The floor suddenly frightened him. It seemed to be a thick mist, not a rug, and he was standing ankle-deep in it. But he was reassured to find it seemed to be holding him up.
The furniture, delicate and curved, bureaus and chairs and tables, didn't seem to have any legs; they were just motionlessly floating in place.
The lost feeling he had experienced at his first glimpse of this place-like nothing he had ever heard of or imagined on Earth-was leaving him. The determination to be successful in his visit gripped him again. Where was Teenie?
Then he again felt all unstabilized. Neither he nor the guard were walking, they seemed to have just been standing. But they were moving! Very slowly and gently this floor, without even so much as a ripple, was carrying them down one wall. What he had thought must be some kind of huge bureau was actually the top of a bed!
Madison stared.
It was a dark area of the room. Moans of pleasure were coming from it.
The moving floor made further progress.
Teenie's hand was visible in a patch of light. It rose up and quivered as she groaned.
The music moaned; the perfume drifted.
The guard gave the chain a slight rattle to attract attention.
The heads of the two maids snapped up with a jerk. They saw who it was and glared at Madison resentfully.
Teenie turned her head slowly and her sex-glazed eyes gradually focused on Madison. Then she closed her too-big mouth and smiled a slow smile.
In a lazy voice, in English she said, "You waited so long, I was finally certain you weren't coming so I let them go ahead-they wring their hands so when they see me all worked up by dancing and unsatisfied." She was coming back to herself now and the musing quality was leaving her voice. The lazy smile turned into a grin. "Well, well, Maddie. You finally decided to let me have a crack at breaking you of this mother fixation." She laughed with delight.
The guard suddenly knelt, bowed his head and courteously placed the handle of the chain in her nearest out-flung hand. He said to the misty floor, "Your Majesty, here is one to do your bidding: pray thee, if he does not please thee, I shall be right outside the door with an electric whip."
Teenie glanced along her arm at it, saw the button and gripped it.
The collar almost took Madison's head off. He let out a scream! He clutched at the collar with both hands. Teenie looked at the button and looked up at him. The current was off now and Madison was moving his head about to see if it was still on. Teenie suddenly began to laugh. "Oh, Maddie, I see we're going to have fun! I don't want to hurt you. I want you to have a marvelous time. So you just be a good boy and do whatever you're told and I won't touch the button again."
Madison was not at all reassured. The bizarre room was already rippling and the tearing feeling had jarred his brain so it now seemed to be spinning. Was the moaning still the music or was it him?
Through the daze, he saw that the maids were also laughing now, but there was a note of cruelty in it that was absent from Teenie's: he was only too well aware that with this staff he was not amongst friends. And Teenie was no friend either. She had said so! He was trying to marshal his resolution. The guard, after a glare of caution at him, went to stand in the hall.
Teenie, still laughing, was giving them directions.
One maid got up, wrapping a robe about her. With a silken cloth, she began to straighten Teenie's makeup.
The other maid, a mature and good-looking woman, wiped off her own face with the hem of her scanty covering, got up and began to advance on Madison.
Although he tried to flinch away, she sprayed him with a masculine-smelling powder.
She reached for a pot of grease on a bureau.
Madison looked down at her and flinched.
The maid turned to Teenie and said, "Your Majesty, I think this nobleman must have had a dishrag in his ancestry."
This made Teenie laugh. She was lying on her side now, looking in Madison's direction. "Well, wring him out!" she cried.
Madison snatched his robe about him in panic.
The other maid looked over at him in surprise and then began to guffaw.
Madison now had his hands out, trying to keep the first maid from approaching him.
This sent Teenie into gales of laughter. She finally panted, "Oh, Maddie, you're killing me! Didn't your mother teach you anything?" And she went rolling about, screaming with mirth at her own joke.
Madison's eyes were glazed with terror. He was making a blocking motion with his hands.
Two maids' faces were laughing at him as they knelt in front of him.
Madison was backing up.
One maid had the pot of grease.
Madison was staring down at it.
The other was measuring out some hash oil.
"No, no!" shrieked Madison.
Teenie was convulsed with laughter. "Oh, Maddie," she shrieked, "you ARE a clown! This time you're going to be cured of your mother!" She sat up. "After me, you're going to get those two," and she pointed to her maids.
"NO!" screamed Madison.
One of the maids, still laughing, moved forward to grab him.
Madison backed up again. Then he saw something.
The end of the chain was no longer held by Teenie. It fell off the bed and hit the floor.
The maid had grabbed him. Madison was looking around wildly.
Teenie went into new howls of laughter.
Behind Madison was a tall bureau.
The maid was trying to kiss him.
Suddenly Madison lashed out with his fist.
He hit the maid in the jaw.
She went down with a crash.
Like an agile ape, he leaped up on the bureau, using the door handles to climb. He got to the top. He yanked the chain handle up after him to get it out of their reach. He was twelve feet above the floor. If the guard came in, he couldn't even be touched with the stinger.
The sight of him scrambling up and hanging there now had taken them all by surprise. He didn't know whether they would start to laugh again or yell for the guard to shoot him for hitting the maid.
THIS WAS HIS CHANCE!
Into the hiatus, he shouted, "Teenie! Listen to me! There's something you don't know!" Now was the time to launch his beautiful idea. Fate was trembling on the edge of the cliff. Would she listen?
Her attention was on the maid. She knelt at the woman's side to see if there was a bruise on her face. In a second, if she found a contusion or some blood, she would go berserk with fury.
"Teenie!" he screamed down at her. "Soltan Gris is here!"
Her head whipped round. She stared up at him.
"He's here!" shouted Madison in desperation. There was a little blood on the side of the woman's mouth and he MUST hold Teenie's attention.
HIS IDEA MUST BE GIVEN A CHANCE!
"He's right here on Voltar!" yelled Madison from the bureau.
Her eyes were on him. The door was also opening and the guard was alert and watching, having heard the raised voice.
"On THIS planet?" said Teenie. "Here?" She was in shock.
"Yes, that's right! Soltan Gris has taken refuge in the Royal prison, a huge castle! Nobody can get to him. He's perfectly safe! They aren't even going to try him!"
"WHAT?" cried Teenie, on her knees but straightening up.
"He's sitting there safe as can be!" cried Madison. "He's laughing at everybody! He's completely beyond reach!"
"THE (BLEEP)!" cried Teenie. Her eyes began to glare.
Madison shouted, "Unless somebody acts, he's going to go scot-free and even get a medal!"
"THE SON OF A (BLEEPCH)!" cried Teenie, leaping to her feet. "You mean after all he's done they're protecting him in safe custody?"
"Exactly!" cried Madison.
Teenie stamped her foot in fury. "Well, God (BLEEP) HIM!"
"And Teenie, if I have your help, I can get him HANGED! You know me and you know what I can accomplish if I'm turned loose! Teenie, if you back me up, the
n when they stretch his neck I can guarantee that I will personally put your hand on the rope!"
She looked at him: her eyes were furnaces of revenge. "It's a bargain!" she screeched. "Just tell me what you want me to DO!"
He had assured her he would prepare the plans. He had left her pacing up and down the room, pounding a fist in her palm and then shaking it in the air, swearing luridly in gutter English, vowing that if it was the last thing they ever did, they'd have to GET Gris!
The guard had been told to turn him loose and to admit him to the palace any time he called.
Madison, in the lower washroom, got into his clothes. He was trembling with relief.
Earlier, when he had been sitting in the hall, scanning through everything he had heard her say, a line from an Earth playwright had leaped up, and oh, was Madison glad that he remembered his Shakespeare. "Hell hath no fury like a woman kicked in the teeth." It had given him his SPLENDID idea and it had worked.
Tonight he had escaped death thrice! Once at the hands of Teenie; again from the threat of being unfaithful to his mother; the third and the far more important one of being wiped out by the deadly Bury.
With Teenie's influence, cleverly working step by step, he could now get on with his job.
Heller, he thought, here I come!
The universe will never again see such magnificent and skillful PR as would now occur!
He had to be clever, he had to be careful, he had to advance step by step. BUT HE WOULD GET THERE!
PR was the one weapon against which there was no defense. Oh, there were pitfalls on the way that would yawn. But, in gleeful confidence, Madison strode into the Voltar night.
Chapter 3
Across another night, twenty-two and more light-years away, Heller was talking on a viewer-phone in his New York office to Prahd on another one in the hospital in Afyon, Turkey. There was no problem in being overheard: the viewer-phone operated on a time-skip at the topmost quiver of energy bands and Earth was far from being up to that technology.
The subject of the conversation also involved time. "You can't rush these things," said Prahd. "I've told you all this before, sir."
"But he DID speak," said Heller. "When I entered the room at the palace, as soon as he was aware someone was there, he opened his eyes and spoke. He even recognized what I was."
"When you got to him," said Prahd, "he must have been on the tag end of an amphetamine dose. It was keeping him conscious. Some time before that, the quantities of speed he was being given must have set him up for a cerebral hemorrhage, because that's what he's got. Speed wrecks the central nervous system and he has had it."
"You mean he won't recover consciousness?" said Heller.
"Look, I'm doing all I can to hold on to this sudden elevation to King's Own Physician. I'm doing all I can to rebuild the nerves and vessels, but you don't seem to understand. It's the central nervous system! It's going to take months."
"So long?" said Heller.
"I'm being optimistic. Did you know it takes a day of therapy for every day of use anyone has been on speed? I don't know how long they had him on it. Could have been years!"
"What you're telling me is that he won't come around soon."
"I think I finally got my point across, sir. Of course, I could bring him around so he'd be alert a bit with some amphetamine, but that would then kill him."
"We don't want THAT!" said Heller. "Completely aside from our duty to protect him, it would be a rotten thing to do just to get our own heads off the block with a signed order. Skip any idea of it. We'll take our chances."
"I didn't mean it as an out," said Prahd.
"Well, don't think of it at all," said Heller. "You and I are quite expendable. He isn't. So you just go on doing what you're doing. Can you switch me over to my lady?"
The face of the Countess Krak appeared on Heller's screen. She threw him a kiss and then said, "Hello, dear. It's just like Prahd said. He's just lying there in fluid, rebuilding. There's absolutely nothing going on."
"I know," said Heller.
"I told them to build up defenses here."
Heller shrugged. "All right. But I don't think anybody will come. Ghoul-face doesn't know we came here. I've been giving this some thought and it's almost funny that he'd issue a general warrant for me: they're questionable on a Royal officer-courts usually just throw them out. It would take a Royal warrant and he just plain can't get one issued. It would have to be signed by the person who's lying there unconscious. Actually, Ghoul-face must be having fits. There was no mention of His Majesty on that broadcast and I don't think Hisst will admit he's gone. If he were to do so, the whole Confederacy would go into chaos. There is no heir: the other Royal princes are dead and Mortiiy is forbidden succession for starting a revolt. The Grand Council would have to have a body before they would proclaim Cling dead. So all Lombar can do is blunder around trying to locate me. He's only got the Apparatus, a small force. The Fleet and Army won't cooperate on the basis of just a general warrant on me. The Fleet would laugh at him. The 'drunk' is on the spot. If he doesn't dare admit I have the Emperor, then I can't think of anything he could say or do to get people incensed against me. He's only got the Apparatus and I'm not afraid of 'drunks.' So I quit worrying."
"Dear, could you be being too calm?" said the Countess.
"That's my profession," said Heller. "Keeping calm."
"I've seen you overdo it."
"What's being overdone right now," said Heller, "is our separation. It's silly you sitting there alongside a fluid tub while I'm having all the fun. I've got an AWFUL lot of things to neaten up and I can't possibly get away from here. So I had Bury contact the air force and they'll be sending a new Boeing Mach 3 Raider for you. They take off and land vertically and can put down in Afyon."
"WHO?" said the Countess Krak.
"A Boeing," said Heller. "All the airlines are messed up trying to get back into operation and their backlogs are awful. You'll be only three hours in flight. I'll have you met at La Guardia."
"I mean BURY!" said the Countess, still in shock.
"Oh, he works for us now. I forgot to mention it. But it's someone else I want you to meet. You'll like her."
"HER?"
"Yes," said Heller. "We need her permission to get engaged."
"WHAT?"
"Look, your clothes are still in the condo, so don't bring much. Now that I have verified there is no sense in your staying there, I'll tell the Boeing to take off. It'll be there about 2:00 P. M., your time. The Silver Spirit will bring you to the condo and you'll be in time to powder your nose and have a lovely lunch."
"Wait a minute, Jettero. You've got me all in a spin."
"They better not spin or we'll court-martial the whole air force. Wear your best smile. Tell you all about it when I see you. Love you. Bye-bye."
"Jettero," wailed the Countess Krak, "do you think your estimate of this situation is safe?"
But he had clicked off and the screen was dead.
Chapter 4
An amazed Countess Krak had been saluted on both sides of the world, had been set down to "all runways cleared" at La Guardia, had not even gone through immigration or customs, and had been rushed, sirens screaming, with an escort of six New York motorcycle police, straight to the condo.
She had managed to slip by the beaming Balmor and, despite the tears and sobbings of an overjoyed lady's maid, was able to change her clothes and get neatened up.
Now as she entered the luncheon salon, she was promptly all messed up again by the hugs and kisses of a smartly uniformed Jettero.
The place was crammed with flowers, the tables groaned with food and strains of triumphal music shook the chandeliers.
Izzy, Bang-Bang and Twoey were clutching at her hands, bowing and beaming in adoring welcome.
There was a one-foot stack of something on the table before her chair, and when she tried to sit down, the stack tipped over and cascaded into her lap and all over the floor. Credit cards!
Of every possible company and they all said "Heavenly Joy Krackle," and the Bonbucks Teller one was in a blue orchid corsage. She was trying to put the corsage on when Balmor and two footmen came in with an enormous gold frame.
It wasn't for her.
They put it on an easel. It was some kind of parchment apparently printed by special run. It was a banner headline of the New York Grimes and just one story. It said:
NO DECLARATION!
LEADERSHIP OF
PRESIDENT
BRINGS U. S. FROM
BRINK OF WAR!
The four men went into bellows of laughter!
For the life of her she could see nothing funny in it.
Somewhat petulantly, when she could be heard, the Countess Krak said, "You might at least tell me what you're laughing at!"
"It's for the wall of Jet's study," said Bang-Bang. "We had it specially reprinted and framed."
That told her nothing. She turned to Jettero. "And it was mean of you to leave me hanging in midair about Bury and some woman."
Jettero laughed. "Well, it got you aboard that plane, didn't it? And without a word of argument about how you should stay in Turkey."
That made her laugh. "Oh, Jettero!" she said. "Living with you has its moments! Life is certainly never dull. Now please tell me what has been going on."
They were all sitting down eating prawns now and Jettero began to tell her what had happened in New York and Pokantickle but he evidently kept leaving out pieces of it that had to do with how he had accomplished certain things and the others kept stopping him and correcting him and well before he was finished, she was scared half to death at the risks he had taken. She managed to keep herself from going white and finally said, "So Rockecenter is dead."
"No, he's not dead," said Jettero. "He's sitting right there," and he pointed to Twoey. "Between him and Izzy, they own the planet." He turned to him. "So what are you going to do with it, boys?"
Mission: Earth Villainy Victorious Page 10