Выбрать главу

I wondered for a moment why it was that Bawtch had let him in without formal announcement, but a glance at my watch showed that it was midnight and, of course, Bawtch was not there.

I told him not to make so much noise: he would bring the "bluebottles" – the Domestic Police – or, much worse, a Crown inspector down upon us. But he did not pay much attention, so I composed myself as courteously as possible to give him the attention due to a caller.

He had a form in one hand and a pen in the other and he seated himself in the interview chair and with those little shrugs and hitches one makes to get comfortable, began his interrogation.

"Name?" he asked. And when I told him, he, of course, wrote it down on the top of his form.

I was, however, curious. "What form is that?"

"Form 345-678-M," he said.

I told him I was not familiar with that form. He crossed his legs and leaned back. His voice was tolerant. "It's the form one makes out to see if you know."

"About what?" I asked, for I myself am very skilled in interviewing.

"That is the thing we are to establish," said the Manco Devil. He seemed a bit annoyed at my denseness.

I took umbrage at this. "Then how can I answer unless I know about what it is that I don't know?" This did not phase him in the slightest. He twitched his long, spiked tail and somehow this was a signal for the toilet door to open and in came the whole crew of Patrol Craft B-44-A-539-G,the one that had taken Heller to Blito-P3 on the original mission. I was a trifle amazed for I had supposed they were safely down in the bowels of Spiteos. But then I realized Snelz had gotten them a pass so it was all right. There were twenty of them, but of course they had come in through the secret doortrap I would have cut tomorrow so that ceased to bother me.

They stood around my office in a ring and then, at a signal from their craftleader, they sat down very smartly at attention.

The Manco Devil said to them, "He claims he doesn't know what he is not supposed to know." The craftleader looked at me critically and then back at the Devil. "Very good. Then we shan't tell him." The crew got up then and ate the baklava the dancing girl had left on the desk, took out electric whips and began to beat me.

I cowered back, stung, and looked for succor to the Devil. But the Devil had changed to Lombar Hisst!

So I had no alternative. I tried to draw my stungun. Then I was horrified. I couldn't get it out of the holster!

The electric whips were sizzling. I looked frantically toward Lombar but it was now Crobe! I wished the occupant of the interview chair wouldn't keep changing. How could I be expected to answer questions if the interrogator kept shifting?

The crew had now finished the baklava. So they turned to the chair for orders. Old Atty was sitting there now.

"He doesn't know that he doesn't know," said old Atty.

The craftleader drew himself up and gave old Atty a Fleet salute, which I thought was very nice of him and showed respect for Atty's age. "Sir," said the craftleader, "we absolutely will not tell him unless we are very generously bribed." That satisfied old Atty but he was now the Devil again. The Devil said, "Now, in the matter of your employment as handler for the King of the underworld on his secret mission, we come to the matter of pay." The patrol craft crew had vanished.

I said, "I will need more pay than that as I am deeply in debt, have drawn all my pay for the next five years, in fact. After they relieved me from this mission I was penniless and couldn't borrow a cent from my driver. When I received the notice that I had been cashiered, Meeley turned me over to the bluebottles." The Devil said, "Actually, that's why I am here. To collect the bill for this interview." I tried to tell him his addition was faulty, that he had added a lorry load of tup onto it, but he would have nothing of that. He leaped to his feet and his pen turned into a torch.

The wall was directly behind me. I could back up no further! He rammed the flaming torch straight into my stomach and it was agony!

I started to run but the faster I ran the more I was in one place. The Manco Devil got around in front of me and jammed the flaming torch into my stomach again.

With a tremendous effort I tried to draw my gun and shoot him but I could not get it out of the holster.

I leaped up on the desk. But Tug Onecame screaming through the room, pulled me off the desk and exploded in midspace with the loss of all hands.

"That's your fault," said Commander Crup. "I wash my hands of the whole affair." Then the Devil was there again. He had two lepertiges, one on each side of him. He was barely able to hold them back. He yelled at me, "If you find out, I will turn these animals loose and they will rip your guts out!" This intimidated me. I screamed at him, "I'll pay your bill!" I rushed over to a filing cabinet and I got out huge handfuls of counterfeit credit notes and began to throw them at him.

Abruptly the room was empty!

With a groan, I lay back down on the desk. After I had recovered a bit, I looked down and was interested that the flame had not scorched the secret papers I was carrying for the Emperor.

Thankfully, I dropped into a troubled sleep.

Chapter 6

I hit the floor with a crash. It was midmorning.

From a long way off, Bawtch was saying, "You only stamped half of them yesterday. I was taking it easy on you. But there's months of accumulated work undone." I got my eyes open. Bawtch was standing there with a yard-high stack, trying to step over me and get them on the desk.

I struggled to get up. Then I must have fainted. For when I came around again, there were two more clerks in the office. Bawtch was saying to them, "But if he dies on us, we won't ever get these forms stamped." Probably I fainted again. When I came around, I had been dragged over against the wall and there were four clerks in the office.

"I think he's sick," said one of the clerks. "His forehead is hot."

"Be just like him to get one of these new fevers and infect the lot of us," said Bawtch.

"I think we ought to call in a doctor," said another clerk.

"Yeah, you can't have him just dying in here," said another clerk. "It would stink the place up and it's bad enough already." After what may have been hours later, I came around again. I was being laid out flat on my back. There was a doctor there – I recognized him; he was what they call a "medical doctor" because they push out medicine; this was one the prostitutes of the district used; he gave them pills which caused abortions when they got pregnant. He was unpacking a bag on my desk.

He bent over me and pushed a strap down on my forehead and I tried to worm away, thinking he was about to give me a shock. He might not heed the penalty for shocking an officer. These medical doctors are pretty criminal.

The strap turned out to be a temperature gauge. "He's got a fever," this medical doctor said.

"Probably infect all of us," said Bawtch.

The doctor said, "Open your mouth!" and he forced it open. "Aha! Swollen tongue!" He stood up, evidently talking to Bawtch. "It's an obvious case of diploduckus infernam,"he said learnedly. "The new disease that came in from Flisten," he added learnedly. "He will break out in black spots in a couple days and then they will suppurate."

"Is it infectious?" said a clerk.

"Very," said the doctor.

The clerks hastily got out of there.

"How am I going to get these papers stamped?" said Bawtch.

That was out of his field so the doctor said, "I am going to make out a list of pills, powders and wonder drugs. They don't work but he will feel more comfortable."