“Is that how you punish disobedient children in the Barren Lands?” asked Melifaro with acerbic admiration. “Let’s go look for some more to finish off. Maybe we’ll get lucky!”
But lucky we were not. No sooner had we started our excursion around the block when we came upon Sir Lonli-Lokli, who looked tired, but absolutely calm. His snow-white looxi was still flawlessly draped.
“That’s that,” he announced. “I told the police to start restoring the peace. There are no dolls left.”
“Are you sure there are no more of them?” I almost asked, but restrained myself in the nick of time. If Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli says something, then it must be true. I should have learned that by now.
“Thank you for your expediency, Sir Shurf. I have been dying for some kamra for an hour and a half now,” Juffin said, and yawned.
“That is just why I made haste, sir.”
If I didn’t know Lonli-Lokli better, I would have sworn that he was teasing. We went back to the amobiler, but on the way a familiar operatic growl caught our attention.
“Crap like that should stay in a pig’s toilet where it belongs! Bull’s tits! You’re going in there, and you’ll eat your own turds until they stop coming out of your skinny little butt!”
“Boboota’s leading the operation?” I asked.
“But of course!” said Juffin. “It’s great publicity, restoring the peace and whatnot. Do you really think he’d miss a good opportunity to go wild? Boboota jumps at the chance to wave his sword around. It’s his only talent, after all. Praise to the Magicians, have my dreams come true? Looks like one of the little monsters managed to bite him!”
“No, sir,” said Lonli-Lokli. “Captain Foofloss arrived along with General Box. Sir Foofloss, as you know, is a very disciplined soldier. If ordered to open fire with a Baboom slingshot, he does it.”
Juffin and Melifaro exchanged glances and guffawed.
“Captain Foofloss is the worst marksman under the sun!” Juffin explained through his laughter. “If he aims for the ground right under him, he shoots into the sky.”
Then he turned to Lonli-Lokli, “So, what happened?”
“Captain Foofloss’ shot ricocheted off the wall and hit General Box. The injury isn’t serious, but it’s liable to cause him a good deal of discomfort. I mean it will be difficult for him to sit down for a while.”
I joined in the mirth with my colleagues.
Finding myself in the driver’s seat of the amobiler, I decided that I, too, needed a bit of kamra. So we drove back even faster than we had on our way here. I’d swear the darned jalopy was about to take off flying. If anyone besides me got pleasure out of the ride, it was Melifaro. In any event, I had to promise that I would reveal the secret of speed to him. As if it was a secret!
All of a sudden I thought, I’m one to laugh at Captain Foofloss! I don’t even know how to shoot a Baboom! In fact, I don’t even know what it is.
Juffin intercepted my inner monologue, and rushed to comfort me. If you like, we could practice a bit together at the shooting gallery in our free time. But you must keep in mind that we are Secret Investigators, and thus find it beneath our dignity to be involved in such nonsense. And keep your eye on the road, for goodness’ sake!
It was indeed comforting.
An unusually heartwarming sight awaited us when we returned to the House by the Bridge. We found Melamori lounging upon the table in the Hall of Common Labor. She looked disheveled, but very happy. Her narrow feet, covered in scratches, were clamped around the muscular neck of a sturdy blond young man whose face had gone burgundy for lack of oxygen. He had had no choice but to settle into a position so uncomfortable that if I had been the Venerable Head of the Office of Quick Retribution (the Supreme Court, in other words), I would have thought such a punishment to be more than enough.
“He’s all yours, Sir Melifaro,” the sweet lady twittered. “I’ve been sitting with him here for an hour already.”
“It’s your own fault. You could have settled for a less ravishing pose. We would have appreciated you anyway,” Juffin grumbled. “Get that fright into Melifaro’s office. I can’t bear the sight of him. What hands, what talent! And to waste it all churning out those odious monsters. What’s up, genius? Were you too broke for a jug of kamra?”
Juba Chebobargo was not in the mood for conversation. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Lady Melamori hopped off the table gracefully. The poor fool didn’t even react to his sudden liberation from her embrace. She grabbed him roughly by the wheat-colored locks that sprouted from the top of his head, and dragged the mountain of meat into Melifaro’s office with no visible effort. Melifaro followed after them, shaking his head in amazement.
As soon as I sat down at the table, I began to whine. With the exhausted manner of a hero of all world wars in succession, I demanded that we put in our order at the Glutton without waiting for the rest of our colleagues to return. To be honest, I suspect that events would have shaped up that way even without my insistence. Juffin himself was in a hurry to get his kamra.
“I think we should add a few bottles of good wine to our order. I feel a tad tired today,” said Lonli-Lokli. “I don’t think anyone would object.”
Indeed, no one had any objections. The devil take it, we had something to celebrate! Just a few hours ago we had unmasked and disarmed a Phetan, one of the most formidable forces of evil in this World. Not to mention our joint munchkin-extermination mission, and our happy introduction to Juba Chebobargo, the person with the magical hands.
When the trays arrived from the Glutton, Lonli-Lokli produced the familiar cup with the hole in the bottom from under the folds of his looxi. But he slyly managed to surprise me a second time. Uncorking a bottle of Shining, Sir Shurf took his time pouring its entire contents into his cup. Of course, the size of the cup would not seem to accommodate such greed. It turned out, however, that nothing would spill over the brim of the cup, either. The quivering aromatic column of greenish-yellow wine froze above the vessel. Lonli-Lokli sipped from the top of this liquid iceberg.
I felt the urge to cross all my fingers, just to be on the safe side; but then thought better of it, as this could be interpreted as magic of some forbidden degree.
“Do you feel better, Shurf?” asked Juffin.
“I certainly do. Thank you, sir,” said Lonli-Lokli. And, indeed, not a trace of weariness remained on his face.
There was still much that remained unclear to me, so I requested an explanation.
“So it was Juba Chebobargo who made those dolls come alive?”
“Almost. As I understand it, Juba’s skills were so great that he made the dolls using only permitted magic—and his amazing hands, of course! It wasn’t that the dolls were really alive; but they were very lifelike, and they could perform certain simple tasks. Collecting all the money and valuables they could carry, for example. And he taught them to return to their master. It was an excellent plan, I’ll grant him that. If Melifaro hadn’t taken on the case, I don’t think anyone would have caught on for a few more years; and by then he would have made a fortune. Although today’s events probably would have put an end to his scheme, anyway.”
“So what happened? What made the dolls go mad like that? Nothing like that has ever happened before, has it?”
“It certainly hasn’t! What do you think—who was the kid that jumped out of your neighbors’ house and gave the poor lady that overly passionate kiss?”
“One of Juba Chebobargo’s dolls!” It finally dawned on me. “Lady Feni bought it, along with the rest of the antique junk that she collected. And the doll went crazy in that lovely little house, just like the protective amulet that attacked me. I can’t say I blame them. I’d probably go nuts in that place, too. But what happened to all the other dolls? Was it some kind of epidemic?”
“You can be very perspicacious when you wish to be, Max. That is exactly what it was, an epidemic. The crazed object returned home, and thus made a huge contributi
on to science. Now it is clear beyond the shadow of a doubt that the properties of magical objects not only change in the presence of a Phetan, but can also share their newly acquired qualities with other magical objects. Today was quite a fruitful day in the area of scientific discovery. And in the area of bodily injury, for that matter.”
“And conflicts with one’s neighbors,” I grumbled.
“I told you not to move there from the very start, if you would care to recall,” said Juffin, and kindly poured me some more kamra. “And I told you from the very start that by moving there I was acting in the line of duty. How many souls would he have destroyed if he hadn’t come across me?”
“Inhabitants of the Borderlands have a highly developed faculty of intuition; I’m convinced of this now more than ever,” said Lonli-Lokli, summing things up.
“And a highly developed lucky streak,” said Juffin. He turned to me and said, “You have no idea how lucky you were to receive that royal gift when you did. And I have one more scientific discovery that I can share with you. I hope it’s the last one today. I was able to discover the magical properties of the Children of the Crimson Pearl.”
“Ah, while we’re toiling away, state secrets are being revealed in here,” said Lady Melamori, flushed and disheveled, as she appeared in the doorway. She stood at attention, then reported.
“Everything is fine, Sir Juffin! Melifaro will join us in just a moment. He’s finishing the interrogation of Juba with Mister, oh what’s-his-name, from the police. You know, the one who’s fourth on the List. He really is a nice guy. Poor Juba isn’t in his right mind. When I started trailing him, I was already terribly angry. I’m even a little ashamed of myself now. He still isn’t in very good shape after the run-in with his babies. Still, why is Shixola only fourth on the List? I think he deserves to be second, at the very least.”
“If I am not mistaken, Lieutenant Shixola’s intellect manifests itself in the following: he is smitten with you, my lady, and does nothing to hide it.”
“Nothing of the sort!” Melamori retorted. “We only talked about work.”
“As far as I’m aware, that’s all that’s necessary. There, there; I’m just joking! Go on my girl, what were you saying?”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. I see you have more interesting news here. Sir Juffin, you look truly elated. Come now, don’t keep it a secret!”
“I wasn’t planning on it. You were the one who interrupted me. Couldn’t you have just listened quietly from behind the door? So, gentlemen, in answer to Max’s question about Phetans: these creatures are capable of concealing the recollections that people have of them in the dimmest recesses of people’s consciousness. The poor victims are unable to remember their terrifying nightmares. They blame their sickly state on other factors. So they stay home and rest, and in their slumber they again fall victim to the hungry beast. In observing your dream today, I had the opportunity to see the Child of the Crimson Pearl in action with my own eyes. It wasn’t even necessary to keep it at the head of your bed. It was enough for you hold it in your hands just once. It turns out that the pearls help their owners recall events under any circumstances. That’s it! Finish chewing that morsel, Melamori, and tell us what went on over there.”
Melamori, heedless of this wise piece of advice, began speaking with her mouth full. Dining etiquette was obviously not held in very high regard among the Echo aristocracy—though I must admit that this sight only made her more attractive to me.
“I told you; everything’s fine. I started tracking Juba Chebobargo. Not that it was really necessary—his home address is certainly no secret—but I was really furious. It was all for the best, though. By the time we arrested him, the criminal was as tame as a kitten. Well, we set off for the Street of Little Generals, Melifaro and I and the handsome Sir Shixola. When we arrived, Chebobargo appeared to be in quite a pickle. He was sitting on the floor in the parlor, with those little beasts swarming over him from head to toe. They were trying to decide what to do with him. From what we could make out, some of the dolls considered him to be a sort of parental figure, and the other camp dubbed him a tyrant. When we arrived, they were in a heated discussion. Oh, gentlemen, they weren’t actually saying anything at all. They just ground their teeth rhythmically, like a cross between normal and Silent Speech. When we killed a few of the dolls from the doorway, total chaos broke out. They were running every which way, and Chebobargo, too. I don’t know whether he was running from them or from us! I guess the poor fellow didn’t really know what was going on at that point. So I went after him, and Melifaro and Shixola stayed behind to kill the little critters. You know the rest. Oh, one more thing. The police found almost all the stolen valuables in Juba Chebobargo’s bathroom—and mine too, of course. They were on top because I was the last person to be robbed. What about that important business that you fellows had to take care of? What have you been up to? Tell me!” And Melamori gave Lonli-Lokli a pleading look. She’d certainly picked a loquacious bard!
“Sir Juffin will tell you himself, I am sure.”
Yes, Sir Shurf was far from being the greatest gossip in the Unified Kingdom.
“I’ll tell you when everyone else gets here. Don’t be angry dear, I just can’t stand repeating the same thing over and over.”
“Fine! But I may drop dead of curiosity right here in your arms, I warn you!”
Before half an hour had passed, Melifaro arrived. In contrast to everyone else, he had already managed to change his clothes. He was wearing a lettuce-green skaba and red and blue checked looxi. Maybe he kept a whole closet full of garments at work, I mused.
Soon Sir Kofa poked his head into Juffin’s office. He said he was just passing by and decided to drop in to find out how things were, because there were amazing rumors making the rounds in the city. For instance, it was said that Juba Chebobargo was the leader of a gang of midgets. And Mister Venerable Head had apparently killed Tolakan Enn, former Heir to the Throne, with his bare hands, because of some debt at cards from way back. And he knocked off the wife of the victim while he was at it. He then falsified the report, to the effect that the Enns were involved in forbidden black magic and were penpals with two dozen Rebel Magicians.
“Nice rumor,” Juffin said with a grin. “There’s a moral to be learned from it. People should remember it’s best to pay their gambling debts on time!”
But the real joke of the day was sir Boboota Box, who, despite his serious injuries, had already written up an official report in which he said that the “city police were following up on a lead that could result in solving the mystery of the recent robberies that had been taking place in Echo.” Luckily for Boboota, his more intelligent subordinates were in no great hurry to send the letter and prudently saved their boss from embarrassment.
Juffin spent the rest of the evening telling everyone about our adventures. I almost fell asleep in my chair, lulled by the warmth, my own full stomach, and the opportunity to hear the story of my own adventures recounted so thrillingly, even though the story was horrifying.
“Sir Max, I am sending you home,” Juffin announced. “All the mysteries have been solved, and all the pastries have been eaten. What you really need now is to sleep for twenty-four hours without a single nightmare.”
“I have no objections to that,” I said with a smile, “but I have one last question. Sir Melifaro, do you have any cats at your estate?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“I promised myself that when this ordeal was over, I would get myself a kitten. But since two missions have come to a close at the same time, I’ll need two kittens.”
“I could give you a dozen if you ask; but tell me what do plan to do with them? Do you eat them?”
“We Border Dwellers eat anything!” I announced. Then, taking pity on my nonplussed colleagues, I said, “I’m going to stroke them, and they are going to purr. Those, I believe, are the ideal relations between humans and cats.”
Home, sweet home. M
y nightmares were over, and I was exhausted by the ordeal I had been through. I lay down in bed and stretched so exquisitely that I almost cried with joy. I slept, not like a baby, but rather like a bear in its den. And I only came to on the evening of the following day. I was hungry. Unlike a member of genus ursus, I lacked a layer of fat to sustain me.
An hour later, there was a knock at my door. It was the young courier from the Ministry of Perfect Public Order.
“A package from Sir Melifaro for Sir Max,” the boy reported, and handed me an enormous basket. I could hardly lift it. Closing the door after the courier, I removed the ornate blanket that covered the basket. Two dark fuzzy creatures with bright blue eyes were peering out at me. I took them out of the basket. Each of them weighed more than a grown cat in my homeland! I studied them carefully. The black one was a boy, and the coffee-colored one was a girl. The kittens seemed possessed by an utter calm that bordered on extravagant laziness. Naturally, plump as they were! I was so thrilled with my acquisition that I sent a call to Melifaro.
Thanks, buddy! The beasts are awesome! Totally awesome!
Sinning Magicians, Max. You speak so oddly when you use Silent Speech, who would have known . . . They’re just cats, no big deal. Bon appétit!
What else was I expecting to hear? I named the boy Armstrong and the girl Ella. The idea came to me when they reminded me in their low-pitched mews that animals must be fed. My pets definitely knew how to croon. And in the old days, before I was Sir Max of Echo, I used to like listening to a bit of old jazz.
CHAPTER THREE
CELL NO. 5-OW -NOX
THERE’S A SIGN I ALWAYS WATCH FOR: BEFORE EVERY MAJOR CASE, everything goes quiet in the House by the Bridge. If I find myself dozing for several nights in a row in my armchair, my feet up on the desk, it means that some hullabaloo or other will soon be in full swing.