more.
Peter Marlowe told the King what Shagata had said, and the King grinned.
'Great. Just great. You want to come by tomorrow morning? We can discuss plans.'
'I'm on the airfield work party.'
'You want me to get a sub for you?'
Peter Marlowe laughed and shook his head.
'You'd better go anyway,' said the King. 'In case Cheng San wants to make contact.'
'Do you think there's anything wrong?'
'No. Shagata was wise to check. I would have. Everything's going according to plan. Another week and the whole deal'll be fixed.'
'I hope so.' Peter Marlowe thought about the village, and prayed that the deal would go through. He desperately wanted to go there again, and if he did, he knew that he would have to have Sulina or he would lose his sanity.
'What's the matter?' The King had felt more than seen Peter Marlowe's shudder.
'I was just thinking I'd like to be in Sulina's arms right now,' Peter Marlowe replied uneasily.
'Yeah.' The King wondered if he might foul up over the broad.
Peter Marlowe caught the look and smiled faintly. 'You've nothing to worry about, old chum. I wouldn't do anything foolish, if that's what you were thinking.'
'Sure.' The King smiled. 'We got a lot to look forward to — and tomorrow's the show. You heard what it's about?'
'Only that it's called Triangle. And it stars Sean.' Peter Marlowe's voice was suddenly flat.
'How did you nearly kill Sean?' The King had never asked bluntly before, knowing that with a man like Peter Marlowe it was always dangerous to ask direct questions about private matters. But now he had felt instinctively that the time was correct.
'There's not much to tell,' Peter Marlowe said immediately, glad that the King had asked him. 'Sean and I were in the same squadron in Java. The day before the war ended there, Sean didn't come back from a mission. I thought he'd had it.'
'About a year ago — the day after we came here from Java — I went to one of the camp shows. When I finally recognized Sean on the stage, you can imagine what a shock it was. He was playing a girl, ..but I didn't think anything of that — someone always has to take the girls' parts — and I just sat back and enjoyed the show. I couldn't get over finding him alive and fit, and I couldn't get over what a sensational girl he made — the way he walked and talked and sat — his clothes and his wig were perfect. I was very impressed with his performance — and yet I knew he'd never had anything to do with theatricals before.'
'After the show I went backstage to see him. There were some others waiting too, and after a while I got the weirdest feeling that these fellows were like the characters you meet at any stage door anywhere — you know, chaps with their tongues hanging out waiting for their girl friends.'
'Finally the dressing room door opened and everyone surged in. I tagged along last and stood in the doorway. It was only then that it hit me that the men were all queers! Sean was sitting on a chair and they seemed to pour all over him, fawning on him and calling him 'darling,' hugging him and telling him how 'marvelous' he was - treating him like the beautiful star of the show. And Sean — Sean was enjoying it! Christ, he was actually enjoying their pawing! Like a bitch in heat.'
'Then he suddenly saw me, and of course he was shocked too.'
'He said 'Hello, Peter' but I couldn't say anything. I stood staring at one of the bloody queers who had his hand on Sean's knee. Sean was wearing a sort of flowing negligee and stilk stockings and panties, and I got the feeling that he'd even arranged the folds of the negligee to show off his leg above the stocking — and it looked as if he had breasts under the negligee. Then I suddenly realized he wasn't wearing a wig — all that hair was his own, and just as long and wavy as a girl's.
'Then Sean asked everybody to leave. 'Peter's an old friend I thought was dead,' he said. 'I have to talk to him. Go on, please.''
'When they'd gone I asked Sean, 'What in God's name has happened to you? You were actually enjoying those scum pawing you.''
''What in God's name has happened to all of us?' Sean answered. Then he said with that wonderful smile of his, 'I'm so glad to see you, Peter. I thought you were very dead. Sit down a moment while I clean my face off.
We've a lot to talk about. Did you come on the Java work party?''
'I nodded, still in a state of shock, and Sean turned back to the mirror and began to wipe the makeup off with face cream. 'What happened to you, Peter?' he asked. 'Did you get shot down?''
'When he started to take off the makeup I began to relax - everything seemed more normal. I told myself that I'd been stupid - that this was all part of the show - you know, keeping up the legend - and I was sure he'd only been pretending to enjoy it. So I apologized and said, 'Sorry, Sean —
you must think me a bloody fool! My God, it's good to know you're all right.
I thought you'd had it too.' I told him what had happened to me and then asked about him.
'Sean told me he'd been pranged by four Zeroes and had to parachute.
When he finally got back to the airfield and found my plane, it was just a shambles. I told him how I'd set fire to it before I left — I hadn't wanted the bloody Japs to repair the wing.'
''Oh,' he said, 'well, I just presumed you'd pranged yourself landing —that you'd had it. I stayed in Bandung at headquarters with the rest of the bods and then we were all put into a camp. Shortly afterwards we were sent to Batavia and from there to here.''
'Sean was looking at himself in the mirror all the time, and his face was as smooth and fine as any girl's. Suddenly I got the strangest feeling that he had forgotten all about me. I didn't know what to do. Then he turned away from the mirror and looked right at me, and he was frowning in a funny way. All at once I sensed how
