“How right you are. And right on the other side of the town wall is-what? I’m betting on women. Either that or an awful lot of cloning is going on in this place. I’ll bet on nature and some kind of connection through the wall.”
My jawphone buzzed and Tremearne’s voice echoed inside my sinuses. “I agree with Steengo. And so does Madonette. She’s already on her way along the wall to the city and will report as soon as she finds out anything. ”
I started to protest, realized the futility, kept my mouth shut. “It figures,” I said. “The gang in charge here lie about everything else-so lying about the artifact just comes naturally. We’ll have to wait . . .”
I shut up as Veldi knocked quietly, then opened the door. “Good news!” he announced, eyes glowing with passion. “Iron John has chosen to speak to The Stainless Steel Rats-in the Veritorium itself. An honor above all other honors. Hurry, gentlemen. But first brush your clothing and, with the exception of heroically-bearded Floyd, diple the five o’clock shadow now gracing your musical jaws. What pleasures do await you!”
Pleasures better lived without. But this was a royal command and no way to get around it. I took a bit of diple-fast and rubbed my jaw smooth, combed my hair and tried not to scowl at myself in the mirror. I was the last to emerge and we boarded the Transport of Delight in silence, rolled ponderously to our destiny.
“I wonder why all three of us?” Steengo said, sipping his glass of chilled wine. “Last time it was you alone at the training-film session, wasn’t it, Jim?”
“I have no idea,” I said, wanting to change the subject. Nor was I too pleased with his light-hearted attitude. I tried to think about Madonette going in alone to the other city, but my thoughts kept trundling back to Iron John. What was going to happen now?
When we entered the Veritorium I was surprised at how big it really was. It was better lit now and I saw that rows of seats reached up in a semicircle. They were all filled now with the oldest collection of Paradisians I had seen so far. Bald heads and gray hair, wrinkles and toothless jaws.
Iron John himself stepped forward to greet us. “You are all truly welcome here-and these seats are for you.” They were three of the best in the front row-separated from the others. “You are our honored guests, musical Stainless Steel Rats. This occasion is a special one-specially so for young James diGriz. You are the youngest man here, Jim, and very soon you will find out why. Your companions will, I am sure, watch with pleasure. Not only pleasure but I sincerely hope that they will learn by observation. Now we begin . . .”
Cued by his words the lights died and darkness filled the Veritorium. Footsteps sounded in the darkness, and there was a small laugh. Light appeared and I saw the small boy hurry forward, stumbling a bit under the weight of the box he was carrying. He put it down and opened the lid, took out a top that started spinning when he touched its switch. Then he took out a tray of blocks, started to build a tower with them. When it was high enough he turned to take another toy out of the box. He was a very concentrated, very intense young boy, about eight years old. He rummaged deeper in the box, then looked around with a childish frown.
“Don’t hide, teddy,” he said. Looked behind the toy box, then into it again and then-with sudden determination-turned and hurried off. He vanished from sight but I could hear his footsteps going away, stopping. Then coming back. Carrying a teddy bear. A commonplace, slightly worn, very ordinary teddy bear. He propped it against the toy box and started building a second tower from the blocks.
The scene grew lighter and I realized we were back in the castle courtyard. The boy was alone-or was he? Something was there in the darkness, a shape that grew clearer.
It was an iron cage and, sitting silently, inside it was Iron John. The boy shouted and knocked over the block towers, ran to pick up the strewn blocks. Looked at Iron John, then away. The cage and its occupant must be a familiar sight to him.