planet Aaia.’
‘You mean you!’
‘No, not me. My con is drabness. That would never do for you. You need to copy a confidence man with flair, good appearance, daring – the very qualities that you yourself possess, though in vestigial form.’
‘Gosh, Professor, is there really such a man upon this planet?’
‘There is, and you must observe him. That means standing fairly near him and watching what he does at all times. You must keep on watching until you have learned all of his mannerisms. Thus can you master the style and address of a master confidence man.’
‘Who is this guy?’ Berserker demanded.
‘His name is Edgar Loomis,’ Crompton said. ‘I will write down his address for you.’
16
From Loomis’s Journal:
Yesterday I attended the Cridrru Ball, one of the main events of the year. Everybody of any note in Cetesphe was there, including Elihu Rutinsky and several movie stars whose names I didn’t quite catch. I wanted to be seen there, of course, since it pays one to be seen, no matter what your line of work. But I had another motive as well. Miss Cissy Perturbsky was going to be there.
The ball was held in the Axiomatic Room of the Hotel Geometry. I drove up in a cerise Gonolini I had borrowed for the occasion, wearing a body stocking made up entirely of silverfoil ruffles.
But let me skip ahead to the good part – Cissy and I, alone together in one of the little bedrooms that adjoin the main ballroom. We had just slipped in on impulse; and now beneath a single dim spotlight, Cissy was smiling, peering at me with her pretty, lustful little cat’s face. We had met briefly last year at a party. Something had definitely passed between us at the time, but we had been taken up with other people and it had been inconvenient to follow up on what was, after all, an unspoken acknowledgement of a future possibility.
But here she was at last, slim-hipped and pert-breasted, just as I remembered her, and with that uptilt to the eyes that gave her so exotic an aspect and raised in me fantasies of slave and master games. Her lips were parted. She moistened them and said, ‘So … You have not forgotten me?’ Her faint Hungarian accent drove me near distraction. I mastered myself and said coolly, ‘Sure, baby, how you been keeping?’ (A touch of callousness, of brutal indifference, it’s the only way to play the game.)
Her eyes widened. Like a sleepwalker she came to me, and her arms clasped themselves around my neck.’ Her breasts pressed into my silverfoil ruffles, flattening them as she stretched herself on tiptoe to reach my downturned, sneering lips. It was a marvelous moment. And then somebody in the darkened interior of the bedroom sneezed.
We broke apart. I turned on the lights and saw a large blond man sitting in a love seat in one corner. He had a notebook in his hand and was scrawling in it with a pencil stub.
‘There had better be some good explanation for this,’ I gritted ominously.
The blond man stood up. I saw that he was very large indeed.
‘Just keep right on doing whatever you’re doing, bub,’ he said. ‘I’m studying you.’
‘Are you, indeed?’ I asked. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to be like you.’
Cissy had exited at this point. Better luck next time! I conversed with Billy Berserker, as he was called, and learned that someone called the Professor had sent him to study me. A few words of description were enough. That damnable Crompton!
‘Of course you can study me,’ I told Berserker, when it became obvious that I had no choice in the matter. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking around for a disciple, someone to pass on my precious store of knowledge to.’
‘How lucky that we met!’
‘Isn’t it, though? I will contact you soon and tell you what our course of study is to be. Just write your address and phone number on this piece of paper. Then go home and prepare yourself for really hard and challenging work.’
He
‘You mean you!’
‘No, not me. My con is drabness. That would never do for you. You need to copy a confidence man with flair, good appearance, daring – the very qualities that you yourself possess, though in vestigial form.’
‘Gosh, Professor, is there really such a man upon this planet?’
‘There is, and you must observe him. That means standing fairly near him and watching what he does at all times. You must keep on watching until you have learned all of his mannerisms. Thus can you master the style and address of a master confidence man.’
‘Who is this guy?’ Berserker demanded.
‘His name is Edgar Loomis,’ Crompton said. ‘I will write down his address for you.’
16
From Loomis’s Journal:
Yesterday I attended the Cridrru Ball, one of the main events of the year. Everybody of any note in Cetesphe was there, including Elihu Rutinsky and several movie stars whose names I didn’t quite catch. I wanted to be seen there, of course, since it pays one to be seen, no matter what your line of work. But I had another motive as well. Miss Cissy Perturbsky was going to be there.
The ball was held in the Axiomatic Room of the Hotel Geometry. I drove up in a cerise Gonolini I had borrowed for the occasion, wearing a body stocking made up entirely of silverfoil ruffles.
But let me skip ahead to the good part – Cissy and I, alone together in one of the little bedrooms that adjoin the main ballroom. We had just slipped in on impulse; and now beneath a single dim spotlight, Cissy was smiling, peering at me with her pretty, lustful little cat’s face. We had met briefly last year at a party. Something had definitely passed between us at the time, but we had been taken up with other people and it had been inconvenient to follow up on what was, after all, an unspoken acknowledgement of a future possibility.
But here she was at last, slim-hipped and pert-breasted, just as I remembered her, and with that uptilt to the eyes that gave her so exotic an aspect and raised in me fantasies of slave and master games. Her lips were parted. She moistened them and said, ‘So … You have not forgotten me?’ Her faint Hungarian accent drove me near distraction. I mastered myself and said coolly, ‘Sure, baby, how you been keeping?’ (A touch of callousness, of brutal indifference, it’s the only way to play the game.)
Her eyes widened. Like a sleepwalker she came to me, and her arms clasped themselves around my neck.’ Her breasts pressed into my silverfoil ruffles, flattening them as she stretched herself on tiptoe to reach my downturned, sneering lips. It was a marvelous moment. And then somebody in the darkened interior of the bedroom sneezed.
We broke apart. I turned on the lights and saw a large blond man sitting in a love seat in one corner. He had a notebook in his hand and was scrawling in it with a pencil stub.
‘There had better be some good explanation for this,’ I gritted ominously.
The blond man stood up. I saw that he was very large indeed.
‘Just keep right on doing whatever you’re doing, bub,’ he said. ‘I’m studying you.’
‘Are you, indeed?’ I asked. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to be like you.’
Cissy had exited at this point. Better luck next time! I conversed with Billy Berserker, as he was called, and learned that someone called the Professor had sent him to study me. A few words of description were enough. That damnable Crompton!
‘Of course you can study me,’ I told Berserker, when it became obvious that I had no choice in the matter. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking around for a disciple, someone to pass on my precious store of knowledge to.’
‘How lucky that we met!’
‘Isn’t it, though? I will contact you soon and tell you what our course of study is to be. Just write your address and phone number on this piece of paper. Then go home and prepare yourself for really hard and challenging work.’
He
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