The Stranger's Woes

  “I catch,” Anday said with a conspiratorial air. “I bet you really know how to party, Max, don’t you?”

  “Me? I don’t know. It’s been so long since I tried. Back in the day, though . . . Well, we’ll see.”

  Then this latter-day son of pirates and chefs hightailed it out of my office. Amazing. He didn’t even ask me to walk him through the rodent-ridden hallways to the entrance of Headquarters. Maybe he was already getting used to his status as friend of Sir Max the Terrible. I realized that my sudden notion to take him along wasn’t half bad. He would keep everyone amused, me especially. What I was really happy about was that with this welcome rotund burden on my hands, I wouldn’t be tempted to torment Melamori with my mournful gaze. Anday Pu was as necessary to me on this trip as a piece of chewing gum to someone who’s trying to give up cigarettes. I just hoped he proved to be more useful than a pathetic piece of gum.

  At around four hours after midnight, armed with a bottle of Elixir of Kaxar from Juffin’s desk drawer, I knocked on Melamori’s door. She opened right away, as though she had been standing there since the evening before.

  “Are we off?” Melamori had already managed to get dressed and made up. Her face looked somewhat haggard, though, no doubt about it.

  “I have to admit, I was really expecting to have to drag you out of bed by force at this hour. So we’ve got a whole hour to kill. We can go back to the House by the Bridge and have a bite to eat. I know the word ‘breakfast’ makes you queasy, but this should take care of that.” I handed Melamori the bottle.

  “Thanks. It turns out I don’t have any Elixir of Kaxar in the house. Silly, isn’t it? To be honest, I haven’t even been to bed yet.”

  I smiled apologetically. Melamori took a large sip of the tonic and brightened up right away.

  “Yes, let’s go to Headquarters,” she said. “Breakfast wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

  During the drive there, neither of us talked. Of course, the drive took all of three minutes. I flew through the night like a madman on wings, since at that hour the streets are as empty as the Barren Lands.

  I had sent a call to the Glutton as we were leaving Melamori’s house, so when we arrived at the Hall of Common Labor, breakfast was already laid out on the table. Melamori dug in with gusto.

  “I arranged for some entertainment on our punitive expedition,” I announced. “It should be here any minute now.”

  Then I told Melamori the story of the scion of our local corsairs. Judging by her hearty laughter, my narrative skills were in good working order.

  “I’m afraid that I may have done a disservice to Sir Rogro. It was shameless of me, of course, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to reverse the fortunes of the little guy who’s been down on his luck for so long.” This was the closing line in my predawn narrative performance.

  “By the way, do you know anything about this fellow Rogro?” Melamori asked. “At one time he, too, ‘burned like a comet,’ as your new friend would say. Did you know he was a novice in the Order of the Seven-Leaf Clover? And a hero of the Troubled Times, too. This fellow threw himself into any turmoil or scuffle he could find, just for the fun of it, and he performed a number of unprecedented exploits out of pure foolishness. Then, right after the Code came into force, he landed in Xolomi for practicing Forbidden Magic of the sixtieth degree, I think, in a street fight. They kicked him out of the Order immediately, of course, although there was quite an outcry. He was universally loved and admired. At that time they were very strict. Even his battle scars couldn’t save him. It was when he was serving time in Xolomi that Rogro came up with the idea of the newspaper and wrote a letter to the old king, who was delighted with the idea. So when Rogro was released from Xolomi, he was already a respectable man, editor-in-chief of the paper he himself had founded, the Royal Voice. That was the very first newspaper in Echo.”

  “Really? A World without newspapers . . . hard to imagine. A World without anything else seems plausible. But no newspapers? And Sir Rogro was the one who invented them. Boy, that guy must be a real genius!”

  “You can say that again,” Melamori said. “It’s hard to believe nowadays, but back then the paper was free because none of the Echoers really knew what it was for. So the king footed the bill. Then people got so used to reading the paper that they couldn’t break the habit even when Sir Rogro started charging for it. A dozen years later, the Echo Hustle and Bustle appeared. It’s supposed to be published by different people, but Sir Rogro is behind that one, too. You can take my word for it. My father and he are good friends, so I know what I’m talking about. The Hustle is even more wildly successful. They write all kinds of nonsense, and people love it, you know.”

  “I know. Thanks for telling me, Melamori. Juffin advised me long ago to take a look at Sir Rogro’s dossier. He said I’d get a kick out of it. That editor-in-chief is quite a guy.”

  “He certainly is.” Melamori looked at me searchingly and said, “Max, what made you ask me to go along with you?”

  “Well, I have a habit of doing stupid things, which I don’t care to go into just now. Then I really might need your help. I have no desire to ‘play hide-and-seek in the bushes,’ as Juffin put it. If we’re going hunting for these fellows, it wouldn’t hurt to find them as quickly as possible. And the Magaxon Forest is big, if the map doesn’t lie. And finally . . .” Suddenly I felt embarrassed and started fishing around in my pocket for my cigarettes.

  “Finally?”

  “You know, since Fate and Death and all the Dark Magicians are so concerned about our morals and all that, well, I thought it just wasn’t meant to be. But maybe going out to catch Magaxon outlaws when we’re locked in an embrace isn’t such a bad alternative? I mean, there are many ways of getting pleasure from our common efforts, and we should try everything at least once, don’t you think?”

  “You’re the most remarkable guy in the Universe, is what I think. Especially when your mouth’s open and words come out. That’s your normal state, I think. You probably even talk in your sleep.”

  “I swear up a storm when I’m asleep. Ask Lonli-Lokli. He’ll recite one of my somnolent monologues to you.”

  “He already did.”

  By now, Melamori was in the best of moods, to my indescribable delight.

  “Excuse me, Max. I’m not bothering you, am I?” Anday said. He stood in the doorway, looking Melamori up and down appraisingly, and casting significant glances at me. “I can wait out there, no problem.”

  “You don’t have to wait for anything, Anday.” I took a tiny sip of Elixir of Kaxar and stood up. “Here he is, Melamori.”

  “So I gathered.” Melamori smiled.

  “Anday, this is Lady Melamori Blimm, Master of Pursuit of the Fleeing and Hiding. If there’s anything you need to be afraid of in this building, it’s not the harmless policemen but her. And me just a tiny bit, of course, so I won’t feel hurt. Let’s go, kids. I’m sure Kamshi and Shixola have been pacing the floor in their office for hours already. When I told Shixola what time we were leaving, he nearly had a heart attack. They aren’t aware of my talents as a race car driver.”

  “They’re perfectly aware of them, Max,” Melamori said. “But that won’t stop them from worrying. Someone has to, before embarking on a grand operation like this one.”

  “Stands to reason. Okay, we’re off. It’s time.”

  Lieutenant Kamshi was already sitting in the official amobiler. His colleague was circling the vehicle—or, rather, making irregular ellipses around it, fiddling nervously with his pipe. They really did look like they were on pins and needles.

  Then, to their visible relief, I got behind the levers of the amobiler.

  “Gentlemen, this is Mr. Anday Pu.” I nodded toward my protégé. “He’s my personal scribe. I’ve become terribly conceited recently, and our healers can’t do anything about it. So I ask you to love him, and not to hurt his feelings. He’s your brother. Besides, he’s very sensitive. I hope he’ll get over that
soon enough. Anday, remember—or, better yet, jot down—the names of your new friends: Sir Kamshi and Sir Shixola. They don’t bite, whatever you might think. Melamori, you sit next to me. It will be a bit cramped there in the back. Our Sir Anday might not be a hulk, but he isn’t the smallest kid on the block.”

  No one had time to say a word before I tore out of there as only I can. Shixola gasped in delight. “Well, it looks like we will get there on time,” Lieutenant Kamshi said dryly.

  “No way,” I objected. “We’ll get there earlier than we need to—by exactly one half hour. I always drive slowly and carefully in town. Beyond the city gates you’ll find out what speed is.”

  Behind the levers of an amobiler I become completely unbearable. What’s true is true. As soon as we were out of the city, nothing could hold me back. I raced like I was trying to outsmart the devil at his own game. The fellows in the back seat clung to each other like orphans at a benefit dinner. It was all for the best, though. They say that suffering in company furthers mutual sympathy, and that the fellowship of misfortune becomes, in time, simply good fellowship.

  “Would you get a load of this?” Anday whispered behind me. “Dinner is over once and for all!”

  “Exactly,” Kamshi said in a tight voice.

  “Our race car drivers can go into retirement, every last one of them,” Shixola said.

  I puffed up with pride and sped up just a tad bit more.

  Melamori was clinging to the seat, her knuckles white. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. It had been a long time since I’d seen such a happy expression on that lovely face. Her eyes burned brightly, and a slight smile played on her lips. Her excitement seemed to have stopped her breath.

  “I want to drive like that, too, Max!” she said. “Will you teach me?”

  “There’s nothing to teach. The speed of the amobiler reflects the driver’s desire. When you get behind the levers, just remember this trip. You’ll drive just as fast as me, you’ll see.”

  “I’ll overtake you,” Melamori said. “It may take me a dozen years, but I will overtake you. Maybe I’ll even manage sooner.”

  “Want to bet? I say it’ll take you at least a dozen years,” I said.

  “Hmm, I don’t know. Money is boring. You and I both have plenty, praise be Dondi Melixis and his Royal Treasury. Okay, let’s just say that whoever wins gets to decide what the stakes are.”

  “Deal. But remember: I can drive still faster than I’m going now.”

  “Go ahead,” Melamori urged warmly.

  “I feel sorry for the boys back there. Maybe later.”

  “Okay. But I’ll hold you to it!”

  She went quiet and fixed her eyes on the darkness again. I was glad I had been able to make her happy. I never would have expected it.

  “We’re almost there, boys,” I said forty minutes later. “Tell me where to go. I have no idea where our rendezvous point is.”

  Lieutenant Kamshi was able to get his bearings almost immediately, and following his directions we soon arrived at the meeting place half an hour early, as I had predicted. Melamori was the only one who had any regrets about this. The other victims of my inner speed demon crawled out of the amobiler more dead than alive, then sank down in the grass. I sighed and got out the Elixir of Kaxar.

  “Have some,” I said, holding out the vessel with the magic liquid. I’m convinced it can help in any possible situation. “Is it really as bad as all that? I wanted you to enjoy the ride.”

  “We did,” Melamori said.

  The lady was in excellent spirits. The others looked at her like she was mad.

  “That was something else. Sound the alarm,” Anday said weakly.

  He lay back in the grass and stared up at the sky. Even a sip of Elixir of Kaxar couldn’t restore his usual liveliness. The policemen were lying next to him, not saying a word. Melamori, meanwhile, was eagerly taking off her shoes. She couldn’t wait to start the chase.

  Here you see the difference between Secret Investigators and other people, I thought, looking at the happy Melamori. Shurf once told me that a completely normal person wouldn’t be able to do our job. I’m pretty sure he’s right. All you have to do is look at these normal guys and then at our lovely loony lady here.

  “I’ll go see what I can find,” Melamori said. “I’ll be very careful, and I won’t venture farther than this grove. I promise.”

  “If you really mean to go no farther than that, be my guest,” I said. “Only don’t risk following someone’s trail and getting lost in the wilderness, okay?”

  “Please, Max! I’m not a kid,” Melamori said.

  I gave a skeptical sniff. Melamori was always a paragon of caution until it concerned her own work.

  “No one has walked through this grove for a long time,” Melamori said a few minutes later. “Max, I think it would make sense to—”

  “To keep walking a bit farther, right? Fine, but only in good company.” I turned to the policemen, who were still in a semi-catatonic state after the ride.

  “Anyone alive there? There’s a lady here who wants to walk through the dark forest.”

  The gallant Kamshi began peeling his behind off the damp grass.

  “Max, I’ll manage fine on my own,” Melamori said.

  “Of course you will. If someone can’t manage, it will be me. My nerves won’t hold out. I’ll sit here imagining you falling into the paws of wild, uncouth outlaws. I’m just doing it out of self-interest.”

  “Well, in that case, let’s be off, Sir Kamshi,” Melamori said with a sigh. “The longer I work in this outfit, the more bosses I have. Doesn’t that strike you as illogical?”

  “I understand perfectly, Lady Melamori,” Kamshi assured her, like the true gentleman he was. And he was no doubt speaking the truth, recalling his own superiors.

  The two of them disappeared into the tangle of undergrowth. I could have gone with her myself, I thought.

  The leaves rustled in back of me. Quick as lightning I spun around, determined to bargain for my life at a high price.

  “It’s all right, Sir Max. The boys are just getting ready,” Shixola said.

  “Yes, it’s time. It’s already getting light. How’s it going down there, Blackbeard Junior? Alive and kicking again?”

  “The dinner is totally over, Max,” Anday called out weakly. This time he paid no attention to the pet name I had chosen for him. “I’m wiped out. Sound the alarm! I could do with another cup of Elixir of Kaxar.”

  “Sure.” I handed him the bottle. “You, too, Shixola. You look rather drained. Heads up, guys. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

  “Supposed to be,” Shixola said with a sigh. “Thanks for the Elixir, Sir Max. It costs a pretty penny, I know. Half a dozen crowns a bottle is no joke.”

  “Yep. That’s why I filch it from the boss’s desk,” I said.

  Our small crew was gradually increasing in number. The policemen—handsome, hefty lads to a man—materialized out of the predawn mists as though gathering for a war council. The pupils of their eyes shone slightly phosphorescent. That’s what the eyes of native Ugulanders, who can see perfectly in the dark, must look like, I thought. Their plain green looxis were damp with the dew. Their hair looked like it was tangled with tiny scraps of mist and the tender green shoots of the spring woods.

  I stared at them, entranced. These can’t be Boboota’s boys. Surely they’re elves of some sort!

  At that moment, I seemed to realize once and for all that I was a stranger in this World. And it seemed so wondrous it took my breath away.

  While I was gazing awestruck at my colleagues, I noticed their weaponry. It’s strange, but until then I hadn’t ever closely examined the most common firearm of my new homeland. The Baboom slingshot, which is used by all policemen (and scorned by Secret Investigators), is a fairly large metal slingshot that shoots tiny explosives. The deceptively small but powerful little pellets are stored in special leather pouches filled with a viscous, inedible fat.
This serves as an indispensable precaution since the pellets can explode from the slightest agitation, never mind a real blow. Every slingshooter wears special gloves to extract the pellets from the pouch.

  In spite of its seeming whimsicality, the Baboom slingshot is a rather dangerous weapon, which I have had the chance to observe on more than one occasion. Wounds caused by the exploding pellets are very, very serious. They take a long time to heal, and only then with the help of the local healers. A shot to the head means certain death, and a slingshooter with the slightest bit of real experience can’t fail to hit his mark. Their accuracy is simply mind-boggling. In addition, all three ends of the slingshot are sharpened, so if you run out of ammunition you can switch to hand-to-hand combat. True masters of the art make this transition with admirable grace and facility.

  Max, there’s a very foul trace here! Melamori’s panicky call struck me so suddenly that I shuddered. I can easily stand on it, but I feel such loathing toward it.

  Don’t do it on any account! I never suspected that I could scream so loudly in Silent Speech.

  Wouldn’t think of it. What should I do? Turn back?

  Better wait for me. I’ll be right there.

  I tore off into the underbrush, sending a call to Shixola on the way. Wait here. We’ll be back soon. You’ll hear from us if we need you.

  I flew blindly in what I thought was the right direction. How I managed not to get snared by a branch or plunge into a ditch, I don’t know to this day. My flight probably lasted no more than a minute.

  I’d never moved so fast in my life, and it was a personal record I’m not ever likely to break. At the end, I knocked poor Kamshi off his feet and finally screeched to a halt next to Melamori, who was sitting on her haunches nearby.

  Melamori was shaking from head to toe, but the felling of the hapless lieutenant coaxed a weak smile from her.

  “You can do that, too, Max? Why didn’t you say so?”