Tubular Android Superheroes Page 12

  to the Daise Mansion. I spoke to Davenport on the squawk box. He sounded surprised to hear from me, but he let me in through the wrought-iron gates without argument. He came outside to watch me drive up. Something was wrong with his face. I said, "Everything all right?"

  He hesitated and said, "It would seem so, sir."

  "I didn't know robots had feelings."

  Davenport said, "I am a very expensive model, sir," as if that explained everything. His face still looked lopsided.

  "Can I come in or will Mr. Daise be joining us here on the steps?"

  With a gesture that was nearly human, Davenport nodded and said, "Please come in. Mr. Daise is waiting for you in the library."

  Bill and I walked through the hardwood and silence. Davenport knocked on the library door and a voice from inside told the knock to come in. Davenport watched us closely as we entered.

  It was the same library with the same dust sifting through the light that fell slanting from the high windows. A man was sitting at the desk at the end of the room, studying a large book through half-glasses. He was dressed in a suit so dark that it made his white shirt seem to be made of neon. His tie had splashes of crimson on it that matched the display handkerchief in his pocket. He was handsome for an Earthman, with crafty eyes and a chin like an anvil. I knew those eyes and that chin from someplace.

  The man looked up and in a practiced voice of command said, "Come in, Marlowe. Have a drink." He swept his hand at a silver tray that held a square brown bottle and three glasses, one of them half full.

  I said, "I thought Mr. Daise was in here."

  The man made a big, enthusiastic laugh that reddened his face and shook the room before it crashed into a hacking cough. The man sputtered as he put the cough out in his drink. He glanced at me as he wiped his face with his handkerchief and almost started to laugh again. Instead he said, "What's the matter, Marlowe? Don't you recognize me?"

  I didn't recognize him, but I did recognize the family resemblance to his daughter. The eyes. The chin. Bill sat in a leather wing chair and swung his legs while I approached the desk. I said, "The first time I saw you, you looked like a lobster. A few days ago you looked like a camel. It's kind of a shock to see you with only two legs and wearing clothes."

  "I got tired of playing games."

  "And now?"

  He sipped his drink and gently closed his book as if it were made of eggshells. "You asked to see me, I recall."

  I had, but now I wasn't sure I should ask him the questions I had in mind. Davenport's face wasn't the only thing lopsided at the Daise mansion today. Mr. Daise's new appearance was part of it, but something else was wrong too. After thinking all that, I just barreled right ahead. Casually, just discussing the weather, like, I said, "I understand you're meeting with Mr. Will in a few days at the lab."

  "You understand how?"

  "That's confidential. So far."

  "It doesn't matter," Mr. Daise said generously. "I don't know anything about such a meeting."

  "Or about the lab?"

  "No."

  "You do remember Mr. Will, don't you? You had him followed."

  He frowned at that, working it out. Then he smiled and said, "Of course I remember him. We're going into business together."

  He might as well have shot me in both knees. I felt for the chair behind me and sat down hard. His expression never changed while I gripped the arms and caught my breath and tried to understand what he'd just said. I sniffed the air. No credulity gas was in it. I would have smelled it when I came in if there were. But I sniffed just the same. A little stupidly, I said, "You and Iron Will are going into business together?"

  He got very enthusiastic, like a kid talking about his paper route. "Not actually together, but we've made an agreement. Surfing Samurai Robots is no longer going to make their top-of-the-line models. Androids are so much more practical. But keep it to yourself till tomorrow, after I make the announcement." He winked at me. We were just two tycoons in gravy up to our chins.

  To assure myself that the Mr. Daise before me was nothing like the Mr. Daise I'd met anytime before, I said, "What about the credulity gas?"

  "What about it?"

  "Last I heard, it was a crime against man. God, and nature."

  "Something in the smog." He winked at me again. "And lucky for us. It's good for business."

  I nodded, trying to stay calm, and said, "Anything else new?"

  "I don't follow."

  I stood up and said, "Mr. Daise, it's been a pleasure talking to you. Always an education."

  "Come again anytime," he called after me, and started to laugh again.

  I grabbed Bill on the way out and closed the door gently behind us. Davenport was waiting. He would have wrung his hands if he'd been programmed for it.

  I said, "How long has he been like that?"

  "A few days. No more."

  "How did it happen?"

  "I don't quite know, sir. A limousine pulling a horse-trailer picked him up. When he came back a few hours later, he was as you see him."

  "Come on, Davenport, don't make me pull teeth. Who owns the limo? Where did it take him?"

  "Mr. Daise didn't say. Can you help him, sir?"

  I thought about Zamp and Whipper and the surfers and how much I'd helped them. I said, "It's very near the top of my list, Davenport. Very near."

  We nodded at each other like a couple of Japanese wrestlers, and he let me and Bill out the door. As my Belvedere rolled down the long driveway, I thought about all the clues Mr. Daise had probably handed me during our conversation. I threw them into my shoe box, where they rattled around with everything else.

  An hour later, when I got back to the empty house in Malibu, a car was parked on the cement apron in front of the garage.

  Chapter 16

  A Lot Of Vacancies

  THE car was boxy and a noxious green that is used nowhere else but in public buildings. It belonged to Irv Doewanit. I liked Irv, but I also hadn't slept in a bed in a couple of days, and I hadn't heard any straight answers in almost that long. I needed a bath. And because the Friar Tuck Burger had been less like food than any other food I'd ever eaten, I needed a hot meal. All in all, I did not feel like the perfect host.

  Doewanit was sitting on the front step reading a newspaper. Maybe it was the same one he'd been reading while watching Mr. Will what seemed like years before. He looked up at me and smiled. I wanted to kick him for looking so healthy and rested but instead I grunted, "Hello, Irv."

  "Marlowe, Marlowe," he said as he stood up. "Just the man I wanted to see."

  "Take a good look," I said. "I'm fading fast." I stumbled past him to unlock the door. The house was not just empty, it was a dead thing, its soul gone. All the smells in it were old and had lost the edge that even a good smell has when it's new. I listened to the silence until I could hear Doewanit breathing behind me.

  "Sit down," I said as I walked into the kitchen. Doewanit had shown me a good time at his place; I would show him a good time here, even if it was a little gray and I couldn't hold it very steady.

  A note was stuck to the refrigerator under a magnetic kitchen surfboard. The note had been written by Whipper before he'd left and it told me that tonight was the night of the neighborhood meeting. I cannot tell you how much I did not want to go to that meeting. But I'd promised Whipper I'd go. Besides, Max Toodemax was on Mr. Will's list. Maybe going to the meeting would help me find Zamp. I doubted it. But at the moment I'd doubt gravity.

  I found nothing in the refrigerator but a six-pack of brewski and an onion growing a green topknot. I returned to the living room with one of the cans and threw it in Doewanit's direction. He caught it in one hand and opened it and poured some of it down his throat, making his voice box bob.

  The phone rang, sounding unnaturally loud. I considered letting it ring, but finally couldn't leave it alone. At the other end was Whipper. In a flat voice, he said, "I found it."

  "Found what?"

  "The
answer. The way to prevent androids from going stale. You just add the same preservatives that are in junk food snack cakes. Neat, huh?" The information should have pleased him, but it didn't.

  "That's bitchen," I said, relieved. "I guess that means I no longer have a case because everybody's coming home." Whipper could go to the meeting instead of me. I could get some sleep and then take Zamp back to T'toom. We'd both had enough excitement. I was so busy with my fantasy I had to ask Whipper to repeat what he'd just said.

  "I said Dad isn't playing it that way. He still won't let anybody go."

  "Why not?"

  "I guess he likes me working for him." Whipper spit the words at me.

  "What about Zamp?"

  "Dad won't let anybody go. He still claims not to have them."

  I felt empty and even more tired than when I'd come in. Behind my eyes I saw eight plastic garbage bags, each the large economy size, each weighted so it would sink to the bottom of the bay. In each was the body of somebody I knew— seven surfers and my Grampa Zamp. I didn't know for sure they were dead. Maybe Mr. Will just liked their company. I supposed it was even possible that he didn't have them. But the nasty thought that he wouldn't let them go because they were already gone wouldn't stay quiet.

  "You there, Zoot?" Whipper said.

  "Yeah," I said.

  "Still on the case?"

  "Sure," I said, jolly as a plastic tiara. "I'll find them."

  "Let me know. I never liked it here. I like it less now."

  We kidded each other for a few more minutes and then hung up. I stood by the phone for a while. Then Doewanit burped politely and I remembered that I'd left him drinking in the living room. I wished he'd done his drinking at home.

  I sat down on the couch across the room from him and waited.

  He said, "Every little thing all right?"

  "Let's say that it is."

  He shook his head. "Marlowe, Marlowe, don't be so paranoid. If somebody from Malibu looked the way you look, he'd be in bad shape."

  I nodded. If there was going to be any patter this afternoon, it would have to come from him. He took another swig and then rested the can on the arm of the chair. He looked around with a self-satisfied smile.

  "I'm kind of busy right now," I said, and stood up. "If you want to finish that brewski, be my guest. There's more in the fridge. Just lock the door behind you on the way out."

  He winked at me as if I'd confided in him and said, "Look, I didn't come all this way just to keep you up and drink your beer."

  I sat down. It was either that or fall over. I adjusted my face into what I hoped was an interested expression. It probably looked like mashed potatoes.

  "Marlowe, Marlowe, we detectives have to stick together, don't we?"

  I was about ready to scream at him when he went on.

  "A woman from Superhero Androids is after me."

  If I'd had ears they would have pricked up then. As it was I leaned forward, the tiredness draining out of me like dirty motor oil.

  "Good, Marlowe. You're interested. But I digress. The woman's name is Fran Ignatio and she works in the SA acquisitions department."

  "What does she acquire?"

  "At the moment, she wants to acquire some cells from my body."

  "Kinky."

  Doewanit laughed and then said, "Not so kinky. She wants to use the cells to grow an android with my looks and talents for their Great Detectives series."

  I shook my head and said, "I guess I really am tired. She wants to do what with your cells?"

  He got very serious all of a sudden and said, "You know that androids are all grown from seed cells that come from donors who have the looks and talents SA wants to push."

  "I didn't know that." And I wondered why Whipper hadn't told me. Had he just not thought of it, or was something else going on? Like father, like son? Maybe I didn't know Whipper as well as I thought I did.

  But Whipper Will didn't worry me. He was my friend or he wasn't. If he wasn't he could not hurt me any more than his father had already done. What did worry me was this seed cells angle. Mr. Will could make a copy of anybody he wanted to. Unpleasant possibilities bore down on me like a platoon of tanks.

  Then another thought came to me, arriving on a broomstick, black rags fluttering around it. Maybe it came to me because it was unpleasant too. Maybe the idea flew in because Whipper Will and Doewanit had just given me some things to think about. Maybe I knew why Mr. Will had kidnapped Zamp and the surfers. They were worse than dead. They were experiments.

  Mr. Will had been astonished when neither Zamp nor I nor any of the surfers was conked by the credulity gas. It had really astonished him bad. If he was keeping them despite the fact he'd gotten what he said he wanted from his son, was it such a long leap that he was keeping them to find out why they didn't react to his poison? On the other hand, maybe I was being optimistic.

  But that was all my business. It had nothing to do with Irv Doewanit, who so far was only something to step over on the way to bed. He was still drinking and looking around the room as if he were thinking of buying it and was deciding in his mind what color he would like on the walls. I said, "So, you want to stay here."

  "Your perspicacity never ceases to amaze me. What do you say?"

  Was perspicacity another word for nose? I said, "Why not? We have a vacancy at the moment. We have a lot of vacancies."

  "You are a prince among men. I almost hesitate to ask you one more favor."

  "Almost," I said, and bobbed my head until I stopped myself.

  "You're a detective. I'm a detective. What say you do me a professional favor and get this Fran Ignatio off my back?"

  "What do you expect me to do, use a crowbar?"

  "You'll think of something. You're that kind of guy."

  "I'm working at the moment. I can't tell if it's a case or a couple of cases. I'll take care of your problem when I have the time."

  "That's all I ask."

  "Meanwhile, you can stay here."

  He leapt to his feet, clutched me by both shoulders, and just barely fought the impulse to kiss me on both cheeks like a movie Frenchman. He ran out to his car to get baggage.

  I went into the bedroom to take off my hat and coat. I tried to decide if I wanted to eat first or sleep first. But I might as well have tried to pick up a raw egg with chopsticks. I fell asleep deciding.

  Chapter 17

  Meet Max Toodemax

  PALE yellow light was coming through the curtains when I woke up. I lay on the bed for a while listening to the surf beat at the beach, making a sound like faraway cannons. I let the sound smother me and I feel asleep again.

  When I awoke for the second time Bill was watching me from a corner of the dark room, his eyes glowing. Somewhere in the house a fresh pizza roamed. I got up and followed the odor to the living room. Doewanit was sitting on the floor eating pizza from a white cardboard box while he watched a black-and-white movie on television. I asked him to save some of the pizza for me and I went to wash.

  Half an hour later I was clean and dressed and full of food. If I'd been human before, I would have felt human again. As it was, I felt like more than a match for five of what I'd been that afternoon.

  "You want to come to the neighborhood meeting?" I asked. "We're going to throw out the monarchy."

  He was engrossed in a scene in which two guys were riding across the desert on horses. He waved at me without turning around and said, "Have a good time."

  Bill lit the way with his eyes while we walked to the recreation hall where the meeting was to be held. The air was warm and sweet as the breath of a baker's oven, so a lot of people were out that night. A couple of them on roller skates almost knocked me down.

  The hall was a small brick building normally used for Cub Scout meetings and senior citizen dances. It was lit by a few poles out in front. The parking lot was filling up fast. Among the real cars, Melt-O-Mobiles fizzed and disappeared. People arrived in their formal T-shirts. Some even wore pant
s that went all the way to their ankles. They mixed outside like the inmates of a disturbed anthill, talking and making bloody oaths to each other. I would not have wanted to be Max Toodemax that evening.

  While Bill watched gnats orbit the white glass ball atop one of the light poles, I wandered into the room and was handed an agenda by a woman sitting behind a card table at the door. She asked for a donation and I gave her a few bucks. Whipper would have wanted it that way.

  The room was brightly lit by tubes in the high ceiling. Despite it being only half-filled, and with all the doors open, the room was warm enough to raise a sweat on the humans who were in it. I returned some serious nods. A lecturn and a microphone stood on a small stage.

  I wandered back outside and stood where I could watch people walk up from the parking lot. I would have asked Bill to watch with me, but I didn't know myself what I was watching for, so I couldn't tell him.

  The crowd got bigger, and not uglier exactly, but tenser, as if the people were waiting for a hanging. Almost nobody went into the hot rec hall. Another car pulled up. It was big and the color of sea foam at night, but it was just another car. I'd been leaning against a low brick wall. I stood up straight now, ready to jump in any direction I had to. Four bruisers got out of the car and almost immediately I smelled credulity gas. Though they were dressed in gray suits and ties I knew the four were androids because of the line of blue plastic that showed just above their shirt collars.

  Suddenly I had a funny idea. What if Caria DeWilde could not find a connection between credulity gas and androids and Melt-O-Mobiles because she was doing the experiment all wrong? What if she was missing a third ingredient in the credulity gas, something found outside but not in the controlled environment of her laboratory? Smog, for example. My funny idea might never grow up to be anything more, but Caria DeWilde would want to give it a chance.

  The last person out of the car was a man who was taller than his androids. He had short blond hair that looked like a neatly clipped plot of dry yellow grass. His face was long and had sharp bones behind it. Ice-water eyes looked around.