumably guards, lined the -walls. - -Most of these individuals were watching three men who were seated -like judges behind a large desk across the room: Dr. Morton Opperly, -President Robert T. Barnes, and a stony faced man whom Phil recognized -as John Emmet, head of the FBL. - -Emmet looked as thin as Opperly, but infinitely tougher. Like Opperly's -his face showed an intense and ceaseless curiosity, but a curiosity -that never became carefree, as if each new fact was for him a new -responsibility. - -At the moment, Emmet was speaking to Dave Greeley, who was supervising -two white-smocked technicians as they telemanipulated Lucky, who was -limp as a dish cloth, into a low walled box set between banks of -electronic tubes and transistors. Apparently Greeley had voiced a doubt -as to the safety of the set up, for Emmet was telling Greeley that the -research division guaranteed that the low intensity stunfield in which -Lucky had now been placed would keep the green cat harmless. - -But Phil heard only the tail end of the conversation as he was being -seated between Dr. Garnett and Sacheverell. The next moment the room -got very quiet. Emmet looked them all over. - -Finally Emmet said, "I think you all know why you're here. I want the -fullest cooperation from everyone. Within the walls of security now -surrounding us, complete frankness is possible. I, myself, shall be as -frank as I expect you to be." - -Emmet paused, then leaned forward a little. "To begin with, the -creature known as the green cat is real. Its powers of influencing -thought and emotion are also real. It truly intends the conquest of -America and of the entire world. Finally, it is neither mutant nor -mechanism, but an invader from the planetary system of another star. -Dr. Opperly, will you kindly outline the information you have obtained -from the being masquerading as Miss Aphrodite da Silva?" - -Dr. Opperly's voice was faint but very clear. - -"The eighth planet of the Star Vega--that is, if Miss da Silva and -I have got our indentifications straight--is earth-type though of -somewhat greater mass. Its landscape, Miss da Silva tells me, can be -pictured as endless, hard baked plains dotted with small lakes and -marshes, and groves of tall trees. On this planet, intelligence evolved -in a swift hoofed biped leaf eater, whose forelegs became specialized -as organs for manipulating branches and for brief food seeking climbs. -This specialization occurred when the creature was a primitive equine, -so that while its hind legs were developing very horselike hoofs, its -forelegs were becoming startlingly humanoid hands. The result was a -being remarkably similar to the satyrs and fauns of Greek mythology. -Miss da Silva, would you care to give these people an idea?" - -Dytie stood up, whipped off her cloak, and stood facing them in hirsute -nudity. For a moment there was no reaction, then she stamped her hoofs -twice and her figure became real. She wrapped the cloak around her and -sat down. - -"Miss da Silva tells me that clothing is not customary on Vega -Eight," Opperly observed. "They have also advanced farther than we in -technology, possessing force fields that divert gravity, also direct -atomic drive spaceships capable of approaching the speed of light. -But perhaps the most remarkable fact about this satyr race is that -they are symbiotes, and that their symbiotic partners are a sort of -creature that never evolved on Earth and that has a way of life with -which we are quite unfamiliar. For the moment I will say nothing about -these symbiotic partners, except that they have no technology, did not -originate on Vega Eight, and that they are not very intelligent, but -are responsible for the Vegan invasion of Earth." - -Opperly ignored the murmurs greeting these paradoxical statements. -"Under the urging of their symbiotic partners, the satyrs--if I may -use that term--sent a spaceship to Earth. I gather that the 26 light -years were covered in something like 35, though of course the time -was much less to the voyagers. Approaching Earth, they put their -ship into an orbit and rendered it invisible. For about two more -years they stayed in the ship, except for careful exploratory trips -in a gravity-diverting space dinghy. They monitored our radio and TV -broadcasts, learned something of our languages and customs. The satyrs -realized that it would be possible to disguise themselves as earthlings -and eagerly did so, since they knew it would be highly desirable -for them to keep in close contact with their rather scatter-brained -symbiotic partners when the invasion began. - -"And now," Opperly said slowly, "I come to the point where I must -describe the symbiotic partners and I'm not too sure that I can. Don't -you think, Miss da Silva--?" But Dytie shook her head emphatically. -Opperly shut his eyes for a moment, then he said, "You know how the -presence of a pet can occasionally bring harmony into a home. Or -sometimes it's a child. Well, imagine an animal that, at some nudge -in the evolutionary helter-skelter, began to specialize for this -purpose, and to evolve into a harmony bringer. Think how the cat has -established itself in our culture, largely on the basis of its charm, -and imagine how much more successful it would be if it could bring -us not only beauty but harmony and peace. Imagine such a creature -gradually evolving the power to create and spray hormones that would -dispel anger and create amity in other creatures, somewhat like the -flowers which evolved scents and odors to attract the bees. And think -of it developing, for self-defensive purposes, hormones to create -terror. Imagine it acquiring extrasensory perception and a sensitivity -to thought waves, and discovering in this way a whole new realm of -possibilities for bringing harmony and creating peace. Imagine it -becoming what might be called an esp-catalyst, either by acting as -an esp relay station amplifying and redirecting thought waves, or by -receiving, copying and projecting clouds of punched memory molecules. -Imagine it surviving and multiplying because it is paid for the peace -and emotional rapport it brings, as the cat is paid for its beauty, in -the coin of food, fondling and protection. - -"Such a creature wouldn't develop general intelligence, because it -would always depend for its survival on the care of others. Yet it -would have a high intelligence in understanding and manipulating moods -and feelings in other animals. It would...." - -He hesitated and Dytie da Silva called to him, "... play by ear!" - -"Thank you," Opperly told her. "It would always be transmitter, not -originator. But although lacking general intelligence, it would always -seek out beings with the highest possible general intelligence, since -they could bring it the greatest security. It would be cunning in -all deceptions enabling it to penetrate a new culture, such as the -imitation of similar appearing animals for camouflage purposes. Like -any other species, it would strive to multiply and colonize, to fulfill -its destiny in the cosmos. By means of its extrasensory powers, it -would spy out intelligence in distant places, even distant planets, -and persuade its symbiotic partners to take it to those places and -planets." - -He paused. "And now I ask all of you," he said, "to try to imagine -what it would be like to be the symbiotic partners of such a harmony -bringing creature, to have a telepathy of feelings and perhaps of -thoughts with those around you, to have a constant guard against those -moments of blind rage and icy selfishness that lead to murder and to -war, to be always reasonably in tune--and yet not deprived of any of -your basic faculties and insights and powers?" - -Again he paused, then said softly, "But I don't have to ask you, for -you're in that state of being right now. You're symbiotes of the green -cat--or rather, I should say, one of the green cats." - -As he said that, a head rather more golden yellow than Lucky's poked -itself up from Emmet's lap and looked at them all. And Phil realized -that the feeling that had possessed him ever since he had come into -this room was the radiance of one of Lucky's cousins. And then he felt -Lucky's radiance added to it, and looking around toward the electronic -contraption, he saw Lucky lifting his head over the edge. - -Meanwhile, John Emmet was saying, "I told you that the green cat--or -rather, cats--intended the conquest of America. I wanted you to hear a -little more of the background before adding that, as far as the Federal -Bureau of Loyalty and the Office of the President are concerned, the -conquest has been completed." And John Emmet smiled. - -"Also," he added, "judging from the messages we've just received from -their newsmoon, along with some extraordinary tokens of faith, the -Kremlin has also capitulated to the Vegan invasion." - -"Is good!" Dytie shouted, jumping up. "You know just four satyrs, ten -pussycats come in ship. We send seven pussycats, two satyrs behind -ferrous veil--mean iron curtain. We think they need pussycats just a -little bit more you do." - -And with that the whole solemn meeting melted into a tumbling flood -of questions and answers, shouted insights, babbling conversation. -Catching a bit here and there, Phil learned how the second and -yellower green cat, out of touch with Dion and Dytie for a week, had -unexpectedly returned to its Vegan mistress after visiting a large -number of most ecstatic church services, and how Opperly had smuggled -that cat in to Barnes and so to Emmet. He heard Dytie explain how -the cats were tricky at feigning unconsciousness after recovering, -from being stunned, and why they insisted on eating in private on -Earth--they were imitating ordinary cats and knew that their hormone -spraying mouths, necessarily extended in eating, would give them away. -He heard Dion try to picture to Dr. Garnett how the cats on Vega Eight -had taken to pointing their muzzles toward the star that was the Sun -and wailing at it at night, and Dr. Garnett proudly suggested that they -must have been esping the brain waves beamed out by the Humberford -Foundation. Whereupon Dion tried to explain how Vega Eight had once -been a war-torn planet, until a race of what sounded like intelligent -space traveling worms had brought them the green cats. - -But while Phil was drinking in all this information and exchanging -words with this person and that, he was moving through the churning -crowd in a very definite direction and with a very definite purpose. -Yet during his progress he continued to overhear scraps of discourse. - -He heard Sacheverell Akeley explaining to Chancellor Frobisher that -the green cats were probably all offspring of Bast anyway and that the -ancient Egyptians--or perhaps Atlanteans--probably had had spaceships -and had taken the green cats to Vega in the first place. - -He heard Cookie gently twitting Mary Akeley about falling for a satyr -and she happily assuring him that she went for men with hoofs, and in -any case was going to make a doll of him. - -He heard Jack pointing out to Dr. Romadka that now that they had the -green cats, there wasn't going to be too much use for psychoanalysts -or for thought police and commissars, and Romadka was reminding him -that most of the commodities peddled by Fun Incorporated, including -male-female wrestling, wouldn't have much of a market either. - -He heard Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck talking about organizing a -chivalric order that was to be called the Knights of the Green Cat. - -He heard Juno Jones telling Moe Brimstine how ever since her farm -childhood she'd always liked animals better than humans and was very -glad that an animal was going to help her change her mind--and where -was that little rat Jack? Moe Brimstine explained to her in reply that -he'd spent so much time getting the jump on people that he'd never -learned to understand them--while poor old Hans Billig had jumped -around so fast he'd never noticed people at all. - -He heard John Emmet and Dave Greeley talking green cat logistics--how -would they ever manage to blanket the whole world with the creatures? - -He heard Morton Opperly and Dr. Garnett talking something way over his -head about esp-nexuses and thought lines and which galaxy did the cats -come from in the first place? - -He took Mitzie Romadka's slim tired hand and assured her that he -loved her and that he thought that violence and jealousy and even -revengefulness were admirable up to a point. - -But he never lost sight of his chief purpose. As he approached the low -walled box from which Lucky was still peering calmly, President Barnes -left off assuring Mary Akeley that the directive for the destruction of -all cats had already been cancelled, and came over to Phil and threw -his arm around his shoulders in a fatherly way and said, "Hi, young -fellow, I hear how you were pretty close to this cat for a couple of -days. Sorry I'm going to have to be taking him off your hands." - -Phil straightened up. "You're not," he said, "Lucky is my cat." - -"Well, see here, young fellow," Barnes protested amiably, "I'm the -president, so I have to have one of these cats. Emmet has one already -and the Humberford Foundation really needs one, and there are only -three in the country. You heard the young lady from Vega say it." - -Several people and the two satyrs wandered up, attracted by the -argument. - -"I don't care," Phil said, greatly encouraged by the tightness with -which Mitzie's hand gripped his. "I know that this is a cosmic crisis -and all that, but this is my cat and I fed it and I'm going to keep it. -C'mere, Lucky." - -Lucky jumped out of the box into his arms. - -"I guess that proves it," Phil said. - -Barnes looked at him just a bit indignantly and there were all sorts -of murmured comments, but just then they heard a tiny and varied -mewing. It came from the box from which Lucky had sprung. - -They looked in and saw five tiny duplicates of Lucky nosing their -little conical faces upward. - -Dytie said, "They small, but they just much good big pussycat, just -much helpful." - -Barnes said, spreading himself around, "Why, now there'll be one for -the Army, the Navy, Dr. Opperly, myself, that goon back east who thinks -he's going to be the next president...." - -"Now Bobbie," Opperly suggested, "don't go giving away more kittens -than you've got." - -"... and, I was about to say," Barnes finished calmly, "one for this -young fellow here." - -Phil looked down at Lucky cradled in his arms. "So you're a she after -all," he said. - -"Oh no!" Dytie burst out excitedly, half out of her cloak and half -in it. "You no un'erstand Vega. On Vega sex different. On Vega it's -like ..." and she screwed up her face, seeking for the word. - -"Kangaroos," Opperly interposed. - -"Yes!" Dytie exclaimed triumphantly. "Only this difference: wife carry -babies while, then babies go in father's pouch, he carry rest time. -Everybody help. Later on, babies leave pouch, nurse from mother. Take -off pants, Dion, show pouch." - -But Dion refused rather indignantly. - -"Vega men much modest," Dytie observed to Phil. "Anyway, Lucky is he." - - * * * * * - - - FRITZ LEIBER - - has the following books in Ace editions: - - - "Hugo" winning best-of-the-year novel: - - THE BIG TIME (G-627) - - - Short story collection: - - SHIPS TO THE STARS (F-285) - - - "Sword and sorcery" novels of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser: - - THE SWORDS OF LANKHMAR (H-38) - - SWORDS AGAINST WIZARDRY (H-73) - - SWORDS IN THE MIST (H-90) - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREEN MILLENNIUM *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Green Millennium</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Fritz Leiber</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 1, 2021 [eBook #65482]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREEN MILLENNIUM ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> - <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE GREEN MILLENNIUM</h1> - -<h2>FRITZ LEIBER</h2> - -<p>AN ACE BOOK</p> - -<p>Ace Publishing Corporation<br /> -1120 Avenue of the Americas<br /> -New York, N.Y. 10036</p> - -<p>Copyright, 1953, by Fritz Leiber</p> - -<p>An Ace Book, by arrangement with the Author.</p> - -<p>All Rights Reserved</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any<br /> -evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -<p><i>Cover by John Schoenherr.</i></p> - -<p>For BOB, FRANK, HANK, GERT, and WENDELL</p> - -<p>Printed in U.S.A.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p>The world Phil Gish lived in was not a pretty one, and Phil didn't -enjoy living in it. He was disillusioned, purposeless, hopeless, and -haunted by the fear that a robot would take over his job. But then Phil -was a timid person, not much given to adventure seeking. If he hadn't -been so mild he might have found his kicks at All Amusements, the -syndicated playground where anyone could find fun, providing he had the -proper sadistic and otherwise aberrated elements in his personality. -But Phil was good—and bored.</p> - -<p>And then one day a cat perched on his window—not an ordinary cat—a -green cat. For the first time in years Phil was happy. He promptly -named the cat Lucky because he somehow knew that as long as the cat -stayed with him he'd feel fine. But Lucky didn't stay long. In a matter -of minutes he had disappeared into All Amusements park. It was then -that Phil became involved in a grotesque world, peopled with the most -extraordinary personalities. Just what the cat is and its ultimate -meaning is the secret of it all. You will be surprised.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>I</h2> - - -<p>Phil Gish woke up feeling as good as if all his previous life had -happened to two other guys—poor, miserable clunks!</p> - -<p>Usually his whip-cracking reflexes had him out of bed in a flash and -jerking on his shorts and sockasins while he frantically hunted around -for the jar of beard-dissolving cream. But this time he was able to -outsmart all tyrannous nerve-impulses and keep his eyes closed in order -to enjoy the unprecedented sensation all to himself, not even sharing -it with the advertisement-covered walls of his tiny bachelor apartment.</p> - -<p>Why, it was simply wonderful, he decided after a bit. Outrageously, -impossibly wonderful!</p> - -<p>He actually felt as if this were not a world in which hot and cold -wars had been gushing unpredictably for fifty years like temperamental -faucets, in which the Federal Bureau of Loyalty and Fun Incorporated -ruled the U. S. A. in the name of that drunken, hymn-singing farmer, -President Robert T. Barnes, and in which (according to the Kremlin -Newsmoon, located on an earth-circling satellite vehicle) a new plan -was being considered for exchanging the descendants of prisoners taken -in the half-century-old Korean War.</p> - -<p>And as if he, Phil Gish, weren't a luck-forsaken little guy who on -waking at eight o'clock this morning hadn't taken four sleeping pills -in order to kill the day and temporarily forget that he had just lost -another job to a robot who did it five times as fast and twice as -accurately, and that he'd had a blow-up because of it and been coldly -advised to see a psychiatrist.</p> - -<p>He took a long, luxurious breath. Even the air smelt and felt -different, as if dusted with some golden chemical that banished care.</p> - -<p>He opened his eyes and looked down at his pale chest with the two lone -hairs that were a sardonic last farewell from glorious jungle ape-hood. -But this time the word that came to him was "slim," not "scrawny." He -rather liked his body, he decided—a neat and compact, if not exactly -out-size, bit of tissue. He yawned, stretched, scratched where the two -hairs were, and looked around. The green cat sat on the sill of the -large open circular window, smiling at him.</p> - -<p>"Hey, am I dreaming?"</p> - -<p>The sound of his own voice, with its hint of a morning croak, answered -that question.</p> - -<p><i>Or have I really blasted off from behind the hair line?</i> The second -question, thought not spoken, was quickly suppressed. He felt too -good to let it worry him. If this was insanity, then three cheers for -paranoia!</p> - -<p>Besides, there were all sorts of natural explanations of the cat's -somewhat unconventional color. Just yesterday Phil had seen a young -matron leading two rose-colored poodles. A flash of what might be an -off-the-bosom dress under her cloak had moved him to pass close enough -to hear her assure her companion, "They aren't dye-jobs, you mood-mad -man. They're mutations!"</p> - -<p>Also, weren't some animals naturally green, like the tree-sloth? Though -he seemed to recall that the tree-sloth's hue was due to a fungus or -mold, and there certainly wasn't any mold on the burnished bundle of -benignity on his window sill.</p> - -<p>"Hiya, Lucky," he greeted softly. From the very first he had decided to -connect the cat with his newborn, incredible sense of well-being. If -there was going to be a new era in his life, it was a good idea to have -a symbol for it—a symbol green as spring itself. Besides, it felt that -way.</p> - -<p>"C'mere, Lucky," he called without lifting his head from the spongy -pillow. "Here, Kitty."</p> - -<p>The second invitation, which sounded a trifle silly to Phil as soon as -he said it, wasn't necessary. The cat at once dropped its plump-tummied -body from the window sill and trotted toward him like a soft-shod fat -little horse. Phil felt an odd increase, almost frightening, in the -calm joy inside him. The cat disappeared momentarily under the angle of -the bedside. Then a little green face came over the edge and two tiny -green paws placed themselves beside it, and two coppery eyes inspected -him.</p> - -<p>"How are you, fellow?" Phil asked. "Glad to make your acquaintance. -You're a cool little cuss, all right. Where did you come from?"</p> - -<p>The little face tipped upward.</p> - -<p>"From upstairs?" Phil asked and instantly chuckled at himself for -interpreting the movement as a gesture. "Why not stay with me for a -while? I like your looks and I admire your color. Often wished I were -green myself. Anything for variety—begging your pardon."</p> - -<p>It was a strange and curiously attractive cat face. The ears were -large, the forehead high, the nose-button lost in furry down, the -whiskers hardly apparent, and the mouth had a suggestion of a pucker -or pout. For a fleeting instant Phil had the notion Lucky might look -rather different, rather less like a cat, if caught unawares. And he -was really very green—the green of tarnished copper, only brighter.</p> - -<p>Thinking the word "he," Phil wondered for a fleeting instant about -Lucky's sex. The fat tummy was suggestive. Yet he was somehow sure the -cat was a male.</p> - -<p>Then Lucky smiled again and Phil was aware only of feelings. He reached -out a tentative hand, jerked it back when a little paw flicked out at -it, then shamefacedly corrected the gesture. The little paw touched his -middle finger. Phil stroked the silken paw in turn. Neither time could -he feel a hint of claws. They must all be tucked inside their smooth -sheathes.</p> - -<p>"Now we're friends," Phil said huskily. The cat sprang fearlessly onto -the bed. Coppery eyes came close. A furry cheek briefly brushed Phil's -with casual masculine friendliness. Sudden tears smarted in Phil's -eyes, enough to brim the lids but not to run over.</p> - -<p>What a lonely, empty-lifed fool he must be, he told himself, that a -cat could make him cry. Yet it was true enough. All his life had been -a fading. His parents had seemed warm and wonderful at first, but then -he had begun to sense their gray uncertainties and boredoms. School had -been full of breath-taking promise at one point, with infinite vistas -of knowledge and idealistic brotherhood opening up; but too many of the -vistas had ended in signs saying "restricted" or "subversive" or the -even more maddening blank signs of calculated silence—just as man had -promised himself he'd reach the planets soon, but hadn't. Phil had had -friends, too, at one time, and had really been in love with girls; but -even that had somehow become washed out and worthless. And then the -endless business of being beaten out of jobs by white-collar robots, -beginning with the mail-sorting robots who fed envelopes into the -proper slots by scanning their addresses photoelectrically. The only -thing robots couldn't do, it seemed, was sit in foxholes. That was one -place where Phil recalled no mechanical competition.</p> - -<p>Yes, it had been a very empty, purposeless life indeed, Phil told -himself, at the same time wondering why even that thought could not mar -his present happiness.</p> - -<p>He came out of his reverie and saw that the cat was marching down the -bed, closely inspecting his naked body.</p> - -<p>"Hey, we're friends, but that's going too far. Leave me <i>some</i> -privacy!" Chuckling, he swung out of bed, grabbing up a light robe -as his body left the cone of radiant heat projected from the ceiling -fixture. While shouldering into the robe he hummed a couple of bars -from "Kiss Me, Darling, in Free-Fall" and did a shuffling step that -brought the cat hurrying over to play tag with his toes.</p> - -<p>"Where <i>did</i> you come from, Lucky?" Phil repeated and turned toward the -window. In the three steps it took him to reach it, his gaze lit on -the near-empty dispenser of sleeping pills and for a moment the eerie -doubt came back: mightn't this morning's overdose have triggered off or -paralleled a really big change in his mind? After all, this cat wasn't -normal (and neither were hallucinations!) and his crazy, inexplicable -happiness was altogether too much like the inner world of godlike -perfection into which the paranoiac is supposed to retreat.</p> - -<p>But then he was at the window experiencing a new twist in his mood and -the doubt was forgotten.</p> - -<p>The window opened on a deep, very narrow bay in the remodeled monster -hotel in which Phil roomed. If he risked his neck by leaning out -very far, he could just manage to look out of the bay and glimpse an -advertisement-encrusted corner of Fun Incorporated's wrestling center -and the helicopter field on its roof. The hotel had been built as -a luxury palace for the new war-rich of the 1970's but during the -great housing shortage of the 1980's its vast rooms had been cut up -into tiny sleeping cells. It retained, however, at least one feature -from its lordly days: the large circular windows formed of two sheets -of polarizing glass, the inner of which could be rotated, allowing a -person to blacken his window or have it fully transparent or enjoy any -shade of twilight. One other very unusual luxury touch was that the -windows could actually be opened, swinging on pivots at top and bottom. -Nowadays, with radiant sleep-heating general throughout the hotel and -the air-conditioning system anything but trustworthy, this last feature -was put to real use more often than might have been expected, though -windows were still kept closed most of the daytime.</p> - -<p>It had always seemed to Phil that the great gray wall just ten feet -from his window, with its rows of ominous portholes, many of them -blackened, was the grimmest sight in the world—a symbol of the way he -was walled off from life and people.</p> - -<p>But now, as he stood leaning out just a little, his cropped hair -brushing the tarnished circular rim, it seemed to him that he could -imagine his way through that wall as if it were made of some material -that conducted emotion as copper conducts electricity. Not see or -think through it, but <i>feel</i> through it to the multiple texture of -warm, pitiful, admirable, ridiculous human lives in the cubicles -behind: the two-fifths happy ones, the nine-tenths sad ones, the ones -who nursed fears and frustrations because you had to nurse something, -the ones who hammered fears and frustrations into a painful armor, -the old man apprehensively sorting his limp ration stamps from three -communo-capitalist wars, the boy playing spaceship and pretending the -blacked-out window was the porthole of a comic-book intergalactic -liner, the three unemployed secretaries—one of them pacing—the lovers -whose rendezvous was tainted with worries about the Federal Bureau -of Morality, the fat man feeling a girl's caress by radio handie and -thinking of something long ago, the old woman coddling her dread of -war-germs and atomic ashes by constantly dusting, dusting, dusting....</p> - -<p>Well, his new self certainly had a vivid imagination, Phil decided with -a smile.</p> - -<p>An old hand came out of a porthole three floors down and shook -something—or nothing—from a dustpan.</p> - -<p>Coincidence, of course, or else he'd once watched the woman without -thinking about it—nevertheless, Phil chose to interpret the event as -an encouraging confirmation of his new feeling of outgoingness. Then -the smile left his lips as he thought of another aspect of the opposite -wall.</p> - -<p>This window was the vantage point where he had spent countless drearily -excited hours spying on the activities of all the young women whose -cubicles were even remotely within range. Not the new girl—the one who -wore her black hair in old-fashioned pony style—in the room straight -across, although she was quite beautiful in a sprightly, animal way, -and he sometimes heard her practicing tap-dancing. No, she was a bit -too close and besides, he was vaguely frightened of her. There was -something eerily dryad-like about her and, in any case, she blacked out -her porthole religiously. It was blacked out now, though slightly ajar.</p> - -<p>But all the other girls were recipients of his untiring, sterile -interest. The cute green-blonde just below and to the left, for -instance, Miss Phoebe Filmer (he'd once taken the unprecedentedly -realistic step of finding out her name), why, he'd sacrificed a sizable -chunk of his leisure time to that tantalizing minx. There she was at -this very moment dithering around in a short play robe, inspecting an -assortment of wispy lingerie—a very promising situation that normally -would have held Phil helpless for twenty minutes or more. But now he -found he could look at her and then look away without the faintest -gnawing worry he might miss something. Good Lord, if he wanted to -see more, in any sense, of Miss Phoebe Filmer, he'd scrape up an -acquaintance with her.</p> - -<p>"Prrrt!" A feathery, furry ball came into his hand and he looked down -at Lucky's apple-green face framed by his curving forefinger and thumb.</p> - -<p>"What d'ya want, cat?"</p> - -<p>Lucky ducked out of the cupped hand with a twist that let his forehead -and ear be rubbed, and put his front paws on the window rim. Phil -quickly advanced his hand so that it lightly circled the cat's chest. -He didn't want Lucky to get back out on the little ledge that led to -either side of the window. In fact, as Phil now definitely realized, -he didn't want Lucky to leave him at all, though something told him he -wouldn't be able to stop Lucky if the green cat really wanted to go.</p> - -<p>It occurred to Phil, with a certain shamefaced satisfaction, that all -pets were strictly forbidden in the Skyway Towers (cats and dogs were -pretty rare since the germ war days when they'd been slaughtered as -possible carriers) and so Lucky's owner wouldn't be able to do anything -openly about getting him back.</p> - -<p>But Lucky seemed to have no intention of leaving. He hopped to the -floor and looked eagerly at Phil.</p> - -<p>"Prrrt!"</p> - -<p>"Do you want something to eat? Is that it?"</p> - -<p>"Prrrt-prt!"</p> - -<p>Phil took mental inventory of his snack box and found himself thinking -of the cranberry concentrate. Wildly inappropriate—and yet something -assured him that it would be just right for Lucky.</p> - -<p>It was done quickly: a dark-red marble that swelled to a glistening -ruby golf ball at the touch of water, and then, at another sudden -inward prompting, the syrupy contents of a vitamino capsule poured over -it.</p> - -<p>The last ingredient smelled rather rank and by the time he set the odd -sundae on the floor, Phil was feeling quite doubtful. However, Lucky -examined it with all signs of approval, mewing in eagerness. But then -instead of beginning to eat, he looked up at Phil. Phil thought he -understood: cats have their special proprieties and delicacies. The -little chap wanted to eat in private.</p> - -<p>"Okay, fellow, I'll go shower. And I won't peek."</p> - -<p>Stepping inside the bathroom, he set the shower control to alternate -tepid and very warm. Instead it chose irresponsibly to alternate icy -and steaming, so that he leaped out with a yell. But the incident -didn't even scratch his mood. As he toweled himself (he didn't like the -air drier and toweling robots made him uneasy) he sang:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>We're out in space, they've cut the jet,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>There isn't any ceiling, floor, or wall.</i></div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Let's dance on air, or better yet—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Hug me, love me, darling, in free-fall!</i></div> - </div></div> - -<p>He came out of the bathroom feeling like an emperor and fully -determined to inspect the world he owned, the world that was any -man's for the asking and a little courage. As he slipped on singlet, -trousers, sockasins and jacket, he explained his feelings to Lucky, who -had cleaned up every bit of his colorful meal.</p> - -<p>"You see, it's this way, fellow: I've always been three-quarters dead. -But not any more. I'm through with being scared and stand-offish and -bored. No more filing, dial-watching, and tape-cutting jobs, with some -about-to-be-invented robot breathing down my neck. I'm just going out -and look things over, talk to people, find out what it's all about. I'm -going to have adventures, really live. Some program, eh? And you know -who's responsible for it, fellow? You are."</p> - -<p>Lucky seemed fairly to fluoresce in appreciation. He fluffed his -gleaming green fur.</p> - -<p>Phil wondered what time it was. His wrist-watch had gone dead -yesterday, the cranky thing, only five months after having the battery -replaced. He stuck his head out the window and looked up the dizzy gray -crack to where the portholes were tiny dots and the slit ended in a -ribbon of blue sky. Only the top floor to the east was yellow with true -sunlight, though the false sunlight from the sodium mirror circling the -earth to make evening light for this city was beginning to show about -eight stories down.</p> - -<p>He scooped up Lucky without a thought of leaving him behind or a worry -as to the attention he might attract. But the verdant cat sprang from -his arms and made for the hall door, looking back as if to say, "I'm -right there with you and game for any adventure, too, but I don't need -a nurse."</p> - -<p>Side by side they walked to the stairs and down to twenty-eight—the -overworked elevator stopped only at even-numbered floors. And there he -ran into Phoebe Filmer, play robe swishing and apparently headed for -the snack bar on twenty-eight.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Miss Filmer," he heard himself say. "I've admired you for a -long time."</p> - -<p>"You have?" she said, glancing at him sideways. "How did you know my -name?"</p> - -<p>"Just asked the desk robot who the beautiful girl was in 28-303a."</p> - -<p>She tittered with a faintly flirtatious contempt. "You don't talk to -the desk robot. You just punch buttons and it won't give out names when -you punch room numbers, unless you have a government key."</p> - -<p>"I have a way with robots," Phil explained. "I win their confidence -with small talk."</p> - -<p>"Well," Miss Filmer observed, turning her head and running her hand -through her green-gold hair.</p> - -<p>"Say, how do you like my green cat?" Phil inquired.</p> - -<p>"A green cat!" Miss Filmer exclaimed excitedly. She looked down quickly -and then up skeptically. "Where?"</p> - -<p>Phil looked down too. Lucky wasn't anywhere in sight. A hunk of ice -materialized inside his chest. "Excuse me," he said. "I hope I'll see -you again."</p> - -<p>He raced to the stub corridor. Lucky was standing in front of the -elevator.</p> - -<p>"Gee, fellow," Phil told him. "Don't give me heart failure."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>II</h2> - - -<p>The street snarled at Phil. The snarl came chiefly from a charged-up -electric hot rod that swerved close to the curb to remove a triangular -chunk from the rump of a fat man who had been too slow in skittering to -safety. A second look showed he was not a fat man, but a thin man in a -balloon suit. It deflated rapidly, and he sat down in its limp folds -on the curb and began to sob. Balloon suits were of no real protection -to pedestrians, except by increasing the apparent target, but they -continued as a fad. During the last war they had been pumped full of -hydrogen as a shield against neutrons until a couple of small but -unpleasant explosions in crowded shelters had caused the government to -crack down.</p> - -<p>After snarling, the street continued to growl deep in its throat—it -had two lower levels. The growl was composed of the hum of electrics, -the subterranean rumble of heavier traffic, the yak-yak of competing -vocal advertisements, and the nervous shuffle of feet that was the same -when Rome and Babylon were young, but that was intensified here because -most of the women's feet were on platforms three to ten inches high.</p> - -<p>Neither the growl nor the snarl disturbed Phil. Normally he'd already -have had his ear plugs tucked in, his face fixed straight ahead, his -eyes nervously questing for hot rods, which were known to jump curbs. -But today he simply wanted to drink it all in, to see the things he'd -always been blind to, to note the anxious but apathetic expressions on -the faces of the pedestrians, to sense the invisible lines of force -that, like spider webs or marionette strings, joined them to the -space-overflowing advertisements, which ranged from the crisp, "Learn -to Break Necks!" and the cute "A Strip-Tease Doll All Your Own!" to the -"Why Not Lobotomy?" and the imagination-tantalizing "Glamorize Your -Figure with a Sprayed-on Evening Dress! Plasticfabric cures in a jiffy, -breathes. No heat, no adhesions! Special forms flare the skirt, shape -the bosom! Designed by artists right on your body!"</p> - -<p>Lucky seemed no more frightened of the street than Phil. He scampered -along close to the base of Skyway Towers' monumental façade, the -camouflaging green color of which may have explained why none of the -pedestrians took note of him—not that any explanation was needed as to -why those walking nerve-bags didn't see things right under their noses!</p> - -<p>A gleaming sales-robot veered toward Phil on its silent wheels, but -Phil deftly interposed another balloon-suited man between himself and -it. The balloon-suited man began to get a slick reducing pill sales -talk; evidently the robot had scanned his profile. Phil hurried around -the corner after Lucky, who had turned down garish Opperly Avenue.</p> - -<p>As if he had picked up a scent, Lucky abruptly left the wall, glided -across the sidewalk and padded across Opperly Avenue between the -passing cars. Phil followed, not without a certain heart pounding, -but with no real anxieties. Something allowed him to sense easily the -intentions of all the cars in the block—dodging them was almost fun.</p> - -<p>He reached the opposite curb a good five feet ahead of a playful youth -in a jalopy with a tin body like a space jeep scribbled over with such -signs as "Oh, You Venusian!" and "Girls beware—escape speed zero." -Effortlessly recovering his breath, Phil found himself facing an ornate -cave mouth flanked with old-fashioned fluorescent posters, the largest -lettering on which read: "TONIGHT! Juno Jones, the Man-Maiming Amazon -vs. Dwarf Zubek, the Bone-Crushing Misogynist."</p> - -<p>But he had no time to read the rest of the bill, for Lucky was dancing -up the broad corridor lined with giant stereographs of menacing, -half-naked men and women, looking in the dim light like genies freshly -materialized from smoke.</p> - -<p>Ordinarily Phil would have felt a certain amount of disgust mixed with -fear and uneasy fascination at entering, or even passing, a wrestling -palace specializing in male-female, but today it seemed simply a part -of life. It never occurred to him not to follow Lucky.</p> - -<p>Just short of some turnstiles and a robot ticket taker lost in shadows, -a side corridor spilled light. Lucky whisked into it. Phil had barely -rounded the corner after him when a long, handless, boneless gray arm -shot out of the wall and slapped itself firmly against Phil's middle.</p> - -<p>"Where you think you're going, Mack?" a voice rasped from the wall. "On -your way." And it gave him a quick shove toward the ticket taker.</p> - -<p>Phil could see Lucky mincing inquisitively down the side corridor, -which was lined with doors. He tried to go around the arm, but it -extended itself until it stretched from wall to wall.</p> - -<p>"Still here?" the rasping wall inquired. "Look, Mack, I don't know your -voice. If you got business with somebody, name me their name and the -word they gave you."</p> - -<p>"I just want to get my cat," Phil answered. Lucky had reached the end -of the corridor and was peering into the last doorway. "Here, Lucky," -he called, but the cat took no notice.</p> - -<p>"Means nothing to me," the wall rasped on. "You still ain't named me no -names that tripped any of my relays."</p> - -<p>Lucky disappeared through the doorway. Phil said, "Please let me -through a minute to get my cat," trying to sound as sincere as he -could. "I'll be right back."</p> - -<p>"I ain't letting nobody through," the wall asserted. "Give me a name -and word, quick, Mack."</p> - -<p>At that instant an appalling spasm of fear went through Phil, as if a -light had been turned out inside his mind and his heart sprayed with -liquid ice. He knew that something had happened to Lucky. He ducked -under the gray arm and darted forward, but before he had taken five -steps he felt himself grabbed. The corridor whirled as he was roughly -spun back. Looking down he saw the elastic arm wrapped around him like -a gray python, while the wall grated in his ear, "No go, Mack. Now I'll -have to hold you till the man comes."</p> - -<p>"Let me go. I've got to get in there, do you hear!" Phil yelled. He -struggled futilely to release his arms, yet all the while he kept his -eyes on the doorway through which Lucky had vanished. "Let me go!"</p> - -<p>"Hey, what goes on?" A large, tall woman with close cropped blonde -hair, a broken nose, an out-size jaw and big blue eyes had stepped out -of the nearest doorway. "Cool down, son," she boomed out, coming toward -him. "What did you want?"</p> - -<p>"My cat ran in here," he explained, trying to speak calmly. "It ran -in that room down there at the end." He nodded his head toward it. "I -tried to go after it and this thing grabbed me."</p> - -<p>"Your cat?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, a pet."</p> - -<p>She thought. He noticed for the first time, perhaps because he was -watching the far doorway so closely, that she wore maroon tights and -was stripped to the waist. Her breasts were small, her shoulders sloped -steeply and were heavily, though not cordily, muscled.</p> - -<p>"Okay," she said after a bit. "Let him go," she told the wall.</p> - -<p>"Didn't give a name or word," the wall complained. "Tried to duck -through. Got to hold him till the man comes."</p> - -<p>"Which'll be at least an hour, if I know Jake. Let him go, you dumb -robot," she said in a majestic bass. "This man is my friend. I am -inviting him in."</p> - -<p>"All right, Mrs. Jones," the wall said, sounding almost sulky. The gray -arm unwrapped from Phil and shot back into the wall.</p> - -<p>"Now go find your cat and then beat it," the giantess told him.</p> - -<p>"Thank you very much," Phil said, half turning to her, but keeping the -far doorway in the corner of his gaze. But she didn't answer, only -stared after him doubtfully, still appearing quite unconscious of her -partial nakedness.</p> - -<p>Phil tried not to hurry, although the corridor seemed endless. He kept -telling himself that nothing had happened to Lucky, and wished very -hard he could believe it. He didn't feel big any more, or adventurous. -He passed the woman's door, vaguely noticing heaps of untidy clothes -and a stationary rubber-armed robot for wrestling practice. He came to -the door at the end, having observed that all the others were tightly -shut. He hesitated. He couldn't hear a sound. He stepped inside.</p> - -<p>The room was large, low ceilinged, and lined with lockers and benches. -At the far end was a closed door, flanked by two low mechanical massage -tables, their jointed rubber-fisted arms extended crookedly upward and -making them look like two beetles on their backs. There were a few -other pieces of apparatus, none of which Phil recognized, but most of -the floor was empty.</p> - -<p>Almost in the center of the floor was a brown box about a foot square. -Staring at it, their backs turned to Phil, were two men. One was -rather small but quick looking, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater -and tight black trousers, and holding some sort of gun. The other -was smaller and slighter, and similarly clad in blue. He held a wire -leading to the box.</p> - -<p>Phil cleared his throat. The two men eyed him expressionlessly, then -turned back to the box. Phil edged forward into the room, peering into -the corners for Lucky. Then he jerked back. He had almost stepped on a -dead mouse.</p> - -<p>Looking more closely, he saw there were half a dozen dead mice -scattered around the floor.</p> - -<p>He cleared his throat again, louder, but this time the men didn't even -look around. He started forward again, stepping gingerly over the dead -mouse.</p> - -<p>There was a click. A tiny door opened in the top of the brown box and -a mouse catapulted out. Hitting the floor, it made off in frantic -zig-zags, skidding at each turn. Phil stared, suddenly expecting Lucky -to come darting out of a corner after it. The man in black followed the -zig-zags with his gun. There was no sound or flash from the gun, but -the mouse stopped moving.</p> - -<p>"Try to surprise me better next time, Cookie," the man in black told -his companion. "I saw your hand move when you punched the button." They -resumed their alert, motionless stance.</p> - -<p>Moving around them in a cautious circle, Phil searched for Lucky. He -soon realized there were few likely places of concealment. The lockers -reached from floor to ceiling and were all closed.</p> - -<p>One of the dead mice began to twitch. Cookie put down the wire with the -push-button at the end of it, picked up the mouse and dumped it in the -box through a side door.</p> - -<p>Phil was beginning to feel very queer. He felt there must be some -connection between Lucky and the mice, but it was a dream connection -that didn't make sense. The muscles in the calves of his legs had begun -to ache from his silent tip-toeing.</p> - -<p>Nerving himself, he approached the motionless pair. "Excuse me," he -said with difficulty, "but did you see a cat come in here?"</p> - -<p>The words got no more response than the throat clearing. "I beg your -pardon," he said, "but really I must find out," and he barely touched -the elbow of the man in black.</p> - -<p>The response was instantaneous, though from another quarter. Phil was -grabbed by his jacket front and jerked back by Cookie, whose infantile -features were now tensed into a hard mask.</p> - -<p>"What you did!" The voice was shrilly scandalized. "Interrupting the -kingman at his recreation! Shoving the kingman around! That brings -punishment, that brings pain!"</p> - -<p>Phil felt sick with fear. He knew if only Lucky were there, if only he -could recapture his earlier mood of golden confidence, he wouldn't be -so shamelessly terrified of this little bully who was holding him at -arm's length.</p> - -<p>He wet his lips. "I was only trying to find my cat," he quavered, "and -I didn't shove him."</p> - -<p>"You did too! I saw you! A great big rude shove! And as for cats, Swish -Jack Jones, the Lady Killer, is the top cat around here, the only cat." -The hand holding him twisted his lapels tighter around his throat. "You -can't weasel out of what's coming to you. Well, Jackie, what are you -going to do to him?"</p> - -<p>And now, at long last, the man in black moved. He slowly turned his -head in its ruff of black wool and fixed on Phil the sad, weary smile -of a king who knows it is his boring but inescapable fate to inflict -doom and punishment. He slowly reached out his hand until it grasped -Phil's elbow.</p> - -<p>"Please don't," Phil whispered, but just then a thumb dug into a -nerve between his bones and he couldn't keep back a squeal of pain. -The baby-faced man grinned with mincing approval, as if at last the -proprieties were being satisfied.</p> - -<p>Swish Jack Jones frowned, as if he felt the squeal hadn't been loud -enough, and lifted his other hand. "This is a stun-gun," he said in a -voice patchily varnished with intellectualism. "Ultrasonic. I might -spray your spine with it to get you ready for being worked over. It's -set for mouse power now, but I'll step it up if necessary."</p> - -<p>Phil's guts turned to water. "You don't need to hurt me," he said. "I -tell you I was just looking for a cat."</p> - -<p>The other shook his head sadly and said, "Nosey little men up to Bast -knows what shouldn't tell such great big lies." And he reached for -Phil's thigh.</p> - -<p>At that moment the tidal wave struck. Cookie was shoved ten feet, the -stun-gun clattered on the floor, Swish Jack Jones had taken a quick -backward spring, and the blonde giantess was planted enragedly in front -of Phil and was thundering, "You know mucking well I can stand anything -except when you start bullying people."</p> - -<p>She had slipped on a very dirty short kimono, beautifully embroidered -in the finest Oriental style, except that the figure on the back was -not a dragon, but a fire-breathing spaceship.</p> - -<p>"Don't touch me, Juno, I'm telling you," the man in black snarled in a -voice that had lost a lot of its intellectual veneer. He was massaging -a slapped wrist.</p> - -<p>"I licked you the first time I was matched with you," the giantess -replied. "I licked you the night I married you. And I can do it again -anytime. You <i>and</i> Cookie here," she added as the latter made a grimace -that was intended to be threatening but merely registered spite. "Why -was you tormenting the little guy?"</p> - -<p>"Tormenting?" Jack's voice rose. "I wasn't tormenting him. Just taking -precautions. He came in here like a screwball, not saying anything, -dancing around on his toes, babbling about a cat. As if he was about to -go off his nut. Dangerous."</p> - -<p>Cookie's tight-lipped face bobbed up and down in agreement, but Juno -wasn't at all impressed. "He seemed about as dangerous to me as yeast -spread. Why didn't you let him find his cat and get out?"</p> - -<p>Jack's face registered astonishment. "Juno, was it you let in this -Ikeless Joe?" (It took Phil a moment to realize Ikeless meant lacking -I.Q.) "I was wondering how he got past Old Rubberarm. Do you mean to -say you fell for that story about a cat?"</p> - -<p>"Well, isn't there one?" Juno demanded, scanning the room.</p> - -<p>"How could there be, Juno?" Jack protested, the barest note of -intellectual superiority beginning to creep into his voice. "You didn't -see one, did you? No. And if there had been a cat, wouldn't it have -been after these mice like a shot? And where could it hide in here, -anyway? It couldn't have got in there," he went on as Juno's gaze -rested on the inner door. "<i>He's</i> in there." Juno nodded. "So where -could it be, I ask you?" Jack finished. "You don't suppose Cookie and -me ... I kidnapped it, do you?"</p> - -<p>Juno rubbed her battered nose thoughtfully. She turned on Phil a face -that was friendly but heavy with doubt. "Let's hear some more about -that cat, son. What color was it?"</p> - -<p>"Green," Phil heard himself say, and even as he saw the looks of -incredulity appear on the faces around him, he couldn't keep himself -from going on: "Yes, bright green. And he liked cranberry sauce. He -just came to me an hour ago. I called him Lucky because he made me -feel so good, as if I could understand everything."</p> - -<p>There was a long silence. Phil felt his spirits sink past zero. Then -Juno laid on his shoulder a huge hand that made it sag. "Come on, son," -she said gently. "You better get going."</p> - -<p>Jack strode up with a wry eye on Juno. "Look, Mister," he said to Phil -in a solicitous voice in which the mockery was still cautious, "I had -an appointment with an analyst for tonight, but I think you need it -more than I do." And he handed Phil a torn-off bit of phonoscribe tape. -Phil accepted it humbly and put it in his pocket. Cookie tittered. Juno -whirled on him. "Look," she roared, "his being a nut doesn't excuse -laughing at him any more than bullying!"</p> - -<p>The inner door opened, but Phil couldn't see inside, because a tall, -fat man with a sooty jowl and thick dark glasses pretty well filled it. -Phil sensed a note of respectfulness in the other three.</p> - -<p>"What's the racketting about?" the fat man demanded in a voice which -startled Phil because it was Old Rubberarm's.</p> - -<p>"This guy—" Cookie began, but stopped at a quick look from Jack.</p> - -<p>The thick glasses flashed at Phil. "Oh, one of your nut admirers, -Jack," the fat man said comprehendingly. "Get him out of here."</p> - -<p>"Sure, Mr. Brimstine," Jack said. "Right away."</p> - -<p>The inner door closed. Phil let Juno steer him through the other. He -felt way down in the minuses. So much so that he almost didn't notice -the odd couple coming down the corridor toward them. The man looked -saintly, yet sprightly. He was very sun-burned and he wore orange shoes -and an orange beret. The woman looked like a youngish witch, but with -the nose and chin already seeking each other. A little red hat was -attached by twenty long hatpins to her coarse dark hair, and she had -a red skirt stiff and thick as a carpet. Both of them were wearing -black turtlenecked sweaters. Phil noted them numbly, lost in his own -distress, but was vaguely aware that they were pointedly ignoring the -giantess at his side.</p> - -<p>"You'll find your little tin hero back there shooting mice," she -snarled at them as they passed. The woman merely snooted her witchy -nose, but then the sun-burned man looked around with elfin eyes and a -benign smile. "Joy, Juno," he admonished lightly. "Nothing but joy."</p> - -<p>The giantess looked after them glumly for a moment, then went on. -"Couple of Jack's intelleckchul fans," she confided bitterly. "Poets, -religious nuts, and all that goes with it. Completely turned his head, -the stinkers."</p> - -<p>They reached the corner. Old Rubberarm waggled the tip of a fingerless -hand and muttered, "No loitering," but Juno silenced him with a weary, -"Shut up!"</p> - -<p>"Now get along home, son," she told Phil. "I don't know as I'd visit -that analyzer of Jack's. Probably some fancy guy he got put onto by the -Akeleys—those two intelleckchul jerks you just saw. But maybe some -kind of psycher would be a good idea." She patted his shoulder and -grinned, showing a scar inside her lip. "I'm sorry about what happened -back there—that lousy husband of mine. Anytime you feel like it, drop -in on me. Old Rubberarm's got your voice pattern. Just ask for Juno -Jones. Only one thing, son—no more green cats."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>III</h2> - - -<p>Through half closed lids, whose lashes blurred everything, Phil watched -the ghostly pale yellow circle of the window, which was all the -illumination he could bear now. He hadn't put on any lights when the -sun had set and the sodium mirror above the stratosphere made the only -light, and minutes ago he'd switched off the TV screen although the -girl's voice still crooned a sex song and he still wore the fat mitten -of the handie. But the pressure of her fingers, holding a hydraulically -compartmented artificial hand and transmitting over the airwaves an -electric signal to change pressures of the hydraulic compartments -of the handie, began to feel like that of a skeleton wearing rubber -gloves. Phil jerked off the handie, switched off the voice, lit a -cigarette, and was back with his problem.</p> - -<p>Was he really crazy, he asked himself; was Lucky just a psycho's dream -cat, or had he somehow been tricked? Once again he tormentedly totted -up the evidence. Nobody but himself had admitted to seeing Lucky. And -there were so many other indications of hallucinations: that crazy -color, the silly food, his fleeting hunch that Lucky wasn't "really" a -cat, his suspiciously godlike elation and sense of power.</p> - -<p>But those feelings of his were also the reason that Lucky <i>had</i> to -exist. After what had happened today, Phil simply couldn't endure life -without Lucky, without those warm insights that had galvanized him this -afternoon and shut away all thoughts of his lost job, his loneliness, -his cowardice and frustrations. "Lucky," he whispered without knowing -he'd been going to, and the sick child sound of his voice frightened -him so that he fumbled in his pocket for the phonoscribe tape Swish -Jack Jones had given him. Puffing his cigarette hard so that it made a -hell red glow, he read the smoky words, "Dr. Anton Romadka. Top of The -Keep. Eight O'Clock."</p> - -<p>He visualized the thin black shaft of The Keep, a luxurious -office-hotel, and thought of how few minutes it would take him to get -there. But then he suddenly crumpled the paper in his pocket and began -to pace. Going to Dr. Romadka would mean that he didn't really believe -in Lucky.</p> - -<p>He thought of the sleeping pills but was afraid there weren't enough -left. He reached for a book he'd been reading, but the thought of its -stereotyped sadistic plot was unbearably boring. As a last resort he -turned on the radio again, voice and sight.</p> - -<p>"... ravins the antichrist."</p> - -<p>That phrase, together with the gaunt bucolic face, inevitably meant -that President Robert T. Barnes was telling his Fellow Americans about -Russia all over again.</p> - -<p>"But there are sinners on this side of the polar battlegrounds," the -great midwestern father-image continued, swaying forward and arching -his bushy eyebrows. "Sinners in our midst, creatures of the fleshpots. -They have catered too long to the vilest desires and lusts." He shook a -finger and swayed once more. "I warn them that their time is at hand."</p> - -<p>Phil reached for the knob (how often had Barnes made those futile, and -some said drunken, threats, when everyone knew his administration was -hand in glove with Fun Incorporated!) but he hesitated as an unfamiliar -and rather eerie note crept into the President's voice.</p> - -<p>"Fellow Americans," Barnes almost whispered, wobbling a little from -side to side, "strange forces are abroad, insane thoughts, spirits of -the upper air like those which troubled ancient Babylon. Our minds are -being worked upon, it is the final testing time for—"</p> - -<p>His momentary curiosity gone, Phil twisted the knob to silence and -darkness. Nevertheless, the President's rhetoric set the tone of his -next reverie. He did not pace now, but crouched back in the foam chair -wedged between the radio and bed.</p> - -<p>He must be crazy, he told himself with a quiet certainty that didn't -hurt for the moment, perhaps because he sat so very still. Everything -he'd felt this afternoon had been out of character, including his -ridiculous overvaluation of that dream cat.</p> - -<p>Yes, he must be crazy.</p> - -<p>At that moment the dim circle of the window was intersected by a -smaller and much brighter circle. He automatically stood up and stepped -forward.</p> - -<p>The girl in the room across the bay had switched on her light. Now -she threw down a cloak and walked around the room as if searching for -something, the horsetail of black hair flirting from side to side -as she turned her head this way and that. She was less than twenty -feet away and he could see her clearly. She was wearing a gray suit -fashionably pied with great splotches of black. Her face was compact, -nose small, mouth broad, eyes very wide set, and, as Phil now noticed -definitely for the first time, her ears were lobeless and curved up to -an almost faun-like tip. As on those rare occasions when he'd glimpsed -her before, he felt a quiver of uneasiness.</p> - -<p>She shrugged her shoulders, as if giving up her hunt, and walked over -to the window, looking straight at Phil. He shrank back a bit, though -he knew he was invisible. She grasped a knob on the rim and swung her -hand in a quarter-circle, the window gradually blacking out as she did -so.</p> - -<p>Then, just as Phil started to turn away, the window began to brighten -again until it was almost as transparent as before. He realized what -must have happened. The inner pane of polarizing glass had missed its -catch and revolved silently onward a few extra inches. He'd known it to -happen to his own.</p> - -<p>The girl across the way thought she was hidden. She wasn't.</p> - -<p>She stretched and took off her coat. Phil gnawed his lip. He didn't -quite want to watch her. But anything was welcome that would distract -him from the thought with which his last reverie had ended, and, Phil -knew very well, this window could provide most gripping, if barren, -distractions.</p> - -<p>She slowly parted the magnetic clasps on her blouse, then slipped out -of it with a lithe twist of her shoulders. Phil forgot his fears, -enthralled by the beauty of her dark-nippled breasts. Below them, -almost cupping them, she seemed to be wearing some sort of close -fitting, velvet black undergarment.</p> - -<p>She stepped out of her skirt. The undergarment ended raggedly at her -thighs. It puzzled him, perhaps because of the faint smokiness of the -window. It looked almost as if it were made of some sort of fur.</p> - -<p>Balancing expertly on one leg, she drew the stocking from the other, -and along with the stocking one of those grotesque ten-inch platform -shoes.</p> - -<p>Only—and here Phil's heart jumped—she seemed to have stripped off -much more than that. To be precise, her foot.</p> - -<p>Then he saw she hadn't taken off quite all her foot. At the point where -her ankle should have been, her leg curved backward a trifle, then -sharply forward again, slimming down abruptly to end in a neat little -black hoof.</p> - -<p>She stripped off the other stocking and shoe with the same result. Phil -could see how the foot fitted into a well in the dummy foot and the -platform, and was in that way concealed.</p> - -<p>She danced exuberantly around the room. He could hear the clicks of -the little hoofs. He remembered how he'd heard her practicing tap. He -could see very distinctly her slim pasterns, her dainty fetlocks tufted -with fur exactly the same texture and blackness as her "undergarments."</p> - -<p>She stopped dancing, took up an electric razor, and began critically to -shave the edge of her "undergarment."</p> - -<p>Phil started to think in words. He got as far as "First a green cat, -then—" The next moment he turned and plunged for the door.</p> - -<p>He wasn't very clear about anything for a while after that. For -instance, when he darted across the street two blocks away from the -Skyway Towers he was almost run down by a slowly moving black electric, -stylishly designed in the antique, museum-case style of the early -1900's. In it were sitting Cookie, the Akeleys and Swish Jack Jones -with a box on his lap. Phil didn't even recognize them at the time.</p> - -<p>All he was really conscious of was what his hand clutched in his -pocket—the crumpled phonoscribe tape with Dr. Romadka's name and -address.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>IV</h2> - - -<p>The indicator light sped to the top of the tall column of studs, the -elevator whooshed to a stop, the door opened and Phil stumbled out into -a tiny foyer with carpeting like a gray lawn.</p> - -<p>A wall—this one was female, a regular charmer—murmured, "Good -evening. You have an appointment?"</p> - -<p>"Uh," Phil managed, rather surprised that he could speak at all.</p> - -<p>"Do you have an appointment?" the wall repeated. "Please answer yes or -no."</p> - -<p>"Yes," Phil said.</p> - -<p>"May I have your name, please?"</p> - -<p>"Phil Gish." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered -whether he shouldn't have said Jack Jones, but after humming delicately -for a moment the wall said, "How do you do, Mr. Gish. Please come in."</p> - -<p>The wall slid open to a surrealist pear shape. Phil stepped through. A -sinuous arm, slim and glittering as a serpent, sprang from beside him -and indicated a nearby chair with the gracious wave of a hostess who -has studied ballet.</p> - -<p>"Will you please sit down?" the wall suggested. "Dr. Romadka will be a -few secs."</p> - -<p>Phil gulped. He had the feeling that if he strayed beyond the indicated -area of the room, the arm would do quite as efficient a job as had the -heavier one at the wrestling arena, although probably with an "Excuse -me, please," or even a "Now, Phil."</p> - -<p>He took the suggestion. As if, by sinking into the chair, he had -completed a circuit, the wall said, "Thank you." He stood up. The wall -said, "Yes?" with just a hint of impatience. He sat down again. "Thank -you," the wall repeated.</p> - -<p>The room was as dark, soft and silent as a womb. Evidently most of -Dr. Romadka's patients dreamed expensively. The inevitable desk had a -double curve like a love seat. There were no advertisements anywhere: a -sure sign of wealth. On one wall was a large, round design, apparently -copied from some classical Greek original, which disturbed Phil with -its suggestions of nymphs and satyrs. He quickly shifted his gaze to -an arch, through which he could see the beginning of a stairway. He -decided Dr. Romadka must also have a penthouse.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he heard angry voices, a man's and a girl's. The latter's rose -to a catsquall of hate. A door somewhere shut with a snap, and a bit -later a man came down the stairs without moving his feet. Phil deduced -an escalator.</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka was tubby, bald and beaming with subtlety. He had on his -left cheek four new, deep scratches, which he ignored completely and -apparently expected Phil to. He summoned Phil to the desk with an -indicating nod. They sat down and looked at each other across the -curved and gleaming plane.</p> - -<p>The analyst smiled. "Well, Mr. Gish? Yes, Jack Jones told me your name, -and since Sacheverell and Mary are paying for things in any case, the -new arrangement is quite all right. Oh, Sacheverell and Mary are Mr. -and Mrs. Akeley, Jack Jones' friends. I thought you might have known. -Incidentally, you're an hour late for your appointment."</p> - -<p>A drop of blood fell from the deepest scratch to his white shirt and -spread.</p> - -<p>Phil shivered, then made himself say it. "I was spending the time going -crazy."</p> - -<p>The analyst nodded. "You do seem a bit wrought up."</p> - -<p>"A bit?"</p> - -<p>"Well," conceded the analyst with a shrug to excuse his own inadequate -powers of description. Then he said, "Do not be surprised at going -crazy, as you put it, Mr. Gish—may I call you Phil? It is the rule -rather than the exception these days, though your admitting it is a -bit out of the ordinary. For a full century now Americans have been -living in one of those ages of collective madness and herd delusion, -comparable only to the Dutch tulip mania, the witchcraft dread, the -dancing madness, Trotskyism, and the Crusades. Until 1950 ours might -have been called the Automobile Mania, but now the imagination can -only grope for a name—I'm writing an unpopular book on the subject, -you see. Not that this current social madness is a deep secret or -anything to be startled at. What other results could have been expected -when American society began to overvalue on the one hand security, -censorship, an imagined world-saving idealism and self-sacrifice in -war, and on the other hand insatiable hunger for possessions, fiercely -competitive aggressiveness, sadistic male belligerence, contempt for -parents and the state, and a fantastically overstimulated sexuality?"</p> - -<p>The analyst's voice rose stridently and his eyes popped, as if there -were a personal element in his indignation. But the next moment he was -his merry professional self.</p> - -<p>"Now, Phil, let's examine how this sick society has sickened you. It -may surprise you but we shan't be using any such modern techniques as -electrosleep, deep brain photography or situational therapy complete -with a bottle, a blanket and a blonde love-robot. We shall simply do -what our great-grandfathers would have done—talk. Feel perfectly at -ease. This desk is designed so we can be together, yet need not look -at each other. Care to smoke? Good! Do! Now begin at the beginning. -Tell me the story of your life."</p> - -<p>Phil swallowed. "Excuse me, Dr. Romadka," he said, "but I'd rather not -do that right now. I want to tell you about an experience, I mean, -hallucination, I just had that convinced me I'm crazy, and then I -want you to tell me about it. You know: interpret it or psych it or -something."</p> - -<p>The analyst shrugged happily. "As good a beginning as any. Go ahead."</p> - -<p>So Phil told him what he had seen through the quarter-darkened window. -He found himself ashamedly admitting under the analyst's expert -rein-twitching how he had long used his own window as an observation -post, and when he got to describing the hallucination itself he found -himself trembling with restimulated terror, but he did finally get it -all out.</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka seemed as delighted as if he had been presented with a -rare object of art. "Beautiful!" he commented. "I have seldom heard so -magnificent a symbol for the murky sexual longings of this culture. -A satyress, or satyrette, prepared to inflict both love and savage -stampings. Mary would be enraptured with it, I'm sure, and insist -on making one of her dolls in its image." He sighed aesthetically, -then recalled himself. "But, of course, Phil, I can't expect you to -be interested just now in the artistic product of your unconscious -creativity. You want to know about causes, sources. Tell me, have you -ever seen a horse?"</p> - -<p>"Once in a circus," Phil admitted.</p> - -<p>"Greek mythology is one of your interests?"</p> - -<p>"Not that I know of."</p> - -<p>"Recall seeing that TV show <i>A Coltish Girl</i> or the musical sexedy <i>The -Horsy Set</i> or the ancient film <i>Fantasia</i>?"</p> - -<p>Phil shook his head. The analyst nodded thoughtfully. "You say the fur -was distributed over the torso like a clinging, off-the-bosom chemise? -And that the legs went straight down, like rods, to end in hoofs?"</p> - -<p>"Not exactly," Phil corrected and went on to describe the little heel -bumps of the fetlocks and the slim pseudo-wrists of the pasterns.</p> - -<p>"But otherwise she was formed exactly like a normal girl?—except for -the faun ears?"</p> - -<p>"No," Phil said frowningly after a moment. "Her thighs were a bit heavy -and powerful looking, as if made for galloping long distances. Her arms -were sort of long, though it didn't occur to me then. And the upper -part of her body was thrown forward a bit, if you know what I mean, and -it was balanced by quite a little rump. But not what you'd call hippy."</p> - -<p>"Magnificent!" the analyst crowed. "Phil, you not only have equipped -your vision with accurate horse-legs, but you have made some of the -necessary compensations in the rest of the anatomy that such a mode -of locomotion would involve in a biped." He sat there beaming a bit -vacantly, as if lost in admiration for the creative powers of the -all-resourceful unconscious.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but what does it indicate about my mind?" Phil asked. He would -have felt annoyed if he had not been so anxious. "What's wrong with me?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka shook off his reverie with a smile that begged pardon -for it. "What's wrong with America?" he asked wryly. "It's much too -early for me to arrive at any conclusions, Phil, or rather to help you -arrive at your own. Of course, the visual projection created by your -unconscious has some interesting references."</p> - -<p>"What are they?" Phil asked. "I may not have made it clear, but I'm -worried about this. I can't get it out of my mind."</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka smiled, shrugged. "Perhaps a spot of interpreting would -relieve you," he agreed. "Though you must remember it's just impromptu -analysis, may be quite wrong. Here goes. The first things that come to -mind are such elements as dread of sexual experience and the attempt -to invest it with terror, effort to feminize yourself by conceiving a -savagely-hoofed love object, an attempt to link sex with a trampling -and punishing beast, perhaps as self-punishment for your voyeurism—all -of these fitting in nicely with the classical mythology about the -nymphs and their natural love companions the goat-hoofed satyrs—also -the horse-hoofed centaurs, who were frequently, you may remember, -teachers of men." The analyst frowned. "It's barely possible you were -visually projecting the desire to be taught about love. However," he -went on, "I imagine that as usual the hidden significances are the -more important ones. May I make a spot guess about you?"</p> - -<p>Phil nodded.</p> - -<p>"Are you a white-collar worker in close competition with robots?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Phil said, astonished.</p> - -<p>"Hardly a brilliant deduction," the analyst deprecated, but his eyes -beamed. "In that case we must suspect another mythological ingredient. -Do you know the Pandora story? There's a special point about it. She -was not an ordinary girl sent by the gods to bring mankind a box -containing all ills. No, she was a metal maiden, forged by Hephaestus -at the command of Zeus. In other words, an automaton, a robot—bringing -in this case the ills of the Second Industrial Revolution caused by the -introduction of electronic calculators and sensers."</p> - -<p>"But did Pandora have hoofs?" Phil said doubtfully.</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka waved away the objection. "Your unconscious probably fused -in the Arabian legend of the clockwork horse. The unconscious is very -artistic about these things, Phil. If you realized just how artistic, -how fertilely creative, you wouldn't be worried."</p> - -<p>"But how does all this tie in with sex?" Phil asked.</p> - -<p>The analyst shrugged. "Must it? A visual projection, like a dream, can -mean a thousand things. I warned you this was just impromptu analysis. -We've carried it about as far as we can."</p> - -<p>"Look," Phil said hesitantly after a pause. "There's a lot to the -things you said, and some of them really pushed buttons in my mind. -But—I hope you won't object—there's one thing that's still bothering -me."</p> - -<p>"Go right ahead."</p> - -<p>Phil became even more diffident. Finally he said with difficulty, -"Look, doctor, is there any chance that what I saw could be real in any -way? Any chance at all?"</p> - -<p>The analyst chuckled mellowly. "Not one in the world," he said with -complete conviction. "What's been bothering you, Phil? Did you believe -that the Greek gods and their creatures might have been materialized in -some way?"</p> - -<p>"Something like that, I guess," Phil said without conviction.</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka leaned toward him, resting an elbow on the curving desk. -"If you had any idea of half the things people tell me across this -desk, normal neurotic people I mean, you wouldn't be so much impressed -by your own experience. There's a woman, for instance, who keeps seeing -shimmery moon-spiders in dark corners. There's a man who is always -getting glimpses of a girl dressed in skin-tight mink that covers her -face, too. And there's another fellow who keeps waking up in the middle -of the night with the absolute conviction that he's in bed with—no, I -shouldn't tell you that one."</p> - -<p>"But I actually seemed to see it," Phil persisted stubbornly. "It -wasn't just a glimpse or shadows."</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka smiled. "How many people have seen flying saucers, Phil? -Including astronomers and atomic scientists. How many people have -seen Russian soldiers or Russian homing missiles nosing around their -bedroom windows? And how many people thought they saw Roosevelt—and -thought they walked and talked with him—the day of the Great Panic in -Atom War Two? Besides all that, Phil, there were shadows: you said the -polarizing window wasn't at maximum transparency. Also, you've been -overdosing yourself with sleeping pills—you admit it—and they can do -funny things. As for the hoofs, well, have you ever thought how high -heels are really cruel little hoofs? Anyone who's seen ladies fight -will confirm this. And the girl's hair-do, her suit splotched like a -piebald horse, the remembered sound of the tap-dancing—don't you see -how your unconscious could weave those things and a thousand more into -an image that in your strained condition you were all too ready to -accept?"</p> - -<p>"I guess I do," Phil said finally, feeling considerable relief. Not for -long, though.</p> - -<p>"But there's one other thing," he said, sitting up suddenly. "The thing -I thought I saw this afternoon. A lot more real than the satyrette -even. I thought I was with it for an hour. Even touched it and fed it."</p> - -<p>"What other thing?" the analyst asked gently, with just the hint of a -tolerant laugh.</p> - -<p>"The green cat," Phil said.</p> - -<p>When the analyst didn't answer, Phil looked around. Dr. Anton Romadka -was simply staring at him. The four scratches and the dried trickles of -blood on his left cheek stood out much more sharply, as if he had grown -pale.</p> - -<p>"I said the green cat," Phil said.</p> - -<p>"The green cat?" The analyst's voice was a distant echo of itself.</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Umm," the analyst observed hollowly and sank farther down into his -chair, almost as if he were reaching for something with his toe.</p> - -<p>Something beeped musically. The analyst snatched up the phone. His face -instantly assumed a fierce expression. He said, with pregnant pauses -during which he scowled, "Yes ... No, I can't. I can't possibly, I tell -you.... You couldn't do that; you'd be arrested.... Very well then, but -only for five minutes. Five minutes, do you hear? I'll be waiting."</p> - -<p>He replaced the phone and looked around at Phil with a despair that -his baldness and big eyes turned comical. "This is most embarrassing," -he said. "A former patient insists on seeing me at once, threatens to -cause a disturbance downstairs if I won't. She would, too. We had some -fine fracases before she broke off the analysis. I have no other course -but to see her. I know how to pacify her temporarily, enough to get her -home."</p> - -<p>"I'd better go," Phil said, rising.</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't hear of it," Dr. Romadka protested. "I want to go much deeper -into your case this evening. That last thing you mentioned—it opened -vistas! No, you just wait for five minutes in the next room, ten at the -most, and I'll have her out of here."</p> - -<p>"I do think I'd better go, though," Phil said, "if you don't mind."</p> - -<p>"Quite impossible," Dr. Romadka pronounced, taking a firm hold of his -arm. "She's passionately jealous of all my other patients and would be -sure to attack you the instant you stepped out of the elevator. Did -I tell you she carries a gold squirt gun filled with sulphuric acid? -That's one of her cuter tricks. The only other way out is the service -chute, and that's hardly for human use. No," he said, guiding Phil -through a door beyond the arch but not entering himself, "you just stay -in here for five minutes or so. There's plenty to read, to glance -over and listen to—not that you'll have much time. Trust me, Phil. -Everything's under control."</p> - -<p>The door shut. One fleeting glance around showed shelves of books, -racks of vocal booktapes, a divan, a central table and a large mirror -set in the ceiling. Then Phil remembered he had left his cigarettes on -the desk. He punched the door button. Nothing happened. He punched it -again.</p> - -<p>There still hadn't been time for Dr. Romadka to have taken five steps -away from the other side. He started to hammer on the wall.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Romadka," he called. "Dr. Romadka!"</p> - -<p>The lights went out.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>V</h2> - - -<p>Phil stopped pounding on the wall and the black silence closed around -him drowningly, stranglingly, like a preview of the mental hospital -cell and electrosleep to which, he was suddenly sure, Dr. Romadka -intended to consign him on a psychiatrist's writ. In the thick darkness -he heard his heart pounding. His rapid breathing was for a moment that -of an animal.</p> - -<p>He wondered helplessly why the analyst, after taking his satyrette -hallucination so lightly, should have instantly typed him as a -dangerous lunatic at his mention of a green cat. Psychologists, he -supposed, knew things about the mind's secret language that were never -told to ordinary people: seemingly innocent symbols that stamped -men as cowards, rapists, murderers, traitors, crypto-communists, -non-conformists. A fragment of conversation he'd heard somewhere came -back to him: "Of course as soon as he saw <i>that</i> in the inkblot, they -hustled him off."</p> - -<p>There was a sharp click. He started and looked up. A tiny line of light -appeared in the ceiling, widened, and then became an oblong spilling -radiance on the central table below, but leaving the rest of the room -dark. He realized that the mirror he'd noticed had been slid out of -the way. He couldn't see much of the room above except some microfilm -files and part of a TV reading machine of the sort that could use -micro-libraries all over America. No human figures were visible from -where he stood and he felt no desire to step forward into the revealing -light. He wondered, with a certain incredulous pride, whether he was -so dangerous a type that they intended to fish for him with nets. Just -then a foot was dangled over the oblong's edge.</p> - -<p>It was a charming foot, slim and clad in the most shimmeringly -expensive sort of digital stocking, which gave each toe its separate -translucent compartment. Running back from between the toes were four -black velvet thongs, which helped attach the airy black shoe and -gave it an exciting though spidery appearance. The foot was joined -to a narrow ankle and gently swelling calf which hardly needed the -stocking's glamorizing. That was all of the figure he could see at -the moment, but the moment didn't last long. The foot was followed by -a second and shortly by all the rest of the girl. She hung briefly, -facing away from him. He got a quick impression of a short black -evening frock; a black shoulder cape; long, dark hair cascading free -and white arms in black gloves that began above the elbows and ended at -the knuckles.</p> - -<p>His foot, shifting on the foam carpeting, made a tiny noise. Instantly -she whirled on him like a black panther, complete even to the shrill -snarl. As she did, Phil was rocked by two surprises: the first, -revealed when her short cape spun out, that her evening frock was off -the bosom, a style he had thought and read about a great deal, but -that was not followed at his social level; the second, and far more -attention getting, that the fingers of her right hand were tipped with -clawed, silver thimbles, while in her left she held ten gleaming inches -of that most disturbing anachronism, a knife. Poised like a fencer, she -waggled it rapidly under his chin.</p> - -<p>"Did my father set you to spy on me?" she demanded. The "set" and "spy" -were sheer hiss.</p> - -<p>"No," he replied chokingly, not wanting his Adam's apple to protrude.</p> - -<p>"Then why are you here," she demanded, advancing the knife a bit, -"lurking in the dark?"</p> - -<p>"Your father locked me in," he protested, leaning backward.</p> - -<p>"Ishtar! Is he doing that to his patients, too?" she commented. Her -accents were a bit incredulous, but she did drop the knife to an easy, -on guard position, which also caused her cape to fall around her -modestly.</p> - -<p>"Locked me in and turned off the lights," Phil reaffirmed.</p> - -<p>She slitted her long-lashed eyes thoughtfully. "I can almost believe -the first part of that," she said. "He often sends his patients in here -for observation."</p> - -<p>"Observation?"</p> - -<p>She jerked a silver-fanged thumb at the ceiling. "That mirror's -transparent from above. He likes to watch what his patients do when -they think they're alone, either singly or by couples. Olympian voyeur! -Well, I marked him tonight." And she flashed the claws, which were -faintly stained with reddish brown.</p> - -<p>Phil felt a little sick but took the opportunity to ask, "If that -mirror's transparent from above, why didn't you see me when he locked -me in here?"</p> - -<p>"He always shuts the mirror off when he's not using it," she said, -"and I was interested in opening it, not seeing through it. I only -discovered the trick of the fastenings a half-minute ago. Father -probably doesn't even know it can be opened. Although well equipped -with the nastier psychological skills, he's no mechanic."</p> - -<p>"Well, you seem to be skillful at things all around," said Phil. -"Fencing and that."</p> - -<p>She thoughtfully licked the center of her upper lip with the tip of her -tongue. "You're kind of likable in a feeble way," she said. "Why did he -lock you in here anyhow? Too interested in sex? I thought he encouraged -that in his patients and only tried to forbid it to his darling -daughter."</p> - -<p>As Phil searched for a suitable way to phrase a denial or confirmation, -her dark eyes grew speculative. "Say," she said, "how about you and -me?" She paused, then decisively whipped down the knife, so that it -stuck quivering in the floor. She advanced toward Phil. "Yes, you and -me."</p> - -<p>"Your father'll be back any minute," Phil protested agitatedly.</p> - -<p>"True, and I'll so enjoy seeing his face." She lifted her arms. "See -how beautiful I am. Look at them. Like two rose buds."</p> - -<p>She was very beautiful indeed. Nevertheless, Phil froze. She bared her -teeth and struck at his cheek with her clawed hand, but at the last -moment turned the blow to a contemptuous pat.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry," she said. "I know my glamor is a sort that terrifies -weaklings. Besides, the raven does not mate with the rabbit. And I -only wanted to do it to spite Father. Why did he lock you in? You seem -completely puerile."</p> - -<p>"I just mentioned something about a green cat," Phil said with a -certain huffiness.</p> - -<p>She rolled her eyes. "Tammuz! And just after encouraging the Akeleys in -their Bast worship. The man's so erratic I sometimes think he must be a -crypto-communist with his cover personalities jumbled."</p> - -<p>"Of course he did say something about my waiting here while he got rid -of a violent ex-patient who carries around a—"</p> - -<p>"That gold squirt gun story," she interrupted, "is his pet dodge for -getting rid of patients."</p> - -<p>"He doesn't seem to want to get rid of me."</p> - -<p>"No," she agreed cheerfully, jerking her knife out of the floor, "he -seems to want to keep you."</p> - -<p>"I think he wants to send me to a mental hospital," Phil ventured, -rather hoping to be disagreed with, but she merely nodded.</p> - -<p>"I don't envy you," she added, inserting the knife in a sheath in her -skirt. "Father favors old-fashioned treatments like convulsive therapy -and simulated snake pits. Well, if the assistant torturers are on their -way, I'd better be on mine." She took three quick steps, then looked -back at him coldly, thinning her lips. "Care to come along?" she asked. -"Not that I like you even faintly—I detest men; I'm seething with what -my grandmother would have called masculine protest—but I always enjoy -frustrating Father."</p> - -<p>Phil had an acute sense of a lady-or-the-doctor dilemma, but he lost no -time saying, "Yes."</p> - -<p>She nodded once and headed for the back of the room. "Will you try for -the elevator?" he ventured to ask.</p> - -<p>"Of course not!" she snapped at him.</p> - -<p>"But he said the only other way—" Phil began.</p> - -<p>"Sshh!" she hissed and punched a door button.</p> - -<p>The wall kept blank. "So it's on code," she said. "I might have -known." And she punched the button in a rapid rhythm. The wall kept on -blank. "Oh, oh, the special code, the one I'm not supposed to know." -She looked round at Phil. "You must be important," she sniffed. She -punched the button in another rhythm. This time, rather to Phil's -surprise, the wall parted obediently. He followed her into a gleaming -kitchen, complete with glassed in shelves of gamma-sterilized steaks -and vegetables, freezer, radionic oven, shadowed mushroom bed and small -microbe tank for home-cultured appetizers. Phil's eyes bugged at the -latter two luxuries, but it did occur to him to say, "What about that -mirror you left open? Mightn't your father come in upstairs and see I'm -gone?"</p> - -<p>"Not tonight after what I gave him. Now stop making old maidish -remarks." She was standing in front of a vertical cylinder that half -protruded from the wall, and was busy once more with her button -punching. A tiny green light flashed up a tall column of studs like a -skyrocket. "Get the hassock from the library. Quick!"</p> - -<p>When Phil hurried back lugging the foot-high cylinder of foam rubber, -a doorway about as big as a midget was open in the cylinder. "Put it -inside on the platform," she directed, "on top of all the straps and -stuff. They're just for packages. That's right. Now get inside and -squat on it. Reach down your hands on either side of the hassock and -take hold of the clamps. Keep a firm grip, because it drops a bit -faster than free-fall and you wouldn't want to be left behind squatting -on nothing. And squat up straight or you'll get your head rubbed off!"</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute," said Phil, withdrawing a foot he had gingerly inserted -in the doorway, "Do you—"</p> - -<p>"I have to go last, because I know how to work the button when I'm -inside. Hurry up."</p> - -<p>"But this is the service chute, isn't it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Did you expect Nubian slaves to carry you down a spiral ramp? Later -on you can persuade Father to buy me a copter if you want to."</p> - -<p>"You mean," he quavered, "that you think I'm going to fall down that -chute on a little platform without sides?"</p> - -<p>She jerked the knife from her skirt. "I think you're going to do that -or else you're going to let me lock you back in the library."</p> - -<p>Stepping back from the knife, Phil sat down suddenly on the platform, -cracking the top of his head on the doorway, and then slowly drew in -his legs and assumed the position of the Anxious Buddha. "You didn't -have to rush me," he said with some dignity.</p> - -<p>"I'm sending you to the first basement," she told him in clipped tones. -"I'll give you five seconds to get out. I think the door'll be open -there. If not, you'll have to come up again, and hope it's me that gets -you and not some other floor. Now don't worry," she told him as she -slid the door shut, "I've done this a dozen times myself—or at least -thought of doing it."</p> - -<p>In the darkness Phil's spine stiffened to condensed steel and his hands -clutching the clamps became those of a gorilla. He had time to think -that if only Lucky were with him, tucked inside his jacket....</p> - -<p>The platform was jerked down from under him, dragging him along. His -stomach rapidly scrambled over his heart and nestled just below his -Adam's apple. A giant snake hissed and he was acutely conscious of -being inches from death by friction on every side. Then, just as he -figured he'd got a really firm grip on the clamps, he distinctly felt -the platform through the hassock, his heels cut into his rump, his -vertebrae cut into his intervertebral disks, and various things inside -him jarred loose.</p> - -<p>He was staring groggily into a dimly lit and empty room. Time was -passing, it occurred to him. He dove out onto the floor, while behind -him the platform took off with a hearty <i>whish</i>. By the time he had -dragged himself to a sitting position and taken a few breaths there -was a gust of air from the chute and a <i>zing</i> as the platform came to -a stop. Miss Romadka sprang out nimbly and curtsied to an imaginary -audience.</p> - -<p>"You never did that before?" he asked her glumly.</p> - -<p>"Of course I have, but I knew if I said I hadn't you'd take it more -seriously." She tweaked him by the nearest ear. "Come on, you're not -out of Father's clutches yet."</p> - -<p>Almost to his disappointment, he found he could scramble to his feet -and follow her. He almost felt calm. "How did you push the button from -the inside, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>"Just taped it down, jumped in and shut the door. The platform won't -move if any of the upper-floor doors are open."</p> - -<p>"What's your name, by the way?"</p> - -<p>"Mitzie," she told him. "Mitzie Romadka."</p> - -<p>"Mine's Phil," he said. "Phil Gish."</p> - -<p>She led him into a shadowy garage, lined with ornate cars in stalls -barred like prison cells. Several of the cars had recharging cables -plugged in. He saw a ramp ahead that led upward. Mitzie coded open the -barrier in front of a small black coupe without a hint of decor.</p> - -<p>"Innocent looking little job, isn't it?" she remarked. "Used to belong -to an undertaker." She hopped in. When, with a sad shrug, Phil followed -her, he was hardly surprised to find she had donned a full-length black -evening-mask. "It's not my car," she explained. "I'm just hiding it for -Carstairs and the gang. It's hot."</p> - -<p>And with that reassuring remark she guided it out toward the ramp, its -small electric motor whining faintly. A door rose at her voice. Then -they were outside in the ghostly yellow evening of the sodium mirror. -When they had climbed almost to ground level, a big car slammed to a -stop in the street ahead, three-quarters blocking the exit. Two men -jumped out of the car and someone, of whom Phil could for the moment -see only waddling legs and chubby tummy, hurried to meet them.</p> - -<p>"Look, if this is another tame-chicken chase—" he heard the first of -the two men from the car begin in heavy skeptical tones.</p> - -<p>"Don't be absurd," the hurrier asserted crisply in a voice Phil -recognized as Dr. Romadka's. "I tell you, he mentioned the green cat."</p> - -<p>At that moment the analyst looked around and saw Phil gawking at him.</p> - -<p>"There he goes now!"</p> - -<p>The analyst's outraged squeal turned to the rasp of plastics as Mitzie -bullied the small black car between the ramp-wall and the newcomer. -With the twang of hooked bumpers parting, they swung out into the -street, the little electric accelerating modestly. Phil looked over his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"They've got back in," he told Mitzie. "They're turning around."</p> - -<p>"Like I said, you're important," she murmured through her mask, still -incredulously. "Well, here goes," and she abruptly nosed the car toward -the narrow mouth of a ramp leading downward.</p> - -<p>"Hey, that's marked 'Exit Only,'" Phil yiped at her.</p> - -<p>"That's why I'm using it," she informed him curtly.</p> - -<p>He closed his eyes as the car tilted sharply down, but the gods of -probability seemed inclined to grant boons tonight. When the car -leveled out, Phil opened his eyes to the brighter, nearer, fog-light -sodium yellow of the under level. They were moving ahead smartly. Once -more Phil looked back.</p> - -<p>"They've come down after us," he said with wonder perhaps a trifle -mixed with pride.</p> - -<p>"Really important," Mitzie muttered, shaking her head. "Well, this -little mouse was never meant to outrace that rhino. Prepare for -acceleration, and hope the cars at the next ten intersections are -stacked right."</p> - -<p>Phil felt himself crunched into the foam rubber he had his chin on. -There was a red glow just behind them. The pursuing car shrank rapidly -in size. Twisting himself around with difficulty, he noted that the -sodium lights had become a molten yellow ribbon. Their car flew past -the hood of a truck entering from a side street, though their speed -made it appear to be standing still. Some blocks ahead they shot -between two cars which also seemed frozen. The red glow died. They -sailed up another "Exit Only" ramp into the spectral yellow night. -Proceeding at a speed that soon became reasonable, they turned four -successive corners.</p> - -<p>"That should do it," Mitzie said with professional nonchalance. Phil -nodded his slumped head.</p> - -<p>"Carstairs put in the rocket assist yesterday," she explained. "He -wasn't altogether sure he had it lined up right. Neat little trick, -isn't it? A great comfort when you've just knocked over a fat -sales-robot, say, and have three cop cars converging and maybe a cop -copter up above. Beats a smoke screen all hollow. You'll see."</p> - -<p>"I have," Phil assured her with a rather absent minded shiver.</p> - -<p>"That was nothing," she said scornfully. "I mean when you've really -pulled a job and they're closing in. That's the big thrill. You'll see, -I tell you. You know, Phil, I sort of like you. You're so darn scared -and innocent, yet you play along. I'm sure I can persuade Carstairs to -let you join the gang."</p> - -<p>Phil shivered again, but with even less of his mind on it. Neither -Mitzie Romadka's criminal pastimes nor her sudden friendliness could -hold his attention. Staring out frowningly at the jaundiced street, he -was thinking of Lucky and of the way he had felt when Lucky was with -him.</p> - -<p>He jerked awake. "What is this green cat, anyhow?" Mitzie was asking -with an indifference that her mask intensified. "A carved emerald or -the password in a secret society?"</p> - -<p>Phil shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Well, let's forget it then," Mitzie was saying, "and have some fun." -She speeded up again to the electric's unassisted limit and ran through -a stop light which yipped protestingly. Her eyes gleamed wickedly in -their circles of black lace. Her breathing grew quicker, her voice -lighter. "Carstairs has a bunch of sales-robots lined up. Got their -after theater routes cased to a hair. We can ram 'em and gut 'em, one, -two, ten! Jump for the curb, sisters!"</p> - -<p>This last exuberant remark was directed at two cloaked women on -glittering platforms, and it was accompanied by a vicious swerve of -the car toward them. They made it, just, and tumbled on their knees, -shrieking. Mitzie cooed happily.</p> - -<p>Like someone waking from a dream, Phil said sharply, "No! I don't want -any part of it!" He went on, "You can drop me at 3010 Opperly Avenue, -top level."</p> - -<p>She looked at him curiously for a change, even with surprise. "All -right," she said after a bit, "I'll do it, if only because I got such a -kick out of the look on your face when I shut the door of the chute." -She spun the car illegally in a tight U-turn. She said harshly, not -looking at Phil, "I never hot rod at old people, you know. They don't -have enough hormones to make it fun. Those two girls were real funnies."</p> - -<p>Phil made no comment. They sped for a while in silence. Then he became -vaguely aware that Mitzie was stealing glances at him.</p> - -<p>"If you should manage to cook up a little nerve and change your mind," -she said angrily, "you might possibly find us at the Tan Jet much later -tonight."</p> - -<p>He still made no comment. She went on softly, "Night's the only time, -you know, at least in this century. Night in the city. I love the pale -yellow streets and the bright yellow tunnels. They've taken the jungles -away from us, the high seas and the highways, even space and the air. -They've abolished half of the night. They've tried to steal danger. -But we've found it again in the city; we who've got nerve and hate the -sheep!</p> - -<p>"Well, here's your 3010 Opperly," she said, jerking the car to a stop. -Phil opened the door and started out. Only then did Mitzie seem to -see the bright marquee and realize that the address was that of Fun -Incorporated's wrestling center. She thrust herself across the seat as -he reached the curb and turned to shut the door.</p> - -<p>"So this is what you were looking for!" she yelled at him, her suddenly -passionate voice making her mask puff away from and then huff to her -mouth. "You turn me down, you sniff at my friends and my ways, you're -above violence and sex, and all the while you're planning to satisfy -yourself vicariously, watching male-female!" For an instant before -she slammed the door in his face, lightning seemed to shoot out of -the lace-shirred eyeholes of the black mask. "At least I make my own -thrills, you rotten little virgin!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>VI</h2> - - -<p>The crowd pouring down the corridor squeezed out of Phil his wincing -recollection of Mitzie's last crack. He slithered his way along the -wall, rubbed by shoulder and hip, trodden by heel and toe, set coughing -by gray-blue clouds of tobacco, weed, and so-called Venus weed, and -regaled by such remarks as, "Aaha, he could of thrown her any time he -wanted to," and "What I don't like are those dumb women referees!"</p> - -<p>Phil finally wedged his way into an eddy of the crowd near a side -corridor. He unhopefully gasped, "Juno Jones." Old Rubberarm whispered -throatily, "Come right in, Mack," and narrowly arched his gray arm to -let Phil duck through at that point, meanwhile bracing his slaty length -against a general surge of the crowd and whipping back the tentacle-end -of his arm to stop a gent in brown with tennis-ball eyes who tried to -duck in after Phil.</p> - -<p>Phil wiped his forehead and took a deep breath. He felt a little -giddy standing just by himself. A woman came out of the door ahead. -She was dressed with an aggressive dowdiness: shapeless long frock, -button shoes, wide brimmed, flower covered hat, fur neckpiece and -gloves. She looked like somebody's scrubwoman from past times out on a -half-holiday. He didn't realize who it was until the crowd behind him -began to cheer and to chant, "Juno! Juno!"</p> - -<p>She waved to them, but her eyes were on Phil.</p> - -<p>"Gosh, I'm glad to see you," she said, grabbing his elbow. Then she -whispered, "Don't ask questions. Come with me."</p> - -<p>The next moment she was hurrying him down the corridor away from the -crowd.</p> - -<p>The chanting of the crowd became disappointed and a bit sore. A shrill -voice skirled over it: "Whatcha goin' off with the little shrimp for?"</p> - -<p>Juno turned around and stood solid. "Listen, you mugs," she bellowed, -and the crowd was silent while a telephoto spot glowed blindingly. "I -know I'm your heroine and it makes me happy, but even I gotta have a -love life! And don't you be insulting it!"</p> - -<p>As the crowd yelped with laughter and started cheering again, Juno -pushed Phil through a door. "I hope you didn't mind my saying that," -she told him. "They're my fans and I gotta humor 'em."</p> - -<p>Phil shook his head a bit dazedly. He had expected her to stop as soon -as they got out of sight of the crowd, but instead she was hurrying him -along a narrow hall.</p> - -<p>"Say, look here, Mister—" she began anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Phil," he told her. "Phil Gish."</p> - -<p>"Well, look, Phil, could I take you to dinner?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," Phil said.</p> - -<p>"Good," she said with relief. Nevertheless she kept peering about, -almost apprehensively, and didn't slacken their pace. "I know a good -steak place. Quiet and they really know how to broil rabbit." They -reached a narrow, shadowy stairway. Juno steered him toward it. He -started up, but she jerked him back. "Not that way, Phil, for gosh -sake," she warned him. "That's straight to Billig and the wasps. This -place I'm telling you about is on the bottom level." And she started -down. "We could take an elevator," she said apologetically, "but this -is better," adding gruffly, "more private."</p> - -<p>At the bottom of the stairs a narrow door led directly into a long -dark room with a counter along one side and a row of booths along the -other. With its browned chrome finishes it had to date back to 1960. -The customers were mostly big men, seemingly evenly divided between -truck-drivers, police, and a less definable category. There was an -elevator door next to the one they'd come out of. Juno wagged her big -hand at a couple of people and shouted to someone, "Whiskey and chops, -and make sure you burn the edges. What'll you have, Phil?"</p> - -<p>He realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday and mumbled something about -a yeast sandwich and a glass of soybean milk. She looked at him, but -passed on his order without a comment, then took him in tow once more. -She had to answer a few familiar greetings, but she didn't spend much -time on them and seemed relieved when she'd plunked Phil down in the -booth nearest the front door, where the rumble of trucks was loudest -and their headlights, mixed with the sodium glow, flashed on the -scratched and dusty plastic. But there were, for a wonder, no jukeboxes -or radios of any sort in the place. He also saw that the pushbuttons -on the wall were labeled for out of date synthetic foods and had taped -over them an "Out of Order" sign that must have been twenty years old -itself.</p> - -<p>He studied his companion across the table and realized for the first -time that she looked dead beat. His glance began to trace on her large -jaw the outlines of a recent bruise that was only partly concealed by -hastily applied makeup. She dove into her pocketbook with a shy girl's -flusteredness and started to dab at her jaw with a powder-puff, but -then gave up, put back the puff and slumped forward, her meaty elbows -on the plastic.</p> - -<p>"Don't ever let 'em tell you the bouts are fixed," she assured him -glumly. "Zubek bust a gut trying to get me tonight."</p> - -<p>"You won?" Phil inquired.</p> - -<p>"Oh, sure. Two falls, a spaceship spin and a free-fall—that means when -you throw 'em up and out and they don't come back."</p> - -<p>A tray came sliding along the bar. Juno went over and got it before -Phil realized that it was for them. From the speed with which the -order had been filled, he decided they still had radionic cooking in -the place. Juno's seared rabbit chops were as big as small steaks—it -must have been an octoploid bunny, at the least—while her whiskey -was intimidatingly huge and brown. He nibbled his yeast sandwich and -found it seemingly okay, though it always made him a bit uneasy to eat -restaurant food that didn't pop out of a wall.</p> - -<p>As Juno munched her chops and drank her whiskey, she told Phil snatches -of the story of her life. It turned out she was a farm girl who had -come to the city young and suffered the usual disillusionments. "How's -a girl going to get ahead these days," she asked Phil, "especially -a dumb ox like me? Not that I didn't have a swell figure, but even -then I was too big and strong. I scared the men I knew and I didn't -know then the ones who would have liked what I had. So I tried scrub -mothering for a while—you know, birthing babies for wealthy dames -who didn't want to carry them the nine months themselves—but I knew -there was no future in that. Ten years or so and I'd be sweeping up -after some sweeping robot and trying to make throwaway paper dresses -last a month. So I remembered how I could pin nine out of ten boys -back home, and I entered some amateur wrestling contests and pretty -soon they were grooming me for a pro." She shook her head dourly. -"You should have seen my figure; it really was beautiful before they -put me on hormones." She distastefully inspected her big hands, still -white gloved though now gravy stained. "Even used pituitrin on me, the -bastards." She sighed and shrugged. By now she had reduced her chops -to bones and was working on her second whiskey. "So that's the way it -was, Phil. Of course, I had to go and fall in love with a wrestler -and marry the little skunk—most of the girls in the business make -that mistake—but at least I eat rabbit, even beef, and a lot of dopes -respect me."</p> - -<p>Phil nodded eagerly. "You've made a place for yourself. Security."</p> - -<p>"Are you kidding?" she asked. "Five years and I'll be through, ten at -the outside if I get to be a character." She shook her head and leaned -forward. "Actually it's much worse than that. Male-female's almost -finished. Government's going to crack down."</p> - -<p>"They always say that," Phil reassured her with timid cheeriness, "and -it never happens."</p> - -<p>She shrugged fatalistically. "This time it will."</p> - -<p>"I heard the president talking about something like that tonight," Phil -said, "but he sounded drunk."</p> - -<p>She shrugged.</p> - -<p>"But Fun Incorporated is supposed to have all sorts of connections with -the government," Phil continued to object.</p> - -<p>She smiled oddly. "You're right. The best connections any syndicate -ever had. Just the same, they're finished. Moe's been worried for -weeks, worried bad. I can tell."</p> - -<p>"Moe?"</p> - -<p>"Moe Brimstine. You saw him for a minute this afternoon."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," Phil said, getting a vivid memory flash of the door-filling, -dark jowled hulk, and then went on with a little laugh, "You know, it -startled me when his voice was the same as Old Rubberarm's. He seemed -too important a man to be a door-tender."</p> - -<p>"I'll say he is!" she exclaimed, the boom returning to her voice for a -moment. "You didn't actually think, Phil, did you, that he spent his -time peeking through a one-way peephole and working that spring-rubber -dingus? And would I be calling him a dumb robot? He just used his own -voice to record Old Rubberarm's questions and answers. He gets a kick -out of things like that." She lifted her heavy eyebrows. "Don't you -know who Moe Brimstine is?"</p> - -<p>Phil shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Where you been all your life? 'Scuse me, Phil, but Moe Brimstine -is ... why, he's on top of the syndicate, right next to Mr. Billig -himself!"</p> - -<p>When Phil didn't recognize the second name either, she quit trying. -"Well, anyway, Phil," she said in her friendly, quiet voice, "there's -Moe Brimstine, practically the boss of Fun Incorporated, which runs -wrestling and amusement centers, all sales-robots, jukebox burlesque, -and a lot of other things they don't talk so much about. And he's -worried, real worried. Now I know Moe. He don't worry about nothing -but the syndicate. So things must be real bad." She paused, then added -cryptically, but with a sort of personal gloominess, "Lots of things -are real bad."</p> - -<p>Phil nodded. There was a silence.</p> - -<p>"Say, Phil," she finally said huskily, watching her big, gravy stained -finger rub her near-empty glass. "That really was a—whadya call -it?—delusion, wasn't it, this afternoon when you was talking about a -green cat?"</p> - -<p>"I thought so then," Phil said softly. "Now I'm not sure."</p> - -<p>She let out a big breath and looked up at him. "You know," she said -with sudden warmth, "neither am I. Say Phil, how valuable is that cat, -anyway, if there is a cat. Could it be worth $10,000?"</p> - -<p>Phil felt his eyes bug at the same instant he was thinking that Lucky's -worth could never be measured in money. "$10,000?" he murmured. "I -haven't the faintest idea. What made you think of that figure?"</p> - -<p>"Well," Juno said slowly, "after the Akeleys—muck 'em!—had left this -afternoon, Jack came in to me and started talking again about how dumb -I was about you. Only this time it wasn't because I had let you in, -but because I'd let you go. He says to me, 'You're dumb, Juno, you're -deductively dopey. You don't recognize opportunity. Now I'm in a -position to make $10,000 out of that little squirt, only I'm not going -to do it, at least not right away,' he says, 'because there are higher -things, Juno, there are higher things.'" And she rolled her eyes as if -she were in the ring and approaching her spouse in his character of -Swish Jack Jones, the Lady Killer.</p> - -<p>"Well, anyway," she went on after a moment in a less outraged voice, -"I didn't wonder too much about that at the time, 'cause he's always -trying to needle me that way since he met Sashy (Jack hates me to call -him that) Akeley. But then, just after I get out of the ring tonight, -Moe Brimstine starts pumping me about a green cat. Seems he'd been -playing through Old Rubberarm's recordings of his conversations for -the afternoon, and I'd talked about a green cat when I was talking -to you. He pretended it was what you call idle curiosity, but that's -something Moe Brimstine's got nothing of. Course I told him you were -just a harmless nut with cats in your bonnet, but he didn't seem -satisfied." She looked at Phil puzzledly. "You did think you were a nut -this afternoon, didn't you? You didn't believe in any green cat then—I -mean, after we'd argued you out of it?"</p> - -<p>Phil had to nod.</p> - -<p>"But now you've changed your mind?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have. You see, I finally took your husband's advice and went to -see the analyst."</p> - -<p>"That lousy psycher the Akeleys put him onto!" she snorted.</p> - -<p>Phil sketched the essentials of his episode with Dr. Romadka. When he -had finished, Juno burst out, "I get it all right. If he locks you up -and calls in some hoods and they demagnetize the law tape chasing you, -then that green cat's no weed dream, brother!"</p> - -<p>"They didn't look like hoodlums," Phil objected doubtfully. "Besides, -Miss Romadka didn't seem to think the green cat was important."</p> - -<p>"That sexy little she-punk!" Juno dismissed Mitzie contemptuously.</p> - -<p>Phil was startled—he hadn't realized he'd told Juno so much about -Mitzie.</p> - -<p>"Besides," Juno went on conclusively, "Moe's interested in the green -cat, or he wouldn't pump me about it, and anything Moe's interested in -has gotta be real. Oh, the poor little mutt."</p> - -<p>"Who, Moe?" Phil asked confusedly.</p> - -<p>"Course not. I mean Jack, specially after Moe catches up with him and -finds he had that green cat and then didn't deliver." Her brow furrowed -excitedly. "Look, Phil, this is the way I figger it: Moe tells Jack -and some of the other punks, 'Boys, I'm paying $10,000 to anybody who -brings me a green cat.' $10,000 is Moe's favorite figger dealing with -smart jerks like Jack."</p> - -<p>"But why would Moe Brimstine want a green cat?" Phil objected. "Did you -ask him tonight when he was pumping you?"</p> - -<p>"Brother, you don't ask Moe Brimstine anything," Juno assured him.</p> - -<p>"But you do think now that your husband and Cookie stole the green cat -while Old Rubberarm was keeping me out?"</p> - -<p>Juno's look implied he stated the obvious far too often.</p> - -<p>"Has Mr. Brimstine been asking your husband questions?" Phil asked.</p> - -<p>"Jack wasn't billed for tonight," Juno explained. "He went off -somewhere."</p> - -<p>"To the Akeleys'?" Phil asked, a blurred memory nudging at his mind.</p> - -<p>"This isn't the night," Juno said. Her voice became for a moment -bitterly mincing. "They only receive wunct a week! Most likely Jack's -gone off with Cookie somewhere."</p> - -<p>"But if your guess is right about Mr. Brimstine offering $10,000 for a -green cat, and Jack stole the cat, then why hasn't he taken it to him?"</p> - -<p>Juno rolled her head like an angry bull. "Oh, it'd be something those -Akeleys put him up to; something they flattered him into. Maybe they -even got him to give them the cat. They can really twist him."</p> - -<p>Phil felt all at sea again. "But what would the Akeleys want with the -cat?"</p> - -<p>"What do screwballs like that want with anything?" Juno countered. -"What do they want with Jack?" She snuffed and looked at Phil. "Get -one thing straight," she said gruffly, "I love Jack, the little rat. -I've taken a lot from him, but I haven't minded too much. Oh, it hurt -when I found out he thought more of Cookie and those other punks than -he did for me, but I didn't let it show through my skin. After all, -if a man knows you can lick him, I suppose it's bound to affect him. -But when those Akeleys discovered him and began to play up to him and -change him, that was too much for me. They're intelleckchuls, you see, -and they flattered Jack and filled him up with a lot of guff about -how he had a hidden artistic talent and how he was Zeus or some name -like that battling the female principle and so on. Well, he falls -for it, see?—goes into a complete free-fall. Starts to buy reading -tapes, printed books even! Next thing he's insulting me—using a lot -of words I never hardly heard of. Keeps talking about how great Mary -is, with her art and her magic figures or whatever they are, and how -wonderful Sashy is, with his great ideas about understanding and love -and a lot of other junk. Tells me to my face that I'm a dumb bell, a -stupe semantically!" And having done well with that last word, Juno -slugged down the rest of her drink. "Look, Phil," she went on, "I could -fight Cookie and the others, because they're on my level, but I can't -fight intelleckchuls. They're lifting Jack away from me and I can't -do nothing about it. And now they've gone and got him into some real -trouble, I bet, with this green cat business. Because Moe Brimstine -isn't impressed with intelleckchuls or anything." She carefully took -the glass out of her hand and made claws. "If I had the little rat -here," she said, "I'd strangle some sense into him. But until Moe -Brimstine talked to me, I didn't really suspicion anything was wrong, -and now I can't do nothing."</p> - -<p>Phil's blurred memory suddenly came clear. He told Juno about how, -racing to Dr. Romadka's, he had seen Jack, Cookie, Sacheverell, and -Mary driving somewhere in the ancient electric.</p> - -<p>Juno slammed the table with both fists. People looked around. "That -black hearse-box!" She roared. "I should have known it. Tonight's so -important they're receiving special." She jumped up and grabbed Phil -by the wrist, fumbled for her glass, got Phil's instead, recognized it -just before draining the last of the soybean milk, set it down with -a shudder and yanked Phil out of the booth. "Come on," she told him. -"We're going to the Akeleys! To the temple!"</p> - -<p>Opening the doorway leading to the sub-street, Juno had to pause. Phil -got a chance to look back the long length of the bar. As he did, the -elevator door at the far end opened. A fat form filled it. Dark glasses -were twin patches of smut.</p> - -<p>At that moment, Phil got an unannounced demonstration of Juno Jones' -strength. He was lifted off his feet and lightly swung some ten feet -through the doorway into the sub-street roaring and glaring with trucks.</p> - -<p>"That was Moe Brimstine," Phil gasped.</p> - -<p>"I know," Juno told him as she yanked him toward the escalator leading -to higher levels and cab phones. "He didn't see us."</p> - -<p>Phil wasn't so sure.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>VII</h2> - - -<p>The cab had just hummed past Monstro Multi-Products' blindingly bright -basement show windows, behind which a file of dress-display robots -marched in an endless figure eight with considerable realism and oodles -of suede-rubber glamor, when Juno hunched forward and growled to the -driver to stop. She had been silent during most of the ride, as if the -whiskey had gone sour in her, and now when Phil made a move to pay -she impatiently motioned him aside. He hopped out willingly enough, -suddenly eager to see what the Akeley place looked like, as if his -hopes and fears had started rotating again when the wheels of the cab -stopped.</p> - -<p>Juno's reference to "the temple" had half led him to expect Greek -columns or an Egyptian portal. Instead he was facing an oblong of -darkness, framed by the sidewalk, show windows some distance to either -side, and the underpinnings of the two upper streets. He crossed the -sidewalk and hesitated, as if he stood on the edge of nothingness. It -was really very black, even for the bottom level. The sodium moon had -set.</p> - -<p>Then, as the after effects of the show windows' glare lessened, a house -took shape before him—an old, three story house, looking incredibly as -if it were built of wood, with roofs slanting oddly and lights gleaming -faintly through shuttered bay windows and fanciful dusty fanlights. -Something gritted under his foot and he realized that between him and -the house was a yard of real dirt, if not grass and weeds. This must -have been the ground level of the city some hundred years ago. Now -it was the windows of the third story which peered across the gap at -the top-level street far above Phil's head. The gap was at one point -spanned by a beam. Apparently the house was so ancient and ricketty -that it needed props.</p> - -<p>But then a new illusion presented itself. Phil knew that the house -was in the heart of the city, hemmed in by gigantic buildings on -every side. There should have been tiers of lighted windows and, far -overhead, a square of night sky. Instead there was only darkness, as if -the pre-atomic house existed in a private night.</p> - -<p>Then headlights of a turning car in the street two levels above swept -across the upper third of the house, and he saw that all around the -house were surfaces painted a dull, non-reflecting black. The flat -black "ceiling" could hardly be a foot above the top of the house's -highest spire.</p> - -<p>"Some legal business," Juno explained, coming up beside him. "Jack -wunct told me sumpin about it. Seems the original owners couldn't be -rooted out, but the city seized the air-rights and built over them. -Creepy place, looks as if it were about to rot apart—just right for -those Akeleys." Then, more loudly, "Well, I said I was going to bust -in on them, and I am. C'mon."</p> - -<p>Phil followed her across the yard to the ricketty steps leading to the -porch. His hand groping for the rail touched peeling ancient paint. -Halfway up a cat darted past him. For a moment he was swallowing his -heart, then as the cat paused at the top he saw that it was splotched -with some sort of dark and light colors—hardly Lucky. It loped around -a corner of the porch. Following it, Phil and Juno found themselves -facing a six-paneled door lit by a dingy globe, which Phil guessed must -be an ancient tungsten-filament lamp. There was no sign of the cat, or -indication of how it could have vanished, until Phil noticed a tiny and -possibly swinging door cut in the bottom of the big one.</p> - -<p>Ignoring a cat-headed knocker, green with verdigris, Juno pounded on -the door in a way that made Phil hunch his shoulders and duck his -head, keeping an apprehensive eye on the ceiling. But the house didn't -collapse.</p> - -<p>After a time a peephole opened above the knocker and a watery gray eye -surveyed Juno.</p> - -<p>"I want to see that no-good husband of mine," she shouted, but it -didn't seem her usual self-confident roar.</p> - -<p>"Now Juno, you're all upset," came the response in a voice Phil -recognized as that of Sacheverell Akeley. "Your aura's all muddy; I can -hardly see you through it."</p> - -<p>"Listen here," Juno bellowed, "you let me in or I'll bust your lousy -house down."</p> - -<p>Phil thought that, even granting some lack of certainty in Juno, this -was not a threat to be taken lightly, but it didn't faze Sacheverell. -"No, Juno," he said firmly. "I can't let you in when your vibrations -are like that, and when hate hormones are streaming off you. Later -perhaps—then we may even be able to help you achieve inward -tranquility—but not now."</p> - -<p>"But look," Juno complained in surprisingly docile tones, "I got a -friend with me that's got business with you." She stepped aside.</p> - -<p>"What business?" Sacheverell asked skeptically.</p> - -<p>Phil looked straight at the oysterish eye and said, "The green cat."</p> - -<p>The door swung back and Sacheverell, now no longer in orange beret and -pants, but a robe of bronze embroidered green, waved Phil in with an -arm that swished emerald silk. His sunburn now seemed the exotically -dark complexion of an Asian mystic. "All doors must open to him who -speaks that name," he said simply. "Do you vouch for your companion's -peacefulness?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, I wouldn't touch anybody or anything here," Juno growled surlily, -shouldering in after Phil. "I feel smutched enough already."</p> - -<p>"From filth the roses spring, Juno," Sacheverell reminded her gently, -"and good blooms from evil. Be happy that you are to share in the great -transformation."</p> - -<p>Phil found himself standing on the threshold of a large living room -twisting with streams of gray incense and cluttered with Victorian -furniture and a bric-a-brac of ornaments and objects suggesting every -religion in the world. The lights here, too, were tungstens, and so -few as to make many shadows. At the far end of the room was a large -doorway, heavily curtained with black velvet. Through the resinous odor -of incense came the dull reek of stale food, clothes and people; also a -sour animal smell.</p> - -<p>And then Phil saw that the place was simply alive with cats: black, -white, topaz, silver, taupe; striped, mottled, banded, pied; short -haired, Angora, Persian, Siamese and Siamese mutant. They dripped from -chair tops and shelves; they peered brightly from under little tables -and dully from suffocating-looking crevices between cushions; they -pattered about or posed sublimely still. One stretched full length on -the woven Koran in the center of a Moslem prayer rug; another lay on a -tarnished silver pentacle inlaid in a dark, low table. One was battling -a phylactery hanging from the wall, making the little leather box swing -and jump; another was nosing a small steatopygous, multi-mammiferous -figurine; yet another was lazily entangling itself in a rosary; -two were lapping dirty looking milk from a silver chalice set with -amethysts.</p> - -<p>And then for a second time Phil was gulping his heart, for in the -center of a mantlepiece over a real fireplace, and midway between a -gilded icon and a tin Mexican devil-mask, there posed most sublimely -still of all, with forelegs straight as spears ... the green cat.</p> - -<p>As Phil walked hypnotically forward, he heard Sacheverell say gently, -"No, that is not his true self, but his simulacrum, his ancient -Egyptian harbinger, a figure of Bast, the Lady of Life and Love."</p> - -<p>And as Phil came closer, he saw it truly was the bronze statue of a -cat, encrusted with verdigris almost exactly the hue of Lucky's coat. -Coming up beside him, Sacheverell explained, "As soon as <i>he</i> came, -I routed out all our relics of Bast. Most of them are in there," he -indicated the black velvet curtains, "around the altar. But a few are -here." And he pointed out, beside the bronze statue, a small mummy case -and inside it the linen-banded mummy of a cat, looking like a little -sack with a blob at the top. As Sacheverell was explaining the tiny -Canopic jar of preserved cat entrails beside it, a six-toed Siamese -wandered up and sniffed the mummy thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>Finally Phil found his voice. "Then you actually do have Lucky?"</p> - -<p>Sacheverell's high curved eyebrows curved still higher. "Lucky?"</p> - -<p>"The green cat," Phil added.</p> - -<p>Sacheverell's face grew serenely grave. "No one has the green cat," he -reproved Phil. "It would not be permitted. He has us. We are his humble -worshippers, his primal hierophants."</p> - -<p>"But I want to see him," Phil said.</p> - -<p>"That will be permitted," Sacheverell assured Phil, "when he wakes and -the world changes. Meanwhile, compose yourself, er ... Phil Gish, you -say? Phil ... philo ... love ... an auspicious name."</p> - -<p>"Why the mucking hell is this green cat so important, anyhow? What is -it?"</p> - -<p>The two men turned. Juno was still standing on the threshold. She was -swayed forward a little, hugging her elbows, yet had her shoulders -squared and was glaring at them surlily, like a rebellious schoolgirl.</p> - -<p>"The green cat is love," Sacheverell told her softly. "The love that -blossoms even from hate."</p> - -<p>There was another interruption. This one took the form of a coy, -girlish snicker. Phil turned to the side of the room he had not yet -inspected closely, the one facing the fireplace. In it was a deep, -wide bay window closely shuttered with gray jalousies, as were all the -other windows in the room except for one fronting on darkness beside -the fireplace. In the bay was a semicircular couch on which Mary Akeley -sprawled adolescently, still in black sweater and stiff, red skirt.</p> - -<p>"You know," she said, "I just can't get used to the idea of loving -everything. Sacheverell says I've got to be nice to my little people -and stop sticking hatpins in them and things, but it's hard."</p> - -<p>For a morbid moment Phil thought she was referring to the cats. Then -he saw that there were a series of narrow shelves behind her, starting -at the top of the couch and going halfway up the bay and that these -shelves were crowded with dolls. Moving closer, he saw they were not -ordinary dolls, but extremely realistic human figures, most of them -about six inches high. He had never seen dolls so perfectly formed -or realistically dressed. There must have been two or three hundred. -They stood behind Mary like the cross-section of a crowded three-level -street in some tiny living world. In front of the couch was a low table -crowded with blocks of wax, molds, micro-tools and magnifiers, several -partially completed figurines and piled squares of fabrics so delicate -they must have been woven specially.</p> - -<p>"You like my little people?" he heard Mary ask him. "Most everyone -does. I got started out making strip-tease dolls, but these that are -all my own are so much more fun. Sacheverell, I think they like having -pins stuck through them. I think that's the way they want to be loved."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps, my dear," Phil heard Sacheverell say with an affectionate -chuckle, "but we'll have to wait to see how <i>he</i> feels about it."</p> - -<p>And then Phil saw that the dolls represented actual individual people, -were apparently perfect statuettes of them—so perfect that for a -moment he found himself wondering which was the real world: the big one -or this tiny one of Mary's. He recognized President Barnes, the USSR's -Vanadin, square-jawed John Emmet of the Federal Bureau of Loyalty, -several TV and handie stars, Sacheverell, about eight versions of Mary -herself, Jack Jones in black tights, Juno in maroon ones, Dr. Romadka -and—he caught his breath—Mitzie Romadka in an evening frock very -much like the one he'd seen her wearing.</p> - -<p>"Recognizing friends?" Mary asked softly, her young face which was so -predominantly nose and chin poking up inquisitively toward his.</p> - -<p>Footsteps clumped. Phil realized that Juno had finally come into the -room and was standing behind him looking at the dolls. Mary looked past -him with an innocent smile. "They're awfully cute, aren't they?" she -remarked.</p> - -<p>Juno said, "Ugh!"</p> - -<p>"Try to be joyful," Sacheverell kindly admonished with a little wag of -his finger. "Try hard. Soon it will be ever so much easier. I mean, -when <i>he</i> wakes. I must go now and see if there has been any change. -Amuse yourselves." And having lightly set them that stupendous task, -he hurried from the room, his green robes whistling against the black -velvet curtains.</p> - -<p>"Sacheverell's been as efficient as can be ever since <i>he</i> came," Mary -observed. "A great little manager. I've never seen him so peppy before -about anything. He's gone in for other things, you know," she prattled -on. "Semantic Christianity, neo-Mithraism, Bhagavad-Gita, Gospel -according to St. Isherwood, Bradburian Folkism, Cretan Triple-Goddess, -devil worship and Satanism—those are the two that <i>I</i> like—and I -don't know what all else. Every time he finds himself a new one, -he gets very enthusiastic, but not like this. I've never seen him -so serious. Ever since Jack handed him the green cat, all cute and -curled-up and sleeping—"</p> - -<p>"It wasn't sleeping," Phil cut in almost sharply. "It had been knocked -out by a stun-gun."</p> - -<p>"Don't be ridiculous," Mary went on. "Jack just found him sleeping. -Well, as soon as Sacheverell touched him, Sacheverell told us that the -world was going to change and there was going to be a new era of love -and understanding, and ever since then he's been as busy as a little -bee. Soon as we got home, he whirled around and got out all the Bast -things. I told Sacheverell that because Bast was a lady goddess, maybe -we shouldn't call him <i>he</i>. But Sacheverell told me no, that was the -way it was and the way it had to be. And I guess maybe he's right, -because when Sacheverell carried him through here sleeping, all the -little cats went for him in a big way, and the little girl cats went -for him even more than the little boy cats. And anyway, I always trust -Sacheverell's notions because he's so good at esping and telepathing -that he makes half our living by it."</p> - -<p>At that moment there was a strangled grunt and Phil heard the clumping -begin again behind him. Mary smiled slyly and followed Juno with her -eyes, but kept on babbling.</p> - -<p>"And you know," she said, "I guess there is something to what -Sacheverell says about an era of love and understanding, because these -little cats used to fight all the time, but ever since <i>he's</i> been in -the house they've been as peaceful as anything—a regular little cat -UN without Russia and the satellites. Even I feel sweeter, which is -a real test, though it's going to break my heart not to be able to -hate people." She sighed. "Still, if everybody's going to have to love -people, I'll just have to face it, and I better start practicing right -now."</p> - -<p>Phil, who had been leaning toward her, jerked up at that. Her face was -just a bit too like a young crone, despite her inviting lips and creamy -skin, but she merely reached behind her and took down the doll of Juno. -"Even love <i>her</i>," she said.</p> - -<p>The footsteps changed direction and came stamping up. Juno's face was -brick red from rage or outraged modesty.</p> - -<p>"You put me down!" she demanded. "I know what you are, you're a witch. -There was one on the next farm back in Pennsylvania. Only witches make -wax dolls of people and stick pins in them."</p> - -<p>For answer Mary gave the figurine an affectionate stroke. "No, Juno, -I'm going to have to love you and you're going to have to get used to -it." She looked up sweetly at Juno, who writhed at every touch Mary -gave the figurine. "Incidentally, I really am a witch and if I had any -choice, I would much rather stick needles through you."</p> - -<p>"Put me down!" Juno bellowed, raising her arms with all the muscles -standing out tautly underneath the long, tight sleeves of her dress, as -if she had a big rock she was going to drop on Mary.</p> - -<p>Mary complied without haste and took down another of the figurines. Her -voice was soft as a serpent gliding. "Would you rather I practiced -loving on Jack? That's what you make me do."</p> - -<p>"Don't you touch him!" Juno's face was almost purple. "Bad enough your -going all gooey over him in the flesh, but this is worse. Stop touching -him that way! Aaaaah!"</p> - -<p>Phil ducked back as, with the last screaming bellow, Juno kicked the -work table to one side so that its contents scattered and all the cats -went scampering under tables and chairs. "I'm going to smash every last -one of those dolls," Juno announced, advancing.</p> - -<p>Instantly Mary rose to her knees on the couch, her back to her little -people, her arms outstretched protectingly to either side.</p> - -<p>"Straight through the eyes," she hissed, her face a fury's mask, -"that's where <i>your</i> needles are going. Get thee before me, Satan!"</p> - -<p>Phil never found out whether Juno was, as she seemed, a bit cowed by -the diabolical venom in Mary's voice, for just then there was a frantic -padding of feet on the stairs and Jack Jones and Cookie burst into the -room from the hall.</p> - -<p>"Juno!" Jack yelled. "I told you I'd kill you if you ever came here!"</p> - -<p>In the ensuing moment of silence Cookie could be heard to confirm -primly, "He will, too."</p> - -<p>Juno turned on Jack, assuming the stance of a bear. "Listen, you -ten-timing little stinker, you're going straight home with me." She -hitched up her skirt and began to roll up, or rather rip up, the long -sleeves of her frock. Her furpiece had already fallen off and her hat -hung by a cropped hair.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Jack was surveying the scene and getting a real idea of how -much damage had been done.</p> - -<p>"Juno," he said aghast, but advancing, "you've been wrecking the place, -you've been wrecking the little people, you even brought the Ikeless -Joe!" And in passing he gave Phil a shove that sent him up against the -wall, his teeth rattling. "Don't you see what you've done, Juno?" Jack -continued with poignantly aggrieved indignation, as if he must convince -Juno of the enormity of her actions before liquidating her. "You've -done the one thing they won't ever forgive, the one thing that'll turn -'em against even me." He was practically tearful. "Don't you realize -they're the only two people in the world that mean anything to me? -Don't you realize that outside of Mary and Sacheverell, I don't care a -fig for anybody?"</p> - -<p>Surprisingly to Phil, the retort to this came not from Juno, who was -lifting her now bare arms menacingly, but from Cookie.</p> - -<p>"Oh, so you don't care anything about me, either," he accused shrilly. -"I've suspected it for a long time, and now you say it yourself."</p> - -<p>"Shut up, you're just a dumb stooge," Jack told him without looking -around.</p> - -<p>"Oh, so I'm just a dumb stooge, am I? Well let me tell you, Jackie, -Juno's right about one thing and I wish I'd admitted I agreed with her -long ago. These Akeleys have turned your head. They've dazzled you."</p> - -<p>At that moment Sacheverell came popping back into the room, his -brilliant silk robes fairly hissing against the black velvet. "Stop, -at once!" he commanded, raising his arm. "You will disturb <i>his</i> -awakening. Rise above hate. Do you realize I can't see anything of you -but ink blobs, your auras are so black? Even <i>he</i> will be unable to -reach you."</p> - -<p>"Shut up that silly talk about <i>he</i>," Cookie snarled. "I don't want -to hear the word again or anything more about your stupid cults that -I had to pretend to be interested in. You've done Jackie quite enough -damage as it is. Do you know we could have got <i>ten thousand dollars</i> -for that cat you're using for your idiotic mumbo-jumbo? Jack had just -stun-gunned it and was all ready to hand it over to Moe Brimstine and -collect <i>ten thousand dollars</i>, when you have to prance in with that -<i>ugly</i> witch of a wife of yours and make like a wizard and flatter -Jackie into thinking he was starting a new religion or something and -soft talk him into giving you the cat. I hate you. I want to hurt you." -And he started toward Sacheverell, walking on his toes and puffing out -his sweatered chest like a bright blue fighting cock.</p> - -<p>Once again to Phil's surprise, Sacheverell's horrified and reproachful -gaze was turned not on Cookie, but Jack.</p> - -<p>"Jack," he gasped, "do you mean to tell me you shot <i>him</i> with a -stun-gun, that you even dreamed of selling <i>him</i> for money? Judas!"</p> - -<p>"Now see what you've done," Jack moaned, not at Cookie, but at Juno. -"You've spoiled everything."</p> - -<p>"I'll spoil you, you rancid little intelleckchul-lover," she roared and -ran at him blindly like a novice. Jack's face set itself in a shrewd -grimace and he stepped lightly to one side and slipped out a hand for -a hold. But just then Juno's professional training seemed to come back -to her and she checked herself, smoothly grabbed the wrist of the hand -snaking toward her, bent, spun, and sent Jack sailing over her hip in a -flying mare that landed him on the silver pentacled table. It toppled -with a crash and various religious objects fell from the wall.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Mary Akeley had picked up a small vise that had broken from -her upset work table, and hurled it with great accuracy at Cookie's -head, but then Cookie suddenly hurled himself at Sacheverell's throat -and the vise passed through the space where Cookie's head had been.</p> - -<p>While all this was going on, Phil, completely to his surprise, walked -coolly over to the shelves of figurines, carefully picked up that of -Mitzie, and put it in his jacket pocket.</p> - -<p>When he turned around, Jack had selected a black glass Aztec -sacrificial knife from the fallen religious objects and writhed to his -knees like a cobra. Juno picked up a rather small, but very solid, -brass Buddha.</p> - -<p>Nearer the velvet curtains, Cookie had Sacheverell on his back and was -choking him, while Sacheverell, though his shoulder was pinned, was -industriously trying to beat Cookie on the head with the silver chalice -from which the cats had been drinking.</p> - -<p>Mary had grabbed up some hatpins and darted forward. She hesitated whom -to attack, then started for Cookie—not so much, Phil fancied, to help -her husband but because Cookie's "ugly" had rankled.</p> - -<p>Never before, not even in the trenches and foxholes, had Phil Gish seen -real murder in a human face.</p> - -<p>Now he saw it in five.</p> - -<p>And then, very suddenly, it wasn't there at all.</p> - -<p>The room grew very still. The black glass knife and the chalice -clattered from Jack's and Sacheverell's hands. Mary's hatpins struck -the floor with a faint, vibrant rattle. Juno's Buddha thudded on the -Moslem prayer rug. Cookie's hands unlocked themselves and writhed back, -as if ashamed even before they had a message from the brain.</p> - -<p>Expressions unlocked too. Hate furrows softened and vanished. Lips that -had writhed back from teeth moistly returned. Eyes filled with painful -understanding.</p> - -<p>Jack said, in a soft, amazed voice, "Juno, you really do love me. You -don't just want to own me and shame me as a man."</p> - -<p>Juno said, "You really do care what I think, don't you, Jack? Gosh!"</p> - -<p>Cookie said, "I didn't realize it, Sacheverell: you partly mean what -you say. It isn't all faking."</p> - -<p>Mary said, "And you actually want Jack to be happy, Cookie. It isn't -simply vanity and envy."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell said, "My God, it's happening. And I mostly thought it was -a stunt I was stage managing."</p> - -<p>As for Phil, his feelings were in that golden sea they'd swum in this -afternoon. He felt as if his heart were joined by sensitive strands to -those of the five persons around him. It even seemed to him that there -were delicate, gossamer wires connecting him to the figurines so that -he understood Romadka, Barnes, Vanadin, maybe even himself.</p> - -<p>Then, simultaneously with the others, he turned toward the velvet -curtains. A few inches above the floor, Lucky's little green head had -poked through. It hung there like a large green jewel, flooding them in -turn with its mellow rays. Then Lucky pushed all the way through the -curtains.</p> - -<p>Swiftly, from under tables and chairs, out from the fireplace, and from -behind tiers of books, all the other cats appeared and gathered around -Lucky in a circle.</p> - -<p>"It has begun," Sacheverell whispered happily. "The world is changing."</p> - -<p>"Saint Francis of Assisi," Mary murmured weakly, "incarnate in a cat."</p> - -<p>Then Lucky walked slowly across the room. The other cats made way for -him and then followed him, still keeping a respectful distance. He -passed Mary and Cookie, passed Sacheverell, who looked just a shade -disappointed, and sprang lightly into Phil's arms.</p> - -<p>Phil had never held anything that weighed so little, or felt fur so -electric. His chest seemed to him to be rather too small for his heart.</p> - -<p>Sacheverell called softly yet ringingly, "You are the chosen one." Phil -looked at him and then, with an unreasoning and almost mystical gust of -apprehension, at the black window behind him.</p> - -<p>The glass in the window was vibrating, circular gray waves were -spreading in it from a central spot.</p> - -<p>At the same instant he felt his left hand, the one cradling Lucky, go -dead. Lucky leaped convulsively in the air and fell perhaps six feet -away from him and was still.</p> - -<p>The glass in the window shattered all at once and tinkled to the floor, -leaving only a few jagged shards around the frame.</p> - -<p>Lucky's cat cortege broke up and its members raced into the hall and up -the stairs.</p> - -<p>Moe Brimstine stepped in through the window, with a suppleness one -would never have expected of his huge body. He stood just inside -it, gripping a stun-gun in his big mitt. His jowl seemed to Phil to -be smeared with the darkness behind him, and his glasses elliptical -patches of it.</p> - -<p>"There's a couple of boys with orthos out there," Moe said, stepping to -one side of the window. "I know you don't want to get yourselves sliced -up."</p> - -<p>Apparently nobody did, though Phil at least hadn't any idea of what -orthos might be.</p> - -<p>"Listen carefully, everybody," Moe said. "So long as you forget -about all this, so long as you act and think like it never happened, -beginning with finding the cat this afternoon, then I'm going to forget -all about you. That goes for you, Jack, though you're a dumber bunny -than I ever thought and did yourself out of an easy ten—and for you, -Juno, and Cookie, too. But if you don't forget, if I get just the -littlest hint that you've remembered—well, we won't talk about that." -He slowly scanned their faces. "Okay, then," he said, and shifting the -gun to his left hand, stepped forward and scooped up Lucky.</p> - -<p>"He ... he ..." Sacheverell mumbled despairingly. Moe looked at him and -Sacheverell was quiet.</p> - -<p>"How long did this pussy sleep after you stun-gunned it?" Moe asked -Jack.</p> - -<p>Jack wet his lips. "Almost until now," he said. "Until maybe five -minutes ago." Moe backed away toward the window.</p> - -<p>Phil felt something moving from inside, something that tortured him -into movement, for he certainly didn't want to stir a muscle.</p> - -<p>He advanced toward Moe, a shaky step, then a couple, all the while -feeling the most exquisite pains racking his torso as it was sliced by -imagined orthos.</p> - -<p>"Put that cat down," he croaked.</p> - -<p>Moe looked at him with utter boredom.</p> - -<p>"He's just a nut," he heard Jack assure Moe in an anxious whisper. "He -won't cause trouble."</p> - -<p>"I can see he is and won't," Moe said drily, shifting the gun to the -hand from which Lucky dangled.</p> - -<p>But Phil kept on toward the towering figure. He tried to stop, but -the torturer inside him wouldn't let him—and now once again the same -torturer pried open his teeth and lips.</p> - -<p>"Put him down," he repeated. "You can't have him. Nobody can." He -raised his fists, but the left one wouldn't close.</p> - -<p>Moe looked at him disgustedly. The big fist came toward Phil's jaw, -very slowly. Still, there somehow wasn't enough time to get out of the -way.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>VIII</h2> - - -<p>Phil struggled through the slap-slap of an invigorating gray surf, -until he realized it was a wet towel wielded by Juno.</p> - -<p>"How's the head?" she inquired with a grin that showed her lip scar.</p> - -<p>The head seemed twice as thick and heavy as usual to Phil, but he -didn't feel any special pain until his exploring hands came to the lump -on his chin.</p> - -<p>"You're okay," she told him, tossing the towel on the upset black and -silver table. He doubted it.</p> - -<p>"Do you think that by any chance Mr. Brimstine is a Beelzebite?"</p> - -<p>Phil gingerly swiveled his head around. Sacheverell, whose green -garment now seemed just a garish and not too clean bathrobe and whose -dark complexion was merely sunburn again, appeared to be having a -conference of some sort with Jack and Cookie. They were drinking. Mary -was busy at her work table.</p> - -<p>"A what?" Cookie asked suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"You know, a Satanist, a devil-worshipper," Sacheverell explained -briskly. "That would explain his stealing the Green One. A Satanist -wouldn't want good to bloom in the world."</p> - -<p>"Stop talking that silly guff," Cookie told him. "Moe Brimstine -isn't interested in any kind of mystical crud or anything else, for -that matter, except the do-re-mi. And neither is Mr. Billig. And -Moe Brimstine wouldn't be working for anyone but himself or Mr. -Billig—probably both. That's true, isn't it, Jack?"</p> - -<p>The kingman didn't seem at all inclined to be talkative, but at this -question he did nod his head with conviction.</p> - -<p>Juno put a glass in Phil's hand. "Here, drink this," she told him. Phil -looked at the brown stuff. "What is it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Not soybean milk," she assured him. "Drink it up!"</p> - -<p>The whiskey, which tasted as if it were laced with something bitter, -burned his throat and brought tears to his eyes, but almost immediately -his head began to feel clearer. He surveyed the room. Outside of Mary's -work table, none of the mess had been cleaned up, though someone had -taped the Moslem prayer rug over the broken window.</p> - -<p>"And what's more," Cookie was saying dogmatically, "your idea about -that cat being mystical is crud too."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell looked at him and Jack with exquisite blankness. "But -didn't you feel it?" he asked. "Didn't you feel what it did to all of -us?"</p> - -<p>Jack shifted uneasily and didn't meet his gaze, but Cookie shrugged his -shoulders and said nervously, "Oh, that! We were just all of us worked -up, between your mumbo-jumbo and the fighting. We'd have believed -anything."</p> - -<p>"But didn't you feel your whole being change?" Sacheverell insisted. -"Didn't you feel universal love and understanding burgeon?"</p> - -<p>"Universal sky-pie!" Cookie said rudely. "I didn't feel a thing that -meant anything. Did you, Jackie?"</p> - -<p>The kingman didn't quite nod his head, but he certainly didn't shake -it. And he didn't look at Sacheverell.</p> - -<p>The latter surveyed them both with sad wonderment. "You've already -forgotten," he said. "You've made yourselves forget. But how," he asked -Cookie, "do you explain the behavior of the cats? They recognized the -Green One. They tendered him worship."</p> - -<p>"They just panted around after him," Cookie asserted. "He's probably -an oversexed hermaphrodite mutant. And another thing—if that cat's -mystical and all dripping with powers, why did he let himself be -knocked out? Why didn't he feed Moe Brimstine some universal sky-pie?"</p> - -<p>"There was glass and distance between them," Sacheverell reminded him. -"Besides, if Mr. Brimstine is a Beelzebite—"</p> - -<p>"What's more," Cookie went on relentlessly, "why did he let himself be -knocked out by Jack in the first place? Jackie, before you stun-gunned -the little brute, you didn't feel any great burgeon of universal love, -did you?"</p> - -<p>Jack frowned. "I stunned him instinctively," he said slowly, his -downward gazing eyes studying the upset chalice, which chose this -moment to roll two inches. "I glimpsed something out of the corner of -my eye and shot." He paused. "I actually thought it was a mouse."</p> - -<p>"Instinctively or not, you stun-gunned it and we hustled it into the -locker as soon as we saw it was green," Cookie assured him decisively. -"Which certainly proves the cat has no powers. Sash here just worked -us up into thinking he had. Gave even me such an eerie feeling that if -someone had come in wearing an orange sheet and Sash had said it was -Mohammed, I'd have believed him."</p> - -<p>"But suppose the Green One was taken by surprise," Sacheverell argued. -"All gods have limitations. Perhaps the Green One is not so much able -to read thought as to join together telepathically the thoughts and -feelings of mortals."</p> - -<p>Cookie made a rude noise. Jack gave Cookie a quick look that was both -angry and imploring, as if to say, "You've proved your point. Lay off."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell shrugged and said, "Well, if I have to descend to your -materialistic level, what is it that makes the Green One so important -to Mr. Brimstine?"</p> - -<p>"How should I know?" Cookie said huffily. "Maybe he's smuggling heroin -in it or secret documents for Vanadin; maybe it belongs to the current -mistress of the King of South Africa. Did Moe tell you anything, -Jackie?"</p> - -<p>"Just that he'd give $10,000 for a green cat and that he didn't want -any dye-jobs. That was a couple weeks ago. Some of the other boys asked -for details, but he said there weren't any." He stood up. "But what's -the use of talking about it? We can't do anything," he said harshly, -suddenly glaring at Sacheverell, as if daring him, or imploring him, to -answer.</p> - -<p>"Well ..." said Sacheverell.</p> - -<p>Phil had finished his thinking. He got to his feet and squared his -narrow shoulders. "We can rescue the green cat from Brimstine," he -said. "Who's with me?"</p> - -<p>Cookie whirled on him. "Nobody, not even yourself," he said, while Jack -put his hand to his temple and groaned, "Now the Ikeless Joe."</p> - -<p>Juno heaved herself out of her chair and lumbered over with her glass -and bottle. "Look, Phil," she said, "I gotta admit you're a spunky -little mutt. But nobody, simply nobody, goes up against Moe Brimstine."</p> - -<p>Phil considered that for a moment. "I did," he said proudly.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, I know," she admitted, "but he didn't take it seriously."</p> - -<p>Phil looked at Sacheverell. "How about you?" he asked. "You believe in -Lucky."</p> - -<p>Cookie glared warningly at Sacheverell. "If any one of us bothers Moe -Brimstine about the green cat," Cookie said, "we'll all be inhaling -molten plastic!"</p> - -<p>"Well ..." said Sacheverell, looking around for advice. His gaze -settled on his wife. "Mary, what steps do you think we should take?"</p> - -<p>Mary, chewing her tongue over a difficult job of wax shaving, twitched -her shoulders. "I don't care what anyone else does," she said, lifting -off the microtome-thin flake. "I'm working on Moe Brimstine my own -little way." And she held up for their inspection a small wax head -which already was beginning to look like the heavy jowled assistant -boss of Fun Incorporated. "And when it's all finished," she told them, -"then needles and pins!"</p> - -<p>Juno said, "Ugh!" Cookie looked almost impressed. While Sacheverell -gnawed his lip thoughtfully and, with a wary eye on Jack and Cookie, -said, "Yes, I suppose that is the best way after all."</p> - -<p>"Okay," Phil said and started for the door.</p> - -<p>"Where do you think you're going?" Cookie demanded.</p> - -<p>"To get him back," Phil said.</p> - -<p>At that there was a rush of footsteps and several voices competing in -assuring him he would do no such thing, but it was Juno who grabbed his -shoulders and swiveled him around.</p> - -<p>"Phil," she said, "for wunct I gotta admit that I agree with these -jerks. You're not going to do anything about that—that fool cat. You -just gotta get that through your nut wunct and for all."</p> - -<p>Phil just smiled at her.</p> - -<p>She shook her head disgustedly. "I shouldn't have give you that -whiskey."</p> - -<p>"It wasn't the whiskey, but what you put in it," Cookie interjected -crisply. "He's high."</p> - -<p>Phil grinned at him serenely, as if to prove his point, then suddenly -they all stepped back a bit, and for a moment he thought they had -recognized his supreme self-confidence and bowed to the inevitable. -Then he realized that they were looking beyond him and he felt cool air -from the porch.</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka put down a black bag inside the doorway, said smilingly, -"Hello, Sacheverell. Hello, Mary," and nodded briefly to Jack, Juno, -and Cookie, before casually turning his gaze to Phil.</p> - -<p>"Well, Phil," the analyst said waggishly, "that was quite a chase you -led me, and I consider myself very lucky to have found you at all. -It was a most interesting conversation we were having and I'm eager -to continue it." He spared the others a glance. "You'll excuse us -talking professional matters for a moment, I hope. Now, Phil," he went -on persuasively "I imagine that the ... er ... person who persuaded, -or rather forced you to run away, tried to put all sorts of ideas -into your head. But I'm sure I can show you in a few moments just how -nonsensical they are. Incidentally, it was that same person who turned -out the lights in the first place and put all the doors on code. Quite -a trickster, eh? And my daughter, too! So say good-by to your friends, -Phil—I hope they won't be too angry with me for dragging you off."</p> - -<p>By this time Dr. Romadka was far enough into the light so that the -four streaks of dried blood on his cheek showed up plainly. Mary said -mischievously, "Anton, I never did believe in that wild woman patient -of yours who was always threatening mayhem, but now I guess I'm going -to have to. Somebody clawed you real good."</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka's smile thinned a trifle. "Quite a few illusions turn out -to be very real, Mary," he said lightly, "although it's usually my job -to prove the opposite. Eh, Phil? Such as that there really aren't any -young women with hoofs and black fur who forget to turn off the window -when they undress?"</p> - -<p>"Or any green cats?" Phil asked quietly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, anything like that," Dr. Romadka agreed curtly.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you admit, doctor," Phil went on coolly, "that the green cat -is another of those illusions that turn out to be very real? And that -you're after it? You wouldn't startle these people a bit. They've all -seen the green cat."</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka's eyes blazed with sudden suspicion, which didn't -altogether abate when Cookie said in scandalized tones, "We did not," -and Jack insisted, "Doc, we don't know what the guy's talking about. -But we do know he's a nut. That's why I sent him to you in the first -place."</p> - -<p>Phil watched with amusement as the psychoanalyst sharply scanned Juno, -Sacheverell and Mary. Then Phil chuckled and said to them, cryptically, -"It might be worse for you if I go off with the doctor instead of up -against Brimstine."</p> - -<p>New suspicions flared in Dr. Romadka's eyes, but Jack said swiftly, -"Look, doc, are you going to take this guy in charge and put him away -somewhere so that he won't be able to cause any trouble?"</p> - -<p>"That's one thing you can be sure of," Dr. Romadka snapped, shedding -his smiles and subtlety. "Get this straight, Phil, you're coming with -me whether you want to or not. In case you're thinking about running -away again, I have several friends outside."</p> - -<p>"Then that's swell," Jack said, "I'm all for it. We'll be glad to get -rid of him."</p> - -<p>Juno, who had been frowning for a long while, now rocked her head like -a puzzled bull. "Gee, Jack, I dunno," she said. "I don't like it at -all."</p> - -<p>"Juno—" Jack began threateningly.</p> - -<p>"I don't like the idea of tossing the little guy to the wolves," she -finished defiantly.</p> - -<p>"To the wolves, Mrs. Jones?" Dr. Romadka asked dangerously. "That's -done to save others. Please explain—"</p> - -<p>But at that moment Sacheverell came hustling forward with great -determination. There were no longer any traces of sympathy in the stern -glance he fixed on Phil. "I think that Anton and Jack are quite right," -he announced, seizing Phil by shoulder and elbow and marching him -toward the door. "I'm tired of your deceptions, Mr. Gish. You go right -along with Anton and his friends, and no nonsense."</p> - -<p>Phil heard a grunt of satisfaction from Dr. Romadka. He tried to twist -away from Sacheverell, but the latter pressed even more closely to his -side, so that his face was next to Phil's ear, and suddenly whispered, -"Up the stairs, two flights."</p> - -<p>The next moment, Phil felt himself pushed away, while Sacheverell -reeled with a yelp into Dr. Romadka, who was stooping for his black -bag, and at the same time managed to upset the antique floor lamp that -dimly lit the hall.</p> - -<p>Then Phil was racing up the creaking stairs in the sudden darkness, -helping himself along by yanks at the ricketty balustrade, while -behind him he heard shouts and racing footsteps. Nearest were those -of Sacheverell, who was crying manfully, "There he goes! After him, -everyone!"</p> - -<p>Phil raced along the backstretch of corridor and up the second flight, -Sacheverell flapping at his heels like a green bat. At the top he -grabbed Phil and shoved him through a door. For a moment their faces -were close.</p> - -<p>"Out the window and over the beam," Sacheverell whispered. "Dare -anything for <i>him</i>."</p> - -<p>Then the door was swiftly shut and he heard Sacheverell yell, "He's -gone up in the attic. Follow me." Phil was in darkness, facing a tall -window dimly aglow from outside, while about his feet cats who had -taken refuge in the room scurried frantically.</p> - -<p>He walked over to the double-paned thing of wavy, ancient glass. He had -read more than one comedy scene involving the impossibility of opening -such primitive windows, but this one came up easily enough and all the -way. He ducked through and crouched on the sill outside, steadying -himself with one hand.</p> - -<p>Around him was nineteenth-century, musty smelling wood and slate. -Opposite him, about twenty feet away, was the top-level street, busy -with speeding electrics. Joining the two was a metal beam about eight -inches wide, faintly outlined in the glow from the car's headlights. -The beam was grimy with dirt. It based itself in the brick chimney that -rose just beside the window. In fact, one of Phil's feet was on it. -Below were two stories of mostly darkness.</p> - -<p>What happened next may very well have been made possible by the -fear-abolishing, nerve-steadying drug Juno had put in his whiskey, -though Phil laid it to the influence of Lucky and to Sacheverell's -grotesque yet strangely thrilling injunction. Certainly Phil was no -athlete and had, if anything, a touch of acrophobia.</p> - -<p>At any rate, he slowly got to his feet, let go the window, poised -himself for a moment, and then ran lightly across the beam. He rolled -clumsily over the railing at the other end and sprawled on the sidewalk.</p> - -<p>At the same instant a needle of glaring blue lanced up through the -dark behind him. It cut through the beam at an angle, spat redly for a -moment against the black "roof" a few feet above the Akeleys' house, -and winked out.</p> - -<p>The beam held for a moment, then slowly slid past itself at the cut. -The chimney fell lazily. There were yells and one scream came from -below. The roof of the Akeley place slid forward a foot—and stopped. -Dust mushroomed up.</p> - -<p>Then Phil was racing down the street to a cab parked a quarter of -a block away. He was thinking that, whatever those orthos of Moe -Brimstine's boys were, apparently Dr. Romadka's friends had them too. -He couldn't help sparing a thought for the plight of the group in the -reeling attic. He could almost hear Juno's titanic curses.</p> - -<p>Then he was piling into the cab.</p> - -<p>"The Tan Jet," he told the driver. "It's a kind of night club."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, I know," the latter said in a voice heavy with knowledge, fixing -on Phil the sad, resigned gaze one reserves for those who insist, -against all good advice, on running to their dooms.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>IX</h2> - - -<p>Someone singing, "Turn of the Century Blues" in a sultry, melancholy -voice was all that Phil could hear as he walked down the dark ramp -and into the hardly brighter Tan Jet. No live or robot doorman was -on guard, at least no obvious one, and no hostess came hurrying up. -Apparently customers were supposed to know their way around.</p> - -<p>There were a lot of them. They sat in small parties with a truculent -quietness that sneered at and challenged the frantic hustle of the -times and the belief that the hustle was leading anywhere. There were -no juke box theaters in the corners, no TV screens visible, and the -booths didn't seem to be equipped with handies. Four live musicians -softly blew and strummed old jazz instruments, while a single amber -spotlight shone on the coffee colored, deceivingly languid songstress, -whose sequined dress went all the way to her wrists and chin.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>I'm sad-crazy, sweetheart, tonight,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>My heart is heavy in the sodium light....</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>A young man and woman coming from opposite shadowy walls sighted each -other. "Lambie Pie!" he cried. She stood stock-still as he walked up -to her and gave her a slap that rocked her red-ringletted head. Then, -"Loverman!" she cried and slapped him back. Phil could see his eyes -roll ecstatically as the red flamed in his smacked cheek. They linked -arms ritualistically and made off.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>And it don't help, sweetheart, to know</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>That the whole world went crazy—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Moon-mazy and space-hazy—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>About a hundred years ago,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>So—</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>At that moment Phil spotted the dark sheen of Mitzie Romadka's hair -and cloak at the far end of the room. He started toward her, suddenly -feeling a trifle uneasy.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Put away my sky-high platform shoes</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>And don't bring me any happy news,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>For—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>I've got those turn of the century—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Turn of the millennium—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Blues!</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>As the listeners softly hissed their applause, Phil stopped a few feet -away from Mitzie's table. She was with three young men, but they sat -away from her pointedly, as if she were ostracized.</p> - -<p>The three young men, without lifting a finger, showed more of the -mystic toughness that seemed to be the specialty of the joint than -any other people in it. They had the quiet dignity of murderers. When -Mitzie turned to see what they were looking at, she sprang up with -the delighted cry of "Phil!" though there was alarm in her eyes. She -wasn't wearing her evening-mask. She walked over to him and slapped him -stingingly with her left hand.</p> - -<p>He whipped up his hand to slap her back, hesitated, and barely managed -a sketchy pat. She glared at him but turned back with a bright smile, -saying gayly, "Fellows, Phil. Phil, meet Carstairs, Llewellyn, and -Buck."</p> - -<p>Carstairs had a head that bulged at the top like a pear. He wore thin -bangs, the effect of which was not effeminate. He remarked lazily to -Mitzie, "So this is the clown you blabbed tonight's plans to."</p> - -<p>Llewellyn looked very British and was very black. He said, "You also -seem to have told him we'd come here later. Puzzles me why he didn't -bring the police."</p> - -<p>Buck was hawk faced and had a Kentucky accent that sounded as if it -had been learned from tapes. "P'lice never tried to pick up anybody in -the Tan Jit, yit," he observed. "Not here, Otie!" This last remark was -addressed to a gaunt, mangy dog which thrust its head from under his -legs and snapped at Phil.</p> - -<p>Phil leaned on the table, his hand next to a tall, slim pitcher. He -said to Mitzie, "I'm surprised to find you at a tame place like this. I -expected drugs, knife fights and naked women."</p> - -<p>Mitzie whirled his way. "As for drugs, what do you think we're -drinking?" she said furiously. "As for knife fights, wait. And as for -naked women, you devotee of male-female wrestling, well, if Carstairs, -Llewellyn, or Buck should happen to see a girl who took their fancy, -I'd just walk up to her and rip off her clothes!"</p> - -<p>She was looking past Phil when she finished. He swiveled his head and -saw Miss Phoebe Filmer with a rather scared looking young man. But -Phoebe, in a half off-the-bosom chartreuse evening gown, looked even -more frightened, her face almost as green as her green-blonde hair. -Perhaps she had heard Mitzie's last remark. Then she recognized Phil, -and astonishment was added to her fright. Phil smiled at her with a -somewhat forced reassuringness. At that moment Phoebe's escort called -her attention to an empty booth back toward the door, and the two of -them hurried toward its haven with the eagerness of skimmers who have -overreached themselves.</p> - -<p>Phil felt remarkably bucked up. He snared an empty chair from the -next table and found himself an empty glass and filled it from the -tall, slim pitcher. Llewellyn, who, like the others had a half-inch in -the bottom of his glass, caught Buck's attention and rolled his eyes -significantly toward the ceiling. The white made eerie half-moons under -the irises.</p> - -<p>"Just rip 'em off," Mitzie repeated with conviction.</p> - -<p>Carstairs said, with a quietly scathing coldness, "Mitz, quit playing -the solicitous little mother to Llewellyn, Buck and me." He carefully -smoothed his bangs, as an ancient judge might have adjusted his wig -before pronouncing sentence. "It's quite clear that you spilled our -plans to this clown, and that he told the police so that they were -waiting for us when we knocked over the first sales-robot."</p> - -<p>"Quite," Llewellyn said, while Buck nodded.</p> - -<p>"And if I hadn't insisted on putting a new charge in the rocket -assist," Carstairs continued, "we'd have been nabbed."</p> - -<p>"It was just a coincidence," Mitzie asserted sharply.</p> - -<p>"First time we ever had a coincidence," Carstairs observed. -"Personally, I don't believe there are such things."</p> - -<p>Phil took a deep drink. It seemed mild, sweet stuff, compared to the -adulterated whiskey Juno had fed him. That is, it seemed so for the -first two or three seconds. Then he felt the top of his head balloon -outward, pear-wise, like Carstairs'. The dark songstress was singing -some song the refrain of which was,</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Darling, I'm queer for you.</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>I'm really strange, quite out of any ordinary range....</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>Carstairs continued quietly, "Mitz, we let you into the gang, we -initiated you, although we knew you were a psychoanalyst's daughter and -doubtful material—"</p> - -<p>Mitzie glared at him. "Initiated me?" she said. "I'll say you did!"</p> - -<p>"Be that as it may," Carstairs asserted slowly, "you betrayed the gang -tonight. At the best you acted irresponsibly." His words came slower -still. "Your irresponsibility lost us a wad of dough." He paused for a -long cruel moment. "You're out, Mitz.</p> - -<p>"Out," Carstairs repeated.</p> - -<p>"Definitely," Llewellyn agreed. "Yeah," Buck said, rubbing Ortie's lean -snoot.</p> - -<p>Phil put his elbows on the table. "Gentlemen," he said quietly, "you -say you are out a wad of dough? I am in a position to remedy that."</p> - -<p>Carstairs looked at him with mild irritation and raised his open hand. -Phil smiled and advanced his cheek. "I am seeking a jewel beyond -price," he continued. "In order to obtain it, I intend tonight to -burgle the premises of Fun Incorporated. I am willing to let you help -me."</p> - -<p>At the mention of Fun Incorporated, Buck turned his head at least half -an inch, while Carstairs almost blinked.</p> - -<p>"You have rather big ideas, don't you?" Llewellyn remarked quietly.</p> - -<p>"Yeah," Buck agreed with a yawn, "he maybe could have picked an easier -place."</p> - -<p>Carstairs asked Mitzie softly, "You did say he was one of your father's -nuts, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>Mitzie started to reply, but Phil interposed blandly, "I know a private -way into Fun Incorporated, right through Billig's office. It'll be -simple. You needn't worry about the wasps."</p> - -<p>Buck drawled, "What is this jewel beyond price, anyhow."</p> - -<p>"Something I wouldn't expect you to appreciate," Phil replied. -"However," he continued, taking a more cautious slug of the mind -swelling drink, "there should be enough in the way of ordinary -valuables lying about to compensate you for your effort. I understand -that Fun Incorporated is rather wealthy. For one thing, all -sales-robots work from there," he finished grandly. "Why not hit them -where they live?"</p> - -<p>Otie stretched leanly from under Buck's chair and snapped at Phil's -hand. Phil, stiffened by the drink, didn't move it. The jaws clashed -hardly an inch away. "Why do you call him Otie?" Phil asked.</p> - -<p>"'Cause he's a coyote," Buck explained, almost with condescension. -"S'posed to have been bred back for ancestral traits to the Oligocene -type."</p> - -<p>Phil found himself wondering whether cats could be bred back to their -Egyptian ancestors and whether those ancestors might have been green.</p> - -<p>In the pause, Mitzie's eyes grew bright. She looked at her companions. -"Why don't we take him up on it?" she said lightly but not casually. "I -mean, about Fun Incorporated. It sounds exciting.</p> - -<p>"Why don't we?" Mitzie repeated after a moment.</p> - -<p>Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck sat there as coolly and as contemptuous -of any challenge as when Phil had first seen them. Yet there was a -difference.</p> - -<p>"Of course, it's risky," Phil cut in. "Moe Brimstine's boys have -orthos."</p> - -<p>"What do you know about orthos?" Carstairs demanded hungrily.</p> - -<p>Phil shrugged. "They're blue and they sizzle," he said. "I got shot at -with one earlier tonight."</p> - -<p>"Why don't we, I'm asking?" Mitzie pressed.</p> - -<p>"I asked Juno and Jack Jones to help me," Phil put in. "You know, the -wrestlers. But they decided not to."</p> - -<p>Still no one answered Mitzie's question. "Well, I guess that's it," she -said with a triumphant smile, turning away from the table. "Come on, -Phil."</p> - -<p>They had taken three steps when Carstairs began to chuckle quietly. -Phil might have kept going, but Mitzie turned back with a carefully -repressed eagerness that Phil resented.</p> - -<p>"Don't kill yourselves running," Carstairs said. "Llewellyn and Buck -and I are signing up for this little expedition, providing the clown -can give the right answers to a few questions when we get outside." He -smiled as he got up. "Just one thing, Mitz. This time there better be -no cops."</p> - -<p>Mitzie laughed. Phil accepted the situation with a "Glad to have your -help, boys," and started to take Mitzie's arm, but she linked hers with -those of Carstairs and Llewellyn, not sparing Phil another look.</p> - -<p>The sequined singer had shifted to a snappier rhythm.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Slap me silly, honey,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Beat me till I break.</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Love is very funny,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Laugh until I ache....</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>To solace his injured feelings, Phil veered over to Phoebe Filmer's -booth, where the green-blonde was being rather pointedly annoyed by two -bearded young men while her escort looked on agitatedly.</p> - -<p>Phil tapped the nearest ruffian on the shoulder. "Lay off, boys," he -commanded, with a meaningful nod toward his own party. Buck at least -looked his way and Otie growled. The bearded ruffians slunk off. Phil -made Phoebe a tiny bow.</p> - -<p>"Thank you," she said weakly and astoundedly.</p> - -<p>He gestured that it was a mere nothing and walked off.</p> - -<p>"Say," she asked, hurrying after him and dragging her escort with her, -"did you ever find that green cat of yours?"</p> - -<p>He smiled at her. "No," he said, "but I'm going to."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>X</h2> - - -<p>"And how did you plan to get inside when the place is closed for the -night?" Carstairs prodded sardonically.</p> - -<p>For answer Phil cocked his eyebrows defiantly and gave the restaurant -door a smart shove. It swung silently inward. He led them in haughtily, -vaguely aware that Llewellyn was examining the lock.</p> - -<p>The long room was very dark. It smelled stalely of people and liquor -and seared meat; Phil even thought he could distinguish Juno's burned -rabbit chops. Otie snuffed eagerly and tugged Buck forward by his -leash. Phil steered their course confidently between the counter and -the booths. He was feeling particularly pleased with himself because -Mitzie had found opportunity to ask him for his address on the way over.</p> - -<p>"All right, all right," he heard Carstairs whisper behind him to -Llewellyn, "so the lock was burned. Somebody's ahead of us. We'll be -watching out."</p> - -<p>Phil pushed open the door to the stairs, and hesitated. Inside it was -now completely black.</p> - -<p>Something hissed softly beside him and a luminescent cone puffed out. A -couple of seconds later, the half dozen treads of the stairway glowed -milkily.</p> - -<p>Buck chuckled inches from Phil's ear. "Lum'niscint mist," he explained -with professional casualness. "You get going. I'll spray."</p> - -<p>Phil started up, the milky surface light keeping two or three treads -ahead of him in blobby advances. The mist got on Otie, so that he -glowed like the Hound of the Baskervilles. Some of it even got on -Phil's trouser bottoms and sockasins.</p> - -<p>"We're certainly marked if we have to run away and hide," Phil -commented dubiously as he reached the corridor he and Juno had come -through and then took the unknown way upward.</p> - -<p>"Uh-uh," Buck chuckled wisely, "'cause I'm spraying a neutralizer -behind us." He directed at Phil's feet a dark, faintly hissing -cannister and Phil's feet blacked out, along with a blob of surrounding -treads. Looking back, Phil saw that the glow on the stairs vanished -abruptly. He could not see Mitzie, Carstairs, and Llewellyn.</p> - -<p>He asked Buck, "How do you manage two cannisters and Otie all at the -same time?"</p> - -<p>"Hell, I could aim a squirrel rifle and run a still in addition," Buck -assured him.</p> - -<p>Phil became aware of a dim radiance above him, beyond the range of -Buck's mist. Buck hurriedly neutralized all the luminescence, including -that on Otie and Phil. Phil cautiously went up the last ten treads, -the upper radiance increasing all the while, and found himself in a -shadowy, curving corridor. His steps got shorter and shorter, then -stopped.</p> - -<p>A couple yards ahead lay three swollen furry shapes, each with a half -dozen slim black things stuck into them, like feathered darts.</p> - -<p>He recognized at least two of the dead cats. Although grotesquely -puffed up, their markings told him they were a Siamese and a short hair -he had seen at the Akeleys'.</p> - -<p>"Watch it!" he heard Carstairs whisper, but at the same instant Otie -jerked away from Buck and moved swiftly forward, his leash trailing, -to snuff at the nearest swollen shape. The tail of the dart next to -Otie's nose began to revolve with a faint, feathery rustle. Otie became -tensely still, disregarding his master's anxious, "Back, Otie!" The -rustle became a whirr. Otie suddenly snapped sidewise at the dart, but -at the same instant the dart withdrew quickly from the dead cat. Otie's -teeth clashed emptily. The dart hovered a few feet in the air, just -like a huge black wasp. "Don't anybody go closer," Carstairs ordered -hoarsely. Buck grabbed for the end of the leash, but it was flirted -away from his hand when Otie abruptly changed position, watching the -dart with deadly intentness.</p> - -<p>The whirr became a loud sinister buzz. There were two quick <i>zings</i> and -the hovering dart trembled like a blown candle flame. Half turning, -Phil saw that Carstairs was shooting at it with some sort of airgun. -The dart began to waltz in little loops. Otie leaped straight up and -snapped at it as a dog might at a bee, but the dart curtsied away.</p> - -<p>Buck's "Back, Otie," was desperate. Otie stayed on his feet and -batted at the dart with his paws. There were more futile <i>zings</i> from -Carstairs' airgun. The dart looped back and hovered in front of Otie's -muzzle. As he opened his jaws for a snap, it shot down his throat.</p> - -<p>Otie, his eyes and jaws open wide, beat the air with his paws. Then he -dropped to all fours and hurled himself off at top speed. He slammed -against a wall, got up with difficulty, trembled over to Buck, and fell -down and didn't move. It seemed to Phil that the gaunt creature was -taking a deep breath, and then Phil suddenly felt sick, for the coyote -was beginning to swell.</p> - -<p>"Don't touch him!" Carstairs shouted, but Buck was keeping his -distance. Carstairs came up beside Buck and leaned prudently forward, -his bangs swinging out from his forehead. "Always did want to see one -of those things in action," he said softly.</p> - -<p>"They're what they call singular missiles, aren't they?" Llewellyn -asked fascinatedly, coming up. "Anti-individual, I mean."</p> - -<p>Carstairs nodded. "Used them in the last cold war, though hardly any -rumors got out. They were for assassinations. The FBL and the Russkies -could tell tales. They're supposed to be driven by a tiny, ion-emitting -radioactive fan. I wish I had a counter so I could know. And of course, -they home on the radiant heat of flesh and then inject a poison."</p> - -<p>Buck muttered, "Otie." The coyote's puffed eyes turned toward him, then -glazed over. Buck jerked up and made a derisive noise. "Always was a -dumb pooch," he said harshly. Mitzie, drawn even with Llewellyn, looked -on coldly.</p> - -<p>Phil started ahead, drugs battling nausea inside him, so that the dim -corridor seemed both vivid and unreal.</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?" Carstairs demanded.</p> - -<p>Phil shrugged. "To find what I came for," he said hazily.</p> - -<p>"Well, keep away from the cats," Carstairs called after him softly, but -Phil was already hugging the wall.</p> - -<p>"How we know those sing'lar missiles won't heat up and go for us like -they went for Otie?" he heard Buck demand fretfully.</p> - -<p>"The others got through, didn't they?" Carstairs said irritably.</p> - -<p>"What others?" Phil heard Buck ask.</p> - -<p>"The ones who burnt the lock on the door, the ones who threw the cats -ahead of them to draw the missiles," Carstairs told him impatiently. -"Incidentally, if any of the missiles start spinning their tails, you -might by throwing your coat over them."</p> - -<p>Beyond the dead cats, Phil came to a silvery mesh barricade with -several jagged cuts in it, three of them making a crude doorway. The -mesh looked fine and strong enough to have kept the wasps on this side. -He stepped over the fallen section of mesh. The cut ends of silvery -wire were rounded and fused, as if by great heat.</p> - -<p>Just beyond the mesh lay a chunky man in a gray, company guard uniform. -He had a gun in his hand. He was intact except that the top of his head -had rolled about a foot away. It had been sliced off tidily just above -the nose by something hot. Phil remembered how neatly the blue needle -had sliced the steel beam. He hurried past toward an open arch just -ahead, and jerked back from a large gray snake coiled there. Then he -saw that the snake was a robot doorman like Old Rubberarm, and looking -higher he saw that it had been sliced off close to the wall.</p> - -<p>Mitzie and the rest came through the mesh. Carstairs kneeled eagerly by -the dead man and examined the gun he was clasping, but a moment later -got up with a shrug.</p> - -<p>"Not an ortho, eh?" Buck inquired. "Usin' those sing'lar missiles, -you'd think they'd be up to date in other things."</p> - -<p>"No, just an ordinary gas gun," Carstairs told him. "But we can be -pretty sure his head wasn't taken off by a red hot buzz saw. The others -must have orthos." He turned on Phil and grabbed him by the lapels of -his jacket. "Look here, clown," he said quietly, "who are those others? -You must have known someone was going to break in here tonight. You -were counting on that door being open."</p> - -<p>"We are a bit like jackals, aren't we?" Phil remarked dreamily.</p> - -<p>Carstairs twisted his jacket. "Who were they?"</p> - -<p>Phil didn't react, but he did jerk around suddenly when he heard Moe -Brimstine say metallically, "Whatcha want, Mack?"</p> - -<p>Llewellyn had pulled out the stub of gray robot arm sticking from the -wall.</p> - -<p>"Quit that," Carstairs ordered curtly, letting go of Phil.</p> - -<p>"Take it easy, Carstie old boy," Llewellyn said with a smiling flash of -white teeth. "Here's a bit of an odd thing. See where whatever sliced -this robot arm cut into the wall beyond? Well, follow back from the cut -in a straight line through the slice in the robot arm."</p> - -<p>Like the others, Phil followed Llewellyn's directions and saw that the -straight line ended in a deep cut in the floor a half dozen feet behind -them.</p> - -<p>"I don't git it," Buck said. "You mean somebody shot some kind of beam -from the next floor under us?"</p> - -<p>Llewellyn said, "Hardly. The evidence points to a gun that shoots -in opposite directions at the same time. I fancy that if we'd have -looked behind us at the head of the stairs, we'd have seen some cuts -mirror-imaging those in the mesh."</p> - -<p>He thinned his eyes at Carstairs. "I'm beginning to think orthos are -rather strange weapons, Carstie old boy." He glanced at Phil. "You said -they're blue and sizzle, Mr. Gish. Do they also backfire?"</p> - -<p>"Say, look at this here communicator," Buck interrupted. He had been -poking around the side of the corridor behind the guard. "One button's -got a new-looking gadget rigged up to it that's pushed it twice now -while I've been watching."</p> - -<p>"Don't touch it," Carstairs said. "It's probably a button Headless here -is supposed to thumb every so often to show he's on guard. Whoever -broke in ahead of us knows their business. Once more, clown, who were -they?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah, talk," Buck said, coming up beside Carstairs. "I figure you're -responsible for my Otie gettin' killed."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, do," Llewellyn said, at the same moment letting go of the stub -arm which contracted toward the wall until it was like a wrinkled scar, -while at the same time, as though internal injuries were now showing -up in the thing, a broken clockworks version of Moe Brimstine's voice -wheezed, "That's right, Mack. Go away and stay away."</p> - -<p>In the moment while that eerie and ominous admonition held everyone -else stock-still, Phil walked with drugged aplomb past Llewellyn and -through the arch.</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen," he said, "I imagine you would like to inspect the treasure -house."</p> - -<p>He faced a room that was not extremely high ceilinged, but so wide -and long that the only clearly visible wall was the one against which -they were standing. The room was not brightly lit, yet it seemed so -because of the brightness of the two sorts of ranked objects on which -the light fell. To the left were row on endless row of sales-robots, -shiny high turtle shapes with a smaller dome set on the main one, the -same efficient metal hucksters that daily and eveningly roamed the -streets, guiding themselves and spotting customers by hypersonic radar -and visual scanner. Only now their fascinating windows for displaying -samples were closed, their money collecting and commodity bestowing -arms were neatly folded, the restless wheels under their metal skirts -were still, and their dulcet voices rich with a restrained sex appeal -suitable to robots (male voices for females, female for males, -sprightly and wise-cracking for children) were likewise silent.</p> - -<p>To the right, marshaled with equal precision, were a host of -dress-display robots, arrayed in everything from high collared -sable evening cloaks to bathing jewelry. Their hair gleamed with -a hundred tints, their suede-rubber skins glowed with a creamy -seductiveness, they held themselves with the poise of princesses, but -like the sales-robots they were still. No slinky parading, no cute -individualized gestures, no mysterious or haughty smiles, no soft lips -opening to recite the qualities and prices of the garments they were -modeling. They all stared straight ahead like Egyptian mummies not yet -wrapped and indeed one, appropriately crowned and clad in a filmy -sheath, was a precise copy of Nefertiti.</p> - -<p>It occurred to Phil that the ranked sales-robots and dress-display -robots really were a military display, that he was looking at the armed -might—the money army and the glamor army—of Fun Incorporated.</p> - -<p>Llewellyn was the first to break the silence. He darted to the nearest -sales-robot, made some practiced manipulations, and then there was a -clinking and he was waving a green and silver handful and his teeth and -the whites of his eyes shone gleefully in his black face.</p> - -<p>"They're still carrying the day's cash!" he called softly.</p> - -<p>Buck looked from the money army to the glamor army with greedy -indecision. When Carstairs snorted contemptuously, he trotted over to -help Llewellyn, who was methodically working his way down the first row -of sales-robots.</p> - -<p>Despite his show of greater self control, it was obvious that -Carstairs' hands were itching too. He looked at Phil uncertainly. Then, -"Wake up, Mitz," he commanded sharply. She obediently turned toward him -an oddly incurious face. "Mitz," he went on, "I want you to guard the -clown. If he tries to get away or goes for any buttons, use your shiv -on him." She nodded.</p> - -<p>"Hey," Buck called in an excited stage whisper, "I think we're coming -to some that are gambling robots."</p> - -<p>But Carstairs didn't go at once, although he was noiselessly snapping -his fingers in an excess of impatience. He studied Mitzie fiercely. -"You get it, Mitz? I don't want any slip-ups. You made one already -today. Not that I believe for a minute you're soft on the clown, but -you've acted a bit silly around him. There mustn't be any more of that. -Understand?"</p> - -<p>This time her nod, though mute as the first, seemed to satisfy him and -he rushed off to join Llewellyn and Buck.</p> - -<p>At the same instant Phil quietly turned around and walked through an -archway just beside the one through which they had entered the big -room. He hadn't taken ten steps down the curving corridor before Mitzie -had whirled past him and poised herself squarely in his path.</p> - -<p>"Get back," she whispered. The hand directing the ten-inch knife at -Phil's chest didn't waver enough to make the frosty highlights on it -flicker.</p> - -<p>Phil smiled at her. "Mitzie," he said gently, "your friends have found -what they came for, but I haven't. You're going to let me go past."</p> - -<p>She spat her denial and advanced the knife so that it touched his shirt.</p> - -<p>Phil didn't budge. "You're going to let me go past," he repeated -softly, "because you're not sure any more that being cruel and smart, -and if need be deadly, is the right way to face the world. You're -not sure any more that the approval of your gang is the only thing -that matters. Incidentally, it's a pretty grudging approval, Mitzie, -something you've had to sit up and do tricks for like that other dumb -pooch, and your comradeship with them isn't at all the romantic, until -death, one for all and all for one thing you pretend it is. But I -haven't the time to tell you any more about that now, because I've got -my business and I've got to get on with it."</p> - -<p>"Get back," she snarled. But Phil, although the knife now pricked his -chest, knew it was no longer a command but a plea.</p> - -<p>"I'm going past now, Mitzie," Phil murmured and walked ahead into the -knife. For about two feet it drew back at exactly the same speed with -which he walked into it, then it was whipped suddenly to one side, and -as he passed Mitzie he caught the choked off beginning of a sob.</p> - -<p>Neither of them made another sound. He looked back once and saw her -profile in the light from the big room, and the slack line of her -shoulder and the arm holding the knife. Often faces look unexpectedly -weak in profile, but Phil felt he'd never seen one that also looked so -tragically lost.</p> - -<p>Its image haunted him as the curving corridor grew darker and then -lighter again and then made a very sharp turn and unexpectedly emerged -into a long, richly furnished room. He blundered a step forward before -he saw there were three people at the far end and that one of them -was Moe Brimstine. They weren't looking his way and he could have -ducked back out of sight easily enough, but he hurried it too much and -brushed against a slim pillar topped by a small aquarium in which tiny -pink, green and violet octopuses clung and swam. The pillar teetered -dangerously. Stumbling as he grabbed to steady it, he fell out into the -room with it and thudded into the foam flooring, as the water and the -candy colored octopuses gushed all over.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XI</h2> - - -<p>After a couple of seconds Phil decided regretfully that keeping himself -scrunched against the yielding floor with both eyes tightly closed was -not going to help. He opened them cautiously, blinked at the flooring, -and tried to nerve himself to look up. Meanwhile:</p> - -<p>"Brimstine, what's keeping that FBL man?"</p> - -<p>"Now don't worry, Mr. Billig. He'll be here any minute."</p> - -<p>"I'm beginning to doubt it. What if they're lying about sending a man, -and actually they're planning to raid us, counting on picking up the -green cat when they do?"</p> - -<p>"The government wouldn't dare do that, Mr. Billig. They need the green -cat, or they think they do."</p> - -<p>"Then why isn't that FBL man here?"</p> - -<p>"I tell you not to worry, Mr. Billig. Relax. Let Dora stroke your -forehead."</p> - -<p>"Pfui!"</p> - -<p>Considerably puzzled, Phil lifted his chin off the flooring and -cautiously swiveled his head. The Mr. Billig he'd heard mentioned -with so much awe turned out to be a very gaunt dark man who looked -at first glance thirty, at second seventy, and at third a mystery to -which youth-prolonging hormones might provide a clue. He was dressed in -severely cut black sports togs. Moe Brimstine bulked a lot bigger, but -only physically—his blunt manner had altered to that of a servant with -clownish privileges. Even his black glasses now looked a trifle comic.</p> - -<p>The other member of the trio was a breathtakingly beautiful violet -blonde whose dress consisted of an endless spiral of fine silver wire -over a white satin sheath. She was sitting on a table, watching the -others with a cold smile. Mr. Billig was pacing steadily as if engaged -in some kind of road-work, while Moe Brimstine was hovering behind him -like an anxious trainer.</p> - -<p>But to Phil the one overwhelming fact was that they weren't paying any -attention to him at all. Apparently his crashing with the aquarium -into the room hadn't been of enough importance to rate a glance—or if -there had been a glance, it had been a mighty short one. Besides being -utterly mystified and quite frightened, Phil felt a bit piqued.</p> - -<p>"I don't think you should take that attitude toward Dora, Mr. Billig," -Moe Brimstine was saying. "She's a very clever girl; just how clever -even you might enjoy finding out. Isn't that right, Dora?"</p> - -<p>"I am infinitely skilled in giving pleasure to men, women and -children," Dora said with a yawn. "Among other things I have memorized -all the important pornographic books written since the dawn of history."</p> - -<p>"Pfui and trash! Brimstine, you still don't seem to realize just how -serious this is. I guess I should tell you that, according to my latest -information, the government is all set to indict not only three of -our governors and a half hundred of our mayors, but also four of our -national senators and a dozen of our representatives."</p> - -<p>This news did seem to take Moe Brimstine aback. "But that's the whole -lot," he said softly.</p> - -<p>"Not quite, but almost," Billig snapped.</p> - -<p>"It would mean the absolute finish of Fun Incorporated."</p> - -<p>"And what have I been saying to you?" Billig demanded.</p> - -<p>Phil sat up a bit morosely and settled his chin on the back of his -right hand to watch them. This maneuver attracted no attention -whatsoever. He gave up trying to figure it out.</p> - -<p>Moe Brimstine had recovered his spirits with a happy shrug. "Anyhow, -you've got the green cat, so you're safe."</p> - -<p>"Have I got it?" Billig demanded, stopping his pacing. "How well have -you got that cat locked up, Brimstine?"</p> - -<p>"Look, Mr. Billig, I got it in a copper cage where nobody can get at it -and it can't get at nobody, even electronically. Besides, it's still -stunned. You can't ask for more than that, can you?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe not," Billig allowed grudgingly. "But then I come back to my -other point: How can we be sure the government needs the cat so badly -they'll be willing to quash all those indictments in exchange for it?"</p> - -<p>"Now, don't worry about that, Mr. Billig. That's one thing we can be -sure of. We've known for at least a month that finding that cat has -been the absolute top priority, top secret job of the FBL, the FBI and -the special secret service."</p> - -<p>"But why should it be?" Billig was pacing again. "Just a funny colored -animal. It doesn't make sense."</p> - -<p>"Look, Mr. Billig, we've been all through this before. They're -absolutely convinced that cat is terribly dangerous. They think it can -control minds and change personalities, and they seem to think they -have cases to prove it, including four top officials who've managed to -skip the country, apparently headed for Russia. They've taken all sorts -of secret steps, not only to find the cat, but to guard the president -and all important officials from any possible contact with it. As far -as our information goes, the first government theory was that the cat -came from Russia, that the Lysenko view of genetics was true and that -the Russkies were able to breed intelligent animals with extrasensory -powers, for use as spies and saboteurs and possibly to replace a large -part of the world's population. But now the government seems to believe -that the cat is a mutant or monster of some sort and that it's in a -position to conquer America—the whole world even—by controlling -feelings and thoughts."</p> - -<p>Phil sat up indignantly. He wanted to say, "Why, Lucky isn't like that -at all." In his interest in the conversation, he had almost forgotten -his incredible situation.</p> - -<p>"I know, I know," Billig was saying, "but what do you think about it, -Brimstine?"</p> - -<p>Brimstine shrugged. "I think they're nuts," he said happily. "The cat -didn't seem anything peculiar to me, though I'm taking no chances. I -think it's all a grade-A delusion, a top secret panic."</p> - -<p>"You think they're nuts and you expect me not to worry," Billig -groaned. "Where's that FBL man?"</p> - -<p>"On his way," Brimstine assured him. "Everything's going to turn out -all right."</p> - -<p>"That's what you told me when the president first started to take -action against Fun," Billig flared. "You said it was just a bluff, a -sop to the midwestern vote. You told me Barnes was a drunken farmer who -could be got at twenty ways. You told me it would all blow over, like -the other six times. Well, it didn't. Something happened that changed -things."</p> - -<p>"I know," Brimstine admitted, seeming for once at a loss for easy words.</p> - -<p>"Do you know yet what happened?" Billig pressed.</p> - -<p>Brimstine shrugged. "I think Barnes is nuts."</p> - -<p>"That's your explanation for everything!" Billig roared softly. "If -something happens this time, do you suppose I'll be happy because you -tell me the coppers arresting me are nuts? Where <i>is</i> the FBL man?"</p> - -<p>"You really should try and relax, I tell you, Mr. Billig," Moe -Brimstine suggested, recovering himself. "Distract yourself somehow. -Like with Dora here." And ignoring Billig's third, "Pfui," Brimstine -looked at her critically. "Fix your mouth, dear," he said.</p> - -<p>With a graceful obedience that nevertheless managed to be contemptuous -the violet blonde beauty slid from the table and came straight toward -Phil, who decided that now at last they'd have to stop pretending he -wasn't there.</p> - -<p>"Get that slinky walk, Mr. Billig," Moe Brimstine was urging. "What a -gorgeous babe, eh?"</p> - -<p>She tossed her head, stopped six feet short of Phil, took out a -lipstick, looked straight ahead of her, and very carefully made up her -lips. At the same time something cold and sucking closed on the fingers -of Phil's left hand. He instinctively flipped it, and a tiny pink -octopus sailed through the air toward the girl and flattened itself -against something in the air about two feet short of her.</p> - -<p>Phil watched it clinging there and felt his mind swell to bursting, as -if he'd had another shot of Tan Jet lemonade. Then he got up, walked -cautiously forward, and felt.</p> - -<p>There was an invisible flat surface, extending as far as he could -reach, between himself and the other half of the room. He realized he -was on the viewing side of a one-way mirror bisecting the room. Dora, -standing so close he could otherwise have touched her, turned, and as -she did so, her skirt brushed the other side of the surface. He saw it -was at least two inches from the side to which the octopus still clung. -A mirror would hardly be that thick. It must consist of two panes -probably with the space between them evacuated. For as he realized with -a new surprise, he must not be hearing their voices directly, but a -miked and transmitted version of them, which in turn must be binaural, -so that they would be heard in depth and the proper direction.</p> - -<p>Confirming this, he noted that the voices did not localize quite -as perfectly as they had seemed to before he had caught on to the -illusion. Also, the depth effect was a bit too rich, as if the mikes -were more than ears-distance apart.</p> - -<p>He also saw that all sources of illumination were beyond the panel.</p> - -<p>But now that he knew they were not ignoring him, but simply unaware of -his presence, he felt very much the burglar and very uneasy. He looked -nervously back along the corridor he'd traveled and ahead along its -darker and straighter continuation that, also this side of the panel, -led out of the room. He asked himself why Billig should have the setup -arranged and the sound turned on so that he and Brimstine and Dora -could be spied on. It didn't make sense. Although he was protected, -Phil felt a shiver legging it up his spine.</p> - -<p>He might have left the spy chamber but at that moment Moe Brimstine put -down a phone and said excitedly, "He's coming!" whereupon Billig at -once stopped pacing and became as cool and unworried as dark tranquil -water. He pointedly did not look at the archway beyond him, though -Brimstine did.</p> - -<p>A man came through the archway and stopped. He held his spine and the -expression of his face very straight. His hair was touched with gray -and his face showed years of worry—but not Billig's kind.</p> - -<p>Billig looked at him with a questioning smile that barely stopped -short of a smirk. He waited a moment and said softly, "Under the -circumstances, I suppose you do not care to use your name, but—"</p> - -<p>"It's Dave Greeley," the other said bluntly.</p> - -<p>"—but I do suppose that you come from the Federal Bureau of Loyalty -and that you are fully empowered to deal for the services and the -president?"</p> - -<p>The other nodded once.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Greeley, Mr. Brimstine," Billig said with a gracious wave of -his arm that reminded Phil of the swaying of a snake. "Mr. Greeley, -Dora ... er, Dora Pannes."</p> - -<p>The government man barely acknowledged the introductions.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Billig," he said, "you tell us you have the green cat. If you -have, we'll buy it."</p> - -<p>"And what will you pay?" Billig murmured.</p> - -<p>"The Moreland-McCartney letters, proving the graft those senators -received from Fun Incorporated, plus all related recording and -microwave taps. Similar material in sixty-odd other cases, which I -hardly need enumerate to you in detail."</p> - -<p>"Not enough," Billig said softly.</p> - -<p>Greeley hesitated. "Of course, I could appeal to you," he said in a -different voice; "simply as Americans, as citizens of this hemisphere -facing a deadly danger—"</p> - -<p>"Please, Mr. Greeley," Billig said with a chuckle.</p> - -<p>Greeley shut his lips tight. When he opened them, his earlier voice -spoke.</p> - -<p>"Letters of confidence on all the indicted officials, dated today and -signed and thumbprinted by the president and all the service heads, -with confirming vocal recordings and pictures of the recordings being -made. Naturally our experts will have to examine the cat before the -exchange is made. They can be here in twenty minutes."</p> - -<p>"That is better," Billig murmured, "quite a bit better. But not enough."</p> - -<p>"What else do you want?" Greeley demanded angrily, but it seemed to -Phil that he knew.</p> - -<p>"The witnesses, delivered into our hands," Billig said. "O'Malley, -Fattori, Madelin Luszcak, and the thirty-odd—no, I'll be -precise—thirty-four others."</p> - -<p>"That's out," Greeley said sharply. "I can't offer to pay you in human -lives."</p> - -<p>"Who mentioned anything like that?" Billig asked mildly. "I didn't, -did I, Moe? It's just that we'd feel safer with the witnesses in our -protective custody rather than yours."</p> - -<p>"You know what you'd do to them," Greeley said.</p> - -<p>Billig shrugged. "You wouldn't have to think about it. In any case, -there are ways to forget." And he glanced at Dora, who flashed the FBL -man a lazy, provocative smile.</p> - -<p>Greeley flushed. For a few seconds he seemed to be concentrating on -his breathing. "Look here, Billig," he said finally, "don't get the -idea that either I or the government feels anything but loathing and -detestation for you. Fun Incorporated has corrupted a third of a -nation, and we have your headquarters here and in twenty cities so well -cordoned a wasp couldn't get out. The sole reason we haven't smashed -you is that you tell us you've captured something that is a little -more dangerous to America than even your rotten organization. But our -patience is wearing thin. We suspect a bluff, in spite of those green -hairs you sent us. Make a deal while you can."</p> - -<p>"The chemical and physical analysis of the hair must have shown your -experts something very interesting," Billig murmured with a reflective -smile. "Like you say, Mr. Greeley, we have something you can't do -without. Something worth roughly—shall we say a third of a nation? It -seems to me that we are letting you off very cheaply. Consider what the -Russkies might be willing to pay. So I'm afraid the witnesses are an -essential part of the exchange. In fact, I'm certain."</p> - -<p>"I'm warning you," Greeley flared, "that I'm in full charge of Project -Kitty under Emmet and that I've advised Emmet and the president to -break off the deal and raid if you insist on that condition."</p> - -<p>"You've advised," Billig replied, "and you're under Emmet. I'm only -interested in what Barnes and Emmet have advised."</p> - -<p>Greeley looked as if he wished he were deaf and dumb. His hands -clenched and slowly unclenched. He set himself to speak.</p> - -<p>Just then a phone-light blinked. Moe Brimstine snatched it up, -obviously prepared to roar out a rebuke and slam it down. Instead he -listened silently, and kept on listening. Greeley watched him intently.</p> - -<p>At that moment, Phil heard the soft kiss of a door slitting open and -faint footsteps drabber in quality than the binaural richness of the -stuff he'd been listening to. He looked down the straight dark corridor -on his side of the panel. Some forty feet down it, where it ended in -a T, light now flooded across. Then Phil saw Dr. Romadka cross the -corridor at that point. The analyst was still carrying his black bag. -In the other hand was a gun. He disappeared from sight.</p> - -<p>"You better take this, Mr. Billig."</p> - -<p>Phil switched around just in time to see Billig grab the phone from -Brimstine with a glare. "Three of them?" Billig's words were staccato. -"And a fourth man and a girl, they said? And what did they tell you the -fourth man wanted? I don't care if it sounds silly! <i>What?</i>"</p> - -<p>Holding the phone, Billig spared Greeley a glance. "We're going to have -to delay making final arrangements for a few minutes," he said curtly. -"Dora will entertain you."</p> - -<p>"You can't delay," Greeley assured him with a sudden note of triumph. -"The raid starts in ten minutes unless I return. Besides, there's only -one thing important enough to make you interrupt this interview. You've -lost the green cat, or you're afraid you have."</p> - -<p>"I know Emmet would allow more time than that, even if he didn't -tell you," Billig snapped back at him. "Put Benson in charge of him, -Brimstine. Then come back."</p> - -<p>"Let me contact Emmet," Greeley said quickly. "We'll cooperate with -you fully in finding the cat. You have my word the indictments will be -quashed."</p> - -<p>"Word! Take him out," Billig said sharply.</p> - -<p>Greeley, lifting his elbow contemptuously away from Brimstine's hand, -started with him out of the room. Dora accompanied them. Greeley -pointedly edged away from her.</p> - -<p>"Don't be frightened, lambie," the violet blonde told him, "I'm just -bound for the little girl's room."</p> - -<p>Billig lifted the phone. But before he'd quite got it to his ear and -mouth, the skin around his eyes contracted with sudden suspicion and he -gazed toward Phil, or rather toward a point near Phil, so sharply that -the latter would have sprinted off, except he could not decide for a -second which way.</p> - -<p>Then the spread two first fingers of Billig's right hand struck like a -serpent's fangs at two buttons.</p> - -<p>Lights flared around Phil, everything was suddenly very still, and Phil -saw himself in a bright mirror that hid Billig and halved the length of -the room. His reflection, although fully clothed, had the expression -of a man caught naked in public. He hesitated for another desperate -second, frozen by the thought that the mirror was one great eye, then -ran down the straight corridor. He came to the T and whisked around -the corner in the direction Romadka had gone, until he heard footsteps -ahead and pounding toward him. He darted back the way Romadka had come -and found himself in a brightly lit room chiefly occupied by a heavy -copper cage with less than an inch between the bars.</p> - -<p>But one corner of the cage had been neatly sliced off and rested on -the floor beside it like a little three-sided orange tent. Phil looked -around for a way out and saw nothing but bright white wall marred only -by a deep cut in the same plane as the slice through the cage. His -circling look ended at the door through which he'd come. Mr. Billig -and Moe Brimstine were standing in it. Brimstine held a stun-gun, -Mr. Billig a larger weapon which, while pointing it at Phil, he held -carefully out from his side.</p> - -<p>"All right," Billig said, "what have you done with the green cat?"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XII</h2> - - -<p>It couldn't have been three minutes since Phil's capture, yet it -seemed that he had been listening to Mr. Billig for years. He was -sitting apprehensively on a stool in a long low room to which he had -been conducted by two men in sober sports togs—obviously a cut above -company guards—whom Mr. Billig addressed as Harris and Hayes. Along -one of the long sides of the room were windows and a doorway leading -onto a balcony of some sort, beyond which yawned perplexing darkness. -Harris and Hayes stood behind Phil while Billig paced in front of him.</p> - -<p>Just now the voice that was like a tape played at triple speed, but -not so high-pitched, was saying, "Have you ever pictured $10,000,000 -concretely? Think of it this way: a yacht on the Amazon, bubble-dome -cabin, your private copter, a blonde, a brunette, and a red-head, -yourself absolute monarch of a very interesting microcosm. Doesn't it -appeal to you?"</p> - -<p>"But I didn't take the green cat," Phil replied quickly—Billig's speed -was catching. "I don't know where it is."</p> - -<p>"What do you want then?" Billig demanded. "Or like most people, are you -afraid to say? Tell me, I've heard everything."</p> - -<p>Phil opened his mouth, thought of Lucky, and said nothing.</p> - -<p>"Hit him, Harris," Billig ordered, "and don't be all day about it!"</p> - -<p>Pain bounced like a steel ball back and forth inside Phil's skull at -Harris' dispassionate swipes. At the last one Phil felt his head go -numb and his thoughts glassy. Harris' bank cashier face swam out of -sight, to be replaced by Billig's smooth mask with its lurking host of -wrinkles.</p> - -<p>Billig produced the gun he'd been carrying when Phil was caught. He -informed Phil, "I propose to cut your limbs off, one by one. The beam -burns, which keeps you from bleeding too fast."</p> - -<p>All Phil's glazed mind could think was how ludicrous the word "limb" -was. He wondered if Billig considered him a tree. Billig's head -persisted in circling Phil like a small planet, though that may only -have been the room swimming. Suddenly Phil stuck out an arm.</p> - -<p>"All right," he informed Billig, "begin with this. Don't hurt the -leaves."</p> - -<p>Billig lowered the gun. "You hit him too hard," he told Harris, "or -else he likes it. There are other kinds of pain. Where's Brimstine? I -told him he had only two minutes to find Jack. Hayes, frisk this man."</p> - -<p>Slim fingers rippled through Phil's pockets and tossed Billig -commonplace items. When the hand went for his right hand pocket, Phil -had a belated memory and made a move to prevent it, but Harris grabbed -his arms from behind.</p> - -<p>Hayes carefully handed Billig the figurine of Mitzie Romadka in black, -off-the-bosom frock.</p> - -<p>Billig rattled softly to Hayes, "I'd swear this is Mary -what's-her-name's work—the girl who used to do strip-tease dolls for -us. She always had a touch and now it's got better." He fingered the -doll delicately, studying the reactions in Phil's face. "Do you want -her?" he asked suddenly. "Would it pain you to see her hurt?" He made -as if to wring the doll's head off, then quickly set it on a table -beside him and threw up his hands. "Where <i>is</i> Brimstine!"</p> - -<p>"Here," the latter announced, hulking into the room like a bear in a -great hurry. "I've located Jack. And we've caught the girl the three -hep-jerks blabbed about. She lined herself up with the dress-display -robots and might have passed herself off as one, but she sneezed."</p> - -<p>Mitzie was marched into the room, her hands twisted behind her by Dora, -whose face wore a disdainful smile that now seemed spiced with cruelty. -The analyst's daughter had lost her evening cape and her long dark hair -hung half over one eye. She held her chin up, as one who has struggled, -found it no use, yet not really submitted. She saw Phil and looked away -from him proudly, as if her being caught had wiped out the problem into -which he had plunged her.</p> - -<p>"Ah, the original," Billig observed, looking up from the figurine, -which he deftly pocketed. "Darling," he said, walking toward Mitzie, -"would you care to be featured in coast-to-coast living ads, or sit -for a line of ultra deluxe dress-display robots; would you like to be -a handie star, ambassadress to Brazil, or become my girl Friday and be -in on everything interesting that goes on in the world; would you take -$10,000,000? Just tell us what you've done with the green cat."</p> - -<p>Mitzie answered the five-second barrage with a shrug of her upper -lip. "Darling, I'm serious," Billig assured her. "This is a lifetime -opportunity and you're a very nice girl." And he made as if to caress -her shoulder affectionately, but instead whipped around to catch Phil's -reaction.</p> - -<p>Jack Jones ran into the room and whisked to a stop. He glanced at Phil -as if he didn't know him and then saluted Billig sardonically.</p> - -<p>"What are you standing around for?" Billig demanded. "Get to work. -Hayes, I want those three hep-jerks in here."</p> - -<p>Phil tried to squirm away from Harris' seemingly casual grip. And then -Jack's fingers were digging at nerves and pain was not a steel ball but -a fiery plant's red hot roots and million rootlets finding an instant -way through every crevice between the cells of his body. He heard -himself squealing, "Romadka! Romadka!" The pain lessened and he babbled -swiftly, "Dr. Romadka stole the cat. I saw him coming out of the room -where the cage is, carrying his black bag. The cat must have been -inside."</p> - -<p>"Who's this Romadka?" Billig whipped at him.</p> - -<p>"An analyst," Phil gasped weakly. He nodded at Jack Jones. "He can tell -you about him."</p> - -<p>"I never heard of the man," Jack asserted instantly.</p> - -<p>"You did," Phil mumbled desperately. "You saw how he was after me -tonight. You must have guessed he was after the green cat."</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head curtly. "He's making it up," he assured Billig.</p> - -<p>Across the room Brimstine put down a phone and called to Billig, -"Benson says Greeley's acting cool as they come, still confident the -raid will start when he said."</p> - -<p>"Well, don't freeze!" Billig rapped exasperatedly at Jack. "Get back to -work on him."</p> - -<p>As the small terrible hands approached, Phil looked imploringly at -Mitzie.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Anton Romadka is my father," she said coldly, "reputed to be a -great psychoanalyst. This hysteric you're wasting time on is one of his -patients."</p> - -<p>"Darling, why didn't you say so before?" Billig asked her joyfully. -"Dora, let go of her wrists at once!" The violet blonde complied with a -cynical hop of her slim eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"Darling, it escaped my mind she was still doing that, I'm sorry," -Billig assured Mitzie as he glided towards her, his feet moving -almost as glibly as his tongue. "Darling, it's very clear to me now: -this hysteric, as you accurately describe him, stole the cat on your -father's orders and handed it to your father, whom I can see you don't -like and who probably forced you to come along. Now just tell us where -your father is, or where you think he is, darling, and you'll have, not -one, but all of those things I mentioned to you a half-minute back."</p> - -<p>"My father hasn't skill enough to burgle a banana-vending robot," -Mitzie snapped at him. "You're as stupid and conceited and unbalanced -as all men, only faster. You think because something clever has been -done, a man must have done it. My father's a rotten analyst, but you -could use a few sessions with him."</p> - -<p>"Darling, we're not going to get anywhere if you talk that way," Billig -assured her laughingly. "Realize it, darling, you're among friends and -well-wishers." And he took her arm with a paternal amiability.</p> - -<p>Mitzie's right hand was a blurred arc and Billig sashayed back with -four bright red lines on his left cheek.</p> - -<p>"Grab her, Dora!" Billig ordered. The violet blonde willingly wrapped -her arms around Mitzie's waist and elbows. Mitzie avoided noticing -it. Meanwhile, Billig was rapid firing, "I assumed she was disarmed, -Brimstine. Get those claws off her." Brimstine grabbed Mitzie's right -hand around the knuckles with one of his big paws and began to jerk off -the needle-fanged thimbles. Billig waved off Harris, who had let go -Phil to offer to minister to his boss's dripping cheek.</p> - -<p>Billig paced back toward Mitzie. "Darling," he said, and for once the -words came slow, "you're really wonderful, you're just the sort of -charming vixen the sadisto-hackers dream up to torture the hero. But -tonight I'm afraid you're going to have to reverse roles."</p> - -<p>Phil's mysterious inward tormentor who had made him go up against -Moe Brimstine at the Akeleys', now got to work again and despite the -weakness of his pain-threaded muscles, forced him to start a staggering -rush at Billig, meanwhile calling out, "Don't you touch her!"</p> - -<p>Naturally Jack tripped him, caught him by the collar almost before he'd -painfully smashed into the flooring, and slammed him back onto the -stool.</p> - -<p>At that moment, Hayes and four or five other men, the latter in the -company guard costume of the half-headless man, marched a banged up -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck into the far end of the room. Carstairs, -who now had blood as well as hair trailing down his forehead, looked -steadily at Mitzie.</p> - -<p>"Thank you for this, Mitz," he said rather quietly.</p> - -<p>Llewellyn and Buck each nodded his head.</p> - -<p>"You take it for granted I skunked on you?" Mitzie asked. None of the -three acted as if they'd heard the question.</p> - -<p>Phil, watching Billig, noted a very slight shiver, smile, and widening -of the eyes, although the boss man of Fun Incorporated wasn't looking -at anything in particular.</p> - -<p>"Take those boys down to the company garage," Billig called to Hayes, -keeping his slashed cheek turned away. "I'll phone you orders about -them in fifteen seconds." Then, as Hayes and the guards jumped to obey, -Billig said to Mitzie in a voice just loud enough to reach Carstairs, -"Thanks again, darling. That was a nice job."</p> - -<p>Carstairs had time to give her one last deadly look before he was -hurried out with the others.</p> - -<p>"Come on, everybody," Billig said gayly, "we're going to have a little -show. Darling, would you like to take my arm? I've quite forgotten -that love tap. If you promise to be a good girl, I'll tell Dora to -let go of you." Mitzie made no reply but Dora unwrapped her arms with -lazy reluctance. "Come on, darling," Billig entreated, starting for -the balcony. Mitzie didn't look at him, but she walked at his side. He -didn't try to touch her. They moved fast. Billig looked back over his -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Hurry up, everybody," he ordered exasperatedly. "Stop acting -slow-motion!"</p> - -<p>Brimstine, Dora and Harris quickly fell in behind them. Jack brought up -the rear with Phil.</p> - -<p>"I had to do that," Jack whispered in Phil's ear. "I couldn't fake it -and trust you to fake reactions well enough to fool Billig. But for -God's sake, don't spill anything more about Romadka. I know you're -Juno's lover. Well, Romadka made me bring him here. His friends are at -the house. They'll kill Mary and Sacheverell—Juno and Cookie, too—if -he gets caught."</p> - -<p>As Phil was trying to formulate some sort of answer to this, they -followed the others onto the balcony. Its railing was split by a -gateway, from which a metal stairway projected down and out into the -darkness, its first dozen treads glimmering faintly.</p> - -<p>Without warning Mitzie left Billig and darted down the stairs, taking -them three at a time. Harris lunged after her, but Billig stopped him -with a gesture. "She's doing what I want," he explained softly, "and -five times faster than if you dragged her. Won't you ever understand -it's speed I need?"</p> - -<p>Brimstine was closely watching Mitzie, who was now no more than a -glimmering moth flitting through a duller darkness. "She can't see the -steps any more," he said with professional admiration. "That girl's -good."</p> - -<p>Billig shrugged and stepped to a control panel in the railing. He -picked up a phone, then paused thoughtfully as if he were making sure -it was a full fifteen seconds since he had spoken to Hayes and not a -mere twelve or thirteen.</p> - -<p>"Hayes?" Billig said, and then whispered rapidly. He paused for a -moment, writhing his eyebrows, as though Hayes were being unbelievably -slow in catching on. "Of course, of course!"</p> - -<p>Then Billig touched a button and blinding light transformed the -darkness into a huge, empty, gray garage, its floor some thirty feet -below the balcony. There were all sorts of lines and signs indicating -which way cars should move and park, only there weren't any cars. There -were also a dozen open gateways in the gray walls, eight of them marked -"Exit." The silvery stairs down which Mitzie had flown touched the -center point of the garage's vast floor. A few paces away from that, -Mitzie stood tiny and stock-still, as if blinded by the light.</p> - -<p>Somewhere, far off, an electric motor was revving up.</p> - -<p>"Ladies and gentlemen," Billig said to Dora, Brimstine, Harris, and -Jack, but mostly to Phil, "this is the place where people park their -cars while they watch the wrestling bouts. But now the wrestling's -over and the cars are gone." He delicately touched his cheek, where the -four furrows had almost stopped bleeding. "So now we can have the place -for our little show. Mr. Gish, I must have the green cat. I believe you -value that girl's beauty and life—"</p> - -<p>But Phil, whose arms were gripped hard by Jack from behind, hardly -heard him he was watching Mitzie so intently. She seemed to come out -of her daze suddenly, at any rate she darted towards the nearest open -gateway. Dark, close bars shot down and blocked it, as they did all the -other gateways Phil could see. He looked at Billig and saw his dark -fingers lifting from buttons. He looked back at Mitzie and saw her -hesitate and then run back toward the silvery stairs. Billig touched -another button and the stairs retracted, telescoping upward. Mitzie -stood on the gray floor all alone.</p> - -<p>The revving of the unseen motor grew louder. Billig leaned over the -guard wall and looked thoughtfully at Mitzie, as if he were a cleverer -Caligula, a more practical Nero. Then he turned back, and took the -figurine of Mitzie out of his pocket, and spoke to Phil.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Gish," he said, "I seriously want to know where the green cat -is, or where your Dr. Romadka has taken it. Otherwise, how would you -like this to happen to her down there?" And he jerked off a leg of the -figurine. Phil could see the twin ragged cones of wax where the leg had -parted. "Or this?" Billig jerked off an arm. "Or this, or this?"</p> - -<p>At that moment an open topped black jeep came accelerating out from -under the balcony. Phil saw there were three people in it, though for a -moment he couldn't tell who. But Mitzie darted toward the car, calling -out excitedly, "Carstairs!" The car came on. "You're wonderful!" Mitzie -called. But then suddenly the car came forward faster and straight -toward her, and she had to dive out of the way to keep from being hit.</p> - -<p>The car started to swing around in a great loop. Mitzie picked herself -up from the harsh floor.</p> - -<p>"Or <i>this</i>!" Billig hissed at Phil, and he ripped the figurine apart at -the waist, while one thumb made a smashed flatness of the tiny breasts. -"Now please tell me where's this Dr. Romadka."</p> - -<p>"I don't know!" Phil yelled, struggling to get away from Jack, who -maddeningly whispered in his ear, "That's right, don't spill a word."</p> - -<p>"I'll remind you," Billig continued swiftly, taking something else from -under his coat, "that it's much worse for her—or for anyone—to be -hurt by people she idolizes than by people she hates. So tell me about -the green cat. Look here, this is an ortho. I can cut down that car any -moment you tell me."</p> - -<p>But Phil, like all the others, was watching Mitzie. Having picked -herself up, she didn't move. She simply stayed there, facing the -oncoming car. When it was so close that for an instant Phil saw -Mitzie's dark head against its chrome muzzle, it veered and missed her -by a breath. Mitzie stood motionless as a statue, though her short -skirt whipped out.</p> - -<p>Then she turned at the waist and watched the retreating jeep.</p> - -<p>"Chicken!" she jeered, loudly.</p> - -<p>For an instant everyone on the balcony was very still. Then there was -a dull banging, and Phil realized that Moe Brimstine was pounding the -railing, and saying, "I tell you, that girl's good."</p> - -<p>"Yes, she is," Billig buzzed at him curtly. Brimstine stopped his -applause, looking ashamed.</p> - -<p>"But," Billig continued smoothly, turning to Phil, "they're bound to -get her, sooner or later, unless...." And he wiggled the large black -gun he held in his small hand. "So you better talk."</p> - -<p>The jeep swung round under the balcony in a much tighter loop and -headed back, revving screamingly. Mitzie faced it, grinning, hands -as light on her hips as before. Then, just as—from Phil's point of -view—it had swallowed her up to the waist, she sprang to one side. -Phil felt her foot must have brushed the tire. The jeep slammed through -the air where she'd been.</p> - -<p>"<i>Dumb-bell!</i>" Mitzie screamed.</p> - -<p>Brimstine lifted his clenched fists above the railing, glanced at -Billig, and with an effort dropped them to his sides. Phil realized -his arms were numb, Jack was gripping them so tightly. Beyond Billig, -Harris and Dora leaned forward over the guard rail, as abstracted as -gamblers.</p> - -<p>But Billig himself, though presumably a gambler, was neither still nor -intent. "Look, Mr. Gish," he said rapidly, "I don't want to see this -girl smashed myself, and Brimstine here is figuring on starring her in -a knife throwing or dodge-the-car act. This is probably the last chance -you have to save her. Where's Romadka? Where's the cat?"</p> - -<p>Phil didn't even look at him.</p> - -<p>A phone-light began to blink on the control panel. Billig ignored it. -"<i>Where's the cat?</i>" he repeated.</p> - -<p>But all Phil could think, as the black jeep turned very tightly by the -far wall and as Mitzie pivoted to face it—all he could think was that -this had happened before, in ancient Crete, where girls as slim waisted -and dark haired as Mitzie had faced the black, charging bull and dodged -it or vaulted or somersaulted over its cruel horns, their breasts as -bare as Mitzie's, opposing the most tender thing in the world to the -most terrible.</p> - -<p>The phone-light continued to blink.</p> - -<p>The jeep finished its tight turn, Llewellyn and Buck leaning out to -balance it like a sailboat while Carstairs stuck steady as death -behind the wheel. Then it shrieked toward Mitzie. She waited until it -was almost as close as the time before, then sprang toward the left. -Quickly, almost as if it were tied to her thoughts, the jeep veered -toward the left, too. But Mitzie's feet, slamming down after that first -jump, didn't carry her farther, but reversed her direction, carrying -her back to the spot she'd first occupied.</p> - -<p>Again the jeep slammed past her.</p> - -<p>"<i>Double dumb-bell!</i>" Mitzie howled.</p> - -<p>The jeep, screaming into another tight turn, vanished under the -balcony. There was a grating crash, then a sick, rasping sound, as if -the jeep had sideswiped the wall but was still going.</p> - -<p>At the same moment a dark shouldered but pink topped figure walked -out rapidly from under the balcony. It was carrying a black bag. It -stopped, leaned over, set the black bag on the floor, and opened it.</p> - -<p>The black jeep came out from under the balcony, limpingly but gaining -speed.</p> - -<p>Something green and small stuck its head out of the black bag and -looked toward the jeep.</p> - -<p>The jeep didn't stop, but it slowed, and Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck -tumbled out and sprinted away from the green head as if from horror -itself.</p> - -<p>The jeep continued very slowly and haltingly toward Mitzie, like a -blinded, badly injured animal.</p> - -<p>The pink topped figure walked rapidly and mechanically back under the -balcony, as if it didn't understand the why of what it had been doing. -Belatedly, Phil realized it must be Dr. Romadka.</p> - -<p>The phone-light went on blinking.</p> - -<p>The green cat leaped out of the black bag and lightly settled itself -beside it.</p> - -<p>"Stun it!" Billig knifed at Brimstine and Harris.</p> - -<p>The green cat twisted its neck and looked up curiously.</p> - -<p>Brimstine and Harris looked at Billig and each took a step and peered -down over the railing and stopped stock-still. Behind them Dora was as -pale and quiet as a ghost.</p> - -<p>And then Phil felt it too—the same invisible golden wave of amiability -and understanding as had quieted the quarrelers at the Akeleys', but -now in a flood, a spring tide.</p> - -<p>"Stun that thing down there!" Billig demanded. The hidden wrinkles were -showing themselves twitchingly on his face and he was backing away from -the railing as if he couldn't bear the golden wave.</p> - -<p>Brimstine started to reach inside his coat, but instead picked up the -phone beside the blinking light. After a moment he said quite casually, -"The raid's begun, just as Greeley told us it would. The FBL are coming -in everywhere."</p> - -<p>"Stun it, I tell you! Get it somehow; it can save us," Billig ordered, -frantically fanning the air in front of his face as if to beat off the -golden wave.</p> - -<p>Harris just looked at him. Brimstine slowly and puzzledly shook his -head.</p> - -<p>Billig gave a shuddering gasp and clapped his free hand over his mouth -and nostrils, as if the golden wave were something breathed in with the -air, and fought his way to the railing. With his other hand he raised -the big gun until it was high above his shoulder.</p> - -<p>A needle of blue light jutted from either end of the big gun and made -smoking trenches in the opposite wall of the garage and the wall behind -them. Then Billig brought the gun steadily downward, lengthening the -forward and rearward trenches. The air smelled acid, as if laced with -ozone. The blue beam dimmed the bright lights and made everything -shadowy.</p> - -<p>The green cat still looked up at Billig curiously. Billig didn't look -straight back at it. The little muscles in his jaw and temple bulged -around the hand clamping shut his mouth and nose.</p> - -<p>The forward trench dug itself across the wall and floor, swung -drunkenly past Mitzie and the doddering jeep, got ten feet from the -green cat and hesitated. It swung this way and that, as if it had -encountered a magic circle it couldn't pierce—and stopped.</p> - -<p>Jack murmured, "Sash was right."</p> - -<p>Billig gave a great gasp and began to squeal.</p> - -<p>The blue beams winked out. The gun clanked on the floor. The squeal -changed to a clucking and Billig swayed. Jack jumped to catch him.</p> - -<p>Phil sprang forward and his fingers touched buttons he'd seen Billig -touch. The bars in the garage gateways shot up. Phil was on the -telescoped stairs almost before they began to move, and rode them to -the ground through layers of stinging ozone and golden harmony. The -jeep had trembled to a stop just short of Mitzie, who stared at it -groggily, her whole figure slack, as if a puff of wind could have -felled her.</p> - -<p>When the stairs touched the floor, momentum carried Phil forward a half -dozen steps but he kept his footing and circled back at a run. When -he plunged into the area between the green cat and the spot where the -jeep had been abandoned, he felt a shiver of sudden and extreme terror, -which even as he felt it, began to fade.</p> - -<p>But he hardly had time to ask himself whether that was what had -stampeded Carstairs and the rest, for the next instant he was calling, -"Lucky!" and Lucky was saying "Prrt!" and he was scooping up the -unresisting cat, his fingers trembling as they touched the green fur, -and darting back toward Mitzie and the jeep. Her groggy look had now -become a dazed smile of triumph and pride.</p> - -<p>He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her toward the jeep. "Get in!" -he shouted in her ear. "We're getting out of here. You're driving."</p> - -<p>A little life seemed to come back into her as her hands touched the -wheel. She kicked the starter as he scrambled in beside her, Lucky -gently clutched to his chest. "Which way?" she asked thickly.</p> - -<p>"Any exit gateway," he told her.</p> - -<p>With a rather wheezy hum, the jeep started toward the nearest gateway. -Phil felt a thinning of the golden peace around them, as if, he told -himself, Lucky were resting. The jeep, though gaining a little speed, -seemed to move as slowly as a school slideway. But looking back, he saw -that the group on the balcony was still standing as motionless as dress -display dummies with the power off—all except Billig, who was once -again moving about rapidly.</p> - -<p>"Get them," Phil could barely hear Billig's cracked voice implore, as -he darted from one to the other. "Kill them."</p> - -<p>The jeep nosed through the high doorway and started up a ramp.</p> - -<p>"Dora!" Phil heard Billig yell. "Grab my ortho and kill them."</p> - -<p>The effect of the golden wave must be wearing off, Phil thought, for -just as the top of the gateway was cutting off his view he saw the -violet blonde stoop rapidly behind the guard wall.</p> - -<p>The next second a blue beam flashed, and smoke and starry splatter -sprayed up just behind the jeep. The beam moved up and encountered the -top of the gateway. It notched that, came a little closer to them, and -then was stopped by the thickness of the wall. The ramp turned and Phil -saw a half dozen men in the Fun Incorporated company guard uniform. Two -of them had drawn their guns and the other four hadn't. They seemed to -be arguing hurriedly about something. They turned and saw the jeep. The -two with guns raised them and the others reached for theirs.</p> - -<p>Then Lucky sat up on Phil's lap straight as the statuette of Bast, and -Phil felt him let go of another of those great golden invisible waves. -Phil could tell the moment it hit the guards from the sudden change in -their tough faces. They watched the jeep with awe and incredulous grins -as it went past.</p> - -<p>Farther on they found themselves approaching an expanse of gray cold -light, against which a party of some twenty heavily armed men was -partly silhouetted, although they were advancing warily along the -walls. They were carrying guns, nets and sprays that could swiftly -immobilize men in plastic cocoons, and what looked like bird cages.</p> - -<p>They leveled their weapons, but once again and mightier than ever, so -mighty it made Phil shiver with understanding, the golden wave rolled -forward to engulf them. Once again the jeep glided past astonished, -troubled faces that smiled in spite of themselves. As the jeep rolled -out into the cool, shadowy dawn, Phil stroked Lucky's soft, springy fur -and murmured, "Little peace maker. You even gentled the FBL."</p> - -<p>Lucky looked up at him coquettishly and then yawned tremendously and -curled up on Phil's lap. The feeling of golden harmony subsided until -only a ghost of it lingered.</p> - -<p>"I know," Phil said, "you're tired from so much peace making." He -suddenly felt extremely tired himself, yet he went on to say, in -slurred syllables, "Lucky, I don't care whether you come from Egypt, -Russia, or the jungles of the Amazon—you're good for the USA."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XIII</h2> - - -<p>The jeep steadily turned corners, putting block after block of -the empty, early morning, upper-level streets between it and Fun -Incorporated. Phil wondered whether it could be traced by the electric -eyes that were said to be at each intersection, but he forgot the -question before it became a worry. Lucky was a plump green doughnut -on his lap. He felt over-poweringly sleepy and wished he could gently -slide into some universe lacking light, sound and gravity.</p> - -<p>But before drifting off he glanced at Mitzie. Her face was set in -hard, proud, sneering lines, although two tears were jiggling down her -cheeks. Phil felt more annoyed than surprised or compassionate. No -one, he told himself, had the right to indulge such a mood in Lucky's -presence.</p> - -<p>He decided that Mitzie needed to have certain truths rubbed in gently. -"Our escape is nothing to puff ourselves up over," he said softly. -"Lucky did it all. Though I admired your bravery dodging the jeep."</p> - -<p>Mitzie didn't look at him, but she thinned her lips.</p> - -<p>"The episode of the jeep was instructive," Phil went on, beginning to -twist the angelic knife just a little. "It showed you exactly what sort -of glorious criminal fellowship you had with those three hep-thugs. But -now," he went on, tempering justice with mercy, "you've discovered that -your romantic worship of evil isn't worth a fingersnap in the face of -true love and understanding. Eh, Mitzie?"</p> - -<p>Mitzie let the car jog listlessly to a stop. Phil was dimly aware -that they were parking in a bumpy, blind end driveway in a neglected, -shrubby square with tall buildings set around. He leaned back, smiling -drowsily, his fingers playing with Lucky's springy fur. He was waiting -complacently for Mitzie's sobs.</p> - -<p>Instead, the seat jounced and the door of the jeep slammed.</p> - -<p>He looked around. Mitzie was standing outside the jeep against a -shadowy background of tangled shrubbery and misty, silent skyscrapers.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she leaned forward toward him, bracing herself against the -door with stiff arms. She inhaled gustily and her small, tender breasts -lifted in their black satin half cups.</p> - -<p>Now, he told himself, it must happen. She must yield, sobbing, to -Lucky's power.</p> - -<p>"I hate you, Phil," she said intensely. "You want to see me turn to -jelly." New tears spurted from the inside corners of her eyes, but her -expression grew fiercer. "Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck may have tried -to kill me, but at least they gave me a chance to be something. They -allowed me the dignity of being hated. They didn't try to drown me in -slop.</p> - -<p>"I want glory," she went on in a voice that certainly should have -sounded choked except she simply wouldn't permit it. "I want my kind of -glory, no matter how cheap and selfish you think it is, because it's -the only thing that's shining and brave in a shoddy, cowardly world. -I want to spit in the world's eye and then face it, when it comes -bleating for revenge, like I faced this jeep."</p> - -<p>"I did think you were courageous there," Phil temporized, wondering why -the devil Lucky's power, that had softened twenty men at a crack, was -so slow in taking effect on a single misguided girl.</p> - -<p>"Spare me any praise that's a cover for slop," Mitzie said scathingly. -"Oh I know what that Sunday school beast there on your lap can do, -and I know what you want to see happen. I have only one thing that's -titanium in me, all the rest is stinking mush. You want to see that one -thing break. No, worse, you want to see it soften. Well, I'm not going -to let that happen." She stood up and took her hands off the door.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Phil felt a kind of sleepy worry. He ran his hand over Lucky's -fur, then shook him hesitatingly. "Wake up," he said uneasily.</p> - -<p>Lucky merely purred. Or perhaps it was a small snore.</p> - -<p>"Goodbye for good, Phil," Mitzie said, turning away.</p> - -<p>"No, wait," Phil called suddenly, at last hunching groggily forward in -his seat. "Don't go yet." He shook Lucky again, almost roughly. "Wake -up," he demanded. "Stop her."</p> - -<p>The small god hung in his hands like a limp green rag.</p> - -<p>Phil put Lucky down on the seat beside him and started to get out of -the car. But abruptly a wave of deep melancholy washed over him. He -knew that something precious was slipping away from him, but he wasn't -sure it was genuinely precious and he didn't know whether he had the -right to stop it. Besides his god had failed him and he was still -incredibly sleepy.</p> - -<p>So he watched Mitzie slipping away from him as irrevocably as time, and -did nothing except lift Lucky back on his lap. He watched her stride -off along the misty shrubs like a proud and angry nymph, holding her -back straight and her head very high, and also, he supposed, those -charming and ridiculous breasts with which she insisted on facing the -whole world.</p> - -<p>For what seemed a long time he watched the dim, empty corner around -which she had turned. He was frozen in a hypnotic daze that temporarily -served for sleep. Now and then thoughts crossed his mind's dull -expanse, but they were shadowy things and did not linger. Once it -occurred to him that Lucky might have been unable to hold Mitzie -because his earlier exertions had drained his powers; small gods -couldn't be expected to exude several great golden waves without -suffering some slight after effects.</p> - -<p>It occurred to him that at this very moment he must be the object of -furious searches by the Federal Bureau of Loyalty, Fun Incorporated's -natty thugs, Romadka and his jolly friends, perhaps even good old -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck. Yet he felt neither fear nor any -inclination to form a plan. The dim corner he was watching grew -brighter but stayed empty.</p> - -<p>Four feet defined themselves in the doughnut-shaped pressure on his -lap. Lucky stretched, shook himself, looked up at Phil with the -brightest sort of eyes, and said, "Prrrt-prt."</p> - -<p>"You're a fine sort of cat," Phil complained grumpily, his own eyes -feeling anything but bright. "Going to sleep just when I needed you -most."</p> - -<p>Lucky disregarded these criticisms. "Prrrrt-prt," he repeated -peremptorily.</p> - -<p>But now that his hypnotic daze was broken, Phil once again felt -over-poweringly sleepy. "I know that mew," he mumbled muzzily at the -green blur beyond the shimmering fence of his eyelashes. "You're -hungry. Well, I s'pose you deserve a feed after all the wonders you -did. But I haven't got any cranberry sauce right now. I'll get you -something to eat ... later ... on."</p> - -<p>"Prrrt-prt!" Lucky demanded in the outraged tones of an honest workman -who finds himself cheated of his pay.</p> - -<p>But Phil was beyond reach of any appeal. "G'night," he told Lucky in -the kindliest possible way and dropped off.</p> - -<p>He dreamed of things far off and strange and ominous, though misty. -He dreamed of dark fronded forests and small animals screeching. The -screeches grew louder and he fled out of his dream altogether into the -jeep parked in the blind end driveway in the little square.</p> - -<p>For a moment he seemed to see the ghosts of the dark fronded trees and -hear the echo of the dream screeches, but then he realized that the -former were the square's unpruned shrubs, while the latter were the -squeals and cries of schoolgirls scattering out of a building beyond.</p> - -<p>He realized groggily that they must be coming from school—no, from -afternoon school, since the sunlight wasn't slanting at all deeply into -the square, and that he must have slept here undisturbed all day.</p> - -<p>And then, he became aware that his lap and heart were cold and that -Lucky was gone.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XIV</h2> - - -<p>Phil's first impulse was to jump out of the jeep and hunt around. But -the chill in his heart told him Lucky was farther away than that. -Besides, the place was a regular jungle and one man could hunt through -it forever for anything cat-size.</p> - -<p>He did not recognize the square at all, but he guessed from the -schoolgirls that he was in an intellectual residential neighborhood. -At first he thought the school was one for girls, but then he noticed -a few lone boys among the homeward-bound students and decided that -most of the families in this area must be deliberately having as -many girls as possible. When sex-determination had become possible -through centrifuging human sperm to separate the male-producing and -female-producing types, most parents decided to have sons, especially -for their firstborn. They often told themselves they would have -daughters later, but unfortunately small families were the rule. -The resulting over-production of males had led to some ineffectual -state laws forbidding sex-determination, an unsuccessful attempt at -self-regulation by the medical profession, a lot of talk in Congress, -and an almost fanatically determined movement among a class of -thoughtful people to produce only daughters. This last class, besides -seeking to balance the sex ratio, perhaps had in mind the fact or rumor -that human parthenogenesis had been achieved. Phil remembered a Sunday -afternoon video shock talk: <i>Will Women Born of Virgins Become Our Only -Intellectuals?</i></p> - -<p>Other aspects of the neighborhood around the square fitted with his -guess. There was an appearance of shabbiness, the skyscrapers were low, -advertisements lifeless, traffic was light, there were no hot rods.</p> - -<p>He let his gaze roam over the tiers of tiny flats, wondering where -Lucky might have gone. As he did so, he turned on the jeep's radio.</p> - -<p>"... while Mystery Man Billig, mastermind of Fun Incorporated, is -believed to have fled the country. Tonight at 8:30 New Washington -Time, President Barnes will address all us American folks, partly -to silence the small, syndicate-inspired clamor at the outlawing of -male-female wrestling and jukebox burlesque, but more to explain to -an amazed citizenry the full reasons behind the charges brought this -morning by the federal government against sixty-nine high officials. -I predict—and remember this is just my personal libel-free guess, -fellow-folks—that the president will reveal that Fun Incorporated has -been peddling dream pills, temporary sterility tabs, and I'm as shocked -and disgusted as you are, folks, female robots equipped for obscene -functioning.</p> - -<p>"Now here's an important flash on the cat story. The cats are not -carrying an infection and are under no circumstances to be destroyed, -whether owned, strayed, or alley. In fact, there's a stiff jail -sentence waiting for any person destroying a cat. But all owned cats -are to be brought to the nearest security station, while any person -sighting a strayed or alley cat is directed to do the same. There's a -stiff penalty for not doing the first, a one hundred dollar reward for -doing the second. Get busy, kids! Why this sudden federal interest in -cats? The National Health Service zips its lips. But your newscaster -backs this highly responsible rumor: it has been discovered that a rare -strain of cat carries a cancer destroying virus. Wouldn't it be nice, -folkses, to know that, once full grown, you would never start to grow -again, in any part or place?</p> - -<p>"But remember this, dear audiers, and I'll say it to you in Martian: -Zip-zap-zup! Meaning: Bring in the cats!</p> - -<p>"Now as for this report, folks, that handie-supernova Zelda Zornia, -vacationing in Brazil, did a south-of-the-equator handiecast -advertising bathing jewelry; let me assure you clean living people...."</p> - -<p>Phil cleared his mind, trying to put himself in Lucky's place, to -feel the direction in which the cat had wandered off. His head swung -doubtfully this way and that, like a compass needle or planchette, but -finally came to rest. He climbed out of the jeep and walked straight -ahead, not turning aside for the dusty, crackling shrubs, but pushing -straight through them.</p> - -<p>He parted a final straggly hedge and found himself looking across the -empty street at a house quite as old as the Akeleys, but with free sky -above it.</p> - -<p>Built of ancient brick, it was three stories tall and looked as -pompously respectable as a 19th century banker. It reposed sedately -on a terrace that was as weedily overgrown as the square and that was -surrounded by a high iron fence.</p> - -<p>The only incongruous note was struck by a saucer-shaped object fully -fifty feet across set on a framework atop the flat roof. Judging from -the dull green of its underside, it might be made of copper. It looked -almost as old as the house and quite as proper, as if the 19th century -banker had decided to wear a green beret and dared anyone to notice it.</p> - -<p>Phil crossed the street, mounted some steps and peered through the -iron gate. He made out, beside the house's old-fashioned, knob door, a -tarnished bronze plate which read: "Humberford Foundation."</p> - -<p>He looked back uneasily. Where he figured the jeep to be, he could see -the heads and black-clad shoulders of two men. The black reminded him -unpleasantly of the sports togs worn by Billig and his yes men. They -seemed to be arguing. One of them took a step up, as if he were getting -into the jeep, but the other pulled him back and they hurried off—not -in his direction, Phil noted with some relief.</p> - -<p>He gave the iron gate a little push. It opened with a rusty "Harrumph" -that made Phil shrink apologetically. But nothing else happened so -after a minute he slipped through and began to peer around at the -undergrowth and then to wander through it, softly calling "Lucky!"</p> - -<p>Occasionally he looked back in the direction of the jeep and once he -saw the radio-helmeted heads and blue shoulders of three policemen. -He wondered if the next time he looked he'd see Dr. Romadka, or the -Akeleys, or perhaps Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck, and he shivered to -think of how close he'd come to being caught—by someone.</p> - -<p>But the next shock he got came from something nearer. He had rounded -the house, after having poked through its equally lifeless and -overgrown back yard, when he saw a dark haired man peering at him -through the fence.</p> - -<p>The most disturbing thing about the man was that he closely resembled -the girl Phil had watched undress in the room across from his. The girl -with hoofs. This man had the same vital, faun-like expression.</p> - -<p>Phil froze. But the man merely yawned, turned away, and shuffled off, -humming or hooting a little melody that gave Phil goosepimples because -it reminded him of something in his dream.</p> - -<p>For that matter, the whole experience was becoming very dreamlike to -Phil: the silent house, the neglected garden, the futile searching, -the melancholy memory of Mitzie's leave-taking, the powerful sense of -a dead past. But the feeling that Lucky was near was still strong and -after a bit Phil realized he would have to do something he had been -shrinking from.</p> - -<p>He reluctantly mounted the steps to the front portal, reached for the -knob, and then, to put off the evil moment a little longer, called -"Lucky!" a few times along the shallow porch to either side.</p> - -<p>Someone behind him inquired pleasantly, "Are you looking for a cat?"</p> - -<p>Phil spun around guiltily and found himself facing a very old man as -tall and frail as a ghost, and apparently as silent as one, since Phil -hadn't heard him coming up the walk. His thin, wrinkle-netted face, -crowned by close cropped white hair, was hauntingly familiar. It had -something of the grandeur of a pre-Christian ascetic, yet there was -a note of Puckish humor in it, as if its owner had arrived at a wise -second childhood. Although Phil's heart was pounding at the alarmingly -accurate question, he found himself liking the man at first sight.</p> - -<p>As he hesitated, the old man went on, "My interest, by the way, is -purely academic—or else childish curiosity, which comes to the same -thing." His eyes flashed impishly. "Is it by any chance a green cat?" -he asked Phil rapidly. "No, you don't have to answer that question, at -least not any more than you have already. I don't want to distress you. -It's just that I have a mind that automatically makes the far-fetched -deductions first."</p> - -<p>He beamed at Phil, who, though flustered, found himself grinning.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you're a journalist," the oldster went on smoothly, "or at -least we can pretend you are. Dr. Garnett always calls in the press -when the Humberford Foundation makes a discovery, though I'm sorry -to say the press stopped coming about twenty years ago. They'd quit -thinking of para-psychology as newsworthy. But perhaps there's been -time to breed a new race of journalists with a revived interest in -esping and all the teles. In any case Garnett and the whole staff will -be overjoyed at the presence of a pressman."</p> - -<p>"You mean the Humberford Foundation investigates extrasensory -perception and things like that?" Phil asked.</p> - -<p>"You should know, since you've been sent here to get a story," the old -man said reprovingly. "Still, reporters often haven't the foggiest idea -what they've been sent out to report, so you're excused."</p> - -<p>Phil found himself grinning again. He hadn't any notion of how the old -man knew about Lucky or where he stood in the general picture, except -that he felt strangely certain that the old man didn't have anything -to do with the organizations out to get Lucky. And the oldster's -mischievous pretense that Phil was a reporter might at least get him -past the imposing door and let him spy around.</p> - -<p>"So the Humberford Foundation has made a new discovery in -para-psychology?" he said conversationally.</p> - -<p>The other nodded. "Dr. Garnett was most excited. So much so that he -didn't have time to tell me what it was all about, except that they'd -started to get some amazing results—and just this morning. So I -hurried over. Good esp is apt to go poof, so it's best to get it when -it's hot. I have a standing order with Garnett to call me over the -moment anything starts to flash. For that matter, I have the same -orders with practically every scientific laboratory in the area—though -the others don't always call me. But—thank Thoth!—Garnett isn't in -a field that's under the benign aegis of security and he isn't at all -security minded himself. In fact, I'm not certain he's ever heard of -the FBL. So you may get a real scoop, Mr...?"</p> - -<p>"Gish. Phil Gish."</p> - -<p>The oldster's thin hand pressed his with a feathery touch. "Morton -Opperly."</p> - -<p>Phil stared at him for several seconds, then gasped, "The—?"</p> - -<p>The other assented with an apologetic shrug. Phil let it sink in. This -was Morton Opperly who had worked on the Manhattan Project, whose name -had appeared beside Einstein's on the Physicists' Covenant, who had -tried unsuccessfully to get himself jailed for refusal to do research -during World War III, who had become a legend. Phil had always vaguely -assumed he'd died years ago.</p> - -<p>He gazed at the renowned physicist in happy awe. The question that rose -effortlessly to his lips was a testimony to Opperly's ability to create -an atmosphere of unlimited free discussion unknown since 1940.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Opperly, what are orthos?"</p> - -<p>"Orthos? That could be short for any number of scientific terms, Phil, -but I bet you mean the ones that shoot. Those are ortho-fissionables. -Trouble with ordinary fissionables—or fissionables under ordinary -circumstances—is that the fragments and neutrons shoot off in -all directions and the critical mass is large. But if you get the -fissionable atoms all lined up with their axis of spin pointing in the -same direction, then they all split in the same place and every neutron -hits the nucleus of the atom next to it. Because of that last fact, -the neutrons are all used up and the critical mass becomes minute. Half -the fragments fly in one direction, half in the other, making it a very -nasty and convenient weapon, except it has to backfire."</p> - -<p>"How do you get the atoms lined up?" Phil asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Temperature near absolute zero and an electric field," Opperly said, -touching a button beside the doorway. "Simplest thing in the world. -The new insulators can hold a gun magazine at one degree Kelvin for -weeks, and carry enough fissionable pellets to give rapid fire, with -the effect of a steady beam, for more than a minute. Planning to make -yourself an ortho in your home workshop, Phil? I'm afraid they don't -sell that kit. Everything I've been telling you is top security, death -penalty and all that. But I'm getting so senile I don't understand -security regulations. I'm apt to babble anything. I keep telling Bobbie -T. he'll have to have me orthocuted some day, but like everyone else he -refuses to take me seriously. That's the trick they used on me in WW3 -and they've never forgot it."</p> - -<p>"Bobbie T.?"</p> - -<p>Opperly made another of his apologetic grimaces. "Barnes. President -Robert T. Barnes. We were charter members of the Midwest Starship -Society. Of course he was just a shaver then and now he's a besotted, -scripture quoting fox, but shared dreams have a way of linking people -permanently. I drop in on him now and then and flash my Starship badge. -He's one of my pipelines to what's happening in the world, though the -security services don't tell him too much. That's how I learned about -the green cat."</p> - -<p>Phil was nerving himself to ask Opperly just what he'd learned, when he -heard footsteps behind him.</p> - -<p>The man who looked like a brother of the girl with hoofs was standing -in the gateway.</p> - -<p>Just then the door of the mansion opened, revealing a scholarly -appearing man whose face was twitching with excitement and nervousness. -His coat had two bulging brief case pockets, while his vest was crammed -with enough microbooks to make up a dozen encyclopedias, plus two -micronotebooks with stylus, and a fountain pen besides. His hair was -graying and thin, and he wore ancient pince-nez that twitched with his -nose.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Opperly!" He greeted in a high-pitched voice that expressed both -fluster and delight. "You come at a whirling moment!"</p> - -<p>"That's the way I like them, Hugo," Opperly told him. "Where's Garnett?"</p> - -<p>But the other was looking at Phil, who decided the twitch was -permanent. At the moment its owner was using it to express inquiry and -mild apprehension.</p> - -<p>"Oh," Opperly said casually, "this is Phil Gish of the press." His -eyes twinkled. "Of the U. S. Newsmoon, in fact. Phil, this is Hugo -Frobisher, Ph.Ch.—Chancellor of Philosophy, you know, the new higher -degree. I'm just a lowly Ph.D. myself."</p> - -<p>But Frobisher was beaming at Phil as if he were a donor with a $100,000 -check. "This is most gratifying, Mr. Gish," he breathed. Then he -whipped out a micronotebook and poised on its white field the stylus -whose movements would be reproduced on one ten thousandth of the space -on the tape inside. "The U. S. Newsmoon, you say?"</p> - -<p>At that moment the man at the gate came clumping up behind them. Phil -felt a gust of uneasiness, but the newcomer merely treated them all -to a big, innocent grin that brought out all the handsomeness of his -faun-like face.</p> - -<p>"Me press, too," he announced happily. "Introducing to each you Dion da -Silva. Much delight."</p> - -<p>Frobisher seemed about to melt with gratification, though da Silva's -gaiety was undoubtedly generally contagious. "What paper?" Frobisher -asked.</p> - -<p>Phil noted that Opperly was studying the newcomer intently. The latter -was having trouble with Frobisher's question.</p> - -<p>"Mean what?" he countered, drawing his shaggy eyebrows together in a -frown.</p> - -<p>"<i>La Prensa</i>," Opperly supplied suddenly. "Mr. da Silva represents <i>La -Prensa</i>."</p> - -<p>"Is so. Thank you," da Silva confirmed.</p> - -<p>Phil could have sworn that Opperly had never seen da Silva before and -that da Silva had never heard of <i>La Prensa</i>.</p> - -<p>However, Frobisher seemed to accept the explanation. "Come in, come -in, gentlemen," he urged, fluttering backward. "I'm sure you'll first -want to tour our little establishment and have a peek at all our -projects. Story background, you know."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure they'll want to go straight to Garnett and get the story -itself," Opperly assured him. "Where is Winston anyway, Hugo?"</p> - -<p>"To tell the truth, I haven't the faintest idea of Dr. Garnett's -whereabouts," Frobisher replied with prim satisfaction. "Things have -been popping everywhere since this morning. In every project. We'd have -to tour the Foundation to find him in any case."</p> - -<p>Opperly flashed Phil a look of humorous resignation. Dion da Silva -pressed past Phil, flashing his wide white teeth at everyone and -saying, "Is fine, fine." Phil's spirits rose. He felt certain that he -was getting nearer to Lucky.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XV</h2> - - -<p>Inside, the Humberford Foundation was a gloomy Edwardian mansion to -which had been sketchily grafted a pleasantly disorganized scientific -enterprise. Glassed shelves of leatherbound books that hadn't been -opened for decades were elbowed by trim microfilm files. Blackened -portraits of John Junius Humberford and his ancestors looked down on -machines for shuffling the eternal Rhine cards and on fluorescent -screens-in-depth that blended a dozen recordings of a brain wave made -from different angles into the shadowy semblance of a human thought. -Stately drawing rooms that set one thinking of bustles and teacups -instead held solemn faced, scantily clad girls with electrodes attached -to twenty parts of their bodies. Laboratory technicians in loose smocks -caught their heels in stair carpets a hundred years old.</p> - -<p>But today there was an excitement that pushed the Edwardian half of -the place far into the background and brightened the very grime on -the walls. Chancellor Frobisher and his little train of visitors were -not even noticed. Girls triumphantly calling Rhine cards stared past -them unseeingly. Clairvoyants sketching objects being imagined by -someone else three floors away didn't look up from their blackboards. -A technician darted out with a large syringe and took air samples -under their very noses without seeming to be aware of their presence. -Correlating engines hummed and spat cards.</p> - -<p>Phil was so busy peering about for his green cat that he heard little -of what Frobisher was telling them.</p> - -<p>Occasional high-pitched explanatory phrases floated back to Phil: "... -her 117,318th run through the cards ... telepathic communion with -lower animals ... perhaps some day share the thoughts of an amoeba.... -No, I really don't know where Dr. Garnett is, I'm busy with important -visitors, Miss Ames ... telekinesis will make handies obsolete...."</p> - -<p>Plodding behind da Silva up the stairs to the top floor, Phil started -to listen to Frobisher consecutively. The Chancellor of Philosophy -was saying, "Now in the room I'm about to show you, an experiment in -<i>complete</i> telepathy is underway. When telepathy is perfected, it will -be possible for two individuals to lay their minds side by side and -compare all their thoughts and feelings in the raw, as it were."</p> - -<p>"Is good!" da Silva interjected.</p> - -<p>Frobisher frowned at the interruption before remembering it was a -journalist talking. He went on smilingly, "In this case, however, we -have only a preliminary stage: two individuals, by means of prolonged -speech, writing, sketching, musical expression and so forth, are -attempting to share their inmost thoughts to such an extent that they -will tend to become telepathic, as seems to be the case with some -husbands and wives." As they came to the top of the stairs, Frobisher -continued a bit breathlessly, "Incidentally, the young man in this -experiment is one of our most consistent espers, while the young lady -is a handie bit player who graciously devotes her leisure time to -science."</p> - -<p>He paused with his hand on an ancient brass doorknob.</p> - -<p>"Let's not disturb them, Hugo," Opperly suggested a bit faintly, -leaning against the wall though he showed no other effects of the -climb. "Sounds like rather an intimate experiment."</p> - -<p>Frobisher shook his head. "As I say," he pronounced, "these two -researchists are seeking to lay their minds side by side."</p> - -<p>He opened the door, looked in, gasped, and hastily slammed it—though -not before da Silva, peering over his shoulder, had emitted an -appreciative and rather whinnying chortle.</p> - -<p>"As I say, their <i>minds</i>," Frobisher repeated, walking away from the -door a bit unevenly. "Perhaps you're right, Dr. Opperly, we'd best -not disturb them. Research is at times a strenuous affair." He looked -apprehensively at the purported representative of <i>La Prensa</i>. "I -trust, Señor da Silva—"</p> - -<p>"Is very good!" da Silva assured him enthusiastically.</p> - -<p>Frobisher looked at him blankly, shook himself a bit and said, briskly, -"It now remains, gentlemen, to give you a glimpse of our crowning -project—the one on the roof. If you'll just precede me up this -circular staircase...."</p> - -<p>"I think I'll stay here, Hugo," Opperly told him. "Touring research can -be strenuous too."</p> - -<p>"But I rather imagine Dr. Garnett must be on the roof."</p> - -<p>"Then bring him down."</p> - -<p>As Phil trudged up the musty cylinder lit by tiny bull's-eye windows, -his feet clanking on worn metal treads, it occurred to him that Lucky -certainly seemed to have been having a field day here, bringing people -together in understanding and love and what not. In fact, it made him -rather jealous the way Lucky was strewing his favors around.</p> - -<p>From behind Chancellor Frobisher's fussy voice filtered up. "I should -preface this ascent by saying that one of J. J. Humberford's chief -motives in establishing the Foundation was the conviction that mankind -will soon destroy itself unless some superior power intervenes. So we -feel bound to apply what little knowledge of esping we have gained -to seeking such intervention. Even if there is only one chance in a -million of contacting a superior power somewhere in the universe, the -stakes are so great that we must not overlook the chance. Incidentally, -gentlemen, please watch out for the next to the last step. There isn't -any."</p> - -<p>Phil, who was just putting his foot on it, caught himself, took a -bigger step, and the next moment was out on the roof. The sodium mirror -that orbited around earth was pouring sunlight down, though hardly -enough to explain the dark glasses Frobisher handed him and da Silva.</p> - -<p>Phil briefly studied the verdigris underside of the saucer topping -most of the roof. He noted the flimsy looking beams supporting it -and frowningly inspected the tiny penthouse under its center. Then -Frobisher was urging him and da Silva up a ladder that led to a small -platform next to the rim of the saucer.</p> - -<p>Reaching the platform, Phil instantly realized the need for the dark -glasses. The interior of the saucer was polished to such a degree that -even the sodium-reflected sunlight flashed from it with a pale brown -blindingness. He clamped his eyes shut and quickly put on the black -specs.</p> - -<p>"As you are aware," Frobisher was saying, "the exact nature of thought -waves is unknown. It may be that they move instantaneously, or at least -at speeds far greater than that of light. We have yet to get a figure -on them, although we have carefully timed thought-casts between here -and Montevideo—but the human or physiological factor confounds us. -They may not be waves at all. On the other hand it is possible that -they are reflected and refracted like ordinary light."</p> - -<p>"Is right," interjected da Silva, a vague blur beside Phil, who hadn't -yet got over the first blinding glimpse of the saucer's interior.</p> - -<p>"You believe so?" Frobisher questioned sharply.</p> - -<p><i>La Prensa</i>'s faun-like representative shrugged his muscular shoulders. -"Just guessing," he said.</p> - -<p>"At any rate," Frobisher continued, "we are working on that latter -supposition here. This copper structure is a parabolic mirror. Thought -waves originating at its focus are concentrated into a beam which is -directed upward into the sky toward any stellar planetary systems which -may happen to lie above."</p> - -<p>"Amazing," da Silva grunted. "Explains everything."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" Frobisher asked sharply.</p> - -<p>"Just humble before wonders of science," da Silva told him.</p> - -<p>Frobisher nodded. "You're right," he said. "Who knows but what -the message now being beamed, with its appeal for help from a -war-threatened and deluded humanity, may some day or century be -received by a truly mature and benign race, which will swiftly come to -our aid? By the by, Mr. Gish, watch that railing. It's broken."</p> - -<p>Phil jerked his hand away from the rusted pipe. "Yes," he said to -Frobisher, "but how do these thought waves originate at the focus?"</p> - -<p>"Just look," Frobisher told him. Phil squintingly studied the gleaming -saucer through his dark glasses and it became less of a jumble of -highlights. Projecting from a hole in the center of the bowl was a -brownish-red blob wearing goggles that looked as if they were made of a -darker glass than his own specs. The blob's lips moved and Phil heard a -hauntingly familiar voice saying, of all things, "S-O-S, earth. S-O-S, -earth."</p> - -<p>"Our star esper," Frobisher chortled, "if you'll pardon a pun of which -we're rather fond. To be sure, it's thought waves, not sound waves, -he's originating, but it helps him esp if he says the message at the -same time he thinks of it. He's a bit of an eccentric—a religious -scholar—but that's the case with most of our best people."</p> - -<p>At that moment Phil's vision, buffered by the dark glasses, became -quite clear and he saw that the sweating head at the focus of the -parabolic mirror was that of Sacheverell Akeley. At the same moment -Sacheverell saw Phil and his sun-burned top disappeared from the saucer -as swiftly as a hand puppet jerked below stage.</p> - -<p>"He shouldn't do that," Frobisher said sharply. "There's at least -twenty minutes of his duty remaining. Well, I presume you've seen all -you'll need for your articles, gentlemen, so we'd best go down."</p> - -<p>As Phil's foot touched the roof, Sacheverell Akeley darted up to him, -sweat pouring off his ruddy-bronze forehead.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing here?" Phil asked sharply. "How did you get away -from them—Romadka's friends, I mean."</p> - -<p>"They raced off a couple of hours after Romadka left," Sacheverell -answered quickly. "Got a phone call. Incidentally, Romadka abducted -three of our cats. As for me, I've worked here for ages. The important -point is," he continued in an intense whisper, "that <i>he's</i> here, -isn't he? I mean the Green One. I've never esped like this before, even -at stars."</p> - -<p>But before Phil could answer, Frobisher and da Silva glanced at them -inquisitively. Phil and Sacheverell followed them down the metal -staircase.</p> - -<p>Reaching the top floor they found Opperly deep in conversation with a -man who looked at least half out of this world. He was fat and had a -beard, but his dull eyes seemed to be seeing twice as much as he was -looking at. Sacheverell tugged at Phil's sleeve guardedly. "Garnett's -frightfully espy," he whispered, his lips next to Phil's ear.</p> - -<p>"But Winnie, how do you explain it?" Opperly was saying. "Why all this -success with esping, in practically all your projects, all of a sudden?"</p> - -<p>Garnett frowned. "Well, there is one unusual circumstance. Our lab -technicians claim to have found hormones, or some sort of specialized -protein molecules floating around in the air."</p> - -<p>"What hormones?" Opperly asked quickly.</p> - -<p>"Well," Garnett said, "they have had some difficulty identifying -them." He hesitated. "The hormones seem to show a tremendous -variability—almost chameleon-like."</p> - -<p>Opperly smiled and threw Phil a twinkling gaze.</p> - -<p>"Winnie, do you by any chance know," Opperly said, "whether an odd -animal of some sort appeared at the Foundation early this morning?"</p> - -<p>Phil felt Sacheverell's hand tighten on his biceps.</p> - -<p>Dr. Garnett looked around puzzledly. Then his eyebrows shot up. "Yes," -he said, "Ginny Ames found a green cat, a fashion mutant, I suppose, -wailing at the door early this morning. We don't have much food here, -but she tried it on some elderberry preserves and apparently it liked -it. I believe the creature's still around."</p> - -<p>"Winnie, don't you get any bulletins from Security?" Opperly asked -incredulously. "Or from the FBL?"</p> - -<p>Garnett shook his big head. "Not for the past ten years. Esp's so -unpopular that even the government's forgot us."</p> - -<p>"I see," Opperly said, his eyes glittering with interest. "In that -case you haven't read anything about a mutant creature described as a -green cat, that's believed to have super-human parapsychological powers -and to have caused officials to go over to Russia and do all sorts -of other things described as crazy? The public hasn't been told, but -all the higher echelons—scientists, doctors, psychiatrists—have been -getting bulletins on the subject, demanding that they report anything -they know or have heard about a green cat. Even I've been told a -little."</p> - -<p>"Can you beat it," Garnett said disgustedly, "something involving esp -and they consult everyone but us." Then he turned to Opperly like a man -waking up. "Do you mean to suggest that this creature is responsible -for the esp results we've been getting?"</p> - -<p>Opperly nodded. "I do."</p> - -<p>"But how, why?"</p> - -<p>Opperly shrugged happily. "I don't know. I've merely been making some -of those far-fetched guesses I've warned my young journalist friends -about." And he smiled at Phil and da Silva.</p> - -<p>"Guesses!" Garnett said. "Well, we'll soon find out." And he started -past them toward the front end of the hall, his big feet stirring -dust from the ancient carpet. "We'll have a look at this animal and -see what we think about it. Miss Ames—!" he started to call, and -then suddenly his face went half out of this world again and he -stopped in mid-stride. "She thinks the same," he said so softly and so -astonishedly that even Phil knew he must be esping. "She agrees with -you, Op." The big face seemed to go a little further out of the world. -"In fact, they all do. Practically everybody at the Foundation." The -big face seemed to go out almost all the way, while the voice sank to a -faint murmur. "In fact, you're right."</p> - -<p>The door opened at the front end of the hall and a long nosed young -lady in a lab smock stepped out and nodded gently at Garnett. Her brow -smoothed and her eyes half closed, as if she were esping something to -him, then she seemed to notice that there were visitors around. "Would -you care to see this green animal with your outer eyes?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"We sure would, Ginny," Garnett told her and started forward again. -Phil wanted to burst out with all his information about Lucky, but da -Silva forestalled him.</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen," he said. "Think you understand better I supposed. Sorry -underrate you. Best to tell you now—"</p> - -<p>At that moment Lucky ambled out of the door from which Ginny had -emerged. He strode lazily, like a self-confident green god. The long -nosed girl closed the door behind him. Phil felt his spirits splurge -suddenly, happily, familiarly.</p> - -<p>Akeley squeezed Phil's upper arm. "It is <i>he</i>!"</p> - -<p>And almost at the same moment, a voice commanded from behind them, -"Break to either side, everybody."</p> - -<p>Phil obeyed the command and so did all the others.</p> - -<p>Dave Greeley was standing at the head of the stairs. The representative -of the FBL was looking both knowledgeable and competent, though even -more gray haired and anxious than last night.</p> - -<p>He nodded quickly at Opperly, said, "Pardon me, doctor," then leveled -his stun-gun between the ranks of men crowding the wall and punched the -trigger. But his nerves couldn't have been as good as Phil thought they -were, for instead of the green cat collapsing, Miss Ames pitched over -on her face, gasping wonderingly, "My leg—I can't feel it!"</p> - -<p>Greeley grimaced and re-directed his stun-gun, as the dust mushroomed -up from the carpet around Miss Ames. But at the same moment Phil felt -the golden wave billowing out from Lucky. Greeley's face turned red and -his fingers stiffly uncurled from the gun, as if invisible hands were -prying them away, and it dropped to the floor.</p> - -<p>At that moment another voice behind them, languorous and scornful, -said, "Stay where you are, gentlemen. It would be dangerous to move -your hands."</p> - -<p>Dora Pannes stood at the head of the stairs. The violet blonde was -simply dressed in a gray frock, while a large handbag swung carelessly -from her shoulder, but she looked rather more beautiful than last -night. In her slender hand was a great big ortho.</p> - -<p>Phil didn't feel at all frightened, although a vague memory nagged -momentarily at his mind. He knew she couldn't hurt anyone while Lucky -was there. He was more interested in the reactions of the others.</p> - -<p>But with one exception there weren't any reactions.</p> - -<p>The exception was da Silva. He was staring at Dora Pannes with a hungry -adoration.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the violet blonde was walking forward in a most business-like -way. She didn't even glance at da Silva. As she passed Greeley, her -free hand snatched sidewise like a lizard's tongue for the stun-gun, -snatched again at a larger one inside his coat, dropped them both in -her handbag, and kept going straight for the cat.</p> - -<p>Now she'll begin to feel it, Phil told himself.</p> - -<p>But she kept straight on. Lucky seemed to be studying her casually. -Abruptly he sprang back onto the window sill, his green fur rose, his -muzzle lengthened, and from it came a prolonged, spitting hiss.</p> - -<p>The next moment Phil felt such a formless terror as he had never known -before, as if all reality were about to be crunched in a single fist, -as if the blackness between the stars were lashing down to strangle -him. Dimly across the hall, he saw the waves of white wash along the -ranked faces. He gazed fearfully at Lucky, as if the green cat had -turned into a devil, and saw Dora Pannes coolly stooping to grab him. -The cat started to streak past her, but Dora's hands were faster. Then -the cat sprang straight at her face, claws raking, but Dora calmly -detached him and shoved him in her handbag and shut it and started -back. She looked quite as beautiful and composed as she had at the -stair head. The blood hadn't started to flow from the scratches in her -face.</p> - -<p>As she passed da Silva, he looked up at her groggily. In his expression -there was still the ghost of desire.</p> - -<p>"You jerk," she said to him and walked on and went down the stairs.</p> - -<p>Phil felt his heart hammering ten, eleven, twelve times, like a clock -striking, and then he was racing downstairs and someone was pounding -along after him.</p> - -<p>He caromed off the open front door and stumbled down the steps in time -to see a dark car roar off. Greeley was beside him now, barking orders -into a pocket radio. From the other end of the street, another car shot -in. Red plumes shot forward from under its hood as it rocket-braked to -a heaving stop. Greeley piled into the back seat. Phil scrambled in -after him.</p> - -<p>"You can still see them," Greeley yelled at the driver. "Take all -chances. Rockets!" Then he turned to Phil. "Who are you?"</p> - -<p>"Phil Gish of the U. S. Newsmoon," Phil replied recklessly, but the -last word was lost in the rocket's roar.</p> - -<p>The other car had been about five blocks away when they had taken off. -As Phil untwisted himself with difficulty from the huddle into which -acceleration had thrown him, he saw that its lead had been reduced to -almost one block.</p> - -<p>"Douse the jets," Greeley ordered. "We can curb them on our regulars; -but watch out they don't shift. They may have rockets. Where do you -stand in Project Kitty, Gish?"</p> - -<p>"Sort of special observer," Phil improvised gaspingly, still hanging -on with both hands. "My section has decided the green cat may not be -dangerous."</p> - -<p>"What?" Greeley demanded, peering ahead.</p> - -<p>"Didn't you feel it up there?" Phil asked.</p> - -<p>"Feel what?" Greeley said, his eyes measuring the lessening distance -between the two cars. "You mean the horror?"</p> - -<p>"No," Phil said. "Peace. Understanding—"</p> - -<p>But just then the car ahead of them slowed a bit and something green -flashed out of it, rolled over half a dozen times, and darted toward an -alley.</p> - -<p>"Brakes!" Greeley yelled and Phil almost tumbled into the lap of the -man beside the driver as the forward rockets jetted and the back of the -car lifted and slammed down. Then he realized he was the only one left -in the car and scrambled out.</p> - -<p>"The alley's blind; there's no way for it to get out," Greeley was -calling. "Advance abreast. Gish, back us up!"</p> - -<p>"Don't hurt him," Phil warned.</p> - -<p>"We know enough for that!" Greeley yelled back.</p> - -<p>By this time Phil was behind them, and saw the green cat crouching -defiantly in the narrow alley's blind end, some twenty feet away from -the advancing men.</p> - -<p>The distance lessened to ten, and then the green cat darted forward, -dodged this way, that, and dove between Greeley and the man on his -right, straight into Phil's outstretched hands.</p> - -<p>"Lucky!" Phil said blissfully, lifting the cat closer.</p> - -<p>Five claws raked his chin painfully, while fifteen others dug into his -hands.</p> - -<p>He looked at the little face. Except for its color, it was a most -ordinary, though spittingly furious cat face. In fact, it was a most -ordinary cat.</p> - -<p>And he could smell the dye.</p> - -<p>"Here," he said calmly and handed the animal to Greeley.</p> - -<p>"Lucky?" Greeley yelled as the claws sank into his hands. "It's a -dye-job, or I'll eat it! They had it all ready and threw it out to -misdirect us. Come on! Here, take it, Simms, we've got to keep it to be -on the safe side."</p> - -<p>And presumably a third man's hands got clawed as they sprinted to the -car.</p> - -<p>But Phil was not with them. He hadn't the heart. As the rockets roared -again, he simply stood halfway down the alley, scratched and weary.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XVI</h2> - - -<p>As the elevator door closed behind Phil and he started the weary climb -from twenty-eight to twenty-nine, he was already tormenting himself for -having turned down Phoebe Filmer's invitation to have a drink in her -room. When she had accosted him in the lobby, babbling about how he had -rescued her at the Tan Jet, he had felt the last thing he wanted to be -with was a human being. But now, with nothing separating him from the -loneliness of his room but an echoing flight of stairs and an empty -corridor, he suddenly realized that he needed human companionship above -everything.</p> - -<p>He remembered how boldly he had set forth just yesterday afternoon -from his room to look at life and plunge into any adventure that came -along. And as it happened he had seen so shockingly much of life and -been buffeted by such vast oceans of adventure, that his brain still -buzzed from it. At times during those incredible twenty-four hours, it -had seemed to him that his whole character was changing, that he was -becoming the daring yet sympathetic adventurer and lover he had always -dreamed of being.</p> - -<p>Yet here he was, dragging himself miserably back to his room, having -just pulled his usual craven trick of saying "No," when he desperately -wanted, at least ten seconds later, to say "Yes." Why, from the speed -with which he was falling back into his old habit patterns, he'd -probably spend the evening spying on Miss Filmer from his darkened -window.</p> - -<p>Oh, he could tell himself there was no reason to give a second thought -to an ordinary pretty woman when he'd just met such a wickedly -desirable girl as Mitzie Romadka and seen such a beauty as Dora -Pannes, not to mention sharing the society of such grotesque but -attractive characters as Juno Jones and Mary Akeley. But that was just -rationalization and he knew it. Phoebe Filmer was more his size, and he -wasn't even big enough for her.</p> - -<p>Or he could once more tell himself that if only Lucky were at his side, -he would be brave and bold again. But even that was no longer quite -true. Fact was, that everything had become much too big for him. He -wanted the green cat, yes, but he wanted him as his own special pet, -his mascot, his good luck cat, something to sleep at the foot of the -bed—not as a mysterious mutant monster that kept getting him involved -with male and female wrestlers, religious crackpots, gun-toting -psychoanalysts, girls with claws, hep-thugs, world-famous scientists, -espers, vice syndicates, FBL raids, national and international crimes, -and a whole lot of other things that were much, much too big for Phil -Gish.</p> - -<p>He coded open his door, stepped inside, and had almost closed it behind -him when he realized that he was not returning to loneliness.</p> - -<p>On her hands and knees, apparently to look under his bed, but now with -her face turned sharply towards him, was the black haired, faun-like -girl whose window was opposite his. He froze in every muscle, his hand -locked to the barely ajar door, ready to jerk it open and run.</p> - -<p>She got up slowly, with a smile. "'Allo," she greeted in a warm voice -with a foreign accent he couldn't place. "I have lost something and I -think maybe he hide in here." She smoothed out the black pied gray suit -he'd watched her take off last night. Then she leisurely ran her hand -back across her head and down the pony tail in which her hair-do ended.</p> - -<p>"Something?" Phil croaked gallantly, his hand still glued fast behind -him. He couldn't help it, but every time he looked her in the eye his -gaze had to travel fearfully down her figure to her 10-inch platform -shoes.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she confirmed, "a—how you call him?—pussycat." Then, after a -bit, "Say, you act like you know me." Her smile widened and she shook a -finger at him. "'Ave you been peek at me, you naughty boy?"</p> - -<p>Phil gulped and said nothing, yet that remark did a great deal to -humanize her for him. Hallucinations don't make one blush.</p> - -<p>"Thas all right," she reassured him. "Windows across, why not? Same -thing—windows across and both open a little—make me think maybe my -pussycat jump over here. So I step across to see."</p> - -<p>"Step across?" Phil demanded a bit hysterically, his gaze once more -shooting to her legs.</p> - -<p>"Sure," she said smilingly and indicated the window. "Take a look."</p> - -<p>With considerable reluctance, Phil unstuck his hand from the door and -gingerly walked to the open window. Spanning the ten feet between it -and the one opposite, was a flimsy looking telescope ladder of some -gray metal.</p> - -<p>Phil turned around. "Is it a green cat?" he asked reluctantly.</p> - -<p>Her face brightened. "So he did jump across."</p> - -<p>Phil nodded. "What's more," he went on rapidly, "I think I met your -brother today, a journalist named Dion da Silva, representing the -newspaper <i>La Prensa</i>."</p> - -<p>She nodded eagerly at the first proper name. "Thas right," she said. "I -am Dytie da Silva."</p> - -<p>"And I am Phil Gish. Did you say Dytie?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. Short for Aphrodite, goddess of love. You like? Please, where my -brother and pussycat now?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't the faintest idea," Phil said sadly.</p> - -<p>She shrugged as if she expected to hear just that. "Is nothing new. We -are crazy people, always get lost each other."</p> - -<p>"Then you do come from Argentina?" Phil asked doubtfully. Her accent -didn't sound Spanish, but his acquaintance with Spanish accents was -limited.</p> - -<p>"Sure," she confirmed carelessly, her thoughts apparently elsewhere. -"Far, far country."</p> - -<p>"Tell me, Miss da Silva," he went on, "does your cat have peculiar -powers over people?"</p> - -<p>She frowned at him. "Peculiar powers?" she repeated slowly as if -testing each syllable. "Don understand."</p> - -<p>"I mean," Phil explained patiently, "can he make people happy around -him?"</p> - -<p>The frown smoothed. "Sure. Nice little pussycat, make people happy. You -like animals, Phil?"</p> - -<p>Once again he couldn't keep his gaze from flickering to her legs, but -on the whole he was feeling remarkably bucked up.</p> - -<p>"Miss da Silva," he said, "I've got a lot more questions to ask you, -but unfortunately I don't know Spanish and I don't think you understand -English well enough to answer the questions if I put them to you cold. -But maybe if I tell you just what's been happening to me, you'll be -able to; at least, I hope so. Sit down Miss da Silva; it's a long, long -story."</p> - -<p>"Is very good idea," she agreed, sinking down on the bed. "But please -call Dytie, Phil."</p> - -<p>She makes one feel at ease, Phil thought as he placed himself in the -foam chair opposite. "Well, Dytie, it began ..." and for the next hour -he told her in some detail the story of what had happened to him ever -since he had awakened to see Lucky sitting on the window sill. He -suppressed entirely, however, the incident of watching her last night, -which made it necessary for him also to condense the account of his -session with Dr. Romadka. Dytie frequently interrupted him to ask for -explanations, some of them exceedingly obvious things, such as what -was a hatpin, and what was the Federal Bureau of Loyalty and what was -it that male and female wrestlers tried to do to each other in the -ring? On the other hand, she sometimes passed up things he expected -to puzzle her, though he couldn't always tell whether this was because -she really understood them, or because she didn't want to. Orthos -interested her not at all, stun-guns, mightily. Lucky's exploits did -not seem to startle her much. Her usual comment was along these lines: -"That pussycat. Is so stupid. But Lucky, too. Thas good name you give -him, Phil."</p> - -<p>When he came to the Humberford Foundation and Dytie's brother, she -rolled over on her stomach and listened with closer attention. But -when he hesitantly mentioned how Dion had seemed to develop such an -instant yen for Dora Pannes, she whooped knowingly. "That brother," she -chortled. "He chase anything with two legs and milk glands. 'Cept of -course when he pregnant."</p> - -<p>"What!"</p> - -<p>"Say something? Must got wrong word," Dytie interposed quickly, -brushing the matter aside.</p> - -<p>But she was very much interested in Morton Opperly and insisted on Phil -telling her a great deal about the famous scientist.</p> - -<p>"He smart man," she said with conviction. "Very much like meet."</p> - -<p>"I'll try to manage it sometime," Phil said and told how the green cat -had been captured by Dora Pannes.</p> - -<p>Dytie shook her head solemnly. "Some people got very hard hearts," she -said. "Don like pussycat all."</p> - -<p>Phil quickly rounded off his story with an account of how the fake -green cat in the alley had scratched him.</p> - -<p>Dytie got up and came over and touched his hands tenderly. "Poor Phil," -she said, then summarized: "So we know who have pussycat, but not -where?"</p> - -<p>"That's right," Phil said quickly, "and that where is a tough one, -because Billig's hiding from the FBL." And he got up rapidly, trying -not to make it obvious that he wanted to put a few feet between them. -Dytie's fingers were soft and gentle enough, but there was something -about her touch and her close presence that set him shivering. -Conceivably, it was her odor, which wasn't strong or even unpleasant, -just completely unfamiliar. She looked after him rather wistfully, but -did not try to follow. He faced her across the room.</p> - -<p>"Well, that's my story, Dytie," he said a bit breathlessly. "And now I -want to ask my questions. Just what kind of a cat have you got, that -Fun Incorporated could hope to bribe the federal government with it? Is -it a mutant with telepathic powers and able to control emotions? Is it -a throwback, or maybe deliberately bred back to an otherwise extinct -animal? Is it some cockeyed triumph of Soviet genetics, working along -lines our scientists don't accept? Damn it, is it even some sort of -Egyptian god, like Sacheverell thinks? It's your turn to talk, Dytie."</p> - -<p>But instead of answering him, she merely smiled and said, "'Scuse me, -Phil, but that long story yours really long. Be right back."</p> - -<p>He expected her to walk out the window and wondered what he'd do. But -she merely went into the bathroom and shut the door.</p> - -<p>He paced around, unbearably keyed up, lifting small objects and putting -them down again. Nervously he turned on the radio, sight and sound, -though he didn't look at it and didn't understand a word of what the -inane sports gossipist was loudly yapping about the feats, follies and -frivolities of the muscle stars. Then on his next circuit of the room, -he happened to tread hard as he passed the radio, and something went -wrong with it, so that the sound sank to a very low mumble and he was -once more alone in his agitation.</p> - -<p>So much so that he jumped when he heard a small noise behind him.</p> - -<p>The hall door had opened. Mitzie Romadka was standing just outside, -looking both adolescent and weary in faded blue sweater and slacks. A -lock of her long, dark hair trailed in front of her ear. She fixed on -Phil an unhappy, defiant stare.</p> - -<p>"Last night I said 'Goodbye forever' and I meant it," she began -abruptly. "So don't get any ideas. I've come here to warn you about -something." Her voice broke a little. "Oh, it's all such an awful -mess." She bit her lip and recovered herself. "It isn't just that -Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck hate me, or that you tried to make me -get mushy and humble. When I came home by the service chute early this -morning, I overheard my father talking with two other men. I listened -and found out that he's a Soviet agent and that his job now is to get -the green cat no matter how much killing it takes. And he thinks you -have it."</p> - -<p>Phil looked at her and the hours between were gone and he was back in -the little tangled square at dawn and Mitzie was about to leave him, -and all his snapping nervous tension flowed in a new and steadier -channel.</p> - -<p>"Darling," he said softly and carefully, as if a sudden noise might -make her vanish, "Mitzie darling, I wasn't trying to humble you."</p> - -<p>"Oh?" she said, tucking the lock of hair back of her ear.</p> - -<p>He moved toward her very slowly. "Actually I was just being conceited -and I was jealous—both of you and your boy friends."</p> - -<p>"Be very careful what you say, Phil," she whispered fearfully. "Be very -honest."</p> - -<p>"All right then," he said, "I was trying to humble you; I was doing my -best to. I was full of the sort of vanity and condescension that comes -from understanding too much. I didn't know that your kind of defiance -and glory has a place in the world. Mitzie, I love you."</p> - -<p>He put his arms around her and she didn't vanish. The feeling of her -body against his wasn't like anything he'd imagined. It was simply slim -and quite trusting and terribly tired.</p> - -<p>Then her chin lifted from his shoulder and he was shoved back about six -feet.</p> - -<p>Mitzie was glaring at and beyond him. He was relieved that she didn't -seem to have a gun, or knife, or claws, or anything like that.</p> - -<p>He looked around. Dytie da Silva, leaning against the bathroom door, -was watching them quizzically. "'Allo," she greeted them cheerfully, -then asked Phil, "Girl friend?"</p> - -<p>Mitzie turned pale. "How many do you try to take on at once?" she spat -at Phil.</p> - -<p>"Don worry," Dytie advised relaxedly. "He very timid at first."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mitzie exclaimed loudly, and stamped on the floor with both feet -at once.</p> - -<p>The radio came on loud again. "... long been known that she and her -husband weren't on sleeping terms. But ironically her fans had to wait -until what, with the outlawing of male-female wrestling, was probably -her last professional appearance, before getting a glimpse of her new -boy friend."</p> - -<p>In the middle of the bright screen was Phil, with a dazed look and a -silly smile on his face. Juno's arm was clutched around him and she was -shouting "... even I gotta have a love life! And don't you be insulting -it!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mitzie shouted, crashed the palm of her hand against Phil's left -cheek, ran out the door and slammed it behind her. Phil stood there a -few seconds. Then he turned off the radio and wiped the tears out of -his left eye.</p> - -<p>"Why you no chase?" Dytie inquired pleasantly. "Don worry, Phil, she -come back. She really love you all more. She proud you such virile man, -have many girls."</p> - -<p>"Please," Phil groaned, lifting his hand. "That was good-bye forever."</p> - -<p>"Forever is never. She come back," Dytie said.</p> - -<p>And just then there was a timid knock at the door. Phil opened it, -wondering whether he should slap Mitzie right away or wait. Dr. Anton -Romadka pointed significantly at Phil's neck with a stun-gun and walked -in.</p> - -<p>The small psychoanalyst looked nattily professional in the -old-fashioned business suit, white shirt and necktie affected by some -doctors. There was even a vest buttoned over his little paunch. His -left cheek was as smooth as his gleaming bald head; evidently he'd -covered the scratches with skin film. His expression radiated fatherly -good will and reasonableness, though he kept the stun-gun pointed -straight at Phil and every now and then his gaze flickered to Dytie.</p> - -<p>"Phil," he began, "I shall not deny the statement my daughter just -made about me, for if you will only consider carefully, it will -make us allies and comrades. Who could know as well as you, Phil, -how hideously psychotic American civilization has become? You've -personally experienced what it can do to the brain, the body, the -sense organs. And who could appreciate as well as you, Phil, the -sanity of the Workers' Republics, where under the first firm rule of -Marxist fact and absolute science, all psychosis is impossible—because -all irrationalisms, all illusion (including the mad vaporings of a -gangrened capitalism and its pseudo-science) are inconceivable."</p> - -<p>Phil found himself goggling his eyes and vaguely nodding. He shook -himself. Romadka's cheery voice was remarkably hypnotic.</p> - -<p>"Of course, I should have realized all this last night, Phil, and -appealed to your reason," said Romadka as he kept the stun-gun -trained on Phil's neck with geometric precision. "But I was hurried -and emotionally upset—even our agents are not wholly immune to the -American infection when living with it—and I made several mistakes. -Among other things I did not take my unfortunate daughter into account -early enough, though I am certainly glad she came to warn you, since it -enabled me to locate you. Which in turn will enable you, Phil, and your -charming companion, to enjoy the bracing sanity of the Soviets."</p> - -<p>The small psychiatrist smiled and carefully propped himself on the -arm of the foam chair. His voice became genially confidential. "And -now, children," he said, for the first time including Dytie in his -nod, "I am going to tell you how you can do a great service to the -illusion-immune state and win an undying welcome when you reach its -realistic shores. Psychotic capitalism, faced by total defeat in the -next war, has loosed against the Workers' Republics a final filthy -weapon: its own collective madnesses and herd delusions, catalyzed by -subtle electronic and chemical bombardments of the collective Soviet -nerve tissue. To date this capitalist poison in the Soviet Pan-Union -has largely taken the form of delusions involving green cats. Don't -mistake me, these green cats are undoubtedly real. It is my firm belief -that they are ordinary cats with tiny electronic senders surgeried -into their bodies, and with hormone spraying capacities comparable in -their vileness to those of skunks. Although the green cats are possibly -not the most important element in the assault on the Soviet psyche, -they are the main stage props in that assault. Unfortunately, we have -not been able to lay our hands on one of these creatures, in order -to confirm our deductions and shape proper counter measures. It is -absolutely essential that we do so."</p> - -<p>"But there's only one green cat," Phil objected, genuinely puzzled, -"and it's supposed to be attacking America. It isn't, of course."</p> - -<p>"I'll say it isn't. My boy, I am giving you the Marxist facts," Romadka -assured him gravely. "Those stories you have heard are merely blinds -put out by the capitalist government to conceal from its own work -slaves and pseudo scientists the enormity of its actions. What has -happened is that a green cat has escaped from a government laboratory -here. You led me to that cat once, Phil. You can do it again."</p> - -<p>"I can't," Phil said mildly.</p> - -<p>"Phil, you can," Romadka assured him.</p> - -<p>"But you got him once," Phil objected, "and all you did was let him go -again."</p> - -<p>For the first time a shadow of impatience darkened Romadka's geniality. -"I told you I made some mistakes last night. I let someone get a -hypo-beam on me, probably a drug spray too. For a time I wasn't -responsible for my actions. It was all I could do to escape the FBL -raid. But it won't happen again." His voice grew brisk. "So come on -along with me, Phil, and bring your friend. There's no more time for -discussion."</p> - -<p>"But—" Phil began.</p> - -<p>Dytie da Silva stepped into the foreground. "Me no go," she told -Romadka. "Why should I? You sound crazy head. 'Lusion-'mune state? -'Rationalisms impossible? Abs'lute science? All nonsense!"</p> - -<p>The psychoanalyst lifted his eyebrows at her accent and sentiments. "I -was just about to take up your case, young lady. Why are you here in -the first place?"</p> - -<p>"Just come from room across," Dytie told him, jerking a thumb at the -window.</p> - -<p>Romadka studied her through narrowed eyes behind which memory seemed to -be at work. Suddenly he smiled thinly. "The description tallies," he -said. "You're the young woman Mr. Gish watched undressing last night, -and onto whom he grafted a remarkable delusion."</p> - -<p>"Phil, you never tell me about that," Dytie said, looking at him -brightly.</p> - -<p>"Naturally he wouldn't," Romadka said, a bit primly.</p> - -<p>"Why not?" Dytie demanded. "I don care. If he like, okay."</p> - -<p>Romadka looked at her contemptuously. "A common exhibitionist, I see. -Nymphomania too."</p> - -<p>Dytie planted her hands on her hips. "Look, I no say long words good. -But your diagnose wrong there. Not nym'omania—satyr'asis. I show you." -And then and there she started to peel off a stocking. Phil watched in -fascinated horror.</p> - -<p>Romadka stood up angrily. "Of all the—" he began. "If you think that -some crude appeal to my sexual urges—"</p> - -<p>But at that moment Dytie pulled off her shoe and foot, and held out -her dainty black hoof, fur-tufted fetlock and slim pastern for his -inspection. "Okay, 'lusion-'mune," she said grimly. "Take good look. -Satyr'asis!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Romadka's knees shook. His face was gray. His eyes bulged.</p> - -<p>Without warning, Dytie stooped, spun around, and let go with a very -accurate kick. The stun-gun shot out of Romadka's trembling hand and -clattered against the wall beyond. Romadka snatched his hand away as if -the hoof were hell, and stumbled frantically out of the room. The sound -of his rapid, uneven footsteps slowly faded out. Phil knew just how he -felt. It was all he could do not to follow him.</p> - -<p>Dytie began to laugh uproariously. While doing so, she hobbled over to -the door, shut it and then picked up Romadka's gun.</p> - -<p>"This stun-gun?" she asked Phil.</p> - -<p>Phil wet his lips and clutched at the table for support. He knew he -must be quite as pale as Romadka. "Dytie," he finally managed to say, -his teeth chattering, "you come from a country a lot farther away than -Argentina."</p> - -<p>She smiled apologetically. "Thas right, Phil. I got longer story yours -tell."</p> - -<p>Phil nodded shakily. "But first, if you please ..." he faltered, and -pointed at the shoe, foot and crumpled stocking she'd dropped on the -floor.</p> - -<p>"Sure, Phil. I un'erstand." She picked them up and sat down on the edge -of the bed to put them on. Phil followed her movements unwillingly, but -when it came to the point where she was about to thrust her hoof into -the deep well in the false foot and the platform he flinched and looked -away.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile she was saying matter-of-factly, "You no tell 'lusion-'mune -man, but you got idea where pussycat is?"</p> - -<p>"No," he replied nervously, "but I know where I might be able to find -out."</p> - -<p>"Is in this city?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"You take me there, Phil?"</p> - -<p>"I guess so."</p> - -<p>"Don you want find pussycat too, Phil?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I think I do."</p> - -<p>"Okay, thas fine. You can look now."</p> - -<p>He forced himself to steal a glance at her, then let out a sigh of -relief. Her two legs were once more just like any other girl's. -Illusion, he decided, was at times the Bread of Life.</p> - -<p>"And now," he said, "you can answer those questions of mine."</p> - -<p>But just then there was more rapping at the door.</p> - -<p>"This time girl friend," Dytie told him optimistically.</p> - -<p>But Phil was taking no more chances. He switched on the one-way -peephole first, and looked straight into the face of Dave Greeley.</p> - -<p>When Phil whispered "Federal Bureau of Loyalty," to Dytie, she jumped -up. During his long narrative she had asked him several questions -about that organization, he had answered them in detail, and she had -apparently formed some very definite conclusions. "We got beat it, -Phil. No time question-answer now." And she lightly sprang to the -window sill and walked across the ladder.</p> - -<p>It wasn't as long as the beam at the Akeleys', but it was ten times -as high and Phil wasn't drunk. If he hadn't crossed the beam at the -Akeley's and gone down the service chute at the Romadkas', he would -never have dared it. His heart was hammering as he let himself down -into Dytie's room. He turned around with some vague idea of removing -the ladder. He heard a crash in his room. Dytie grabbed him.</p> - -<p>"No time now," she said. And she urged him out of her room into the -corridor.</p> - -<p>Seconds later they were entering the elevator on her side of the -building. "Hey, that's the up button," he warned as she punched it.</p> - -<p>"I know, Phil," she said reassuringly.</p> - -<p>Emerging on the roof, Phil felt for a moment a big sense of freedom. -The sodium mirror had not quite set, and everything around was bright -although the lower part of the sky was dark and many stars showed in it.</p> - -<p>Then he saw the half dozen copters swinging in low toward them like -june bugs.</p> - -<p>Dytie was hustling him along, but only toward an empty corner of the -roof. He resented her pointless display of energy. A mighty voice from -the sky commanded them to stop.</p> - -<p>Dytie halted almost at the edge of the roof, felt around in the air, -climbed a couple of feet up into it and felt around again.</p> - -<p>There was the sound of a copter scraping, bouncing and grounding behind -them.</p> - -<p>Dytie opened in the air a small doorway that was black as ink, and -climbed inside. She turned around, her face a pale mask in an inky -rectangle, urged, "Come on, Phil," and stretched a white arm out of the -rectangle down toward him.</p> - -<p>Phil stared at this weird air-framed portrait. Beneath it he could -clearly see the sheer walls of the building opposite and the dizzying -ribbon of street fifty floors below.</p> - -<p>Behind him men shouted and there was another shattering command from -the sky.</p> - -<p>Phil grabbed Dytie's wrist. His other hand, fumbling blindly, found an -invisible rung in the air. So did his foot. He scrambled up the air and -pitched over the sill of the inky doorway, into an inky sack and found -a curving floor under him. Rolling over, he saw behind him a rectangle -of the sky with three stars in it. The rectangle narrowed and vanished, -and there was no light at all.</p> - -<p>Then he started to fall.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XVII</h2> - - -<p>Phil struck out wildly, with the instinctive hope that a man falling to -his death could warp space to his advantage if he tensed his muscles -sufficiently.</p> - -<p>Then he wondered how long it would take a man to fall fifty floors, but -the mathematics were beyond anything he could do quickly enough in his -head.</p> - -<p>Then he asked himself why the inky sack was falling with him.</p> - -<p>Then he retched, but brought up only the ghosts of a yeast-spread -sandwich and a glass of soybean milk consumed a day ago.</p> - -<p>He continued to fall.</p> - -<p>Soft light sprang up around him. He was inside a sphere some eight feet -in diameter and his feet were near the center, while his cheek gently -brushed the sphere's soft lining. Swiveling his gaze past his feet, he -noticed Dytie da Silva sprawled negligently in the air and intently -studying a screen set in the lining of the sphere.</p> - -<p>But he was still falling.</p> - -<p>Phil knew little enough about space ships, but he knew they couldn't -safely go into free-fall without accelerating first to get some kind of -edge on earth's gravitational field.</p> - -<p>But there had been no acceleration.</p> - -<p>"Dytie!" he yelled, and in the confined space the noise was deafening. -"What's happening to me?"</p> - -<p>Wincing a bit, she looked around at him. "Shh, Phil. You in free-fall -but not falling. I turn off grav'ty."</p> - -<p>Still retching, Phil tried to comprehend that idea. "Turn off gravity?" -He was still falling, but no longer so sure he was going to hit -anything.</p> - -<p>Dytie looked along his helplessly sprawled body at his face. "Sure, -Phil. Grav'ty go round this little boat just like light do. Grav'ty no -pull it, light no show it."</p> - -<p>"That's why it was invisible?"</p> - -<p>"Vis'ble? Nobody see it. Wait bit, Phil, got do things."</p> - -<p>"But in a ship like this you could travel—" Phil began, his mind -suddenly full of dizzying speculations.</p> - -<p>"This not ship, Phil, just dinghy. No talk now."</p> - -<p>Phil's falling acquired a direction. He found himself drifting gently -toward Dytie. "Here 'side me, Phil," she instructed. A few moments -later he was comfortably stretched out on his stomach beside Dytie, his -head poised like hers above the screen.</p> - -<p>And then the speed of his new directed fall increased, although the -sphere was no longer falling with him, until his body was comfortably -pressed against the soft lining. He deduced after a while that they -must be accelerating, although he got his chief clue from the screen.</p> - -<p>At first he couldn't interpret the picture on the screen. It was in -shades of violet and showed a few large squares and oblongs with dark -ribbons between most of them. On the central square were a number of -dots, which slowly moved as he watched them—also three or four crosses -with blobs at their centers. Gradually the squares and rectangles -shrank, while more of the same came onto the screen from the edges. He -realized that he was looking down at the city and that the dots, which -he could hardly distinguish any more, were the men hunting them, while -the crosses were the copters.</p> - -<p>For a bit his stomach chilled at the thought of being poised so high -above the city and going higher. But then he began to lose himself -in the wonder of the picture. Phil hadn't traveled a great deal by -air and had seen even less when he'd done so, and the growing picture -of the city was enthralling. He began to feel rather like a god and -to speculate how he'd mete out justice to mankind if he owned this -mysterious little dinghy. Visions of sudden descents on dictators -danced in his head.</p> - -<p>"We soon high 'nough, Phil," she said. "Hold on hands, stick feet under -bar."</p> - -<p>He obeyed her instructions, taking hold of two handles and thrusting -his legs under a large padded bar. A moment later he knew the reason, -for he began to be pulled away from the screen and had to hold on -tight. He deduced that they were decelerating. After a bit this -stopped too and he was once more "in free-fall but not falling." -Meanwhile, the picture in the screen had become one of the whole -city—a checkerboard of tiny squares not unlike a map.</p> - -<p>Dytie produced and unfolded an ordinary street map and flattened it out -beside the screen.</p> - -<p>"You say you know where find out pussycat is. You say in city. Show -Dytie."</p> - -<p>Phil forced his mind to tackle this problem. His first realization was -just how flimsy the hope was on which he'd based his statement to Dytie -that he might be able to locate the green cat. It depended on Billig -having the green cat, on Jack Jones knowing where Billig had hidden -from the FBL, and on Jack being in hiding himself at the Akeleys'. -Still, it was the only way he knew of getting a line on Lucky.</p> - -<p>And then it occurred to him that he didn't know where the Akeley house -was located. But a sudden memory of a huge show window full of marching -mannequins came to his rescue. The Akeley house was next to Monstro -Multi-Products, and everybody knew the address of that vast department -store. He located it for Dytie on the street map and then on the -screen. Soon they were accelerating downward, so that he had to cling -to the handles again, while the squares on the screen were growing -larger, with the large square that was Monstro Multi-Products moving -toward the center.</p> - -<p>He started to ask Dytie to answer the questions he'd put to her in his -room, but she cut him off with, "Like say, very long story. No time -now. First find pussycat. Very 'portant."</p> - -<p>The rectangle representing the roof of Monstro Multi-Products now -filled quite a bit of the screen, and the streets beside it were broad -ribbons. Their descent slowed. Dytie maneuvered the dinghy around the -department store until Phil spotted, at the base of the building next -to it, the tiny slot indicating the cubical pocket of space in which -the Akeley house stood, robbed of its air-rights.</p> - -<p>As they dropped slowly into the canyon of the street past windowed and -windowless walls, Phil felt a witchery in the violet version of the -city. He could make out beetles and tinier bugs—cars and people.</p> - -<p>Soon they were hovering only ten feet above the violet sidewalk and the -unsuspecting pedestrians.</p> - -<p>Then Dytie slipped the dinghy between the rail of the sidewalk and the -"floor" of the tall building over the Akeley house. The violet picture -grew quite dark. They descended a little farther, past the top-level -street and the one next below it until they were a couple of feet above -the pile of bricks from the fallen chimney. Dytie moved some controls. -The screen went blank, the lights went out, and with breath-taking -suddenness Phil's body crunched into the soft lining as normal weight -returned.</p> - -<p>"Got legs down for dinghy to stand on," Dytie told him. "Quiet now, -Phil."</p> - -<p>A slit of lesser darkness appeared beyond Dytie and widened to a -rectangle through which, after a bit, he could make out a section of -the Akeley porch. Then the rectangle was obstructed as Dytie climbed -out through it. Phil followed her, feet first, moving them around until -they found the rungs, and carefully climbed down until he could step -off onto the Akeleys' gritty front yard. Then he looked up. As far as -he could see there was absolutely nothing above him except the two -upper-level streets and the dull black "ceiling" above the house. Not -only did light "go around" the dinghy, but it did so without getting -shuffled.</p> - -<p>"All safe," Dytie assured him. "Nobody climb over rocks, bump in ladder -legs. This place, Phil?"</p> - -<p>The Akeley house looked more ancient and dangerously dilapidated than -ever, canted forward at least a foot after the chimney's collapse. A -gaping wound had been left in the two upper stories and nothing had -been done to bandage it. However, a little light glowed through the -shutters of the living-room windows.</p> - -<p>Stepping gingerly, with an eye cocked on the ominously slanting wall, -Phil led Dytie up onto the porch and around the corner of it. He -hesitated for a moment in front of the old door with the tiny cat door -cut in the bottom of it, then lifted his hand to the cat-headed knocker -and banged it twice. After a while there were footsteps, the old style -peephole was opened, and this time Phil immediately recognized the -watery gray eye as Sacheverell's.</p> - -<p>"Greetings, Phil," the latter said. "Who's that with you?"</p> - -<p>"A young lady named Dytie da Silva."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell opened the door. "Come right in. Fate must be at work. Her -brother's here."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XVIII</h2> - - -<p>The Akeley living room was as crazily cluttered as when Phil last saw -it. No one had done much, if any, cleaning up after the fight. In -addition, there were a large number of dirty plates, cups and glasses -abandoned in odd places. Judging by the remnants of food and drink in -them, three informal meals had been consumed since last night, not -counting snacks.</p> - -<p>The black velvet curtains at the far end of the room had been pulled -aside, revealing the altar Sacheverell had prepared for Lucky in what -had been the dining room a century ago. It consisted of a small table -or box set against the far wall and covered with reddish-brown velvet -that trailed to the floor in graceful folds. Fastened to the wall above -it was an ancient ankh or crux ansata, the Egyptian cross with looped -top, symbolizing procreation and life. On lower tables to either side -were large unlit candles and statuettes of many of the Egyptian gods: -queenly Isis, whip-wielding Osiris, jackal-jawed Anubis and cat-headed -Bast herself.</p> - -<p>And there was the same profusion of cats, though they were no longer -peaceful as they'd been when Lucky was in the house. They stalked about -with ears drawn back and fur fluffed fearsomely; they ambushed each -other from behind and under furniture; they snarled and jumped whenever -they met. Those wolfing the bits of food left on plates would lift -their heads every few seconds to hiss warnings. The only one asleep was -impiously curled on Lucky's altar.</p> - -<p>The dark low table inlaid with a silver pentacle had been righted and -placed in the center of the room. On it were glasses and a bottle of -brandy. Beside it sat Juno Jones, still in her dowdy dress with the -ripped sleeves hanging from her meaty arms, but with her flower covered -hat once more jammed down over her cropped blonde hair. She looked -sullen and on the defensive.</p> - -<p>Across the table from her, leaning forward in their chairs, sat Dion -da Silva and Morton Opperly. Both of them stood up as Sacheverell -triumphantly swept Phil and Dytie into the room, saying "Our council of -war—or perhaps I should say muscular peace—is complete!"</p> - -<p>Opperly smiled courteously, seeming completely at home in these wild, -wonderful and crummy surroundings; perhaps a mind hungry for any and -all facts liked a grubby bohemian atmosphere.</p> - -<p>Dion da Silva on the other hand, as soon as he spotted Dytie, put -down the big glass of whiskey he was holding and whooped out three or -four words in a foreign language, then caught himself and changed to, -"'Allo, darling! Great see. 'Allo, 'allo, 'allo."</p> - -<p>By this time he had Dytie in his arms and was hugging her with a -hungriness that struck Phil as distinctly unbrotherly. She wasn't being -any too sisterly about it herself. But finally she pushed him away with -a gasp. "Thas 'nough," she told him. "Great see too, dumbhead. 'Bout -time turn up."</p> - -<p>Dion looked hurt for as long as it took him to get his glass of -whiskey. "Know what doing?" he asked his sister excitedly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, get drunk," she told him and whispered to Phil, "Know what Dion -short for? God wine. Pick good name, eh?"</p> - -<p>"No get drunk," Dion asserted with some dignity. Then his excitement -got the better of him again and he burst out with, "We finding -pussycat!"</p> - -<p>There was a giggle that Phil recognized. Looking around, he saw Mary -Akeley sitting in her alcove backed by her shelves of wax dolls and -busy at work sewing clothes for another under a large magnifier. -Sacheverell's witch-nosed young wife had shifted to an almost -off-the-bosom evening dress and tied a huge green bow around her coarse -dark hair.</p> - -<p>"That man, he cuts me up in little pieces every time he says a word," -she gurgled, without pausing in her work. "He's so cute."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, sweetheart," Dion replied, gayly waving his glass at her, "I -cute all over. All full s'prises. Show sometime."</p> - -<p>Dytie suppressed a guffaw and whispered to Phil, "'Member tell you: two -legs, milk glands?" Phil nodded, though he judged that Dion's interest -in Mary didn't nearly come up to his thirsty adoration of Dora Pannes. -The satyr (Phil felt shocked at how glibly the word came into his mind) -was just keeping his hand in.</p> - -<p>Sacheverell ignored the flirtatious interchange. His sun-burned -features gleamed with controlled excitement. "The young lady is Dytie -da Silva, Dion's sister," he told Opperly and Juno. Then he turned to -Phil. "I suppose you're wondering why Dr. Opperly and Señor da Silva -are here. Well, I brought them along with me from the Foundation -because both of them are genuinely interested in <i>him</i>, and among the -lot of us I think we have a very good chance of delivering <i>him</i> from -his enemies."</p> - -<p>"What he mean, him?" Dytie asked Phil. "He means pussycat?"</p> - -<p>Phil nodded.</p> - -<p>"I mean the Green One," Sacheverell confirmed a bit reprovingly. "I -mean Bast Returned, the Bringer of Love and Concord."</p> - -<p>Dytie didn't bother with that, but went on to whisper to Phil, "He say -Op'ly. Op'ly nice slim man there good face? Meet us please."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell was getting set for a speech and he gave Phil a faintly -pained look when the latter performed the desired introduction. -Dr. Opperly surprised Phil by gallantly kissing Dytie's hand and -then not letting go of it. He didn't behave at all like a scientist -of eighty-plus years should. And Dytie turned on a lot more charm -than Phil recalled her using on him. As the two of them stood there -murmuring happy but probably highly intelligent nothings to each other, -Phil felt a jealous impulse to call out to Opperly, "Wait until you -see her real legs," but he somehow suspected that Opperly wouldn't be -shocked at Dytie's real legs or anything about her. He had noted a look -of surprise come into Opperly's face as the latter took Dytie's hand, -and from his own experience he'd known why, but Opperly's surprise had -turned not to revulsion, but to eager interest.</p> - -<p>Opperly's voice suddenly became sharp, clear and romantic: "I'd be -delighted to, Miss da Silva."</p> - -<p>Dytie turned to the others with a self-satisfied smile. "Op'ly me got -much talk 'bout," she announced. "'Scuse please. Dion you take care -pussycat business me."</p> - -<p>And she and Dr. Opperly strolled out through the dining room arm in -arm, beaming at each other and chatting happily.</p> - -<p>Sacheverell looked after them a shade critically. "They don't seem to -have any great regard for the importance of the situation, I must say, -so we'll carry on by ourselves in making plans to rescue the Green One. -Mr. Gish, what have you to contribute?"</p> - -<p>In a few sentences Phil sketched how he'd found Lucky at Fun -Incorporated, lost him again, then caught up with him at the Humberford -Foundation just before Dora Pannes grabbed him.</p> - -<p>As soon as Phil finished, Mary Akeley cut in. She was through sewing -clothes and had begun to put them on a relatively bulky doll which -Phil recognized as the portrait of Moe Brimstine she'd started on -last night. To his amazement, Phil noticed that she was even putting -underwear on the doll and slipping almost microscopically tiny objects -into its pants pockets with a tiny tweezer.</p> - -<p>She said, "Did you happen to find out, Phil, why little old Dr. Romadka -kidnapped those three cats of ours?"</p> - -<p>Phil explained, as briefly and unsickeningly as he could, what had -happened to them.</p> - -<p>Mary reached over her shoulder and got the doll that was the image of -Dr. Romadka. She fixed on it her witchiest stare.</p> - -<p>"Slow, slow acid dripped on your forehead," she incanted with a -sincerity that sent gooseflesh coursing under Phil's shirt. "And I hope -it's days before it gets in your eye. That's the first and mildest of -your torments." She picked up the doll she'd been dressing and informed -it, "That goes for you, too. After the acid really gets in the first -eye, we deviate to other parts of your body. To begin with...."</p> - -<p>A sudden cat fight prevented Phil from finding out just how nasty -Mary Akeley's imagination could get. Sacheverell separated the five -squalling combatants with a few painless but strategic kicks. Then he -hitched up his turquoise slacks and said, looking at his wife severely, -"Now perhaps we can forget all hates and other dark vibrations and get -down to business. Here's the situation, Mr. Gish. Earlier today, Juno -overheard her husband Jackie tell Cookie where Billig and Mr. Brimstine -are hiding...."</p> - -<p>"Just Moe Brimstine," Juno corrected dourly.</p> - -<p>"Comes to the same thing," Sacheverell went on. "Now Jackie and Cookie -are safely asleep upstairs...."</p> - -<p>"Yes," Juno butted in again, "but they're not going to stay that way -too much longer."</p> - -<p>"Not after what you put in their whiskey?" Sacheverell asked her with a -thin smile.</p> - -<p>"Listen," Juno told him, "those two guys have had more things in their -whiskey than ever got wrote down in books jerks like you read. They're -tough, the little punks."</p> - -<p>"Well, if they do wake up, I'm sure you can take care of the two of -them. So there's the situation, Mr. Gish, and the only trouble is -that Mrs. Jones won't tell us where Mr. Brimstine is. She started to, -but then she shut up like an air lock. We've pleaded with her, we've -implored her, we've promised her things. I've done my best to explain -to her just how cosmically important it is that the Green One be served -and worshipped properly, so that he will be able to change the world. -Señor da Silva flattered and jollied her, and Dr. Opperly was friendly -as anything. But she just won't talk."</p> - -<p>"I sure won't talk to nuts like you," the female wrestler told him -wrathfully. "If you hadn't started acting so squirrely, I'd have -probably spilled it straight off. But I'm not the sort of person who -likes to be jollied or anything else—"</p> - -<p>"'Scuse please," Dion interrupted. "No jolly, really mean. Much like -you, Juno Jones. Big strong woman."</p> - -<p>"And I don't enjoy nut talk," Juno said to Sacheverell, ignoring da -Silva. "Every crazy reason you gave me for talking made me that much -surer I wouldn't." She took a drink and turned toward Phil, her elbows -on her correspondingly large knees. "Now, with you it's different," she -said. "You got a nut's idea of food, but outside of that you're pretty -human. And I gotta admit you're a gutsy little guy, because I saw you -go up against Brimstine and from what I hear you did some more of the -same later. But the main thing is that you own this crazy cat, or at -least you was looking for it when I first met you. And I don't believe -you had any nut ideas about it, though I thought so at the time. That -right, Phil? Or are you planning to do something cosmic with that cat?"</p> - -<p>"I just want to find it," Phil said honestly.</p> - -<p>"That settles it for me. It's your cat and you got a right to know -where it is, even if you get killed trying to get it and I get into -all sorts of mucking trouble for telling you. You want I should tell -you in private, Phil, or just say it right out in front of all these -screwballs?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Juno," Phil said quietly. "Just say it right out."</p> - -<p>Juno opened her mouth—and then said, "Oh, Lord."</p> - -<p>Phil turned around. Jack and Cookie were just coming in from the hall.</p> - -<p>"Fine sort of wife you turned out to be," Jack informed Juno, striding -toward her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Can't leave -you ten minutes but you start pulling some dumb trick." With circles -under his eyes and a day's growth of beard, the black-sweatered little -wrestler did a fair job of looking outraged and dejected. But Cookie, -automatically imitating his hero, could produce only an expression like -that of a blonde baby about to cry.</p> - -<p>"Getting sneaky, too," Jack observed. "Spying on me."</p> - -<p>"Underhanded," Cookie commented.</p> - -<p>"Underhanded?" Juno banged the silver inlaid table so hard that it -jumped and she had to grab at her glass and the bottle. "Why, you two -stinkers are so permanently underhanded you couldn't play no game but -softball."</p> - -<p>"Also, I don't like the company you keep," Jack continued. "The Ikeless -Joe was bad enough," he said, giving Phil the barest glance before -going on to da Silva, "but where between here and Pluto did you ever -pick up this silly greaser who can't even talk English?"</p> - -<p>"This corny gigolo," Cookie added witheringly.</p> - -<p>Dion, who until this moment had seemed merely interested, put down his -glass and frowned at Jack. "No like you," he asserted. "You want kick -in face, trample?"</p> - -<p>Phil winced, visualizing it in the full, rich details.</p> - -<p>"Do you know who you're talking to?" Cookie demanded of Dion.</p> - -<p>"Don't brawl, boys," Mary called from the alcove, "at least until I've -finished this ticklish part." She was putting some finishing touches -on Moe Brimstine's face under the magnifier. "Then I think I'd like to -watch you tramp around, Dion man."</p> - -<p>"Don't anybody worry," Jack said sadly. "I'm not looking for a fight -even if I was handed one. I'm too downhearted about this innocent, -thoughtless, uneducated wife of mine."</p> - -<p>"Uneducated?" she exploded. "After being married to you all these -years? You got so many rotten ideas you're a whole university. Well, -I've graduated. And shut up, now, 'cause I got to tell Phil here where -he can find Moe Brimstine and maybe Billig and his cat."</p> - -<p>Jack whirled toward her. "Juno, you don't know what you're saying. You -don't know what you'd be doing. Just come upstairs a minute and I'll -explain the whole deal."</p> - -<p>"Come upstairs!" Juno mocked. "Tell that to the green farm girls trying -to break into the wrestling racket. Now look here, Phil. Brimstine...."</p> - -<p>"Juno!" Jack yelled, "I didn't want to tell you in front of everybody, -but there's a million dollars riding on this deal for me and you, if -Billig pulls out of his trouble. Which he can do, so long as he has the -green cat to trade to the government. And look, Juno, Billig's lost -all his bodyguards and power and everything—he's got to depend on -Brimstine and me and Cookie."</p> - -<p>Juno stared at him. For a second or two there was silence. Then -Sacheverell coughed delicately.</p> - -<p>"Jack," he said unhurriedly, "I am convinced that you have a deep -appreciation of spiritual values. Your aura may flicker and dim, but in -the end it always glows out bright and clear. Yesterday you gave up ten -thousand dollars Moe Brimstine would have given you for the Green One, -just in order that we might worship him properly and help him change -the world. Now if you were willing to do that...."</p> - -<p>"I know, I know," Jack snarled at him impatiently, "but this time it's -really big money."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell looked up at the ceiling, as if he were silently telling -some god just how evil a world it was.</p> - -<p>"I was flattered by you and Mary for a while," Jack went on. "I liked -your style and I fell for some of your wild ideas. I played along with -you to the tune of ten thousand dollars, though I won't say I wasn't -going to steal the green cat back and sell it to Brimstine after you'd -had your fun with it. But tuck your aura up over your ears and get this -through your head: this time it's really big money."</p> - -<p>Sacheverell said, "Mary, remind me to burn our black sweaters tomorrow -morning."</p> - -<p>From the look on Juno's face, Phil could tell that Jack had finally -done something to please her.</p> - -<p>But he had done it rather too late. The satisfaction washed out of -Juno's face and only the grimness was left as she said to him, "That -million was just for you, Jack, or for you and Cookie until half a -minute ago. Another thing, Billig isn't going to pull out of this—and -if he did he's the kind of man who kills the people who save him. But -even if you got your million, I wouldn't take any part of it. Don't -get the idea that anybody, including that crazy green cat, has made -me go soft. It's just that I wouldn't ever accept anything from you, -Jack—not ever again." Without a pause she turned to Phil and said, -"Brimstine's behind the counter in the Bug-Eyed Bar in All Pleasures -Amusement Park. I'll take you to the exact spot."</p> - -<p>At that moment, when everyone was watching Juno, a cool, scornful voice -spoke from the dining room: "And we'll be coming along."</p> - -<p>Phil's head followed the others around. Standing in front of Lucky's -altar, his bulging forehead wrinkled with unsmiling amusement, was -Carstairs. To his left stood Llewellyn, eyes gleaming in his impassive -black face. To Carstairs' right lounged Buck, yawning but watchful. -Phil got the feeling that the hep-thugs were trying to look like the -muzzles of the weapons they held with casual proficiency. Close beside -Buck and a little behind him stood Mitzie Romadka.</p> - -<p>Carstairs said, "We've been finding out some things about this green -cat ourselves." He could talk very softly because there wasn't any -noise in the room. "We think it would be a lot more desirable if we -were the ones who sold the cat to Uncle Sammy. You people are going to -help us get the cat. Incidentally, clown," he addressed Phil, "your -little girl friend here was responsible for our locating you people. -Isn't that so, Mitz?"</p> - -<p>But Mitzie said nothing. To Phil, she looked remarkably pale, -tight-lipped and miserable for a girl enjoying a revenge.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Carstairs continued, "she came whimpering to us a little while -ago, asking us to kidnap you or something silly like that. Can you -imagine, clown, your girl friend was stupid enough to think we'd be -pleased at her and even do something for her, after we'd kicked her -out of the gang and she'd skunked on us to Billig? Youthful illusions -die hard. Well, instead of that she did something for us. After a -little persuasion she told us all she knows about the green cat and you -people, also some addresses—including this one."</p> - -<p>And now Phil saw that Mitzie was looking at him agitatedly and trying -to speak, but couldn't get her mouth open. He realized her mouth must -be taped shut with some transparent, non-reflecting material. Buck -noticed and twisted her wrist while thoughtfully watching her face.</p> - -<p>Carstairs concluded, "There's not much more to say. You and you and -you"—and he stabbed a gun muzzle at Jack, Cookie and Sacheverell—"are -staying here with my friend Llewellyn. Dear little Mitz will stay here -too—that's partly in case you get any funny ideas, clown. The rest of -you are coming along with Buck and me on a thrill-packed trip to All -Pleasures. According to what Mitz tells us, you all may have useful -angles on catching this cat for us. Transportation's out in front."</p> - -<p>Juno got up with a sullen shrug. Dion for once was very quiet. Phil -found himself wondering whether or not Opperly and Dytie had avoided -the hep-thugs.</p> - -<p>Mary Akeley took the dolls depicting Moe Brimstine and Dr. Romadka, put -them in a big handbag, caught up a bolero jacket, and calmly announced, -"Well, I'm ready."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XIX</h2> - - -<p class="ph1">THIRD MILLENNIUM THRILLS!</p> - -<p class="ph1">1000 FEET OF FREE-FALL!</p> - -<p class="ph1">RECORDED KISSES AND HUGS!<br /> -Cuddle Your Favorite Star<br /> -<i>Better Than Handies</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">YOUR MIND CLEARED IN TEN MINUTES!<br /> -<i>Relive Your Childhood</i><br /> -You'll Feel Ripping as a Rocket!</p> - -<p class="ph1">TEST YOUR STRENGTH AGAINST A BEM!</p> - -<p class="ph1">KILL MARTIANS!</p> - -<p class="ph1">THROW ROCKS AT GLAMOR GIRLS!</p> - -<p class="ph1">FLUORESCENT TATTOOS!</p> - - -<p>Those were a few of the signs that flared and blared at Phil as he was -marched across the springy, rubberized, plasti-bottle strewn grounds of -All Pleasures Amusement Park.</p> - -<p>The government crack-down on Fun Incorporated had produced a few -tangible changes in Double AP, as far as Phil could judge from his last -visit. The burlesque juke boxes were padlocked, the rubberoid figures -that would shimmy orgiastically for a quarter were shrouded from view. -Dresses were perhaps an inch higher than usual on the bosoms of the -girls working in concessions. There didn't seem to be any shifty-eyed -gents recruiting special parties to meet a gambling robot or enjoy -some other form of illegal entertainment. In front of the side show -someone was painting out the sign that read, "See the Woman With Four -Mammary Glands!" Phil noticed Dion looking up at this defacement rather -wistfully.</p> - -<p>Yet there was an uneasiness in the park, and it wasn't just that the -crowd was light. Barkers called out too suddenly and stopped too -soon. Customers hesitated uncomfortably in front of concessions, then -shuffled morosely on. Over-age glamor girls ready to dodge rubber -rocks, or have their bedclothes or skirts jerked off when a spaceball -hit its planet-simulating target, were a trifle hysterical in the -challenges they shrilled at passing patrons. The cries coming faintly -from the top of the 1,000 foot drop in the Spaceship Ride weren't the -usual terrified but delighted squeals; they sounded more like wails.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the fall of Fun Incorporated had caused people who pathetically -treasured their thrills, or the money to be made from them, to wonder, -"What next?" Perhaps President Barnes' rambling apocalyptic speeches -had finally taken effect, making people ask themselves what they were -getting from the so-called pleasures of life, especially the more -highly advertised ones. Perhaps the government directive just now being -barked from the public news-speakers for the destruction of all cats -had given people a "We'd be safer at home" feeling.</p> - -<p>Or it may have been that the uneasiness at Double AP was part of a -general feeling gripping America, a feeling that had been gathering -power in the unconscious and just now burst into thought, a feeling -that something that even the government couldn't handle was stalking -invisibly, whether for good or ill, behind each man.</p> - -<p>Of course, for Phil the menacing stalkers were two very definite -figures: Carstairs and Buck, who at the moment were shepherding their -unwilling assistants through the pupil of one of several surrealistic -eyes that served as the entrances to the Bug-Eyed Bar.</p> - -<p>Tonight the gaudy tavern was emptier than the Park outside. Its -famous Ten-G Highballs and Stun-Gun Cocktails were going begging. Its -notoriously drink-hungry hostesses were conspicuous by their absence. -The only two customers were being served soda pop by the smaller of the -two bartenders, making it very simple for Juno, Phil, Mary and Dion to -climb onto pneumo-barstools in front of the other bartender. Carstairs -and Buck stood close behind them.</p> - -<p>Phil found it difficult to believe that the man in front of them was -Moe Brimstine. For one thing, his hair was red, even to the stubble -on his cheeks and chin. For another, the eyes that Moe had always -kept behind dark glasses were as small and squinting as a pig's. And -although the fugitive from the FBL must recognize several of them, he -didn't show it in any way that Phil could discern. He looked them all -over stolidly, polishing the speckless bar with the immemorial soiled -towel. For that matter, the whole bar looked much as a bar might have -looked fifty or a hundred years before; robots could not supervise -B-girls, nor had they ever been legalized as bouncers.</p> - -<p>"What's your pleasure?" the big red-head asked.</p> - -<p>Phil felt Carstairs' gun dig his ribs. He tried to wet his lips.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Brimstine, I want my green cat," he croaked.</p> - -<p>Moe Brimstine wrinkled his forehead. "That made with creme de menthe, -chartreuse, or green fire?"</p> - -<p>"I mean my live green cat," Phil told him.</p> - -<p>"We don't serve drunks here," Brimstine said evenly. "Your friend's had -one too many. What would you ladies and gentlemen care for?"</p> - -<p>Mary Akeley opened her handbag and laid the Moe Brimstine doll on the -counter before her. She looked at it thoughtfully for a moment and -with deliberate finickiness took off its tiny dark glasses. Its eyes -were piggy. She smiled. She replaced the glasses and fished out of her -handbag a hatpin, a pair of scissors, a small knife, a little pair of -pliers, a sample size flame-pack, a tiny iron with insulated handle, -and a white crusted black bottle, and lined them up in a neat row.</p> - -<p>"This isn't a powder room, lady," Brimstine said. "Order your drinks."</p> - -<p>Phil couldn't help but be impressed by the big man's composure, and -then without warning he felt a gust of terror that he knew at once -had nothing to do with guns behind him and could hardly stem from the -childish paraphernalia for black magic Mary Akeley had set out.</p> - -<p>He could tell that the gust had hit Moe Brimstine too, for the big man -dropped the towel and backed up against the shelves of bottles behind -him.</p> - -<p>Mary Akeley said, "Mr. Brimstine, you stole the Green One, whom my -husband adores as Bast. You are going to suffer until you return him." -Her voice shook a little at first, then settled down to a cold and -cruel monotone. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring my little rack and iron -maiden, but these implements are quite adequate." She ignited the -flame-pack and held the tiny iron over it.</p> - -<p>Phil heard Juno draw in her breath and Carstairs give a funny grunt -behind him. The end of the iron grew red. Mary Akeley turned the doll -over on its face and touched it lightly with the iron. Its pants smoked.</p> - -<p>Moe Brimstine gasped loudly and clapped his hand behind him. Then he -grabbed tremblingly at the doll, but Mary Akeley closed her hand around -its two arms and its middle. Instantly Brimstine's arms clamped down -against his sides and stayed there. Mary stood the doll up. Brimstine -straightened. She moved it away from her a few inches. Brimstine backed -up into the shelves. Sweat beaded his forehead. Mary unexpectedly -flicked the doll on the cheek with the hot iron. Moe Brimstine gasped -again in pain and jerked his head back.</p> - -<p>"This sort of thing is going to go on until you give us the Green One," -the young witch said matter-of-factly. Phil saw that a red spot had -appeared on Moe Brimstine's ashen cheek.</p> - -<p>"Only it's going to get much worse fast," she amplified, reaching for -the white crusted bottle. Moe Brimstine started to say something, but -she clamped the thumb of the hand holding the doll over its little -mouth.</p> - -<p>"After a while I'll be much more apt to trust the things you say," she -explained. Moe Brimstine's face grew red and his eyes bulged.</p> - -<p>Then a shadow came strolling softly along the top of the bar. Turning -fearfully as he shrank away from it, Phil saw that it was green -and silken and had a wise and winsome face. In a split second of -realization Phil knew that it was Lucky who had breathed supernatural -terror at them, just as he had at the Humberford Foundation; Lucky -who had opened Moe Brimstine's mind and built a bridge between it and -Mary's, so that suggestion had made him experience everything happening -to the doll.</p> - -<p>And then Phil realized that no further unpleasant things were going -to happen to Moe Brimstine and that no one was going to cause any -trouble, even Carstairs or Buck, for suddenly all terror vanished and -friendliness and invincible good will began to pour out of Lucky like -Scotch from a bottle. Phil could feel it enter and fill all the others. -There were little sighs and chuckles. Mary Akeley's lean finger shrank -from the white crusted bottle, then hurriedly swept all the implements -off the bar into her bag.</p> - -<p>Lucky stood in front of Phil and stretched, slowly and luxuriantly -working the muscles of his neck and back. Moe Brimstine beamed at the -green cat, and the happy creases around his little eyes suggested those -of Santa Claus. With an "If you don't mind?" to Phil, he reached out -his big hand and softly and wonderingly stroked the silky fur.</p> - -<p>"You sure rescued Uncle Moe in the nick," he told Lucky, scratching -behind his ears. "I'm sincerely sorry for the things I did to you. -I don't understand them now, and I'm sure glad you got yourself -unstunned, though I don't understand how you did."</p> - -<p>Then he straightened up and boomed out, "What'll it be, friends? The -drinks are on the house!" And they were, too—several quick, happy -rounds of them. Even Lucky got a cocktail compounded of milk, egg -white, powdered sugar and gin. On Phil's advice Moe put it behind the -bar so Lucky could consume it in private.</p> - -<p>Buck let out an adolescent guffaw and handed two guns, butt-first, to -Brimstine.</p> - -<p>"Reckon I better check my shootin' arns, podner," he explained, -adapting his hillbilly accent to cowboy lingo. Moe accepted them, -tested one by shooting out a light in the ceiling, and put them away. -Likewise Carstairs gave up his weapons, with the added injunction that -Moe was to sell them and use the money to buy more liquor when the bar -gave out.</p> - -<p>Juno, with a smacking big whiskey in front of her, leaned across Phil -and assured Mary, "From now on, I'll believe every word nuts tell me, -especially you and Sash."</p> - -<p>"And I'll always tell you when we're lying," Mary assured her back, -rather mumblingly, since Dion was nuzzling her.</p> - -<p>As customers drifted into the bar by ones and twos, Brimstine called -them to join the party. As soon as they did, they became as friendly -and glowing as anyone else. After a time there was a small crowd and -Moe did nothing but pour, shake and serve. Shortly he quit the shaking -part.</p> - -<p>Mary broke away from Dion and picked up the Brimstine doll and hugged -and kissed it, saying, "You dear, dear man." Moe paused for a moment in -his bartending to shut his eyes and quake ecstatically.</p> - -<p>Then Lucky came out from under the bar and jumped on it and walked up -and down in a very lordly way but with a definite lurch. After a bit -he jumped down in front of the bar and the crowd parted for him. The -drunken green creature zigzagged with dignity toward an exit.</p> - -<p>Moe heaved himself over the bar, spilling several drinks, and called -out, "Come on, everyone, let's have fun! Everything at Double AP is -free!"</p> - -<p>And so a bacchanalian procession began to weave through All Pleasures -Amusement Park, with Moe serving as Bacchus, Lucky as a leopard, and, -thought Phil, if the others only knew about Dion.</p> - -<p>There were nymphs a-plenty, as Moe invited each girl to leave her -concession after everybody that wanted had a turn and Moe had explained -how the games were gimmicked and all the prizes had been distributed or -at least offered.</p> - -<p>Once or twice concession owners bleated indignantly at Moe's rallying -cry, "It's all free, folks!" But their objections always dissolved at -Lucky's arrival.</p> - -<p>The procession grew steadily larger. Occasionally groups would leave it -to go on free rides, but there weren't as many of these groups as might -have been expected and they always seemed to be happy to get back.</p> - -<p>Moe was enjoying himself with godlike capacity. He skipped like a lamb -on the rubberized surfacing. He had a word and a joke for everyone and -could always think of a new stunt to cap his last. Perhaps he reached -his high point when he loosed a tiger and two black panthers from the -animal show. Arousing no fear, they wove in and out of the procession -happily, accepting caresses from everyone but apparently getting the -most pleasure out of lowering their necks to rub Lucky's.</p> - -<p>Phil was enjoying himself thoroughly, especially while romping hand -in hand with a cute red-head from the "Visit Vicious Venus" show, but -every now and then the thought of neglected dangers and duties returned -to nag him. On one of these occasions, Juno threw a big arm around his -neck, almost knocking his head off, and said, "Got troubles, Phil? Give -'em to Mama Juno and she'll throw 'em away. Oh boy, do I love that -green monkey! He's got the best little formula for living there is. -Hey, looka that!"</p> - -<p>She was pointing at Carstairs and Buck, who had discovered a concession -titled in flaming red phospho-flare KICK THE LOVELY LADY INTO YOUR -ARMS and were happily struggling for the possession of a very large -mallet which apparently had something to do with the game. After some -puzzling, Phil understood. The game was the age old one of striking a -target on the ground which caused an indicator to jump up a pole—with -the typical late twentieth-century addition that, if the indicator -reached the top of the pole, not only did a bell ring and lights flare, -but a huge hinged lower leg with a cushioned boot swung down and rudely -lifted a lovely lady off a perch some three feet above the winner and -into his arms, if he were ready to catch her.</p> - -<p>This last couldn't have been any too sure, since the lovely lady was -one of the glamor girls pushing fifty rather than forty. At present she -was glowering cynically at Carstairs and Buck, as if certain they were -infinitely more interested in the mallet than in her. She wasn't yet -under Lucky's influence, as the green cat had momentarily romped off -with the black panthers to the tail end of the procession.</p> - -<p>The two happy hep-jerks got things settled between them and took many -mighty thumps at the target. The indicator jumped high but always -hesitated just heartbreakingly short of the top. The onlookers sighed -sympathetically. By this time most of the bacchanalian procession had -gathered around the "kick the lady" concession. It was strategically -located between two bars and opposite the "Mind Clearers," as they -chastely labeled themselves in blinking red fluorescents, and a dismal -cavern mouth called "Pluto's Palace," beside which was an inaccurate -model of the solar system with the planets revolving jerkily.</p> - -<p>Moe Brimstine was refreshing himself with a pitcher of beer his -attendant nymphs had rushed him from one of the bars. Two black shapes -came undulating in from the outskirts in pursuit of a green flash, as -Lucky returned to his proper position, bringing the other felines with -him.</p> - -<p>Then, as Carstairs started to toss aside the mallet with an amiable -grin of defeat, Dion da Silva came charging up and grabbed it. He -stripped off his jacket and shirt, revealing an extremely hairy chest -and back.</p> - -<p>"That Dion man is sure male looking," Mary murmured to Phil -appreciatively, eying her hero. "With those cute ears, he's just like a -little old satyr."</p> - -<p>Dion flexed his impressive muscles, took up the mallet, and crashed it -down with a force which the spectators felt with their back teeth. The -bell clanged, the light flashed and the big foot started its descent.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Dora Pannes pushed out of the crowd from the -direction of Pluto's Palace and walked haughtily past Dion with never -a glance at him or anyone else. She was moving toward Lucky with the -single-purposeness of a sleep walker.</p> - -<p>Disregarding the kicked lovely lady, Dion sprang upon Dora Pannes, -crushed her to his hairy chest, and started suffocating her with -kisses. Phil gallantly stepped forward and caught the lovely lady. His -knees sagged. She was now within range of Lucky's influence and pursed -her lips invitingly at Phil, but he quickly set her down, aghast at -something else.</p> - -<p>With a sudden howl of furious anger, Dion had pushed Dora Pannes away -from him, so that she fell down heavily. Before anyone could stop him, -Dion snatched up the mallet and brought it down with a titanic crash on -the head of the gorgeous violet blonde.</p> - -<p>"I in love with thing like that!" he screamed. "Aah!" And he continued -to batter the beautiful head and body so that it bounced up and down on -the rubber.</p> - -<p>Phil was doubly shocked because this was occurring in Lucky's presence. -In fact, the green cat, sitting calmly in front of Phil, seemed to be -looking on with approval.</p> - -<p>Dora Pannes began to writhe crippledly and lasciviously between blows -and to sing "Slap Me Silly Honey" in a hideously gay voice. Then her -head, flattened by repeated blows, split open. But instead of brains -there spilled out fragments of glass, plastic and metal, some of them -with wires attached. Her voice rose in a final meaningless duck quack -and she stopped moving.</p> - -<p>A number of realizations fitted themselves together in Phil's mind -at this proof that Dora Pannes was not a human being, but the most -advanced of mannequins created by Fun Incorporated's technicians, a -robot operating by scanners and instruction tapes. Why, even her name -was a pun from Greek mythology, a rough anagram of Pandora, the metal -maiden constructed, if Phil remembered Dr. Romadka correctly, at the -command of Zeus.</p> - -<p>As Dion finally put down the mallet, a girl in slacks broke out of -the crowd and grabbed Phil's arm. It was Mitzie Romadka, panting and -disheveled. Behind her darted Sacheverell Akeley.</p> - -<p>"Jack and Cookie managed to slug Llewellyn," she panted, "and tried -to do the same to us. We got away from them, but they've gone to warn -Billig."</p> - -<p>Looking around quickly, Phil realized that they had. Standing in the -gloomy entrance to Pluto's Palace was Mr. Billig, flanked by a half -dozen gleaming sales-robots. Only these sales-robots had gun muzzles -jutting from their gleaming turrets. Billig had a box slung to his -chest.</p> - -<p>"Any funny business from anyone and they mow down the crowd," he -called, his fingers poised over the box. "Dora, stun that cat and bring -it here."</p> - -<p>The crowd sucked back to either side and showed Billig the wreckage of -Dora Pannes, with Lucky sitting serenely beside it. Phil could see the -horror come into Billig's face as he sensed the golden wave of peace -coming from Lucky. Billig jerked up the ortho and fired.</p> - -<p>The blue beam splattered molten rubber a dozen feet from Lucky and did -no other damage before it winked out. But as the dazzle died, Phil saw -that the beam's back fire had found a target. Billig pitched forward -with a large hole in his head.</p> - -<p>Then, as if Billig's fall had been a cue, a small, fattish man stepped -out through the curtains of the Mind Clearers. Although he was wearing -some sort of partial gas mask, Phil recognized Dr. Romadka. He pointed -a stun-gun, Lucky collapsed and was still, and the night's eerie peace -shifted in a finger snap to a churning terror which seemed to Phil to -take the form of a palpable vibration, a wailing roar.</p> - -<p>Romadka darted forward toward Lucky. Beside Phil, Mary Akeley jerked -something from the pocketbook and waved it in the air. "Anton!" she -screamed menacingly, and when the psychiatrist looked her way, she -swung the doll of him sharply against her foot, so that its head -snapped against her heel.</p> - -<p>For a moment Phil believed she was a genuine witch, for Romadka pitched -forward on his face.</p> - -<p>But then he saw that the wailing roar had been that of a dozen squad -cars, converging on the spot from all directions and rocket braking -so close to the crowd that there were singed legs and screams. Men -uniformed and in plain clothes piled out and barked and pommeled the -crowd into a semblance of control. The man who'd jumped from the -foremost car lowered the stun-gun with which he'd knocked out Romadka. -It was Dave Greeley.</p> - -<p>For a moment Phil wondered bleakly whether Billig mightn't have made -arrangements with the government for a deal involving the cat, naming -this place as a rendezvous. Then out from behind the FBL man stepped -Morton Opperly, peering about with great interest, and Phil decided -that this was a world in which you couldn't even trust noble looking -old scientists pretending to be great liberals and babbling government -top secrets in order to win your confidence.</p> - -<p>He held out his wrists for the handcuffs.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>XX</h2> - - -<p>A half hour after the big rubber hands of the telemanipulator yanked -Phil out of his cubicle in the black maria, he had been exposed to -so many sets of security checks that he guessed there were only two -places in America he could be headed for: the Heptagon or White House, -Junior, in New Washington.</p> - -<p>Moved along by telemanipulators which did not seem to care which -side up they carried people, he had been prodded, thumped, scanned, -sampled, and subjected to other indignities. His footprints, retinal -blood vessel layout and other physical patterns and dimensions had been -taken, presumably for checking against his FBL dossier; likewise his -voice pattern and hand writing. He had been X-rayed and magnetically -tested for bombs that might be surgeried inside him. His breath and -blood had been checked for BW germs and viruses. He had been thoroughly -geigered. Lights had been flashed in his eyes, questions had droned in -his ears. Once or twice he thought he'd been put to sleep. All through -the process he'd felt a miserable and futile indignation.</p> - -<p>But now, as a final rubber hand sliding in a slot in the wall hurried -him down a corridor and deposited him at the entrance to a large room, -he suddenly realized that he didn't care any more. In fact, he began to -feel calm.</p> - -<p>And then he was being conducted to a seat by a human usher at last. He -looked around. Almost everyone he'd been mixed up with in the past few -days was here: Jack and Juno Jones, looking quite awestruck, along with -Cookie; Moe Brimstine with his incongruous red hair; Mitzie Romadka and -her father, pale and woozy; Sacheverell and Mary Akeley; Dr. Garnett -and Chancellor Frobisher from the Humberford Foundation; Dion and Dytie -da Silva, the latter with a cloak huddled around her; even Carstairs, -Llewellyn and Buck. Along with them were quantities of unfamiliar -faces—FBL people, Phil supposed. Others, presumably guards, lined the -walls.</p> - -<p>Most of these individuals were watching three men who were seated -like judges behind a large desk across the room: Dr. Morton Opperly, -President Robert T. Barnes, and a stony faced man whom Phil recognized -as John Emmet, head of the FBL.</p> - -<p>Emmet looked as thin as Opperly, but infinitely tougher. Like Opperly's -his face showed an intense and ceaseless curiosity, but a curiosity -that never became carefree, as if each new fact was for him a new -responsibility.</p> - -<p>At the moment, Emmet was speaking to Dave Greeley, who was supervising -two white-smocked technicians as they telemanipulated Lucky, who was -limp as a dish cloth, into a low walled box set between banks of -electronic tubes and transistors. Apparently Greeley had voiced a doubt -as to the safety of the set up, for Emmet was telling Greeley that the -research division guaranteed that the low intensity stunfield in which -Lucky had now been placed would keep the green cat harmless.</p> - -<p>But Phil heard only the tail end of the conversation as he was being -seated between Dr. Garnett and Sacheverell. The next moment the room -got very quiet. Emmet looked them all over.</p> - -<p>Finally Emmet said, "I think you all know why you're here. I want the -fullest cooperation from everyone. Within the walls of security now -surrounding us, complete frankness is possible. I, myself, shall be as -frank as I expect you to be."</p> - -<p>Emmet paused, then leaned forward a little. "To begin with, the -creature known as the green cat is real. Its powers of influencing -thought and emotion are also real. It truly intends the conquest of -America and of the entire world. Finally, it is neither mutant nor -mechanism, but an invader from the planetary system of another star. -Dr. Opperly, will you kindly outline the information you have obtained -from the being masquerading as Miss Aphrodite da Silva?"</p> - -<p>Dr. Opperly's voice was faint but very clear.</p> - -<p>"The eighth planet of the Star Vega—that is, if Miss da Silva and -I have got our indentifications straight—is earth-type though of -somewhat greater mass. Its landscape, Miss da Silva tells me, can be -pictured as endless, hard baked plains dotted with small lakes and -marshes, and groves of tall trees. On this planet, intelligence evolved -in a swift hoofed biped leaf eater, whose forelegs became specialized -as organs for manipulating branches and for brief food seeking climbs. -This specialization occurred when the creature was a primitive equine, -so that while its hind legs were developing very horselike hoofs, its -forelegs were becoming startlingly humanoid hands. The result was a -being remarkably similar to the satyrs and fauns of Greek mythology. -Miss da Silva, would you care to give these people an idea?"</p> - -<p>Dytie stood up, whipped off her cloak, and stood facing them in hirsute -nudity. For a moment there was no reaction, then she stamped her hoofs -twice and her figure became real. She wrapped the cloak around her and -sat down.</p> - -<p>"Miss da Silva tells me that clothing is not customary on Vega -Eight," Opperly observed. "They have also advanced farther than we in -technology, possessing force fields that divert gravity, also direct -atomic drive spaceships capable of approaching the speed of light. -But perhaps the most remarkable fact about this satyr race is that -they are symbiotes, and that their symbiotic partners are a sort of -creature that never evolved on Earth and that has a way of life with -which we are quite unfamiliar. For the moment I will say nothing about -these symbiotic partners, except that they have no technology, did not -originate on Vega Eight, and that they are not very intelligent, but -are responsible for the Vegan invasion of Earth."</p> - -<p>Opperly ignored the murmurs greeting these paradoxical statements. -"Under the urging of their symbiotic partners, the satyrs—if I may -use that term—sent a spaceship to Earth. I gather that the 26 light -years were covered in something like 35, though of course the time -was much less to the voyagers. Approaching Earth, they put their -ship into an orbit and rendered it invisible. For about two more -years they stayed in the ship, except for careful exploratory trips -in a gravity-diverting space dinghy. They monitored our radio and TV -broadcasts, learned something of our languages and customs. The satyrs -realized that it would be possible to disguise themselves as earthlings -and eagerly did so, since they knew it would be highly desirable -for them to keep in close contact with their rather scatter-brained -symbiotic partners when the invasion began.</p> - -<p>"And now," Opperly said slowly, "I come to the point where I must -describe the symbiotic partners and I'm not too sure that I can. Don't -you think, Miss da Silva—?" But Dytie shook her head emphatically. -Opperly shut his eyes for a moment, then he said, "You know how the -presence of a pet can occasionally bring harmony into a home. Or -sometimes it's a child. Well, imagine an animal that, at some nudge -in the evolutionary helter-skelter, began to specialize for this -purpose, and to evolve into a harmony bringer. Think how the cat has -established itself in our culture, largely on the basis of its charm, -and imagine how much more successful it would be if it could bring -us not only beauty but harmony and peace. Imagine such a creature -gradually evolving the power to create and spray hormones that would -dispel anger and create amity in other creatures, somewhat like the -flowers which evolved scents and odors to attract the bees. And think -of it developing, for self-defensive purposes, hormones to create -terror. Imagine it acquiring extrasensory perception and a sensitivity -to thought waves, and discovering in this way a whole new realm of -possibilities for bringing harmony and creating peace. Imagine it -becoming what might be called an esp-catalyst, either by acting as -an esp relay station amplifying and redirecting thought waves, or by -receiving, copying and projecting clouds of punched memory molecules. -Imagine it surviving and multiplying because it is paid for the peace -and emotional rapport it brings, as the cat is paid for its beauty, in -the coin of food, fondling and protection.</p> - -<p>"Such a creature wouldn't develop general intelligence, because it -would always depend for its survival on the care of others. Yet it -would have a high intelligence in understanding and manipulating moods -and feelings in other animals. It would...."</p> - -<p>He hesitated and Dytie da Silva called to him, "... play by ear!"</p> - -<p>"Thank you," Opperly told her. "It would always be transmitter, not -originator. But although lacking general intelligence, it would always -seek out beings with the highest possible general intelligence, since -they could bring it the greatest security. It would be cunning in -all deceptions enabling it to penetrate a new culture, such as the -imitation of similar appearing animals for camouflage purposes. Like -any other species, it would strive to multiply and colonize, to fulfill -its destiny in the cosmos. By means of its extrasensory powers, it -would spy out intelligence in distant places, even distant planets, -and persuade its symbiotic partners to take it to those places and -planets."</p> - -<p>He paused. "And now I ask all of you," he said, "to try to imagine -what it would be like to be the symbiotic partners of such a harmony -bringing creature, to have a telepathy of feelings and perhaps of -thoughts with those around you, to have a constant guard against those -moments of blind rage and icy selfishness that lead to murder and to -war, to be always reasonably in tune—and yet not deprived of any of -your basic faculties and insights and powers?"</p> - -<p>Again he paused, then said softly, "But I don't have to ask you, for -you're in that state of being right now. You're symbiotes of the green -cat—or rather, I should say, one of the green cats."</p> - -<p>As he said that, a head rather more golden yellow than Lucky's poked -itself up from Emmet's lap and looked at them all. And Phil realized -that the feeling that had possessed him ever since he had come into -this room was the radiance of one of Lucky's cousins. And then he felt -Lucky's radiance added to it, and looking around toward the electronic -contraption, he saw Lucky lifting his head over the edge.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, John Emmet was saying, "I told you that the green cat—or -rather, cats—intended the conquest of America. I wanted you to hear a -little more of the background before adding that, as far as the Federal -Bureau of Loyalty and the Office of the President are concerned, the -conquest has been completed." And John Emmet smiled.</p> - -<p>"Also," he added, "judging from the messages we've just received from -their newsmoon, along with some extraordinary tokens of faith, the -Kremlin has also capitulated to the Vegan invasion."</p> - -<p>"Is good!" Dytie shouted, jumping up. "You know just four satyrs, ten -pussycats come in ship. We send seven pussycats, two satyrs behind -ferrous veil—mean iron curtain. We think they need pussycats just a -little bit more you do."</p> - -<p>And with that the whole solemn meeting melted into a tumbling flood -of questions and answers, shouted insights, babbling conversation. -Catching a bit here and there, Phil learned how the second and -yellower green cat, out of touch with Dion and Dytie for a week, had -unexpectedly returned to its Vegan mistress after visiting a large -number of most ecstatic church services, and how Opperly had smuggled -that cat in to Barnes and so to Emmet. He heard Dytie explain how -the cats were tricky at feigning unconsciousness after recovering, -from being stunned, and why they insisted on eating in private on -Earth—they were imitating ordinary cats and knew that their hormone -spraying mouths, necessarily extended in eating, would give them away. -He heard Dion try to picture to Dr. Garnett how the cats on Vega Eight -had taken to pointing their muzzles toward the star that was the Sun -and wailing at it at night, and Dr. Garnett proudly suggested that they -must have been esping the brain waves beamed out by the Humberford -Foundation. Whereupon Dion tried to explain how Vega Eight had once -been a war-torn planet, until a race of what sounded like intelligent -space traveling worms had brought them the green cats.</p> - -<p>But while Phil was drinking in all this information and exchanging -words with this person and that, he was moving through the churning -crowd in a very definite direction and with a very definite purpose. -Yet during his progress he continued to overhear scraps of discourse.</p> - -<p>He heard Sacheverell Akeley explaining to Chancellor Frobisher that -the green cats were probably all offspring of Bast anyway and that the -ancient Egyptians—or perhaps Atlanteans—probably had had spaceships -and had taken the green cats to Vega in the first place.</p> - -<p>He heard Cookie gently twitting Mary Akeley about falling for a satyr -and she happily assuring him that she went for men with hoofs, and in -any case was going to make a doll of him.</p> - -<p>He heard Jack pointing out to Dr. Romadka that now that they had the -green cats, there wasn't going to be too much use for psychoanalysts -or for thought police and commissars, and Romadka was reminding him -that most of the commodities peddled by Fun Incorporated, including -male-female wrestling, wouldn't have much of a market either.</p> - -<p>He heard Carstairs, Llewellyn and Buck talking about organizing a -chivalric order that was to be called the Knights of the Green Cat.</p> - -<p>He heard Juno Jones telling Moe Brimstine how ever since her farm -childhood she'd always liked animals better than humans and was very -glad that an animal was going to help her change her mind—and where -was that little rat Jack? Moe Brimstine explained to her in reply that -he'd spent so much time getting the jump on people that he'd never -learned to understand them—while poor old Hans Billig had jumped -around so fast he'd never noticed people at all.</p> - -<p>He heard John Emmet and Dave Greeley talking green cat logistics—how -would they ever manage to blanket the whole world with the creatures?</p> - -<p>He heard Morton Opperly and Dr. Garnett talking something way over his -head about esp-nexuses and thought lines and which galaxy did the cats -come from in the first place?</p> - -<p>He took Mitzie Romadka's slim tired hand and assured her that he -loved her and that he thought that violence and jealousy and even -revengefulness were admirable up to a point.</p> - -<p>But he never lost sight of his chief purpose. As he approached the low -walled box from which Lucky was still peering calmly, President Barnes -left off assuring Mary Akeley that the directive for the destruction of -all cats had already been cancelled, and came over to Phil and threw -his arm around his shoulders in a fatherly way and said, "Hi, young -fellow, I hear how you were pretty close to this cat for a couple of -days. Sorry I'm going to have to be taking him off your hands."</p> - -<p>Phil straightened up. "You're not," he said, "Lucky is my cat."</p> - -<p>"Well, see here, young fellow," Barnes protested amiably, "I'm the -president, so I have to have one of these cats. Emmet has one already -and the Humberford Foundation really needs one, and there are only -three in the country. You heard the young lady from Vega say it."</p> - -<p>Several people and the two satyrs wandered up, attracted by the -argument.</p> - -<p>"I don't care," Phil said, greatly encouraged by the tightness with -which Mitzie's hand gripped his. "I know that this is a cosmic crisis -and all that, but this is my cat and I fed it and I'm going to keep it. -C'mere, Lucky."</p> - -<p>Lucky jumped out of the box into his arms.</p> - -<p>"I guess that proves it," Phil said.</p> - -<p>Barnes looked at him just a bit indignantly and there were all sorts -of murmured comments, but just then they heard a tiny and varied -mewing. It came from the box from which Lucky had sprung.</p> - -<p>They looked in and saw five tiny duplicates of Lucky nosing their -little conical faces upward.</p> - -<p>Dytie said, "They small, but they just much good big pussycat, just -much helpful."</p> - -<p>Barnes said, spreading himself around, "Why, now there'll be one for -the Army, the Navy, Dr. Opperly, myself, that goon back east who thinks -he's going to be the next president...."</p> - -<p>"Now Bobbie," Opperly suggested, "don't go giving away more kittens -than you've got."</p> - -<p>"... and, I was about to say," Barnes finished calmly, "one for this -young fellow here."</p> - -<p>Phil looked down at Lucky cradled in his arms. "So you're a she after -all," he said.</p> - -<p>"Oh no!" Dytie burst out excitedly, half out of her cloak and half -in it. "You no un'erstand Vega. On Vega sex different. On Vega it's -like ..." and she screwed up her face, seeking for the word.</p> - -<p>"Kangaroos," Opperly interposed.</p> - -<p>"Yes!" Dytie exclaimed triumphantly. "Only this difference: wife carry -babies while, then babies go in father's pouch, he carry rest time. -Everybody help. Later on, babies leave pouch, nurse from mother. Take -off pants, Dion, show pouch."</p> - -<p>But Dion refused rather indignantly.</p> - -<p>"Vega men much modest," Dytie observed to Phil. "Anyway, Lucky is he."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>FRITZ LEIBER</h2> - -<p class="ph1">has the following books in Ace editions:</p> - - -<p class="ph1">"Hugo" winning best-of-the-year novel:<br /> -THE BIG TIME (G-627)</p> - - -<p class="ph1">Short story collection:<br /> -SHIPS TO THE STARS (F-285)</p> - - -<p class="ph1">"Sword and sorcery" novels of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser:<br /> -THE SWORDS OF LANKHMAR (H-38)<br /> -SWORDS AGAINST WIZARDRY (H-73)<br /> -SWORDS IN THE MIST (H-90)</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREEN MILLENNIUM ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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