Part 18 (1/2)
”Back to the hotel. The first session isn't until ten, but I've got a breakfast meeting-”
”Breakfast meeting?”
”Yeah-you got any sober-ups?”
”I dunno. I'll have to look-”
”Never mind, I can get some at the hotel. Come on, get dressed-”
”Just a minute-” I sat there, rubbing my eyes. My head hurt. I granted him a temporary stay of execution while I reviewed the evidence. ”What's this all about? Where were you all night?”
”Painting the town black and blue. Come on-” He pulled me to my feet. ”-Into the shower with you. I did a party-walk-”
”Party-walk?”
”Is there an echo in here? Yeah, a party-walk.” He was punching up a cycle on the shower panel. ”Come on, get out of those-unless you're going to shower in your underwear.”
”Wait a minute-!” I started to sit down on the commode.
”We haven't got a minute.” And suddenly, he was lifting me up bodily, stepping into the shower and holding me under the running water. ”G.o.ddammit!” Not even a phone call from the governor would save him now. All I needed was a jar of honey, an anthill and four stakes.
My paper underwear was already shedding off. He handed me the soap, then shredded off his own sopping s.h.i.+rt. He peeled off his kilt-it was real-and tossed it out of the shower onto the bathroom floor.
I had to ask. ”Did you leave them somewhere?”
”Leave what?”
”Your underwear?”
”Never wear any. It's traditional. Nothing's worn under a kilt.” He grinned foolishly. ”Well, it's a little worn this morning, but give me a couple days-I'll be all right.”
I turned away from him, stuck my head under one of the shower heads and just stood there. Aahhh.
”Anyway-” he continued, ”-I went for a party-walk.” Maybe if I let the water run into my ears, I wouldn't be able to hear him. ”Only this time, I did it with a purpose. I started out on the main floor of the reception with Colonel Bustworthremember him? The one with the girl? He's a very important man to know-he's in charge of requisitions, supplies and transportation for the whole Denver area. He's the perfect bureaucrat-he makes the paper run on time. Anyway-Jim, stand a little closer to the soap! We're in a hurry! Anyway, I stuck with him long enough to get into a private party in the penthouse. The Conference Committee. Sat in the corner near three of the armpieces and listened to them gossip. In fifteen minutes I knew who was important in that room and who wasn't. Another fifteen minutes and they knew who I was-Senator Jackson's nephew from Mormon University!”
”Huh-?”
”Shut up and scrub-I haven't finished my story.”
”Ted, you can't tell lies like that-”
”How should I tell them?”
”You know what I mean. Not to congressmen and generals and G.o.d knows who else!”
”Jim, it didn't matter. No two of them were paying any attention to anything except what was coming out of their own mouths -or going in. And when they were ready to drift on to the next party, I drifted with them. And met another roomful of people and did it again. I listened to the gossip and picked out the most important-it's easy to tell, the gossip gets particularly nastyand got as close to them as I could. I went through seven parties that way, each one better than the last. There was a United Nations reception, just for the diplomatic corps-did you know half the world is here? Your Uncle Sam rented a ballroom-I met a senator over the guacamole dip-but it was the Communists who had the most lavish spread. They were in the Imperial Suite. And I even got into the Society for Wholesale Aggression; now, there's a weird bunch. But useful. Do you know how important mercenaries are to the balance of world power?”
”No, and I don't care.” On second thought: ”Do they do a.s.sa.s.sinations? And how much do they charge?”
”Only character-and if you have to ask, you can't afford it.” I started getting out of the shower, but Ted grabbed me. ”Wait a minute-you haven't heard the best part.”
”Yes, I have!”
He pulled me back into an affectionate hug. ”You're beautiful when you're angry-”
”Knock it off, Ted!”
”-and I love it when you play hard to get.” But he let me go. I stepped away hotly. The only thing keeping Theodore Andrew Nathaniel Jackson alive now was my inability to think of a convenient way to dispose of the body.
I stood under the shower again-he'd gotten soap all over my back. The spray was alternating between warm rain and hot needle-jets. ”I want you to cut that out, Ted.”
”You don't have to worry-everybody knows it's all over between us now, anyway. I met this girl last night, and let her 'cure' me. Oh, I didn't want to, Jim. I tried to be faithful-I told her I had made a solemn commitment-but she convinced me to try it once the other way-and she was right. That was all I needed.”
”Terrific. I'm very happy for you. You've not only convinced everybody I'm a f.a.g-now I'm a jilted f.a.g. And I don't even know how the whole thing started.” I turned around under the shower, lifting my arms to rinse underneath them. At the exact same moment, the water spray went icy-a sudden pummeling jackhammer of very cold water, the run-off from the local glacier. ”Aahhh!” said Ted. ”Doesn't that feel great? Doesn't that just wake you up?”
I couldn't answer. I was too busy swearing-I was out of the shower and s.h.i.+vering into a towel before the walls stopped echoing. I was now completely awake, and it didn't matter anymore whether I had a way to dispose of the body or not.
”Answer the door, Jim!”
”Huh?”
”The door-can't you hear the knocking?”
I grouched out of the bathroom and puddled over to the door. ”Yeah-?” I snarled.
It was a bony-looking woman with ba.s.sett-hound eyes. Why did she look familiar? Oh, yeah-the one who'd refilled Fromkin's drink. She'd been waiting on him all evening, now that I thought about it. ”Hi, Jim,” she said. ”We haven't been formally introduced-” She grabbed my hand and pumped it. ”-I'm Dinnie. Are you guys ready yet?” She had bad teeth.
”Uh-no.”
”Okay, I'll wait.” She swept past me and parked herself in the room's one chair.
”Uh-right. You do that.” I grabbed some clothes and retreated to the bathroom.
”G.o.d,” said Ted, stepping out of the shower bay. ”Isn't morning wonderful?” He poked me in the ribs as he pa.s.sed. ”Yeah.” I was thinking that no jury in the country would convict me. I pulled my clothes on quickly.
When I came out of the bathroom, Dinnie was just handing Ted a light brown T-s.h.i.+rt that said: NOT JUST ANOTHER LOVE STORY . . . ”Here,” she was saying, ”This will drive the women crazy. ”It shows off your muscles.”
”Especially the one between his ears,” I muttered. They ignored me.
Ted grinned and pulled on the s.h.i.+rt and a maroon windbreaker. He picked up his carryall and started for the door. ”Come on, everybody ready? Let's go.”
I grabbed my jacket and followed them. I squinted back sudden tears as we came out into the morning sun. I hadn't realized how bright Colorado could be in the daytime. Ted was already falling into the driver's seat of a long silver-- ”Ted! Where did you get this?”
”I told you. Colonel Bustworth is an important man to know. You like it?”
”Isn't it a little ... ah ... extravagant?”
”There is no such thing as a little extravagance,” Ted replied. ”Are you getting in?” He turned the key and the engine roared to life with a guttural rumble that rattled windows for a kilometer around.
I climbed into the back. Ted didn't even wait for me to close the door, just hit the acceleration and climbed into the air at an angle steep enough to scare the nickels out of my jeans.