"One's fine," she said. "I usually switch heads with a drink, giving a sip or two to each."
Nate was fascinated. "And you have three different sets of taste buds?"
"Naturally. Just as I have three brains, three necks, three noses and three sets of eyes and ears."
"That's amazing," said Oliver. "With three brains don't your thoughts get all crossed up? I have a terrible time with one."
"Hey, Nate," I said, grabbing his elbow. "Cut the gab and fix her drink. And one for me while you're at it. Make it potent."
After Nate delivered the booze we all sat down in his crowded liveroom. He'd made chairs out of old famous actors. I sat down on Marlon Brando and Esma sat down on Johnny Weissmuller and Nate sat down on Zazu Pitts.
I slugged the double bourbon like baby's milk. Knocking off giant fire dragons builds a man's thirst. "Okay," I said, as one of Esma's heads sipped at her Scotch and water, "fill me in on just how you found us."
Nate squirmed uncomfortably. "It's complicated, Sam."
"So's life," I snapped. "Give!"
Nate sighed, puffing his red-Santa cheeks. "Well … when did you see me last?"
"I saw one of you when I started this case," I told him. "But that Oliver was in another universe. You — or, rather, the other you — managed to foul up in getting me back here and sent me on another dimensional track. I was plenty steamed over it."
"I guess I wasn't doing too well at that stage," he declared sadly. "The other me, I mean."
"You were a little addlepated," I said. "But your intentions were sound."
"Thanks. That's mighty decent of you."
"So as to when I saw you last … I'd say that was about a year ago when you asked me to check on that missing electronic cow of yours."
"Ah, yes," sighed Nate. "I feared she'd been stolen by another would-be electronic cow-inventor. But it turned out she'd simply wandered away. A loose hoof connection was responsible for her erratic behavior."
"A drunk was half-electrocuted trying to milk her in the middle of Michigan Avenue," I reminded him.
"Yes." A fresh sigh. "My inventions seem to attract inebriates. The wino on the horse, for example."
"Where's all this leading?" I wanted to know.
"To my explanation, of course. I merely wanted to fill you in on what's been happening since last we met."
"Then snap to it."
Nate laced and unlaced his pudgy fingers. There was no way of rushing him, so I built me another double bourbon and settled back into Brando's stomach to hear Nate out. Esma seemed amused — and Oliver's having time-yanked us out of KublaKane had put her in a good mood. Besides, since her father was one, she was used to nutty scientists.
"After the unfortunate Michigan Avenue incident with the startled drunk," Nate said, "I turned away from electronic cows to more exacting forms of creative endeavor. I tentatively entered the area of time and parallel universes, getting my toes wet, one might say, in the great cosmic stream."
"I'd heard you were into the schmazz," I said.
"Indeed I was." He removed a huge Irish linen handkerchief and blew his nose like a trumpet. Then he continued. "My ultimate achievement was the snap-beam device which I employed in your rescue." Heave us a smirk. "It is a sort of spy hole into past and future. When the charged neutron isoten energy vibrations are in their proper cohesive sonic sequence I have, in effect, a window through which I may peer at past and future events. It's no cinch to set up, however."
"And that's what you used to spot us with?" I was on my third bourbon, feeling mellow and relaxed. My ankle had quit aching. Just for the hell of it, I switched chairs and sat down on Veronica Lake. Esma stayed with Weissmuller.
"Yes," Nate answered my question with a fresh smirk. "I was doing a bit of poking about in the near-present and picked up your energy pattern on Mercury."
"Were you in on the whole scene?" I asked. "Did you see me stiff the dragon?"
"Indeed I did. And a fine display of cool nerve and superb marksmanship it was!"
I gave him smirk for smirk. "Nothing to it."
"In fact," Oliver went on, "I became so deeply engrossed in your dramatic battle for survival I almost forgot about time-snapping you to safety."
"You got us out and that's what matters," said Esma. "We're very much in your debt, Mr. Oliver."
Nate flushed with pleasure. "It is always gratifying to a creator when his inventions benefit those who may need assistance."
I waved my glass at him. "Got to find out something, Nate."
He inclined his fat head toward me, waiting.
"Where are we, right now, in relation to where we were in KublaKane?"
Oliver laced his hands again. "As precisely as I can determine, you are about an Earth-day in front of yourself."
"Meaning we picked up twenty-four hours?"
"About that. Give or take a squidge."
"Ok," I said, putting my empty glass on a coffee table shaped like Alan Ladd. "That gives us a little leeway on Kane. If we'd ended up a day behind ourselves he might have been able to make another attempt on Dr. Umani's life."
"We'd better contact father and tell him we're safe," declared Esma.
"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "Kane might have his vid tapped. We're better off just popping back unannounced. He'll be safe enough till we get there." I shook hands with Nate. "Thanks for the free buggy ride!"
"My pleasure, Sam."
Esma gave him a kiss on the check with each pair of lips. He twittered. "Care for another drink?"
"We gotta cut out for Bubble City," I told him.
"But I have more inventions to show you. I'm working on a method in which I may painlessly turn pigs inside out."
"Whatever for?" Esma wanted to know.
Nate looked confused. "I'm not sure, to be entirely truthful. There's really no demand for inside-out pigs, is there?"
"We'll take a raincheck on the porkers," I said. "But you could do one more thing for us."
"Simply name it."
"Esma can't hop all the way back to Mars in a guardsman's cape. Got anything else she could wear?"
"I would imagine so," he said, leading us to the bedbooth. He thumbed open a wall, sifted through racked clothing. "How's this?" He showed us a ladies' fullsuit, waist-ribbed with slashcut sleeves. "My late wife was quite fond of it."
"I didn't know you'd been married," said Esma.
"Yes. Dorothy worked with me in some of my earlier experiments. She was carried off and strangled by a mechanical ape. I wasn't much good with my apes in those days. They kept going haywire on me."
"How sad!" Esma declared, slipping into the fullsuit. A perfect fit.
Nate got another triplekiss and we beat it.
Seventeen
Before leaving Earth we'd purchased a safe shipment of coldpacs for old Umani — which had allowed Esma to right away slip the doc into afresh body. He was plenty fed up with being a giraffe head.
When he came out of his labunit to thank me for saving Esma he was a fullblood Oklahoma Cherokee. I explained why my nose was crooked and why I was wearing the face of Kid Smiley, how there hadn't been time for me to get my regular mug restored before picking up the coldpacs.
"Ug! You catchum heap fine bodies," he grunted, using another of his lousy fake accents. "Me likeum this one you betchum!"
"I figure I deserve a reward for bringing back your daughter," I told him.
He nodded his sun-bronzed head. "Great Spirit say you brave man. Me reward you with bonus. Plenty wampum!"
"That's not the kind of reward I mean. You're paying me enough. I'm not after more credits."
"Then you tellum chief what want. Me giveum."
"I want you to stop stalling me on your experiment. I want a full rundown on what you've been fiddling around with and I want to know why F. is trying to stop you."
We looked at each other. His clouded Indian eyes were fierce, and I thought he'd refuse. But he didn't.
"Very well then
, Mr. Space," he said. "Your request is most certainly valid and you've earned the right to have it granted. Please follow me and I'll explain everything."
He swung toward his lab and I was right behind him. Verlag blocked me at the door. Bald. Ham-fisted. Red-eyed. A huge chunk of fighting meat who looked as if he'd put his life on the line to keep me out of that lab.
"Tell your loyal first cousin here to drop the riot act," I said to Umani. "Tell him I've been invited to the party."
"Allow Mr. Space to enter. Stand aside, man!"
Verlag stood aside, glaring. I gave him a glare of my own and entered the lab.
All labs look alike to me. This one looked like Nate Oliver's lab, which looked like most others: tubes, vats, bottles, voltage gimmicks, wires, cables, bubbling fluids. One of Esma's heads was lowered over the eyepiece of a gadget on one of the long tables; her other two heads looked up at me and smiled as I came in. "Sam! I didn't think Daddy would —"
"Would let me in on the family secrets?" I grinned. "I earned the info and he knows it."
Umani Indian-nodded, hands folded across his chest. He dug playing chief. Too bad the body was dressed in a plain bizsuit; he needed feathers and buckskins and buffalo horns to go with the pose.
Esma was happy for me. "I hated hiding things from you, Sam. But Daddy insisted."
"Ug. That true. Chief tell daughter keep mouths shut."
"Now we'll tell him everything, won't we, Daddy?"
Verlag stepped between us, crazy-eyed. "I say we keep this cheap peeper in the dark about the setup," he rasped. "He could be working for F. — trying to sneak his way into our confidence."
"Verlag, you're a bloody fool!" snapped Umani. "Leave us at once. You've just insulted the man who saved Esma's life."
"I still say it could be a con," snarled Verlag.
"Out! Away!" demanded Umani.
Verlag slunk off, glaring back at me.
"I must apologize for my first cousin, Mr. Space," said Umani. "He's been working night and day. All these lurid attacks on me have put him under something of a strain. In addition to which, as an out-of-temper giraffe head, I was not the best of lab companions."
"Forget it," I said. "Just tell me what goes with your experiment."
"Ah, but of course." Umani moved to a squared-off area in one corner of the unit. It had been cleared of junk. Just bare flooring. "My balls, dear," he said to Esma.
She brought him two red rubber balls, one much larger than the other.
"Ug. You watchum balls," grunted Umani. He tossed them onto the bare flooring. The balls bounced once, then rose in the air. The small one began circling the large one, which continued to float free of the floor.
"What the hell goes on?" I asked. "What are a couple of dumb rubber balls supposed to prove?"
Umani gave me an Indian scowl. "White man not give chief chance to tellum. Shutum mouth, watchum balls."
"The balls represent the Earth circling the Sun," Esma told me."Normally, the Earth orbits smoothly — but it can be affected."
Umani threw a toggle switch and the smaller ball began to weave drunkenly. It finally lost contact and fell to the floor.
"I still don't get it," I said.
Umani drew his heavy Cherokee brows together in a deep frown."The Earth is in trouble. It is no longer stable. Its natural orbit around the sun has already shifted. To the average solar citizen the shift is not yet perceptible. The same situation is true of Mars. All of the planets within the System are being subtly manipulated."
"What are you telling me?"
"Isn't it obvious? Someone is affecting the orbital patterns of all the solar bodies in our System. The change is not yet critical, but the danger is very real. If something is not done to counteract these orbital shifts …"
"Our goose is cooked. And you've been trying to uncook it, right?"
"Exactly. My experiment, which I have dubbed ORSTA, orbit stabilizer, is designed to re-establish the correct orbital patterns. But I'm working against terrible odds. I'm not sure that I can finish in time to save the System."
I perched on a closewood workstool and tried to absorb the info."What I don't get is why. Why would anyone try to freak up the System? If the nine planets and their satellites all go kablooey wouldn't whoever's behind it go with them?"
Umani sighed. "I think not. Whoever is causing this orbital shift obviously has a base outside our System and will no doubt conduct the final phase of destruction from there. Just think of it: nine planets driven into collision orbit with one another. A cosmic game of mibs, played by an evil child."
"To what purpose?"
Umani shrugged. "I cannot guess. Ways of white man strange to Indian. Great Spirit angry. Chief confused."
"Are you the only scientist working on this?"
"Heavens, no. I've been in contact with dozens of others throughout the System. But, as it seems, I am the only one who is close to solving the problem. That's why my life has been in constant jeopardy."
I slapped my hands together. "Wow! This is some can of beans! The whole System. Kablooey! Whoever's behind it doesn't do things in a small way."
"Father thinks Kane may be the one," put in Esma. "And since he engineered my kidnap the idea is reasonable."
I argued the point. "Kane has a lot of personal business interests in the System. Why would he destroy his own solar empire?"
"A good question," agreed Umani. "And one to ponder."
"How long will it take for you to get your orbit stabilizer cooking?"
"Perhaps a week or so, more, Marstime, if I am allowed to work sans attack. By then I should be able to steady the orbital shift and save the System."
"Well, my job's over. I'm going to head for Callisto and get my face back."
Esma looked worried. "Aren't you going after Kane?"
"What for?"
"To find out if he's really F. And because he tried to murder all of us.
And because he had me kidnapped. And because —"
I stopped her. "Whoa! Everything you say is true, but what can I do about it? We have no solid proof against Kane, legally speaking. I'm just one guy. I can't face Kane alone."
"But you went after him twice before," Esma protested. "In Domeville and at Whisker Town. Why then and not now?"
"My curiosity was roused. I didn't know who F. was then. Now it appears he's Ronfoster Kane and if that's so then he's out of reach. Too big a fish for me to net. Can't you see that?"
Esma nodded all three heads. "Forgive me, Sam. I just wasn't thinking straight. I was letting emotion overcome logic. There's no sense in your facing down Kane. We hired you for a job and the job's done. You have every right to quit."
"I'm not quitting if you still want me around. I could stay here with your father until his gimmick is working."
"No, Daddy's safe enough here in the lab. The unit is now destruct-proof, and we have Verlag on hand."
"Swell," I said. "You can reach me at my office on Mars if you need me for anything."
"Thank you, Sam." She leaned toward me and kissed my cheek wither nearest head.
"Hey," I said. "I forgot about Nicole. Where is she?"
"Daddy said she left shortly after you did. Told him she had to return to Allnew York."
"That right. Daughter speak truth."
"Did she say why?"
"Not say why. Just leave. Take great bird in sky and go far place."
I rubbed a slow hand over my neck. "I thought we had something going. Thought she'd wait for me. Did she leave any message?"
Umani shook his bronzed head.
"So be it," I shrugged. "Guess I must be losing my touch with dames."
Two of Esma's three heads blushed. "I wouldn't exactly say that, Sam."
Which restored my masculine ego and sent me chuckling on my way.
Eighteen
On Callisto Zaadar seemed a little miffed about my bending Kid Smiley's nose — as if I'd spoiled a picture he'd painted — but he put me back in jimdandy
shape. I got my ugly old kisser back, good as new.
I was glad to be myself again.
In Bubble City I had a surprise waiting for me: Nicole was sitting in my office when I arrived.
"Thought you'd cut for Allnew York," I said.
"I did. But I came back to Mars for a very important reason."
She was wearing a deep delish spackgown with beamed thrusters, and I couldn't resist her. I slid around the desk and took her by the shoulders. Tipped her head back. Kissed her. She had moonfruit lipice on her earlobes and I found that erotic as hell. "Just couldn't stay away, baby. Isn't that it?"
"No, Sam. That isn't it."
"Huh? I don't get you."
"Maybe this will help explain why I'm here." She pointed a .40-80 twintrack Browning-Pritchett angle-thrust trigweapon at my lower gut.
"Hey! What's wrong with you?"
"Not a thing, Sam. But if you don't do as I say there'll be plenty wrong with you. First, put your .38 on the desktop."
Her eyes told me she wasn't kidding.
I followed orders.
"Now come with me. I have a ship outside." She gave me a grim little smile. "Back in Allnew York you escorted me. Now it's my turn to
escort you."
"Where to?"
"To a man who's waiting to see you."
"And who would that be?"
The smile widened in a wicked flash of teeth. "Ronfoster Kane. Who else?"
"You're some sweet cookie," I told her. "First you play decoy for a sap job — and I end up in another universe. Next you let Kane's gun-goons know I was heading for Jupiter and as a result I get brainwashed by mice and shipped off to hunt Zubu eggs. Now you pop up again all set to kidnap me for Mr. Kane. There's just one thing I'd like to know."
"That phrase is pointless and cliched. We all want to know much more than just one thing, but people keep saying otherwise. Particularly private detectives. But I'll oblige. What one thing do you wish to know, Sam?"
"Why did you bother to unscramble me on Pluto? Why didn't you just leave me there? Why the Act of Mercy?"
"We've no time to discuss behavioral patterns and character motivation," she said crisply. "The ship is waiting."
Space For Hire (Seven For Space) Page 9
