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They spent some time dying their hair. His red-bronze became a dark brown, and her hair, as black and glossy as a Polynesian maiden's, became corn-yellow.
"It's no improvement, but it's a change," he said. "So, now to a metalworker's."
The telephone books had given the addresses of several in this area. They walked to the nearest place advertising metalworking, where Kickaha gave his specifications and produced the money in advance. During his conversation, he had studied the proprietor's character. He concluded that he was open to any deal where the money was high and the risk low.
He decided to cache the Horn. Much as he hated to have it out of his sight, he no longer cared to risk the chance of Red Orc's getting his hands on it. If he had not carried it with him when he left the motel, it would be in the hands of the police by now. And if Orc heard about it, which he was bound to do, Orc would quickly enough have it.
The two went to the Greyhound Bus station, where he put the case and Horn in a locker.
"I gave that guy an extra twenty bucks to do a rush job," he said. "He promised to have it ready by five. In the meantime, I propose we rest in the tavern across the street from our palatial lodgings. We'll watch our hotel for any interesting activities."
The Blue Bottle Fly was a sleazy beer joint, which did, however, have an unoccupied booth by the front window. This was covered by a dark blind, but there was enough space between the slats for Kickaha to see the front of the hotel. He ordered a Coke for Anana and a beer for himself. He drank almost none of the beer but every fifteen minutes ordered another one just to keep the management happy. While he watched, he questioned Anana about Red Orc. There was so little that he knew about their enemy.
"He's my krathlrandroon," Anana said. "My mother's brother. He left the home universe over fifteen thousand Earth years ago to make his own. That was five thousand years before I was born. But we had statues and photos of him, and he came back once when I was about fifteen years old, so I knew how he looked. But I don't remember him now. Despite which, if I were to see him again, I might know him immediately. There is the family resemblance, you know. Very strong. If you should ever see a man who is the male counterpart of me, you will be looking at Red Orc. Except for the hair. His is not black, it is a dark bronze. Like yours. Exactly like yours.
"And now that I come to think of it ... I wonder why it didn't strike me before... you look much like him."
"Come on now!" Kickaha said. "That would mean I'd look like you! I deny that!"
"We could be cousins, I think," she said.
Kickaha laughed, though his face was warm and he felt anxious for some reason.
"Next, you'll be telling me I'm the long-lost son of Red Orc!"
"I don't know that he has any son," she said thoughtfully. "But you could be his child, yes."
"I know who my parents are," he said. "Hoosier farm folk. And they knew who their ancestors were, too. My father was of Irish descent- what else, Fi
"I wasn't trying to prove anything," she said. "I was just commenting on certain undeniable resemblances. Now that I think about it, your eyes are that peculiar leaf-green... yes, exactly like it... I'd forgotten ... Red Orc's eyes are yours."
Kickaha put his hand on hers and said, "Hold it!"
He was looking through the slats. She turned and said, "A police car!"
"Yeah, double-parked outside the hotel. They're both going in. They could be checking on someone else. So let's not get panicky."
"Since when did I ever panic?" she said coldly.
"My apologies. That's just my ma
Fifteen minutes passed. Then a car pulled up behind the police car. It contained three men in civilian clothes, two of whom got out and went into the hotel. The car drove away.
Kickaha said, "Those two looked like plainclothesmen to me." The two uniformed policemen came out and drove away. The two suspected detectives did not come out of the hotel for thirty minutes. They walked down to the corner and stood for a minute talking, and then one returned. He did not, however, reenter the hotel. Instead, he crossed the street.
Kickaha said, "He's got the same idea we had! Watch the hotel from here!" He stood up and said, "Come on! Out the back way! Saunter along, but fast!"
The back way was actually a side entrance, which led to a blind alley the open end of which was on the street. The two walked northward toward the rnetalworking shop.
Kickaha said, "Either the police got their information from Red Orc or they're checking us out because of Kleist. It doesn't matter. We're on the run, and Orc's got the advantage. As long as he can keep pushing us, we aren't going to get any closer to him. Maybe."
They had several hours yet before the metalworker would be finished. Kickaha led Anana into another tavern, much higher class, and they sat down again. He said, "You just barely got started telling me the story of your uncle."
"There really isn't much to tell," she said. "Red Orc was a figure of terror among the Lords for a long time. He successfully invaded the universes of at least ten Lords and killed them. Then he was badly hurt when he got into the world of Vala, my sister. Red Orc is very wily and a man of many resources and great power. But my sister Vala combines all the qualities of a cobra and a tiger. She hurt him badly, as I said, but in doing she got hurt herself. In fact, she almost died. Red Orc escaped, however, and came back to this universe, which was the first one he made after leaving the home world."
Kickaha sat up and said, "What."
His hand, flailing out, knocked over his glass of beer. He paid it no attention but stared at her.
"What did you say?"
"You want me to repeat the whole thing?"
"No, no! That final... the part where you said he came back to this universe, the first one he made!"
"Yes? What's so upsetting about that?"
Kickaha did not stutter often. But now he could not quite get the words out.
Finally, he said, "L-listen! I accept the idea of the pocket universes of the Lords, because I've lived in one half my life and I know others exist because I've been told about them by a man who doesn't lie and I've seen the Lords of other universes, including you! And I know there are at least one thousand and eight of these relatively small manufactured universes.
"But I had always thought... I still think... it's impossible... my universe is a natural one, just as you say your home universe, Gardzrintrah, was."
"I didn't say that," she said softly. She took his hand and squeezed it.
"Dear Kickaha, does it really upset you so much?"
"You must be mistaken, Anana," he said. "Do you have any idea of the vastness of this universe? In fact, it's infinite! No man could make this incredibly complex and gigantic world! My God, the nearest star is four and some light-years away and the most distant is billions of light-years away, and there must be others billions of billions of light-years beyond these!
"And then there is the age of this universe! Why, this planet alone is two and one-half billion years old, the last I heard! That's a hell of a lot older than fifteen thousand years, when the Lords moved out of their home world to make their pocket universes! A hell of a lot older!"
Anana smiled and patted his hand as if she were his grandmother and he a very small child.
"There, there! No reason to get upset, lover. I wonder why Wolff didn't tell you. Probably he forgot it when he lost his memory. And when he got his memory back, he did not get all of it back. Or perhaps he took it so for granted that he never considered that you didn't know, just as I took it for granted."