Part 17 (1/2)

The man's voice boomed again as he waved his cigar. It was the Plotmaster in silhouette, backlit as usual, so that Roger couldn't make out any of the finer details of the man's appearance. Somewhere, faintly, in the distance, Roger could hear a heavenly chorus-a Mormon Tabernacle Choir sort of sound.

Roger could still tell the Plotmaster was studying him critically.

NOT SURPRISED AT ALL.

the Plotmaster said at last, then took a puff on his cigar. Blue smoke curled upwards, encircling the all-nun band who marched upside-down above his head. The choir music was lost for a moment beneath the clatter of drums and the tooting of flutes.SO YOU DO REMEMBER ME?

AND YOU'VE ACCURATELY IDENTIFIED YOUR SURROUNDINGS!.

Oh, dear, Roger thought. He wasn't supposed to remember this fellow, was he? He hoped the Plotmaster didn't hold a grudge. Now that Roger considered it, the dark sil- houette of a man smoking a cigar could appear rather threatening.

”I'm afraid I do-remember you, that is,” Roger replied softly. ”Is this a problem?”

But the Plotmaster laughed.

PROBLEM?.

I LIKE TO THINK OF IT MORE AS A PLOT COMPLICATION.

AND, HEY!.

I LIKE TO USE PLOT COMPLICATIONS.

THEY DON'T CALL ME THE PLOTMASTER FOR NOTHING, b.o.o.bALA!.

Roger guessed he should be relieved. But this was all so strange- The Plotmaster snapped his fingers.

OF COURSE, I COULD CANCEL YOUR CONTRACT JUST LIKE THAT!.

Snap...

Snap...

Snap...

Snap...

Snap...

There was that echo again. Cancel his contract? Did that mean what Roger thought it meant?

The Plotmaster pointed his cigar at Roger. The ember on the stogie's end burned blue.

I'M THE BIG GUY AROUND HERE.

NEVER FORGET THAT.

AND IF ANYBODY EVER CROSSES ME,.

I CAN BE RUTHLESS!.

His booming declaration completed, the Plotmaster waved his cigar more casually, chuckling softly, as if he were making a joke with an old friend.

BUT, HEY!.

YOU REMEMBER ME,.

YOU'RE CURIOUS ABOUT ME.

SO YOU WANT TO ASK A QUESTION OR TWO?.

His voice lost its chuckle for an instant as he added: NOTHING TOO PERSONAL, NOW.

The Plotmaster laughed jovially, as if he and Roger were indeed best buddies. For some reason, Roger thought once again about what it might mean to have your contract cancelled.

The Plotmaster paused, waiting. The angelic choir sang expectantly.

Well, apparently, the big man wanted Roger to ask questions. And, in his time in the Cineverse, Roger had indeed come up with a few questions.

But being in front of the Plotmaster seemed to call for more than casual conversation.

There must be some question that Roger should ask first. What was really his biggest concern in all the Cineverse? There was the search for Captain Crusader, concern for his friends-but, really, overriding everything else was the woman who had led Roger into this quest.

That, then, would have to be his first question. ”Urn,” Roger began, ”about Delores-” But the Plotmaster had already started to speak again, as if he had forgotten he'd ever asked Roger to pose a question.

YOU'RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY I ASKED YOU HERE TODAY?.

The Plotmaster waved his cigar like a baton, conducting a silent and invisible orchestra, or maybe a very distant chorus.

ROGER, SWEETIE, BABY!.

POINT ONE: YOU REMEMBER ME.

POINT TWO: YOU'LL LEARN YOUR WAY AROUND THE CINEVERSE.

DO I NEED TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU?.

IT'S A WINNING COMBINATION. I'M EXPECTING BIG THINGS OF YOU,.

ROGER!.

What? Roger thought. He was even more confused than back when Delores used to try to explain the Cineverse. Why was he-Roger Gordon of Earth-some kind of winning combination? And, for that matter, he still hadn't asked the Plotmaster about Delores!

The Plotmaster coughed before Roger could think to frame another question.

THERE WAS SOMETHING ELSE, WASN'T THERE?.

the Plotmaster asked rhetorically. His hand reached down to a table that Roger would have sworn hadn't been there a moment before.