* * *
The Therpool was new, astonishing, miraculous; the latest novelty and entertainment of the lunatic Guff. It was filled with a freak bond of hydrogen and oxygen into H2On, which meant that the hybrid water could actually be breathed. It was typical of the Guff that this metabolic miracle should first be used for amusement. The pool was dazzled with a laser symphony and you swam in a consortium of son et lumière. You paid the equivalent of a hundred gold pieces for the luxury.
She could easily afford it, and she needed the therapy of the thermal null-G relaxation very badly. She had two dozen advertising accounts, all of them demanding and exasperating, and yet paying such exorbitant fees that she could never bring herself to dump any one of them. So instead she dumped herself into the liquid light and drifted and dreamed, drifted and dreamed.
She was alone in the Therpool (she’d paid a high premium for the privilege), but he came out of the depths to her like a languorous saffron shark and courted her as gently and quaintly and gracefully as only sea-creatures can. She was enchanted and responded, and their floating pas de deux was lovely. But then he took possession of her nude body with the savage urgency which the females of the species endure with a mixture of drifting and dreaming, pleasure and pain, fulfillment and rage.
* * *
“I do not advantage myself with the insolence of office to visit you in your apartment unannounced, madame,” Subadar Ind’dni said, “but rather depend upon the simpatico between us. And you, too, Dr. Shima.”
“You’re very kind, Subadar,” Gretchen smiled.
“And very devious,” Shima smiled.
“As are we, all three,” Ind’dni smiled. “And that is the basic of our understanding. We know where we stand and unstand with each other. And on one issue we collaborate in fear and hatred.”
“The Golem.”
“So you call it, madame. I think of it as the Hundred-Hander, the mad thing that stinks of cruelty and takes a hundred forms to execute.”
“The Subadar knows something we don’t, Gretch.”
“More outrages, Mr. Ind’dni?”
“I will answer that question when I know why it is asked, Miz Nunn.” He was quoting her reply to the PloFather.
Gretchen shot a look at Ind’dni who returned it quizzically. “Oh yes. I know all about your visit to the P.L.O. oasis. I did tell you that I do not lack resources.” He turned to Shima. “And the visit to Salem Burne. I am most admiring of your efforts to conceal and protect. My confidence in you both is much compounded.”
“He wants something from us, Gretchen.”
“Only to tell you that, yes, there have been new outrages, atrocious acts which can assuredly be attributed to the Hundred-Hander.”
“What acts?”
“Tortures and Lethals. And we have some strange witness-verbal descriptions of the forms the Hundred-Hander took whilst perpetrating.” Here Ind’dni paused, then continued smoothly. “Perhaps most interesting was the description of a vicious attacker in the new Therpool.”
“Yes?”
“It was of Dr. Shima.”
“What!”
“It was you, Dr. Shima.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Alas, you must. The victim’s description of the criminal assaulter was unmistakable. To make certain, she was shown lineup faxes in the round. She picked yours without the slightest doubting hesitation.”
“This is a damnable ploy, Ind’dni.”
“No, assuredly. She described you.”
“But that’s impossible! Criminal assault! I’ve never been near the Therpool. I wouldn’t know how to find it. What’s the date of the attack? I can prove that I—”
“Cool it, Blaise,” Gretchen cut in. “Easy, man, until we know exactly how it stands. Subadar, this was one hell of a mess to start with, and it seems to be getting worse. Now play fair with us. Give us a full report of these new horrors. All of them.”
“They are not yet of public record.”
“Can that matter? If Dr. Shima is in some way connected with the Hundred-Hander, as I’m sure you suspect, then you’ll be telling him nothing that he doesn’t already know.”
Ind’dni gave her the fencer’s salute, acknowledging a hit. “And Dr. Shima called me devious. I bow, madame. Here is what has happened.”
When the Subadar had finished his detailed report there was a long silence while they digested the data. Then Shima whispered, “Dear God,” and at last found his voice. “Gretchen, I think it’s time for us to—”
“Clam it!” she snapped. Ind’dni’s painful account had first shocked her, then electrified her, and now she was assured and driving. “Subadar, I’m almost positive that you have the key to the Golem100. You don’t know it. Blaise might fit it together when he comes out of shock. I know now, not because I’m smarter than you two; simply because I have access to personality and persona profiles which you don’t. The psytech instinct. I believe I see the construct.”
Ind’dni gave her another quizzical look. “Do you, madame? And?”
“It’s based on Freud’s primary psychic process.” Her words came like blows. “Instinct eruption! Energy thrust! Erotic libido and death libido. Eros! Thanatos!”
“Yes, our professions require a familiarity with psychiatry. And?”
“First I must know Dr. Shima’s status. Is he to be charged and arrested on that victim’s I.D.?”
“He claims innocence.”
“I do, God help me!” Shima burst out.
“Then what did Miz Nunn stop you from telling me? Too late now. Do you believe him, madame?”
“I do.”
“Then you object to his arrest?”
“Most certainly.”
“On what grounds? Personal?”
“No, professional. I’ll need his help.”
“You are most difficult collab-person colleague, Miz Nunn.” Ind’dni smiled ruefully while he considered. Then, “Dr. Shima is charged in your category, with Felony-Five. He is placed under Guff-arrest.”
“Thank you.”
“And now I will thank you to return the courtesy. How is he to help you?”
“Don’t ask me,” Shima muttered. “I’m wiped out. A cipher. Criminal assault! Rape! Dear Christ help me…”
“How do you intend to act, Miz Nunn? What is this key which you alone know?”
Gretchen shook her head. “As subtle and sophisticated as you are, Subadar, you would never understand the psychodynamics of intuition.”
“Please to try me, nevertheless.”
“You would never believe.”
“The Hindu culture is capable of fantastic beliefs.”
“And ‘The Murder Mavin of the Guff’ could never approve.”
Ind’dni winced. “Most unkind of you to use that label, Miz Nunn,” he said reproachfully. “Do you intend to act illegal?”
“That would depend on your definition of illegality, Subadar. Let me put it this way: we’re forbidden to leave the Guff precinct without your knowledge and consent. Yes?”
“My hukm. Yes. That is the constraint of the invented Felony-Five category.”
“But what if we were to leave without leaving?”
“That is paradox.”
“No. It can be done.”
“Leave? Without leaving? Surely you do not mean departure through suicidal self-ending?”