Its image haunted him as the curving corridor grew darker and then lighter again and then made a very sharp turn and unexpectedly emerged into a long, richly furnished room. He blundered a step forward before he saw there were three people at the far end and that one of them was Moe Brimstine. They weren’t looking his way and he could have ducked back out of sight easily enough, but he hurried it too much and brushed against a slim pillar topped by a small aquarium in which tiny pink, green and violet octopuses clung and swam. The pillar teetered dangerously. Stumbling as he grabbed to steady it, he fell out into the room with it and thudded into the foam flooring, as the water and the candy colored octopuses gushed all over.

AFTER a couple of seconds Phil decided regretfully that keeping himself scrunched against the yielding floor with both eyes tightly closed was not going to help. He opened them cautiously, blinked at the flooring, and tried to nerve himself to look up. Meanwhile:

“Brimstine, what’s keeping that FBL man?”

“Now don’t worry, Mr. Billig. He’ll be here any minute.” “I’m beginning to doubt it. What if they’re lying about sending a man, and actually they’re planning to raid us, counting on picking up the green cat when they do?”

“The government wouldn’t dare do that, Mr. Billig. They need the green cat, or they think they do.”

“Then why isn’t that FBL man here?”

“I tell you not to worry, Mr. Billig. Relax. Let Dora stroke your forehead.”

“Pfui!”

Considerably puzzled, Phil lifted his chin off the flooring and cautiously swiveled his head. The Mr. Billig he’d heard mentioned with so much awe turned out to be a very gaunt dark man who looked at first glance thirty, at second seventy, and at third a mystery to which youth-prolonging hormones might provide a clue. He was dressed in severely cut black sports togs. Moe Brimstine bulked a lot bigger, but only physically – his blunt manner had altered to that of a servant with clownish privileges. Even his black glasses now looked a trifle comic.

The other member of the trio was a breathtakingly beautiful violet blonde whose dress consisted of an endless spiral of fine silver wire over a white satin sheath. She was sitting on a table, watching the others with a cold smile. Mr. Billig was pacing steadily as if engaged in some kind of road-work, while Moe Brimstine was hovering behind him like an anxious trainer.

But to Phil the one overwhelming fact was that they weren’t paying any attention to him at all. Apparently his crashing with the aquarium into the room hadn’t been of enough importance to rate a glance – or if there had been a glance, it had been a mighty short one. Besides being utterly mystified and quite frightened, Phil felt a bit piqued.

“I don’t think you should take that attitude toward Dora, Mr. Billig,” Moe Brimstine was saying. “She’s a very clever girl; just how clever even you might enjoy finding out. Isn’t that right, Dora?”

“I am infinitely skilled in giving pleasure to men, women and children,” Dora said with a yawn. “Among other things I have memorized all the important pornographic books written since the dawn of history.”

“Pfui and trash! Brimstine, you still don’t seem to realize just how serious this is. I guess I should tell you that, according to my latest information, the government is all set to indict not only three of our governors and a half hundred of our mayors, but also four of our national senator and a dozen of our representatives.”

This news did seem to take Moe Brimstine aback. “But that’s the whole lot,” he said softly.

“Not quite, but almost,” Billig snapped.

“It would mean the absolute finish of Fun Incorporated.”

“And what have I been saying to you?” Billig demanded.

Phil sat up a bit morosely and settled his chin on the back of his right hand to watch them. This maneuver attracted no attention whatsoever. He gave up trying to figure it out.

Moe Brimstine had recovered his spirits with a happy shrug. “Anyhow, you’ve got the green cat, so you’re safe.”

“Have I got it?” Billig demanded, stopping his pacing. “How well have you got that cat locked up, Brimstine?”

“Look, Mr. Billig, I got it in a copper cage where nobody can get at it and it can’t get at nobody, even electronically. Besides, it’s still stunned. You can’t ask for more than that, can you?”

“Maybe not,” Billig allowed grudgingly. “But then I come back to my other point: How can we be sure the government needs the cat so badly they’ll be willing to quash all those indictments in exchange for it?”

“Now don’t worry about that, Mr. Billig. That’s one thing we can be sure of. We’ve known for at least a month that finding that cat has been the absolute top priority, top secret job of the FBL, the FBI and the special secret service.”

“But why should it be?” Billig was pacing again. “Just a funny colored animal. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Look, Mr. Billig, we’ve been all through this before. They’re absolutely convinced that cat is terribly dangerous. They think it can control minds and change personalities, and they seem to think they have cases to prove it, including four top officials who’ve managed to skip the country, apparently headed for Russia. They’ve taken all sorts of secret steps, not only to find the cat, but to guard the president and all important officials from any possible contact with it. As far as our information goes, the first government theory was that the cat came from Russia, that the Lysenko view of genetics was true and that the Russkies were able to breed intelligent animals with extrasensory powers, for use as spies and saboteurs and possibly to replace a large part of the world’s population. But now the government seems to believe that the cat is a mutant or monster of some sort and that it’s in a position to conquer America – the whole world even – by controlling feelings and thoughts.”

Phil sat up indignantly. He wanted to say, “Why, Lucky isn’t like that at all.” In his interest in the conversation, he had almost forgotten his incredible situation.

“I know, I know,” Billig was saying, “but what do you think about it, Brimstine?”

Brimstine shrugged. “I think they’re nuts,” he said happily. “The cat didn’t seem anything peculiar to me, though I’m taking no chances. I think it’s all a grade-A delusion, a top secret panic.”

“You think they’re nuts and you expect me not to worry,” Billig groaned. “Where’s that FBL man?”

“On his way.” Brimstine assured him. “Everything’s going to turn out all right.”

“That’s what you told me when the president first started to take action against Fun.” Billig flared. “You said it was just a bluff, a sop to the midwestern vote. You told me Barnes was a drunken farmer who could be got at twenty ways. You told me it would all blow over, like the other six times. Well, it didn’t. Something happened that changed things.”

“I know,” Brimstine admitted, seeming for once at a loss for easy words.

“Don’t you know yet what happened?” Billig pressed.

Brimstine shrugged. “I think Barnes is nuts.”

“That’s your explanation for everything!” Billig roared softly. “If something happens this time, do you suppose I’ll be happy because you tell me the coppers arresting me are nuts? Whereis the FBL man?”

“You really should try and relax, I tell you, Mr. Billig,” Moe Brimstine suggested, recovering himself. “Distract yourself somehow. Like with Dora here.” And ignoring Billig’s third, “Pfui,” Brimstine looked at her critically. “Fix your mouth, dear,” he said.

With a graceful obedience that nevertheless managed to be contemptuous the violet blonde beauty slid from the table and came straight toward Phil, who decided that now at last they’d have to stop pretending he wasn’t there.