“It is my nest,” he said simply, and then glanced at the shadow cast by one of those bent-over trees. “But look at the time! I must hurry.”
The penny dropped. Of course. The trees had been coaxed to grow in that direction so that they could function as gnomons in vast sundials, the eight bushes planted around them marking the Horch equivalent of the hours of the day. I was so struck by the ingenuity of the system that I hardly heard the rest of what Beert said. Which was: “I have something to give you before I leave.”
He wrapped one of those arms around my shoulders-it was warmer than I had expected-and led me to the pink structure. The two Christmas trees I had seen before were standing immobile not far away, but Beert ignored them. He seemed in good spirits, if rushed. “This is my personal laboratory,” he said with pride.
I looked at it, and at him. “Does that mean you’re some kind of a scientist?”
“Scientist? No, Dan. I am a student. All I hope to learn is what the cousins already know, and this is where I try to learn it. The thing I wish to give you is in the laboratory, but there are delicate machines here; it is better if you don’t come inside until you know enough about them to take care. Wait just a moment.”
He unlocked the door-at least, I guess that was what he did; he pressed both arms against the door in a complicated, sine-wavey pattern, something like an identification signature, I suppose; anyway, the door opened. Lights sprang up inside, and he went in.
I peered after him.
Beert had been right about the machines. The place was full of them, in all stages of completion. It looked like the way he had been learning his cousins’ science was by taking some of their gadgets apart and rebuilding them.
More important, it also looked like this was the place I had been looking for. If there were secrets of Horch technology for me to steal and take back to the Bureau, there was a whole treasure trove of them right here.
And he had implied that, sooner or later, I would be allowed to examine them more closely.
It was the most hopeful thing that had happened to me since Beert rescued me from the torturers. The only sour note was those two Horch robots. Most of their twigs were retracted, but I knew they could spring into action at any moment.
When Beert came back, carrying something in a wicker basket, he saw me watching them uneasily. “Do not worry about the robots, Dan,” he reassured me. “You are here with the permission of the cousins, and there will be no problem. The cousins have been very kind. This laboratory could not have been built without their help. Now let us go back to your chamber.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I never learned Beert’s age, but there was something boyish about him. All the way up the steps he was hissing softly to himself-it was almost a chuckle-and darting his head, almost teasingly, toward mine. But he didn’t speak until we were in my room and the door was closed. I was feeling pretty cheerful myself, partly contagion from Beert, partly the thought of all those Horch secrets waiting for me in his lab.
Then he lifted the lid of the wicker basket. “This is something you may use while Pirraghiz and I are gone,” he said happily.
He took something out of the basket. I recognized it at once and suddenly was not happy at all. It was one of those Beloved Leader helmets. I jumped back, snarling, “No!”
That blew Beert’s own cheerful mood. He darted his head at me incredulously. “You do not wish this? Oh, wait. Perhaps I understand. Are you thinking of the way the interrogation machines used this device? No, I am not giving you this for that purpose. I do not intend to cause you pain. Indeed, you can operate it for yourself. See, here are the selectors.”
He flipped up the little tab on the side of the helmet, exposing its nest of colored grooves, as though he were revealing a great secret. It wasn’t news to me, though. “I’ve seen this already,” I told him. “Rosaleen Artzybachova was tinkering with one like it while we were captives.”
That surprised him. “Did she so? I was not aware of this. Was she able to operate the helmet satisfactorily?”
“Well, no. Not very.”
He wagged his long neck at me. “Indeed I think she would have had great trouble doing so. The selectors are designed for tinier digits than yours-the talons of your Dopey, or of one of Pirraghiz’s people. Let me see if I can find some implement you can use-“
While he was scrabbling in the basket I took the little ceramic toothpick Pirraghiz had given me out of my pocket. “Like this, you mean?”
He swooped his head down almost to touch it, then peered up at me. “You astonish me sometimes, Dan. Yes, that will do.” He took the little splinter out of my hand with the end of one arm-it split, like an elephant’s trunk, to pick it up securely.
I said, “Isn’t this a Beloved Leader device?”
“No longer,” he said absently, tweaking the colored lines. “It is now ours.” He had pressed the helmet against his belly, and seemed to be staring at nothing. Then, sounding satisfied, he said, “Yes, here it is. See, Dan-“ holding up the helmet for me to look at. “I have accessed some of their records for you. You can change from one to another if you wish, but activate only the green selector, otherwise you will be in other files and it will be difficult for you to return to the ones of interest. Do you remember how to put the helmet on?”
I did. I held the thing warily, unable to forget what it had done to me with the Christmas trees.
But was Beert likely to be playing unpleasant tricks? I hoped not. I swallowed. I pulled it over my head, snapped the eyeshades in place—
And, just as before, I was instantly in another place.
I was on a familiar street in New York City. Vendors lined the sidewalk. I had stopped at one of the stalls. I was picking up bits and pieces of the kitschy merchandise this one had to offer, and I felt strange. I felt female. My body
