"Good for you," said the Countess Krak. "With a menace like that around, I wouldn't think of distracting you. I may be a while. These pot users don't never answer straight."
"Ain't that a fact," said the security guard. "But if I hear anything that sounds strange, I'll be up."
She went in. She got in the elevator. She went up. She got out into a hall.
Another security guard!
He was standing outside the door. "You can't go in there," he said.
She flashed her I.D. "Your man down at the door verified me. Step in and call him if you don't believe it."
"They're raising hell in there," he said. "Sex orgy. But all right. I'll call." He shifted his riot gun and opened the door.
A blast of sound came out. Neo Punk Rock! Passionate cries!
The guard went in. Krak followed. They entered a hall. The living room beyond, was visible through another door.
Directory service gave me the number I needed. I dialled it urgently. If only I could get that phone to ring before the guard made his call, I would be victorious and the Countess Krak dead!
The guard picked his way through the living room. And the picking had to be careful.
The floor was carpeted with writhing, entwined bodies. Cries and groans punctuated the shattering Neo Punk Rock.
The guard's expression was diffident as he stepped over and amongst the writhing bodies.
The phone sat unringing on the table.
My finger was flying on the dial.
The Countess Krak was looking into her pocket. I could not see what the security man was doing. She was getting something out.
I connected with the number!
The Countess Krak was reaching for the inner door. She pitched something into the living room, remained in the hall and closed the door on the scene.
I heard the phone ring in there!
I was in time. He had not yet placed his call.
My phone went live. The Neo Punk Rock was pouring through it with the cries and yells. "Eagle Eye Security," came the voice.
"This is a Fed. For Gods' sakes, that policewoman..."
WHONK!
The sound came through my phone.
A streak of blue appeared around the cracks of the inner door she had closed on the scene.
A BLUEFLASH!
"Hello!" I screamed into the phone.
Only Neo Punk Rock came back. "WHEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!"
The Countess Krak opened the living room door.
The record player was stuck in the last groove, just scratching.
She counted the bodies on the floor, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
The security man was collapsed across the phone taboret, the instrument fallen from his drooping hand. A twinge of fear gripped me. She had heard that phone ring!
She walked over to it. She plucked the instrument from the floor. She put it to her ear!
"Who is this?" she said.
I went into total shock!
I was in direct communication with the Countess Krak!
She was talking to me!
Oh, Gods, my blood pressure went out of my head and splattered all over the ceiling.
I was on the verge of discovery by the deadly Countess Krak!
"Who is this?" she repeated. "I can hear you breathing."
Jesus! I quickly held my breath!
Could she hear my heart beating, too?
Maybe she could trace the call! She was posing as a policewoman. Maybe she would arrest me for vice!
Believe me, it was real terror. I had her on the viewer. She had me on the phone!
I was suddenly terrified that I might start babbling.
A brilliant idea hit me! I should put down the phone and hang up.
I couldn't unlock my arm muscles.
With the violent concentration that comes sometimes in threats to life, I made my muscles work.
I got the instrument down on the cradle and, with superhuman effort, unlocked my fingers.
I sank back, staring at the viewer with glazed eyes. She had almost had me!
What would she do now that she knew I was in New York? What would she do when she realized that it was I who was hounding her?
SHE WOULD KILL ME!
My hands began to shake. The corpse of the yellow-man she had killed back on Voltar was where the viewer should have been. He was staring at me with sightless eyes. He said... No, it was Torpedo. He was saying...
"Wait a minute, Gris," I said. "This is no time to go crazy."
"Who is this?" I said.
"This is Officer Gris of the Voltar Coordinated Information Apparatus, on duty as Section Chief of Section 451, Blito-P3. How are things going?"
"Terrible," I said. "How is Lombar Hisst these days?"
"Oh, he's fine," I said. "Has hunting been good in the Blike Mountains?"
"Only passable. Now that I have become Heller..."
"SHUT UP!" I screamed.
It didn't do any good. Another voice was in the room!
"What in the name of Christ are you shouting about now, Inkswitch?" It was Adora. "You shouldn't be watching TV programs with violence in them if they're going to make you scream."
Usually I hated it when she burst in on me. This time it was welcome. They were home.
She shut the door.
What little sanity I could rally mustered to my aid.
I watched the viewer.
The Countess Krak was searching the apartment, opening cabinets-looking for letters? Papers? Oh, was I glad to have never had anything to do with these women directly! She had apparently found nothing to tell her what she wanted to know.
Then I noticed something absolutely horrible. The gloves! She had drawn on a pair of Zanco SURGICAL GLOVES! She was giving the cuffs a tentative tug as she approached the mass of entwined bodies. Was she going to cut them to pieces? Oh, the poor, helpless victims, lying there unconscious in the pitiless stare of this archfiend! I hushed my breathing. She was speaking.
"My goodness," she muttered, "these primitives certainly can get tangled up on the subject of sex."
She didn't seem to know how to go about straightening them up. Finally she plowed in. She grabbed a Hispanic's ankles and dragged him out and propped him against the wall. Then she got a black by the wrists and dragged him over to the row she was making. She kept at it in an orderly way.
She got the head of Dolores out from between the legs of Toots Switch and propped the two of them in the line.
"Ugh," she said, looking down at the last body left on the rug, Maizie Spread. "You primitives don't even bathe!" She dragged Maizie over and added her to the line. She stared at the three women she had now propped up at the end. "Oh, dear, how I wronged Jettero! He'd never even touch such carrion!"
She reached out to get a chair. There was something on it and she started to toss it aside. Then she looked at it again.
It was a peculiarly shaped pillow with straps on it. She whipped her gaze over to Maizie Spread slumped against the wall.
"Why, you crooked slut!" she said. "You weren't even pregnant!"
And sure enough, the stomach of Maizie Spread was flat as a table top!
"Well, we'll soon find out," said the Countess Krak, "who put you up to this!"
She reached into the case she carried. She was pulling something out.
THE HYPNOHELMET!
Oh, Gods, I was done for, for sure.
What did these girls know?
Oh, if only I had suspected this, I could have placed myself within two miles and, due to the relay breaker switch in my skull, that hypnohelmet would not have worked! But it was too late now to try to go rushing the miles and miles from where I was to the Bronx. On the other hand, I was quite sure that it would have taken far more nerve than I could muster to come any closer to the dangerous Countess Krak!
She switched it on. She went to the first young man in the line and plopped it indifferently upon his lolling head. I was amazed. I had not realized a hypnohelmet would work through the unconsciousness of blueflash. Apparently it made no difference. She plugged in the microphone.