My best bet, he decided, at this point–God forbid–is to join with Roni Fugate. Because she’s the one Leo is scared of, and for good reason. There must be a whole galaxy of things she’d do that I wouldn’t. And Leo knows it.
Reseating himself he had Roni paged, brought at last into his office.
“Hi,” she said brightly, colorful in her Peking-style silk dress, sans bra. “What’s up? I tried to reach you a minute ago, but–”
“You just never,” he said, “never have on all your clothes. Shut the door.”
She shut the door.
“However,” he said, “to give you your due, you were very good in bed last night.”
“Thank you.” Her youthful, clear face glowed.
Barney said, “Do you foresee clearly that our employer will murder Palmer Eldritch? Or is there doubt?”
Swallowing, she ducked her head and murmured, “You just reek with talent.” She seated herself and crossed her legs, which were, he noticed, bare. “Of course there’s doubt. First of all I think it’s moronic of Mr. Bulero, because of course it means the end of his career. The ’papes don’t–will not–know his motives for it, so I can’t guess; it must be something enormous and dreadful, don’t you think?”
“The end of his career,” Barney said, “and also yours and mine.”
“No,” Roni said, “I don’t think so, dear. Let’s consider a moment. Mr. Palmer Eldritch is going to replace him in the min field; isn’t that Mr. Bulero’s probable motive? And doesn’t that tell us something about the economic reality to come? Even with Mr. Eldritch dead it would appear that his organization will–”
“So we go over to Eldritch? Just like that?”
Screwing up her face in concentration, Roni said laboredly, “No, I don’t quite mean that. But we must be wary of losing with Mr. Bulero; we don’t want to find ourselves dragged down with him… I have years ahead of me and to some lesser extent so do you.”
“Thanks,” he said acidly.
“What we must do now is to plan carefully. And if precogs can’t plan for the future–”
I’ve provided Leo with info that’ll lead to a meeting between him and Eldritch. Had it occurred to you that the two of them might form a syndicate together?” He eyed her intently.
“I–see nothing like that ahead. No ’pape article to that effect.”
“God,” he said with scorn, “it’s not going to get into the ’papes.”
“Oh.” Chastened, she nodded. “That’s so, I guess.”
“And if that happened,” he said, “we’d be nowhere, once we left Leo and marched over to Eldritch. He’d have us back and on his own terms; we’d be better off getting out of the Pre-Fash business entirely.” That was obvious to him and he saw by the expression on Roni Fugate’s face that it was obvious to her, too. “If we approach Palmer Eldritch–”
“If?’ We’ve got to.”
Barney said, “No we don’t. We can stumble along like we are.” As employees of Leo Bulero, whether he sinks or rises or even completely disappears, he thought to himself. “I’ll tell you what else we can do; we can approach all the other Pre-Fash consultants that work for P. P. Layouts and form a syndicate of our own.” It was an idea he had toyed with for years. “A guild, so to speak, with a monopoly. Then we can dictate terms to both Leo and Eldritch.”
“Except,” Roni said, “that Eldritch has Pre-Fash consultants of his own, evidently.” She smiled at him. “You have no clear conception of what to do, have you, Barney? I can see that. What a shame. And you’ve worked so many years.” She shook her head sadly.
“I can see,” he said, “why Leo was hesitant at the idea of crossing you.”
“Because I tell the truth?” She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, perhaps so; everybody’s afraid of the truth. You, for instance–you don’t like to face the fact that you said no to that poor pot salesman just to get back at the woman who–”
“Shut up,” he said savagely.
“You know where that pot salesman probably is right now? Signed up by Palmer Eldritch. You did him–and your ex-wife–a favor. Whereas if you’d said yes you’d have chained him to a declining company, cut both of them out of their chance to–” She broke off. “I’m making you feel bad.”
Gesturing, he said, “This is just not relevant to what I called you in here for.”
“That’s right.” She nodded. “You called me in here so we could work out a way of betraying Leo Bulero together.”
Baffled, he said, “Listen–”
“But it’s so. You can’t handle it alone; you need me. I haven’t said no. Keep calm. However, I don’t think this is the place or the time to discuss it; let’s wait until we’re home at the conapt. Okay?” She gave him, then, a brilliant smile, one of absolute warmth.
“Okay,” he agreed. She was right.
“Wouldn’t it be sad,” Roni said, “if this office of yours were bugged? Perhaps Mr. Bulero is going to get a tape of everything we’ve said just now.” Her smile continued, even grew; it dazzled him. The girl was afraid of no one and nothing on Earth or in the whole Sol system, he realized.
He wished he felt the same way. Because there was one problem that haunted him, one he had not discussed with either Leo or her, although it was certainly bothering Leo, too… and should, if she were as rational as she seemed, be bothering her.
It had yet to be established that what had come back from Prox, the person or thing that had crashed on Pluto, was really Palmer Eldritch.
FIVE
Set up financially by the contract with the Chew-Z people, Richard Hnatt placed a call to one of Dr. Willy Denkmal’s E Therapy clinics in the Germanies; he picked the central one, in Munich, and began making arrangements for both himself and Emily.
I’m up with the greats, he said to himself as he waited, with Emily, in the swanky gnoff-hide decorated lounge of the clinic; Dr. Denkmal, as was his custom, proposed to interview them initially personally, although of course the therapy itself would be carried out by members of his staff.
“It makes me nervous,” Emily whispered; she held a magazine on her lap but was unable to read. “It’s so–unnatural.”
“Hell,” Hnatt said vigorously, “that’s what it’s not; it’s an acceleration of the natural evolutionary process that’s going on all the time anyway, only usually it’s so slow we don’t perceive it. I mean, look at our ancestors in caves; they were covered with body-hair and they had no chins and a very limited frontal-area brain-wise. And they had huge fused molars in order to chew uncooked seeds.”
“Okay,” Emily said, nodding.
“The farther away we can get from them the better. Anyhow, they evolved to meet the Ice Age; we have to evolve to meet the Fire Age, just the opposite. So we need that chitinous-type skin, that rind and the altered metabolism that lets us sleep in midday and also the improved ventilation and the–”
From the inner office Dr. Denkmal, a small, round style of middle-class German with white hair and an Albert Schweitzer mustache, emerged. With him came another man, and Richard Hnatt saw for the first time close-up the effects of E Therapy. And it was not like seeing pics on the society pages of the homeopape. Not at all.
The man’s head reminded Hnatt of a photograph he had once seen in a textbook; the photo had been labeled hydrocephalic. The same enlargement above the browline; it was clearly domelike and oddly fragile-looking and he saw at once why these well-to-do persons who had evolved were popularly called bubbleheads. Looks about to burst, he thought, impressed. And–the massive rind. Hair had given way to the darker, more uniform pattern of chitinous shell. Bubblehead? More like a coconut.
“Mr. Hnatt,” Dr. Denkmal said to Richard Hnatt, pausing. “And Frau Hnatt, too. I’ll be with you in a moment.” He turned back to the man beside him. “It’s just chance that we were able to squeeze you in today, Mr. Bulero, on such short notice. Anyhow you haven’t lost a bit of ground; in fact you’ve gained.”
However, Mr. Bulero was gazing at Richard Hnatt. “I’ve heard your name before. Oh, yes. Felix Blau mentioned you.” His supremely intelligent eyes became dark and he said, “Did you recently sign a contract with a Boston firm called–” The elongated face, distorted as if by a permanent optically impaired mirror, twisted. “Chew-Z Manufacturers?”
“N-nuts to you,” Hnatt stammered. “Your Pre-Fash consultant turned us down.”
Leo Bulero eyed him, then with a shrug turned back to Dr. Denkmal. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
“Two! But–” Denkmal gestured protestingly.
“I can’t make it next week; I’ll be off Terra again.” Again Bulero eyed Richard and Emily Hnatt, lingeringly, then strode off.