Made with fresh turnips, diced onions, zabinga leaves, a touch of-"

"Ho!" exclaimed the catman suddenly. "Can this old gentleman I see before me be none other than Captain Fireball?"

Fireball's head bobbed. "Perhaps you were an admirer of mine during my heyday, sir? I was the best-known and, I have to admit, the best-loved highwayman of my generation. The pamphlets and books they wrote of me numbered in the hundreds. One of them, A Narrative of the Remarkable Life of the Notorious Captain Fireball, Giving an Exact Description of His Robberies, Escapes, etc.

and Based on Previously Unknown Facts, was on the Laranja Times Literary Supplement's Bestseller list for eighteen weeks in a row,"

Spong!

Hawkes had slammed his aluminum fist against a wooden ceiling-support post. "I want no more badinage," he shouted. "Fireball, you doddering mum-blecrust, I'll have my meal in the master suite.

Angel, join me."

"Nay." She shook her red-head. "I must look after my guests, Johnny."

The flesh part of the huge robber's face flushed. "So be it!" Spinning on his metal leg he went thumping up a wooden staircase.

"There are quarrels in the best of households," said the old highwayman. "Make yourselves comfortable while I prepare the repast."

Squinteye poked the squire on the elbow. "You look to be a bloke with some taste."

Silcote answered, "In my own small way, sir, I-"

"I'll show you my collection, then."

"Collection, sir?"

"I'm not in this game merely for the cash," said Squinteye Jim. "I am also a hobbyist. Do you know what I collect?"

"I cannot venture to guess."

"Snuffboxes."

"Indeed, sir?" The catman pressed a paw to his vest pocket "How many of them have you?"

"Nine hundred and seven to date, and each one has a story related to it." He gave the squire another nudge. "You'll enjoy looking at them, I wager."

"Yes, sir, of course."

When the two were gone the Scarlet Angel said, "Squint is the more understanding of my two comrades of the road. He sensed I wanted to be alone with you, sweet Palma."

"Understanding? He's the one who wants to slice away portions of me."

"He has a vicious side, but he's a deal more accommodating than Johnny." She seated herself on a window bench beneath a leaded window. "Join me."

Palma sat. "I get the impression you and Hawkes-"

"You know how it is when people work side by side." She stroked his head, rubbing away raindrops. "Friendships are bound to develop."

"Throats are bound to get cut."

"Johnny won't harm you, long as he knows I care for you," the Scarlet Angel a.s.sured him. "Soyou need not-"

"Yow!"

Thunder had whammed in the courtyard, shaking the windows.

"Forgive me, I seem to have, in my unreasoning fear, clutched your gullyraker yet again."

Palma scanned the dining room. "Do you have a room of your own, Angel?"

"Yes, I do, dear Palma."

"It has, I trust, a door and a lock?"

"Oh, yes."

"Let's go there."

CHAPTER 11.

"They've left him to rot," said the thin catman. "Same as they left me to rot. They left Clark to rot, and he rotted. They left Estling to rot, and he rotted. They left Ruyle to-"

"Ruyle didn't rot," interrupted the white-bearded man in the corner. "He hanged himself with his suspenders. You're thinking of Wollter. He rotted,"

"Ruyle tried to hang himself with his suspenders," said the catman. "But his suspenders were too elastic and he succeeded only in bouncing up and down between the rafter and the floor. They cut him down, and eventually he rotted. You're getting fuzzy in the upstairs, Dr. Yach."

"Perhaps I am. G.o.d bless the king!"

"You're doing pretty well today," a bright-haired young man said to Summer. "You're able to crawl and stumble unaided. That's not bad after all those sessions in the Torture Department."

Summer was on the floor of a cell. It didn't feel like his own. "Did you guys move in with me?" he said, voice a little quavery.

"Other way around; they tossed you in here with us."

The catman shuffled nearer. "Left you to rot," he explained. "Same as Manzano, who was left here to rot and he rotted. Or take the case of Dugas, they left him here to rot and he rotted."

"You're too gloomy, Hesslin," complained Dr. Yach. "Of all the people I've shared this hole with during my eighteen years of unjust imprisonment in St Charlie's you are the most gloomy."

"Come now, Doctor. I'm no more gloomy than Mossbarger."

"True, Mossbarger was quite gloomy. I'd forgotten him."

"Your once n.o.ble mind is on the skids, Doc."

"Perhaps so. G.o.d bless the king!"

The bright-haired young man asked, "Would you like me to help you sit up?"

"Sure, I might as well."

"My name is Angus Hare." He aided Summer into a sitting position against one of the cell's stone walls.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Jack Summer."

"Yes, I know." Hare smiled and frowned at the same time. "You really are pleased to meet me?"

"I'm not clapping my hands and shouting whoopee, but I'm not saddened by the encounter either."

"Well, you have a much grander nature than I expected," said young Hare. "I suppose you've become used, hearing so much of it, to criticism. So that you're not touched by what I've been saying about you in The People's Trumpet of Truth-Kings Must Die Weekly Sun."

"What have you been saying?"

The young man blinked. "I'm Angus Hare."

"That part I comprehend. I wasn't, though, aware you-"

"Ah, I see, Mr. Summer, you're pretending not to have read my reviews of your work. No doubt it helps you to avoid the deep hurts of having all your faults and inadequacies as a writer exposed topublic scrutiny."

"I suppose it would," said Summer. "What I'm trying to tell you is I've never read your paper, or your reviews.

"That hardly seems likely, Mr, Summer. We faithfully sent two copies of each of my reviews to Muckrake. Surely-"

"Why did they move me into this cell?" Summer asked Hesslin.

"So you can rot."

"Could you give me a few more details?"

Dr. Yach said, They're no doubt through experimenting with you. You've been dumped here, therefore. Here you'll stay."

"Somebody's bound to come looking for me," said Summer.

There are no easily accessible records of this wing of St Charlie's," said the bearded old man.

"Anyone inquiring for you will be told either that you died or that you were discharged and they have no idea where you went thereafter."

That won't work. My-"

"It's worked in my case. I was put here eighteen years ago because I firmly believed ... G.o.d bless the king!... that a monarchy was best for Laranja East. A dangerous idea to advocate openly in those days."

"Laranja East is a monarchy."

"Now, yes." Dr. Yach nodded sadly. "I'm no longer dangerous, but unfortunately I'm forgotten. I doubt I'll ever leave this room."

"Who is being gloomy now?" said Hesslin.

"You must have seen my review of your expose of the Neptune situations," said young Hare. "

'Another Mediocre Mess of Reportage from the Barnum System's Most Overrated So-called Muckraker' was the t.i.tle of the review."

"A catchy t.i.tle, but I missed it." Summer folded his hands over one knee. "There must be a grapevine in St. Charlie's, if it's like most inst.i.tutions. So news can get around, and outside."

"We have ways of finding out what's happening inside the walls," said the catman. "Getting any word out is nigh impossible."

"Thinker brings us inside news and carries messages," said Dr. Yach.

"Thinker?"

"A robot," sneered Hare. "Not a very efficient one either. Runs on steam, which as anyone knows is-"

"Thinker's been a dear friend to me since you were in rompers," said Dr. Yach. "He's the robot who brings our meals, Mr. Summer. Like myself, he was meant for better things and has been left to waste away in the bowels of St. Charlie's."

"I never wore rompers," said Hare. "Whatever they might be."

"I'm trying to locate Dr. Ferrier," Summer told them. "Is he in St. Charlie's?"

"Right you are," said Hesslin. "They've got him."

"Where is he?"

"Right here on subfloor four. They tossed him down here to rot."

"I'm a.s.suming that, like us, Dr. Ferrier is not crazy," said Summer.

"Not at all," said the bearded old man. "It seems he is, however, dangerous to the present government I wonder sometimes if even a monarchy is-"

"Dangerous how?"

"We don't have many details," said the catman. "Thinker has a hunch Dr. Ferrier is in St Charlie's because of something he invented."

Summer looked across at the thick door. "Something he invented ... how the h.e.l.l does that tie in?"

"How's that again?" asked the doctor.

"Nothing." Summer was still watching the door. "I'm still a little vague on time. Think I pa.s.sed outa few times. How long have I been bunking with you?"

"Three days," replied Hare.

"Three days? Then she's not going to do anything."

"Who?"