They finished off the
dessert, standing by the cheery booth, she in her red-glitter ball-gown, he in
his somewhat wilted late mid-afternoon hemi-semi-demi formal coverall.
Somewhere a bird twittered.
"Why, a bird
twittered!" Magnan exclaimed. "Or something did. I don't suppose
there are any birds here on Sardon."
"Zanny-du," Gaby
corrected absently.
"Well, we can't stand
here—have to get back," Magnan declared when the bowl was empty. He turned
and set off abruptly. Gaby fell in at his side. After a quarter of an hour's
leisurely stroll across the close-cropped, tree-dotted meadow, they saw ahead
the line of trees which marked the rivers course. "Odd!" Magnan
cried. "It seemed closer before."
In the chilly cave, Retief
and Bill were discussing the curious silent Voice, which they had not heard now
for a few moments.
"Maybe it's gone,"
Bill offered. "Guess Mr. Magnan's not coming back. Let's get outa here,
Mr. Retief. This place gives me the willies, and Small and Nudine'll be
wondering where we got to."
i am hardly gone
, the pattern stated clearly. I
suggest you remain here for a time. there are
a number of incorrigibles loose outside.
"What about
Red?" Bill asked dubiously. "Should we run him off?"
"He hasn't had his
ice-cream yet," Retief pointed out. "Mr. Magnan seems to be taking
his time."
your associate has made a new friend,
the Voice informed
them,
he'll be along presently.
"Prolly
another old maid," Bill muttered. "No offense, Mr. Retief—"
"Oh, not so old,"
Magnan's voice spoke up cheerfully as he emerged from the darkness, leading
Gaby by the hand.
"Geeze!" Bill said
reverently.
"Geeze, indeed!"
Retief seconded the notion, as he offered the slim beauty a chair, into which
she sank gratefully.
"I'm sorry about the
ice cream, Red," Magnan told the glowering fellow. "We ate it."
"Don't matter,"
Red grunted. "Ill get my own." He rose and started toward the rear of
the cave.
I
wouldn't
, the Voice spoke clearly,
the dragon, you know.
"Old
Worm?" Red and Bill said together. "He's a pussycat."
"But—!" Magnan
started. Bill nodded. "Yeah, the Voice
is
the Worm. I don't get
it."
thank you, indeed,
was the reply.
but not all my manifestations are so benign.
"Pay no
attention, Retief," Magnan whispered. "That's nonsense. Actually
there's a rather pleasant valley just beyond the first turn."
be not deluded,
came the stern warning.
venture there at your peril—
"Yeah,
lissen good, fella," Red burst out. "Old Bim started to check that
out back there wunst, and he come out shook plenty. And I been partway through
there, too, one time. Nothin but ice—and if old Voice says there's a dragon,
I'll believe him!"
"Well," Bill put
in jauntily, "I guess a little peril would liven things up. I'll take a
look." With that he was off, disappearing after a few steps in the deep,
clammy darkness.
"Retief!" Magnan
exclaimed as he watched the young fellow out of sight. "Why didn't you
stop him?"
"Bill's an adult,"
Retief pointed out. "He'll be all right. You said so yourself."
"But the Voice
said—well, you know very well what it said."
While they were still
discussing the matter, Bill sauntered back into view, whistling softly.
"What happened?"
Magnan demanded. "Was it blocked?"
"Changed yer mind, hey,
soldier-boy?" Bimbo sneered.
"What do you
mean?" Bill exclaimed, sounding surprised. "I just had the best three
days of my life in there. I come out here to report, and I'm going right back.
So long."
He turned and would have
returned whence he came, had Retief not caught his arm.
"Just a minute,
Bill," he urged. "Tell us more. You said 'three days'?"
"About; maybe four. Funny
place. Never got dark, underground there, but we slept twice. Figure about
seventy-two hours. I'm ready to rack out now, only the boys are waiting for
me."
"What boys?"
Retief insisted.
"Chip and Bill and Buck
and Horny—you know; my old boot platoon. Even Lieutenant Frong; the whole
outfit."
"Isn't that rather a
coincidence?" Magnan wondered.
"Sure," Bill
agreed. "So what? Swell bunch of guys."
i would urge you to move on, terries
, the pattern formed,
much as I have enjoyed your visit and your
curious conceptions of the desirable.
"Yes, oh,
we were just going," Magnan supplied, bustling toward the glare of the
narrow entryway.
"Go ahead," Red
urged. "Old Eddie's got a surprise fer you."
Magnan checked in
mid-stride. "I dislike surprises intensely," he stated. "As for
this Eddie person, I am assured he's been treed on a rock-spine by the fearsome
Worm itself."
"Don't count on him
staying up there," Red dismissed the objection contemptuously. "Old
Worm's not so bad. You seen that yerself."
make no ill-considered assumptions
, the Voice urged.
Magnan turned back.
"Oh, by the way," he addressed the invisible presence. "Retief
told me about the, ah, eaters! Where did they go? I saw nothing of them in the
cavern yonder."
doubtless the dears are in an esttvating phase prior to
metamorphosis
, was the reply.
"Oh, yes, of
course," Magnan mumbled. "Will they be coming this way again?"
not for some time
, the Voice told him.
but enough of these trifles
, it added,
you have little time remaining before
—the
Voice broke off, as, at the same moment, a hoarse voice yelled from the entry.
"Ahoy! there, mates!
Gladda see ya! We got us a problem here!"
"Hey, Red!"
another voice yelled. "Hulk wants you! Better getcher ass out here where
he can chew on it!"
Small crawled in through the
opening and paused to backhand a whiskery fellow who was attempting to follow.
"They got the
gal," Small remarked.
"You mean
Jacinthe?" Magnan yelped.
"That's Nudine,"
Small corrected. "Gal with the towel. She clawed some, I'll tell ya. But
they was jest too many of'em."
"I hardly see what you
expect
me
to do," Magnan objected. "Brawling with ruffians is
not the strong suit of a diplomat, after all!"
"Thought maybe Retief
and Bill'd like to have a little fun with them suckers," Small explained,
and whirled suddenly as Dirty Eddie's face appeared at the opening.
"I'll take care o'
this, Hulk," he called over his shoulder, and started in. Small seized his
head and gave it a hearty hundred-eighty-degree rotation before thrusting the
noisy fellow back outside. "C'mon," he remarked and went after him.
Bill hurried over as if to follow, but paused and cast an inquiring glance at
Retief.
"Better wait,"
Retief advised. "I think this is more than just another rumble. We've got
at least three separate gangs on the prowl simultaneously. How about it,
Red?" He turned to the now docile thug. "What's up?" he asked
him.
"Why ast me?" Red
yelped. "Better ast old Bimbo— all his idear, anyways. Besides, ain't
nothing up!"
There was another stir at
the narrow entry, and Nudine scrambled through, draped in a plaid shirt six
sizes too big. She jerked it into approximate alignment and commented.
"Slobs! Tryna interfere with me in the performance o' my duties and all!"
Magnan had dashed to her and
was ushering her to his vacated chair, at the same time trying to interpose his
thin body between the near-nude girl and Gaby's innocent gaze. Nudine sank down
gratefully and Red at once served her a generous slice of tender beef. Small
hovered over her solicitously.
She looked around at the
cave, chewing. "Howdy, Gabe," she greeted her table-mate. "You
boys got a nice layout here," she went on. "I always did like them
potted palms and fancy wrought-iron railings and like that. But old Worm's
liable to come back any time."
"It's already
here," Magnan informed the girl. "Haven't you heard it speaking in
your mind?"
"Aw, poor old
Pop," Jacinthe said sympathetically, and put down her fork to pat his
hand. "J
ust
you take it easy, and purty soon you'll be all
right."
Magnan withdrew his hand
stiffly. "That remark, I take it," he stated coldly, "indicates
that you have in fact not been aware of the Voice."
"Not inside o' my head,
Pop," she returned spiritedly, and looked around at the others for their
reactions. "How long he been hearing these here like voices?" she
asked Retief.
"We've all been hearing
it," he told her. "Seems it's the Worm, communicating
telepathically."
"Looky, Mr.
Retief," she said seriously. "Don't you go cracking. I got to talk to
you. There's mischief afoot here, you mark my words. Never seen so many
dropouts and congenital psychopathic inferiors and slime-balls on the move all
at once. They're cooking up something, I got a feeling! We hafta break it up now,
afore they present us with one o' them
fate I come please!"
"I seem to
recall, Miss," Magnan put in coldly, "that it was you yourself who
first told me of the Worm's telepathic abilities."
"Well, yeah, sure,
that's something we always tell the new guys, and about how you better not
never come over here near the gold domes and all—just kind of kidding, you
know? Don't mean I'm spose to believe it my ownself."
"Oddly, the story is
quite correct," Magnan told her. "Though I must decry your
irresponsibility in attempting to delude me. You also mentioned an Emergency
Crew, I believe you called them. Was that—?"
"Ain't seen the Crew
lately," Jacinthe told him. "Should of been on the job, rounding up
these here Spoilsports."
"And one other
thing," Magnan persisted. "What about your being the, ah, Enforcer,
here?"
"Got elected, fair and
square," Jacinthe replied, unabashed.