Free The Galaxy Builder by Keith Laumer Page B

secure."
     
    -
     
                "What happened to Marv?" O'Leary
inquired vaguely. "He was right behind us."
     
                "Inasmuch as the fellow is indigenous to
Aphasia II," Allegorus replied blandly, "it hardly matters."
     
                "But he was the nearest thing to a friend I
had in this nuthouse," Lafayette objected. He stepped out on the landing
and looked down through dust into darkness. At that moment a despairing cry
came from far below:
     
                "Al—gimme a hand. It's me, Marv, your old
sidekick—and it looks like they got me!"
     
                "He calls you 'Al'?" Allegorus
queried.
     
                "He thinks I'm some spook," Lafayette
explained briefly, then added, "I mean, they've got this superstition
about some weirdo with your name who pops out of the tower every three hundred
years and shakes everybody up. When I came out, they assumed I was him—or you,
if you're really the one they were expecting."
     
                Allegorus pulled at his chin. "Hmmm,"
he mused. "That's rather curious, actually, Lafayette, considering that
this is, as I mentioned, a spurious locus. It entered on its quasi-existence
less than an hour ago. Yet it has traditional memories of a long history. This
suggests a meddling hand. It is a matter I shall take up with the Council on my
return."
     
                "Sure, do that," Lafayette replied
absently, ducking as a dislodged stone fell past him to make a resounding smash
far below, followed by yells.
     
                "OK, Al, that did it. Thanks a bunch,"
Marv's now cheerful voice rang from below. "Oh-oh, here they come
again!" Marv's voice died away in a wail.
     
                "I've got to help him," Lafayette
said, ducking back as other, smaller stones fell rattling down the steps.
     
                "Stay here!" Allegorus said sharply.
"The lab is the only stable fix in this entire locus, which seems to be on
the verge of derealization. We'd best get back inside at once!"
     
                "Well," Lafayette stalled, "it
won't hurt to just sneak a look ..." As he took a cautious step sideways,
an egg-size rock impacted heavily against his skull just above the ear; he
pitched forward and tumbled down into the rolling dustcloud obscuring the
stairway.
     
                Out of the swirling dust a dim room
materialized; this time Frumpkin was nowhere to be seen. But another figure,
slim and graceful, hurried past.
     
                "Daphne!" O'Leary yelled, and lunged
after her. She seemed not to notice, pausing only to switch on a standing lamp
which illuminated a bulky easy chair in the depths of which, Lafayette saw with
a start, Frumpkin was curled asleep; he seemed to wake with a start, then waved
a negligent hand in dismissal, at which Daphne turned away. Except for an
expression of disappointment on her sweet face, she seemed just as O'Leary had
seen her last. He started after her and tripped. When he looked up, she was
gone.
     
                "Look here, Lafayette," Frumpkin said
testily, "this interference will have to stop!"
     
                Lafayette peered into the dimness but saw
nothing of Daphne; he tried to rise, but collapsed; his hands were painfully
restrained, he realized as he fainted.
     
    -
     
                The dungeon, Lafayette reflected, is,
as dungeons go, not too bad. No rats, and the straw is almost dry. The
manacles, on the other hand—or on both hands—are large and rusty. Perhaps too
large? He tried to slip his right hand through the broad iron bracelet; he
winced as the scaly corrosion rasped his skin, but maintained the pressure; his
hand was free, if a bit bloody—but the film of blood had helped lubricate it,
no doubt. The other hand came halfway and wedged tight.
     
                Perhaps, Lafayette told himself, thinking
frantically,