Knowing the Lords, Kickaha felt it was likely that Red Orc would torture Wolff and Chryseis first, even though he had only to administer a drug which would make them tell whatever Orc asked for. After that, he would torture them again and finally kill them.
He would do the same with Anana. Even now. . .
He shuddered and said, “No!”
Rodriga opened her eyes and said, “What?”
“Go back to sleep,” he said, but she sat up and hugged her knees to her breasts. She rocked back and forth and said, “Something is bugging you, amigo. Deeply. Look, I don’t want to bug you, too, but if there’s anything I can do . . .”
“I’ve got my own thing to do,” he said.
He could not involve her in this even if she could help him in any way. She would be killed the first time they contacted Red Orc’s men. She wasn’t the fast, extremely tough, many-resourced woman that Anana was. Yes, that’s right, he said to himself. Was. She might not be alive at this very moment.
Tears came to his eyes.
“Thanks, Rod. I’ve got to be going now. Dig you later, maybe.”
She was up off the floor then and said, “There’s something a little strange about you, Paul. You’re young but you don’t use our lingo quite right, you know what I mean? You seem to me to be just a little weird. I don’t mean a creep. I mean, as if you don’t quite belong to this world, I know how that is; I get the same feeling quite a lot. That is, I don’t belong here, either. But it isn’t quite the same thing with you, I mean, you are really out of this world. You aren’t some being off a flying saucer, are you now?”
“Look, Rod, I appreciate your offer. I really do. But you can’t go with me or do anything for me. Not just now. But later, if anything comes up that you can help me with, I sure as hell will let you do something for me and be glad to do so.”
He bent over and kissed her forehead and said, “Hasta la vista, Rodriga. Maybe adios. Let’s hope we see each other again, though.”
Kickaha walked until he found a small restaurant. As he ate breakfast he considered the situation.
One thing was certain. The problem of the Beller was solved. It did not matter whether Kickaha or Orc killed him. Just so he was killed and the Bellers forever out of the way.
And Red Orc now had all but one of his enemies in his hands, and he would soon have that last one. Unless that enemy got to him first. Red Orc had not been using all his powers to catch Kickaha because his first concern was the Beller. But now, he could concentrate on the last holdout.
Somehow, Kickaha had to find the Lord before the Lord got to him. Very soon.
When he had finished eating, he bought a Times. As he walked along the street, he scanned the columns of the paper. There was nothing about a girl being kidnapped or a car on Wilshire with the bottom halves of the left wheels sliced off. There was a small item about the police sighting Paul J. Finnegan, the mystery man, his getting away, and a resume of what was known about him in his pre-1946 life.
He forced himself to settle down and to think calmly. Never before had he been so agitated. He was powerless to stop the very probable torture of his lover and his friends, which might be happening right now.
There was one way to get into the Lord’s house and face him. If he gave himself up, he could then rely upon his inventiveness and his boldness after he was brought before the Lord.
His sense of reality rescued him. He would be taken in only after a thorough examination to make sure he had no hidden weapons or devices. And he would be brought in bound and helpless.
Unless the Lord followed the custom of always leaving some way open for an exceptionally intelligent and skilled man. Always, no matter how effective and powerful the traps the Lords set about their palaces, they left at least one route open, if the invader was perceptive and audacious enough. That was the rule of the deadly game they had played for thousands of years. It was, in fact, this very rule that had made Red Orc leave the gate in the cave unguarded and untrapped.