Lately Lombar Hisst had been coming to Spiteos almost every day for a brief period, usually in the morning. He was doing something strange down in the storerooms with that weird powder. Snelz himself had escorted in several truckloads of strange things marked Lactose, Epsom Salts, Quinine, Baking Powder, Photo Developer, Insecticide and Strychnine. Hisst had several technicians who would take something called amphetamine out of its original capsules, mix the powder with these other things and then, using new capsules, expand the original batch enormously. According to one of the technicians, Hisst seemed to take a lot of pleasure in this strange exercise: he called it "cutting" and seemed to think nobody else could do it as expertly as he.
And Snelz had noted that the Earthman Madison was never kept informed as to where he could find Hisst: that was no real mystery, as Hisst always had the idea that anywhere he went, an assassin would be waiting for him. So, at odd times of the day or night, Madison would show up at Spiteos.
It had become so well known now that Madison was a close creature of Hisst that Madison could come and go as he pleased. The very distinctive Model 99 with its four flying angels was never even challenged in the air. Once landed, Madison had carte blanche. He needed no escort, he didn't even show his plate, he simply trotted over to the zipbuses, went through the tunnel, up the elevator and into the north tower. Often, nowadays, there weren't even clerks up there.
Knowing Madison for a fake and no friend of Heller's, Snelz selected him for a messenger whose message, it seemed, could end in somebody's death.
Accordingly Snelz, despite the hour, paraded his company. He went down the line, looking very closely at his men. Suddenly he stopped and pointed his baton.
"You there. You have just volunteered. Lieutenant, dismiss everyone but this man and Timyjo."
Snelz took the two men aside. Timyjo was the company's best thief. "Timyjo, go into town and get an expensive suit of gray shimmercloth and all those conservative things that go with it. The stores at this hour should be easy to rob. Make sure they fit this man. Be back before dawn."
Snelz whiled away the time by buying the guard officer some drinks and shooting a little dice. He even had an hour for a nap.
Timyjo returned laden. In his dugout, Snelz dressed the volunteer. He stepped back admiringly. Same height, same build, same hair coloring. To all intents and purposes, unless one knew him well, one was looking at Madison.
Not to take any chances, Snelz put a pair of sand goggles on him, a thing he had lately seen Madison wear.
He gave the fellow the envelope. He said, "Now, don't talk to anybody. Just get on a zipbus, go up in the elevator, walk through the clerk's room, enter the office of Lombar Hisst and lay this squarely in the middle of his desk. Then walk out and come back here."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we throw you in the chasm and forget about it."
It was well after dawn. A sleepy camp was recovering from hangovers.
The volunteer, feeling very nervous, pleaded at least for a canister of tup. Then, fortified, he walked out, got on a zipbus, got off, got in the elevator, went up to tower level and entered the clerk's outer room. He froze. The old criminal chief clerk was sitting there, back to the door.
With no choice but the chasm if he did and the chasm if he didn't, the volunteer walked boldly across the room.
The old chief clerk glanced up. "He isn't here," he muttered and went back to his work.
The volunteer pretended he had not heard. He walked to Hisst's office door and went in. The place impressed him very unfavorably: one whole wall was glass, a throne chair that looked like tomb-loot was behind the desk. But the volunteer wasted no time.
He took the envelope out of his coat. He laid it on the desk and propped it up with a stinger. Anybody who sat down would be hit with the address.
The volunteer walked out.
The chief clerk muttered, "I told you he wasn't here."
The volunteer got into the hall.
Meanwhile Snelz was experiencing shock and heart failure. The volunteer had no more than gotten on the zipbus when the feeling of being smart and clever turned, in Snelz, to horror.
THE MODEL 99 LANDED!
In a state of acute paralysis he watched Madison get out, walk through the dust to the barricade before the zip-bus. Snelz didn't dare breathe. Would the officer on duty notice he was logging Madison in TWICE?
Action was the answer to everything with Snelz. He drew a hand blastgun, fired at the top of a pole and shattered the light. He ducked.
As glass showered down, the guards raced for cover. Madison put into action his own method of escape. He swung aboard a zipbus quickly and looked back as it sped away into the tunnel.
Not daring to think what would happen when Madison ran into "Madison" in the elevator or hall, he did something he almost never did: he prayed.
The volunteer, meanwhile, was waiting in the hall for an elevator shaft to signal it was clear. Somebody was coming up!
Not wanting anything like a confrontation, possibly even with Lombar, the volunteer looked hastily around. There was a big box of fresh computer paper in the hall. It was only four feet high but he quickly dived behind it. Peering out, he was horrified to see the real Madison step out of the shaft!
The instant the hall was clear, the volunteer dived headfirst into the shaft to get out of there.
The real Madison walked into the clerk's office.
"What'd you do?" the chief clerk said, after an indifferent glance. "Forget something?"
Madison walked on into Lombar's office, saying, "I'll wait."
He had the newest clippings from the press. They gave a lot of juicy speeches about Hisst wanting law and order and raging about anyone trying to defame the honor of Apparatus officers, and he knew these shots of his angry face would delight Lombar no end. He wanted to make a nice display of them on the desk.
A stinger was propping up a big envelope and he accidentally knocked it down. He set it up once more. But it was in the way of his clipping spread. He decided it should be put further back. He took hold of it once more and moved the stinger and, then, with a double take, suddenly registered what was in his hand.
He stared, stunned.
TO LOMBAR HISST
FROM JETTERO HELLER
Private. Personal. Secret.
How had that gotten there?
It was still sealed.
Lombar hadn't seen it yet.
Not knowing anything about Heller's admonition to Snelz that Lombar would have the messenger killed, particularly if the seals were broken, Madison quivered with greed to know.
What was this? Some secret communication line?
And as it was from the only reason he was doing all he was doing, he could hardly resist.
He broke the seals.
It was all quiet in the outer office.
Madison swiftly read:
Hisst,
Greetings and salutations and all that son of thing, none of them sincere:
You have known for some time the company I've been enjoying as I left you the present of my baton.
As you know-for you keep saying so on Homeview-His Majesty is suffering from an indisposition, and we really do not want to trouble him with such a small matter as signing and sealing a Royal proclamation declaring you a traitor and a menace to the state.
However, we can promise you that in the event you seek to use the Army or the Fleet in attacking Calabar, the proclamation will be issued and that will be the end of Hisst. So my advice to you is simply to fly into a few rages, shoot some of your own staff and let nature take its course.
Hoping not to have the
pleasure of seeing you
hanging on the gallows,
Jettero Heller
Madison read it again. Suddenly everything began to click together. Time after time he had told Hisst that all he had to do was get a Royal proclamation about this thing or that: Hisst every time had looked extremely cagey!