The Stranger's Woes (45 page)

“I fear this is only the beginning,” I said gloomily after the heavy door had closed behind them. “Now they’ll find out where I live and pitch their tents under my windows.”

“Funny.” Juffin looked as happy as a kid who had just seen the traveling circus. “I don’t know why, but I liked all of this very, very much.”

“That’s because you’re a very, very mean person,” I said, “and it makes you happy to see other people suffer.”

“Right you are,” said Juffin. “Look, Max, could you do me a favor? Since you’re their king, could you tell them to change their headgear? Those headscarves are truly a shame. Why can’t they at least wear turbans or hats?”

“The lower the cultural level of a people, the stronger they cling to traditions,” said Lonli-Lokli.

“Perhaps,” said Juffin absently. “Well, this is all fine and dandy, but let’s get back to work. You two go ahead and bring me that master of disguise, Varixa Ariama. I want him alive and kicking, but if you scare the pants off of him—all the better.”

“Okay,” said Lonli-Lokli. “Let’s go, Max. Or do you prefer your royal name? After all, you chose it.”

“Oh, look who’s talking,” I grumbled, getting up from the chair. “You know that I’m no Fanghaxra.”

“That is irrelevant,” said Shurf. “If those people consider you their king, you
are
their king to a certain degree, and you have to accept the consequences.”

“To heck with the consequences,” I said. “Let’s go, already, philosopher.”

When we were outside, I hailed one of the official amobilers of the Ministry. The driver sighed and got out. All our employees had gotten used to the fact that I always drove the amobiler.

Then I heard some loud singing, coming from far away:

“What is it, Shurf?” I said.

“Oh, you haven’t heard it before? That’s our good friend Aloxto Allirox singing a new song about his feats to Lady Melamori Blimm on the Royal Bridge, if my sense of direction isn’t deceiving me.”

“What?” I was completely dumbfounded. “And she likes it?”

“I think she does. If she didn’t, she’d ask him to shut up. You know how Lady Blimm is.”

“I guess I do,” I said. “He’s a beautiful man, that ‘Master of two times fifty Sharptooths,’ but I couldn’t stand to listen to his singing.”

“To each his own,” said Lonli-Lokli. “Let’s go, Max. You say you don’t like the song, and yet you are standing here listening to it with your mouth agape. Don’t you think that’s a little inconsistent?”

“I do,” I said, laughing. “You’re so wise you scare me, Shurf.”

I grabbed the levers of the amobiler and we took off under the lyrical outpourings of Aloxto the scribbler:

“Un-be-
lievable
,” I said. “This is an ordinary case of disturbing the peace.”

“Is it upsetting you?” Shurf said cautiously.

“Oh, no. Not at all. This Aloxto is a great fellow. I’m happy that he and Melamori are not too bored with one another, and all that. But when I hear bad poetry I get furious.”

“Really?” said Shurf. “Is it really that bad? Frankly, I like Arvaroxian poets. Their poetry is marked by a peculiar masculine innocence, which endows their creative verses with palpable, primeval authenticity.”

I sighed. To each his own, indeed. It was useless to argue about taste with Sir Shurf Lonli-Lokli. He was equally versed in snuffing out “unnecessary lives” and unnecessary opinions. I had much to learn.

A few minutes later we stopped by a yellow two-story house on the Street of Bubbles. Lonli-Lokli carefully took off his protective gloves, revealing the death-dealing gloves underneath, gleaming in the twilight. The mad blue eye stared at me out of his left palm. I shivered—I still couldn’t get used to this novelty.

“Come on, Max. I hope he’s home. Lady Melamori won’t be too happy if she has to come here and step on his trace.”

“Right,” I said. “She won’t have the chance to listen to the end of the song.”

We entered the house trying to make as much of a racket as we could. It is thought that representatives of law enforcement organizations must be rude and have poor coordination. Only when these two conditions are met people do people agree to fear and respect us.

We did our best. I was so eager to make noise, stomping around with my boots, that my heels began to hurt.

An elegant young man looked out of the farthest room on the second floor. When he saw Lonli-Lokli, his jaw dropped in horror. Then he saw me and caved in completely. Frankly speaking, one of us would have sufficed for arresting Varixa Ariama, the former Senior Magician of the Order of the Brass Needle—he wasn’t such a big shot, after all—but the boss had the habit of going overboard from time to time.

“What is the matter, gentleman?” said the young man, his lips white.

“We must take you away from your business for a short while, Sir Ariama,” Lonli-Lokli said politely. “The Venerable Head of the Minor Secret Investigative Force will be much obliged if you find some time to visit him for a short discussion.”

“You must be looking for my father, Sir Varixa Ariama,” the young man said timidly. “I don’t know where he is now, but—”

“You should come with me, nevertheless.” Shurf was implacable. “Maybe this gentleman is telling the truth, and maybe he’s posing as his own son. This is often the case during an arrest,” he explained to me. “Sir Juffin will sort it out.”

“Then I’d better stay,” I said, “and send a call to Melamori. If this gentlemen is not the one we’re looking for, she’ll have some work to do here.”

“That would be wise,” said Shurf. He turned to the young man. “After you, sir. If what you say is true, the discussion will not take much of your time.”

And the poor fellow shuffled over to the door, followed by Sir Lonli-Lokli.

When I was alone, I took my time searching every room, making sure that there was no one else in the house. Then I came down to the living room and sent a call to Melamori.

I’m sorry to disturb you in the middle of a breathtaking performance
.
I’m at Number Fourteen
,
Street of Bubbles
,
and you and I may have some work to do here
.
Then again
,
we may not
.
Still
,
it would be better if you came down
.

All right
.
By the way
,
Aloxto has finished singing already
.
I’ll be right there
.
Over and out
.

I put my feet on the table, found a crumpled cigarette in the pocket of my Mantle of Death, and lit up.

To my surprise, Melamori arrived very quickly.

“If you drove here all the way from the Royal Bridge, it’s a record. Congratulations!” I said.

“No, just from the Victory of Gurig VII Square,” she admitted.

I did some quick math in my head. “Well, it’s impressive, so congratulations are still in order. Tell me, though, did you really like that horrible song?”

“Oh, I did like it, very much,” said Melamori, laughing. “I’ve never heard anything funnier in my life. What’s more, I also sang him a song about my exploits. I think it was quite a good parody. Aloxto took my parody very seriously, though. He was ecstatic.”

“So you had a great time,” I said.

“I’m trying, Max,” said Melamori. “I’m trying my best. I like Aloxto. He’s so beautiful and . . . different. Alien and strange. Exactly what I need right now.”

Max
,
that boy that Shurf brought in
,
he really is the son of Varixa Ariama
. Juffin’s Silent Speech interrupted our attempts to come to an understanding.
Is Melamori there already?

Yes
.
She just got here
.

Excellent
.
Try to find Ariama Senior quickly
.
I don’t think he’s hiding from us
.
Most likely
,
he just left on some errand
.
The best way to start tracking him down is to start from the bedroom
.
Ariama Junior says that his father was taking a nap there after dinner and then left
.
The bedroom is on the second floor
,
left of the stairs
.
Over and out
.

“Guess what? Let’s check out the bedroom,” I said to Melamori, and winked at her.

“What for?” She sounded surprised.

“What do you think?” I was going to go on with my stupid joke, but seeing Melamori’s face turn white, I realized I was being a jerk. “We’ll be looking for the trace of Sir Varixa Ariama. What else can one do in a bedroom?”