Fugitives of Chaos

'How much money is left?'

'Why do you ask?'

'I want to spend some of it before it is gone.'

He laughed. I was beginning to think I liked Victor better before he was so happy and at ease.

I said crossly, 'I have not ever seen it! I have not spent a dime. Vanity was in Paris; I haven't bought anything in the shops here on the ship. I didn't even rent the skates we are wearing; you did! Don't I get a cut of the money?'

His flesh rippled, and a pair of lips formed near his belly button. He stuck his hand into the lips and pulled out an envelope.

He passed it to me. 'It's all yours.'

I said, 'What? Only one fifth of this is mine '

Victor said, 'How do you figure that? You got it from ap Cymru. None of us did anything to get it. As far as I am concerned, that is your property. I was only holding it because you handed it to me to count when we were standing on the dock, and then Mr. Glum attacked.' Victor could count faster than any of us.

I said, 'Well, I'm ceding it to the group. Four fifths of it. No, I don't even need that much. I guess we'll have to rent a room in New York when we get there, won't we?'

Victor jumped to his feet, slamming his hand down atop the envelope. He stood, looming over the table.

I shrieked and flinched backwards in my chair, shouting, 'What? What? What is it?'

But he was not looking at me. Face blank, his eyes were scanning left and right, right and left.

He said, 'There is something invisible in the immediate area. I hope it is Colin. Colin… ?'

No answer.

Victor opened his third eye. The metal orb, shining, came out of a seam on his forehead. Blue sparks began to glow in his depth, brighter and brighter as the nested spheres began to align their irises, one after another…

I looked in the fourth dimension. A web of spider-lines? No; it wasn't there. But had I seen it for a moment?

Colin appeared, right hand curled around his left index finger, twisting the ring collet-out. 'Okay, okay, smart guy. You got me. Put your eyeball away before someone sees it.'

Victor closed his third eye. 'Don't play tricks. We are about to be attacked by people who want to kill us rather than capture us.'

'Sorry. But you guys are the ones who told me not to go around attracting attention. On account of I don't have a ticket, see?'

'By not attracting attention, I meant stop pulling the ice sculptures of mermaids off the buffet tables and waltzing with them.'

'My date walked out on me. Are we going to divvy up the loot?'

'If Amelia says it is okay. Myself, I think we should pool our resources. I doubt if this is enough to rent a room, even a poor one.'

'Oh, come on!' said Colin. 'America is a rich country. They are not going to let people starve there! I mean, Margaret Thatcher's not running the place, is she?'

I put my hand on Victor's hand, saying, 'I'll be happy to dig ditches with you, if you want, Victor.

Anything is better than being a baby, a bum, or a robber.' I favored Colin with a dark look.

Victor said, 'How long were you listening, Colin?'

Colin said, 'Keeping secrets from me? I heard you guys talking about not being able to go back home.'

Colin returned my dark look and made it darker. 'Or was this one of those mixed doubles things, where the fifth guy from the hotbox doesn't get to play?'

I said, 'Maybe absolute power does corrupt absolutely. What are you going to do for a living when we get to the States? Be the world's greatest pickpocket? Walk through girls' shower rooms? Strangle the president?'

'With great power comes great responsibility,' said Colin earnestly. 'I will dedicate myself to ridding the world of evil! I will use my great powers of invisibility to fight crime! Maybe I can catch the Catwoman. I sure as hell am not going to end up waiting tables for tips. That is your future, you know, Dark Mistress.

Or should I say: Dark Waitress.'

'I don't think so,' I said haughtily.

Colin grinned one of his slimier grins. 'Yeah? What marketable skills did Boggin teach you in that fine school we just fled from?'

I stared at him in silence, unable to think of anything to say.

Colin said, 'Maybe you can recite the Iliad in Greek on a street corner and leave a hat out for people to drop dimes into. 'Of wrath sing, oh goddess…!''

'We learned other things…' I said, pouting.

'Astronomy? There is big money in calculating the orbit of Jupiter using Ptolemy's Almagest these days.

Philosophy? Get yourself a cardboard sign: Will think for food. You'll be on the dole with me in no time.

Then we can have our argument about Margey Thatcher again.'