It. That's going to be me. All the
lights are extinguished and the It hides anywhere in the house." As Maria
struggled through the directions, the great hall was reduced to pitch darkness
with the exception of the single pink beam on the stage.
"Successively each player finding the Sardine joins them until all are hidden in
one place, and the last player, who is the loser, is left to wander alone in the
dark." Maria closed the book. "And darlings, we're all going to feel sorry for
the loser because we're going to play this funny old game in a darling new way."
As the last light on the dais melted away, Maria stripped off her gown and
displayed the astonishing nude body that was a miracle of pneumatic surgery.
"We're going to play Sardine like this!" she cried. The last light biinked out.
There was a roar of exultant laughter and applause, followed by a multiple
whisper of cloth drawn across skin. Occasionally there came the sound of a rip,
then muttered exclamations and more laughter.
Reich was invisible at last. He had half an hour to slip up into the house, find
and kill D'Courtney, and then return to the game. Tate was committed to pinning
the peeper secretaries out of the line of his attack. It was safe. It was
foolproof except for the Chervil boy. He had to take that chance.
He crossed the main hall and jostled into bodies at the west arch. He went
through the arch into the music room and turned right, groping for the stairs.
At the foot of the stairs he was forced to climb over a barrier of bodies with
octopus arms that tried to pull him down. He ascended the stairs, seventeen
eternal steps, and felt his way through a close tunnel overpass papered with
velour. Suddenly he was seized and a woman crushed herself against him.
"Hello, Sardine," she whispered in his ear. Then her skin became aware of his
clothes. "Owww!" she exclaimed, and felt the hard outlines of the gun in his
breast pocket. "What's that?" He slapped her hand away. "Clever-up, Sardine,"
she giggled. "Get out of the can."
He divested himself of her and bruised his nose against the dead-end of the
overpass. He turned right, opened a door and found himself in a vaulted gallery
over fifty feet long. The lights were extinguished here too, but the luminescent
paintings, glowing under ultra-violet spotlights, filled the gallery with a
virulent glow. It was empty.
Between a livid Lucrece and a horde of Sabine Women was a flush door of polished
bronze. Reich stopped before it, removed the tiny Rhodopsin Ionizer from bis
back pocket and attempted to poise the copper cube between his thumbnail and
forefinger. His hands were trembling violently. Rage and hatred boiled inside
him, and his death-lust shot image after image of an agonized D'Courtney through
his mind's eye.
"Christ!" he cried. "He'd do it to me. He's tearing at my throat. I'm fighting
for survival." He made his orisons in fanatical multiples of three and nine.
"Stand by me, dear Christ! Today, tomorrow, and yesterday. Stand by me! Stand by
me! Stand by me!"
His fingers steadied. He poised the Rhodospin cap, then thrust open the bronze
door, revealing nine steps mounting to an anteroom. Reich snapped his thumb-nail
against the copper cube as though he were trying to flip a penny to the moon. As
the Rhodopsin cap flew up into the anteroom, Reich averted his eyes.
There was a cold purplish flash. Reich leaped up the stairs like a tiger. The
two Beaumont House guards were seated on the bench where he had caught them.
Their faces were sagging, their vision destroyed, their time sense abolished.
If anyone entered and found the guards before he was finished, he was on the
road to Demolition. If the guards revived before he was finished, he was on the
road to Demolition. No matter what happened, it was a final gamble with
Demolition. Leaving the last of his sanity behind him, Reich pushed open a
jewelled door and entered the wedding
lights are extinguished and the It hides anywhere in the house." As Maria
struggled through the directions, the great hall was reduced to pitch darkness
with the exception of the single pink beam on the stage.
"Successively each player finding the Sardine joins them until all are hidden in
one place, and the last player, who is the loser, is left to wander alone in the
dark." Maria closed the book. "And darlings, we're all going to feel sorry for
the loser because we're going to play this funny old game in a darling new way."
As the last light on the dais melted away, Maria stripped off her gown and
displayed the astonishing nude body that was a miracle of pneumatic surgery.
"We're going to play Sardine like this!" she cried. The last light biinked out.
There was a roar of exultant laughter and applause, followed by a multiple
whisper of cloth drawn across skin. Occasionally there came the sound of a rip,
then muttered exclamations and more laughter.
Reich was invisible at last. He had half an hour to slip up into the house, find
and kill D'Courtney, and then return to the game. Tate was committed to pinning
the peeper secretaries out of the line of his attack. It was safe. It was
foolproof except for the Chervil boy. He had to take that chance.
He crossed the main hall and jostled into bodies at the west arch. He went
through the arch into the music room and turned right, groping for the stairs.
At the foot of the stairs he was forced to climb over a barrier of bodies with
octopus arms that tried to pull him down. He ascended the stairs, seventeen
eternal steps, and felt his way through a close tunnel overpass papered with
velour. Suddenly he was seized and a woman crushed herself against him.
"Hello, Sardine," she whispered in his ear. Then her skin became aware of his
clothes. "Owww!" she exclaimed, and felt the hard outlines of the gun in his
breast pocket. "What's that?" He slapped her hand away. "Clever-up, Sardine,"
she giggled. "Get out of the can."
He divested himself of her and bruised his nose against the dead-end of the
overpass. He turned right, opened a door and found himself in a vaulted gallery
over fifty feet long. The lights were extinguished here too, but the luminescent
paintings, glowing under ultra-violet spotlights, filled the gallery with a
virulent glow. It was empty.
Between a livid Lucrece and a horde of Sabine Women was a flush door of polished
bronze. Reich stopped before it, removed the tiny Rhodopsin Ionizer from bis
back pocket and attempted to poise the copper cube between his thumbnail and
forefinger. His hands were trembling violently. Rage and hatred boiled inside
him, and his death-lust shot image after image of an agonized D'Courtney through
his mind's eye.
"Christ!" he cried. "He'd do it to me. He's tearing at my throat. I'm fighting
for survival." He made his orisons in fanatical multiples of three and nine.
"Stand by me, dear Christ! Today, tomorrow, and yesterday. Stand by me! Stand by
me! Stand by me!"
His fingers steadied. He poised the Rhodospin cap, then thrust open the bronze
door, revealing nine steps mounting to an anteroom. Reich snapped his thumb-nail
against the copper cube as though he were trying to flip a penny to the moon. As
the Rhodopsin cap flew up into the anteroom, Reich averted his eyes.
There was a cold purplish flash. Reich leaped up the stairs like a tiger. The
two Beaumont House guards were seated on the bench where he had caught them.
Their faces were sagging, their vision destroyed, their time sense abolished.
If anyone entered and found the guards before he was finished, he was on the
road to Demolition. If the guards revived before he was finished, he was on the
road to Demolition. No matter what happened, it was a final gamble with
Demolition. Leaving the last of his sanity behind him, Reich pushed open a
jewelled door and entered the wedding
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