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“This foreign woman you have been guarding—“ theCount said, turning sideways but still watching me from the corners of his eyes. “She had been of some help in organizing things, but is now putting us in an embarrassing position. There has been one attempt on her life and there will probably be others. The Radebrechen are an old and loyal family—her presence is a continued insult to them.” Then he pulled at his drink and delivered the punch line.
“I think that you can do the job she is doing. Just as well, and perhaps better. How would you like that?”
Without a doubt I was just brimming over with talent—or there was a shortage of revolutionaries on this planet. This was the second time within twelve hours that I had been offered a partnership in the new order. One thing I was sure of though—Angelovely’s offer had been sincere. Cassi Duke of Rdenrundt’s proposition had a distinctly bad odor to it. I played along to see what he was leading up to.
“I am honored, noble Count,” I oozed. “But what will happen to the foreign woman? I don’t imagine she will think much of the idea.”
“What she thinks is not important,” he snarled and touched his fingers lightly to the side of his head. He swallowed and got his temper back under control. “We ca
“It’s a good plan,” I agreed with wi
“You’re right. I only wish I was able to state it so clearly. You have a remarkable ability to turn a phrase.Bent.I’m going to write that down so I can remember it. The ends justify…”
He scratched away industriously on a note plate. What a knowledge of history he had—just the man to plan a revolution! I searched my memory for a few more old saws to supply him with, until my brain was flooded with a sudden anger. I jumped to my feet.
“If we are going to do this we should not waste any time, Count Rdenrundt,” I said. “I suggest 1800 hours tonight for the action. That will give you enough time to arrange for the capture of her guards. I will be in her rooms and will arrest her as soon as I have a message from you that the first move has succeeded.”
“You’re correct.A man of action as always.Bent.It will be as you say.” We shook hands then and it took all the will power I possessed to stop from crushing to a pulp his limp, moist, serpentine paw. I went straight to Angelina.
“Can we be overheard here?” I asked her.
“No, the room is completely shielded.”
“Your former boy-friend.CountCassi,has a snooper-detector. He may have other equipment for listening to what goes on here.”
This thought didn’t bother Angelic in the slightest. She sat by the mirror, brushing her hair. The scene was lovely but distracting. There were strong winds blowing through the revolution that threatened to knock everything down.
“I know about the detector,” she said calmly, brushing. “I arranged for him to get it—without his knowledge of course—and made sure it was useless on the best frequencies. I keep a close watch on his affairs that way.”
“Were you listening in a few minutes ago when he was making arrangements with me to kill your guards and throw you into the dungeons downstairs?”
“No, I wasn’t listening,” she said with that amazing self-possession and calm that marked all her actions. She smiled in the mirror at me. “I was busy just remembering last night.”
Women! They insist on mixing everything up together. Perhaps they operate-better that way, but it is very hard on those of us who find that keeping emotion and logic separate produces sounder thinking. I had to make her understand the seriousness of this situation.
“Well, if that little bit of news doesn’t interest you,” I said as calmly as I could, “perhaps this does. The rough Radebrechens didn’t send that killer last night—the Count did.”
Success at last.Angelina actually stopped combing her hair and her eyes widened a bit at the import of what I said. She didn’t ask any stupid questions, but waited for me to finish.
“I think you have underestimated the desperation of that rat upstairs. When you droned him with that bottle yesterday, you pushed him just as far as he could be pushed. He must have had his plans already made and you made his mind up for him. The sergeant of the guard recognized the assassin and co
Angelina had gone back to combing her hair while I talked, fluffing up the curls. She made no response. Her apparent lack of interest was begi
“Well—what are you going to do about it?” I asked, with more than a little note of peevishness in my voice.
“Don’t you think it’s more important to ask what you are going to do about it?” She delivered this line very lightly, but there was a lot behind it. I saw she was watching me in the minor, so I turned and went over to the window, looking out over the fatal balcony at the snowsummitted[?] mountain peaks beyond. What was I going to do about it? Of course that was the question here—much bigger than she realized.
What was I going to do about the whole thing? Everyone was offering me half-interests in a revolution I hadn’t the slimiest interest in. Or did I? What was I doing here? Had I come to arrest Angelina for the Special Corps? That assignment seemed to have been forgotten a while back. A decision had to be reached soon. My body disguise was good—but not that good. It wasn’t intended to stand up to long inspection. Only the fact that Angelina was undoubtedly sure that she had killed me had prevented her from recognizing my real identity so far. I had certainly recognized her easily enough, facial changes and all.
Just at this point the bottom dropped out of everything. There is a little process called selective forgetting whereby we suppress and distort memories we find distasteful. My disguise hadn’t been meant to stand inspection this long. Originally I had been sure she would have penetrated it by now. With this realization came the memory of what I had said the night before.A wickedly revealing statement that I had pushed back and forgotten until now.
You’re none of these things out of the past, I had shouted. None of these things… Angelina. I had bellowed this and there had been no protest from her.
Except that she no longer used the name Angelina, she used the alias Engela here.
When I tuned to faceher myguilty thoughts must have been scrawled all over my face, but she only gave me that enigmatic smile and said nothing. At least she had stopped combing her hair.
“You know I’m not Grav Bent Diebstall,” I said with an effort. “How long have you known?”
“For quite a while; since soon after you came here, in fact.”
“Do you know who I am—?”
“I have no idea what your real name is, if that’s what you mean. But I do remember how angry I was when you tricked me out of the battleship, after all my work. And I recall the intense satisfaction with which I shot you in Freiburbad. Can you tell me your name now?”
“Jim,” I said through the haze I was rooted in. “James diGriz, known as Slippery Jim to the trade.”