'Lucky for them,' rejoined Renton.
'Well anyway, while Boz started to work here, I went off to Tumara and Deartlegaart - to see what I could find, and…'
'And me?' interrupted Renton. 'You've forgotten me. I was on this ship as well, you know. And with a specific job to do. You know, the lady with the tattooed titty. The one in the troupe…'
'Errh, errh…' moaned Boz, as he took the reins back from Mad. 'I think, my dear, I'd better explain this one myself. I think it would be better comin' from me. I mean… well, you know what I mean.'
Madeleine nodded and Boz cleared his throat.
'You see, Renton, these here goonies are a little bit strange.'
'You're telling me,' agreed Renton.
'Yeah, well strange in a way you might not have thought,' continued Boz. 'You see, I think that they's… well, I ain't sure, but I think that they's got some sort of… well, some sort o' telepathy sort o' thing.'
'Telepathy?' exclaimed Renton. 'That's impossible. It doesn't exist. You know that as well as…'
'Well, you may be right, you jus' may be right,' interrupted Boz. 'But I has to say, you may be wrong. And right now, I think you are. An' anyway, I couldn't take the chance. So I needed you here as a sort of hidden weapon. Somebody I could bring in when I needed - who didn't like know anythin' about what we were up to. An' that way the goonies wouldn't know either - if they were telepathic like I said. So you were a sort of "sleeper". You know - only you didn't know you were. You were like asleep yourself. A sort of sleepin' sleeper, if you get my drift. Oh, an' o' course, I was bettin' on me bein' imperceptable…'
'Unsusceptible,' corrected Madeleine'
'Yeah, that's right, unsusceptible - unsusceptible to this here telepathy thing, on account of me bein' a reptilian an' all and not a human-type dude. You know, that it didn't like work 'cross species an' all. So it was OK that I knew what was goin' on. But yous couldn't. You know, yous couldn't know. That's how it worked.'
Renton was trying to take all this in and at the same time trying to reconcile it all to his quest for the tall blonde. He thought he was getting there. He thought he almost had it.
'OK,' he said, 'so you somehow knew who the kidnappers were. Or at least you suspected who they were. But I had to find them myself without knowing that I was finding them… errh, if I've made myself clear.'
'Nope,' said Boz very quietly. 'I didn't know… But one thing I did know, an' that was that you had to have a purpose on this here ship. I couldn't just tell you to… well, you know, to have a sort of holiday on this darn thing. I didn't think it was quite your style… An' so well, I had to give you somethin' to do, somethin' that would make you a real sleepin' sleeper, an' somethin' that… well, that you wouldn't stand any chance of ever finishin' like. I mean, then I'd have had to come up with somethin' else. An' it would all start to get a bit messy…'
'What do you mean "something I wouldn't ever finish"? I virtually have. It's the leader of that troupe. I'm almost certain…'
Boz looked at Renton and began to shake his head.
'It is, I tell you. And anyway, this is all so stupid. I mean, this woman… I mean, she is the kidnapper, isn't she? She and her cronies. I mean…'
Boz continued to shake his head.
'But I don't understand. I thought I'd found…'
And then he stopped. Mid-sentence. He'd just understood.
'She doesn't exist, does she?' said Renton slowly. 'There isn't a woman with a toothbrush on her tit. Jesus, there never has been, has there? All these tall blondes on this ship, and not one of them has so much as a bristle… I've just been chasing shadows. That's all they've been: shadows. I can't believe it. I just cannot believe it. How could I have been such a plonker?'
'Uhh, yeah, well,' stuttered Boz, 'I sure as hell didn't like it. I mean, havin' to deceive you like this. But you see…'
'I cannot believe it. I just cannot believe it,' continued Renton. 'All that time, and all that effort, all that wasted effort…'
And then his eyes widened. Another thought had just made it to his mind.
'But wait a minute,' he said, 'how have we both ended up with these women - you know, these leather types? I don't understand. I mean, you do know, don't you, that one of them is the one I was looking for, the really tall one…?'
'Serendipity is probably the word,' said Madeleine quietly. 'Or maybe it's just you, Renton. You've just been very Renton Tenting. You've simply worked your way to the centre of the mystery without even knowing it. And I don't know anybody else who could have done that. You're just Renton Tenting unique.'
There was now a short hiatus. Renton was thinking and then he spoke.
'So these broads are the kidnappers. And I've sort of found them by mistake. Is that what you're saying?'
'Yes,' replied Madeleine. 'That's it in a nutshell.'
'Wow!' exclaimed Renton. 'That's just so bloody spooky.' And then he grinned a big grin. He was over the shock. Just like that. And it was because he'd been arrested by something else: excitement. All he wanted to do now was to join the adventure - the real adventure - the adventure his friends had revealed. 'So let's go an' get 'em.' he said. What the hell are we waiting for?'
'We're not waiting,' replied Madeleine impatiently, 'we're trying to bring you up to speed. And if you shut up, I might be able to do that. So put a sock in it.'
Renton did, although not literally.
'So as I was saying,' continued Madeleine, 'I went off to these two planets, Tumara and Deartlegaart. And it was a complete waste of time. I didn't find a thing. But meanwhile there was some action brewing up back here. Somebody had arrived and was having a go at some on-board abductions, a brute by the name of Arnal. Well, to cut a long story short, he was caught and then he was questioned. But that didn't do any good.'
'Why? asked Renton. 'Wouldn't he talk?'
'I don't think he'll ever talk again,' said Madeleine. 'He went for a holiday in his brain. And now he's so far in there he's not coming back.'
'Oo!' offered Renton.
'Oo indeed,' agreed Madeleine. 'But somebody helped him on his way. Somebody was controlling him.'
'Ah,' said Renton. 'And what you reckon is that this same person is controlling these broads. That they're just part of the picture.'
'Uhhm, very intuitive,' drawled Boz, 'Very intuitive indeed. Yous seem to be learnin'. But yous let Madeleine tell yous all the story. An' that way you'll learn a bit more.'
Renton did, and Madeleine went on.
'After Arnal left us, the kidnappings started again. But now in twos and threes. So over the last three days, ten more goonies have disappeared. And you can imagine what our clients thought of that. Let's just say we've been coming under a bit of pressure.
'However, fortunately for the partnership of Aukaukukaura, Maiden and Tenting, its founding partner is a bit of a wizzo when it comes to the art of detective deduction. And at the risk of embarrassing our great mentor and leader over there, I have to say that he came up with the goodies like a real pro.'
At this point Boz closed his eyes and his head started to shake slowly from side to side as though he was acutely embarrassed. Only two great rows of grinning teeth ruined his charming charade.
'It was simple really, but so simple only Boz would have seen it. But what he did first was to find out where all these Lagooners had been snatched from - and at what time. And then he sat down and worked out that whoever had done the snatching would have needed two things: first, something to hide them in - because there would always have been people around - so they could hardly have just dragged them round the ship. And second, the capacity to overwhelm - i.e. there had to be more than one of them, maybe as many as four or five, so that they could grab 'em and nab 'em without any fuss. These goonies may not be the strongest things on two legs, but they're not a complete push over, I can tell you. So there you had it. The kidnappers were a team and they had access to something that you could hide two or three Lagooners in, and push
around this ship without arousing anyone's interest - let alone their suspicion.'
'A troupe of broads with a costume chest…' said Renton in a sort of semi-amazed tone.
'Spot on, Mr Tenting,' responded Madeleine. 'Only Boz isn't quite that brilliant. He knew it was a costume chest but he didn't know which particular troupe it was. I mean, there are dozens on this ship - as I'm sure you've noticed. So we weren't quite there yet. We had to find out which one it was. And that's why we came here, here to this rather revolting room…
'We came here last night. You see that monitor over there? Well, it shows you what's going on in all the dressing rooms, all twenty of them. It's part of the facilities in this… errh, in this deluxe suite. It's the peeping-tom bit. The idea is you lie on the bed here and… well, it's obvious isn't it. You watch what's going on in each of the dressing rooms. And when something really juicy takes your fancy, you can go over there…' and here Madeleine pointed to a small archway to the right of the walk-in dressing room ' …and you can go and watch it for real. There's a sort of thin corridor that runs around the back of all the dressing rooms. And all the way along it there are peep-holes, twenty of them, one for each room. So you can enjoy the peeping-tom bit just like a real peeping-tom. No impersonal transmission through a screen. No, you get the genuine article - your eye next to a hole in the wall. You know, whatever turns you on…'
Renton's mouth opened in amazement. What couldn't you get on this friggin' ship?
'Anyway, as the Lagooners had assured us, it was the very best way of doing a bit of observing - and of finding out which performers had this vanishing act in their repertoire: the one where it was the goonies who were doing the vanishing. Only, of course, it didn't turn out quite the way we'd expected, did it?'
Madeleine chuckled.
'I don't know what was more surprising, seeing you there on that monitor surrounded by those four dreadful blondes, or seeing you in that awful g-string affair.'
'It's called a thong,' responded Renton indignantly. 'Or a pouch or something. Men don't wear g-strings. They haven't got the right fittings.'
Madeleine stifled a laugh.
'Oh, pardon me,' she said, 'But I'm not an expert, am I? I'm not aware of the subtle differences. Not like some people are…'
Renton harrumphed and Madeleine went on with her story.
'Anyway, we're nearly there now, nearly in real time. But first of all we have to get this Tenting chap away from his escorts. And wouldn't you know it, they'd parked themselves at the very far end of the dressing room, yards from the door. And all of them had masers as well. So we had to resort to a bit of subterfuge, a bit of play-acting. And as it turned out, that wasn't a problem. Not with all that kinky stuff in the wardrobe over there. I'd soon managed to kit myself out like one of the blondes. And Boz had his outfit already. And then it was just a matter of turning up, and we were in business. They didn't stand a chance. Pity though that it had to be such a demolition job. It would have been useful if we'd ended up with a conscious one - to talk to. But you can't have everything…'
'Well,' said Renton, 'if I didn't say it at the time, I'll say it now. Thanks very much, you two. I really appreciate it. Although I think you could have kept your knickers on, young girl. I'm not sure you had to get that authentic. There is a limit, you know.'
'Yes,' giggled Madeleine, 'and you're it. You'll never change, will you? Once an accountant, always an accountant. And we all know what they're like…'
'And you were a copper once,' interrupted Renton. 'And we all know what they're like too. So what precisely are you trying to say?'
'Knickers!' countered Madeleine. 'That's what I'm trying to say. Knickers on or knickers off, it doesn't make a difference. Because when it's down to the wire, I don't really care. And if it's a matter of saving you, you daft jerk, I'm hardly likely to be squeamish about my…'
'Childun, childun!' interjected Boz. 'How come yous two always ends up fightin' after such a short time? Hell's teeth, we've jus' had ourselves a lill' ole victory over the henemy, and weez all of us together now. An' we ain't quite at the finishing post jus' yet, but we're goin' in the right direction. An' all yous two can do is holla at each other. Whys you such stupid people?'
'It's called love,' said Madeleine sheepishly. 'Shouting at each other is what two humans who love each other tend to do - when they've been apart for some time and when they meet again. It's sort of traditional.'
Renton tried to grunt but managed only a small choking sound. What he'd heard wasn't news but it was still a surprise.
'Oh, well, that's OK then,' responded Boz. 'In that case, you two jus' get on with it. But may I make a suggestion? That you do it on the move. I mean, cos we've got to be off. We can't hang around. We've gotta go an' see ourselves some goonies right now - an' we ain't got much time.'
'Hey, but wait a minute,' said Renton urgently, 'don't you think I should tell you about these goonies first? I mean, what I've seen them do. What I've seen them do… to people… I mean, you wouldn't believe it… I mean, they're not what they appear. They're… they're… you know, they're monsters. I've seen it myself…'
'Yeah, I'm sure you have,' said Boz deliberately. 'But don't you worry. It ain't what you think. Believe me.'
And then in a far more enthusiastic tone:
'So c'mon, you two. Let's make tracks and let's make 'em now. Quicker we get this thing done, quicker we get that there fish pie. An' I haven't had a pastis for days.'
'But…' started Renton. But that's as far as he got. The senior partner had spoken, and there was no more to say. The senior partner had made that pretty clear. And as the senior partner knew what was going on and Renton was still catching up - and as the senior partner was normally right in just about everything he did - Renton decided he would hold his piece and wait for a more opportune time to discuss the surgical activities of their clients. The same clients they were now off to meet…
39.
'It's done,' announced Cristalina. 'We've got him. He's here - just beneath their command centre. And I'm sure. The fix is that perfect.'
She was pointing to a holo-image of the Lollipop. It was a skeletal image that showed the ship's innards as a framework of green and yellow lines. And towards its stern, in one of the lower levels, was a bright pinpoint of white light. It was the “Master”, the leader of the Lagooners. And Cristalina had found him. Her plan had worked. And best of all, Bessie knew it. Cristalina could see it in her eyes.
Then she heard it in her voice - in her onslaught. It contained the expected mix of vulgarity and vitriol - but it lacked real conviction. She might be burning with resentment, but the fires of resentment were clearly struggling against a gale of real anticipation. She obviously knew she was close to her goal, so close that it would soon be in her grasp. And even a megalomaniac like Bessie couldn't ignore that. Whatever her feelings might be for Cristalina, they were having to take a way-back second place - though she was trying hard to conceal it.
'Really?' she started. 'Effin' perfect is it? Effin' spot on perfect? Well, my obsequious operative, I think you may be a little premature. All I can see is a glowing bird turd in the middle of a soddin' hologram. So you won't mind if I don't join in your celebrations. Since I think there's still a pretty good chance that what you've found with your ever-so-clever-dickery might be no more than a pile of goonie poo. And there's as much chance of us tripping over the Master down there as there is of you pissing Pimms… I'm sure you get my drift.'
Cristalina remained impassive and waited for the next rebuke. It was precisely the one she'd expected.
'Well, come on then. Not another touch of the cataleptics, is it? Or have we just forgotten to shove a battery up our fanny? I mean, are we just going to stand round this stupid hologram or are we going to check on your trigs? Well? Come on. It's your little game. You call the shots!'
'No, not yet I don't,' thought Cristalina. 'But soon I will. And then we'll see who needs a powerpack up her fanny. And it won
't be me!'
But these thoughts she kept to herself. And her response to Bessie's goading was just a simple invitation.
'This way,' she said.
And with that she turned to lead her abuser to her prize, the prize she so poorly deserved.
40.
Neither of the Lagooners seemed the slightest bit interested in Renton's green clown outfit. Or in its owner. In fact, it was as though he didn't exist. Boz was the focus of their attention - and he had all of it. Renton could have been wearing a green cocktail dress and they wouldn't have noticed. And the same went for Madeleine; they ignored her as well.
'You must come with us,' the smaller one said to Boz. And he began to drag him towards an open door. They were in another of the ship's long corridors, and this door was just a few yards from where they were standing.
It was the first time Renton had ever witnessed such behaviour. There was real impatience being displayed here - and a hint of agitation - not the sort of behaviour one ever associated with these ice-cool Lagooners. And then another fifty-pointer in the I-Spy book of Lagooner behaviour: surprise, real eyes-widening, jaw-slackening surprise. And this when they realised that Renton was following them to the door.
Madeleine they clearly expected. Even though they had yet to acknowledge her existence, she was known about. She came along as a sort of appendage to Boz. But this stranger, this ghastly green apparition… well, who the hell was he? Or as the more talkative Lagooner phrased it: 'what is that?'
Renton's better nature helped him discard the thought that he was the aforementioned “that”, but instead that this was just their way of talking, just their shorthand for the unusual situation they'd encountered: their hired helpers with a previously unknown person now in their group. But even so he did resent the challenge.
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