'No,' Petheridge said. 'Army.'
'Did he have a yacht?'
'Didn't care for the sea much, as I recall.'
'This knot is a bowline hitch, a kind you tie off a taut cord with. It's a seaman's knot. Someone with nautical experience tied it. Hardly the thing a desperate person would do, anyway. And in any event, it's very difficult to tie with a loose cord.'
'Another murder,' Motherwell groaned.
Thaxton scratched his head, muttering, 'Three. Three murders. Now this is getting bloody unusual.'
Dalton sidled over to him and whispered, 'Still think this is merry old England?'
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As the night wore on into morning, Max and Hochstader 3 hit dozens and dozens of alternate continua, each one with Dumbrowsky Taylor Burke or some variant smack in the middle of it.
'I can't believe it,' Max groaned, staring at the phone book in Hochstader 37's outer office.
'Again?' Hochstader 3 asked wearily.
'Again.'
Max was fascinated by the permutations on the agency's name, evidently the result of random factor at work among Max's would-be partners. There was Dumbrowsky Taylor Thompson, ditto ditto O' Hare, Dumbrowsky McNeil ditto, ditto ditto Tomassi, and even a Dumbrowsky Fenton Fineburg.
'Herb Fenton. My God, why did I go into partnership with Herb Fenton? Well, he's in this universe. Close, but no cigar.'
'No more, please,' Hochstader 3 begged.
'We have to keep looking.' Addressing Hochstader 56, Max said, 'Thanks.'
'Do drop in again,' Hochstader 56 replied.
Later, even Max was getting tired.
'How many alternates are there that might be close to the one I want?'
'Do you know what a googol is?'
'No,' Max said.
'It's a number. A one with a crapload of zeros after it. Take that number, and raise it to the power of itself. Googol to the googol power. You get a googolplex. Don't even think about how many zeros that has. That'll give you some idea of how many worlds we're talking about.'
Max blanched. 'That many?'
'It's insignificant,' Hochstader 3 said, 'to the number of slow ways to kill you I've devised in the last half- hour.'
'Have you ever looked into Biodynamics? When you achieve total body-system coordination, all that tension goes away.'
'Oh, shut up.'
Still later, Hochstader was beside himself.
'Look, there's a limit to how many times you can de-tune a portal without losing a fix on your home world. My world! I'll never get back!'
'I hear that, I really do. I know I've been using you as an object, but if you try to look at it in the context of its unique situational ethics-'
'Cut the psychobabble!'
'No, really, I mean it.'
'Heil Hitler!' Hochstader 106 shouted after them as they went back to re-tune the portal.
Much later…
'I have no idea where we are!' Hochstader screamed. 'You don't know what you're getting us into. There are boondock worlds you wouldn't want to be caught dead in. Some you'd wish you were dead in. Strange places-'
'I never saw this trough-convergence on my biorhythm chart.'
'You never…? For God's sake.'
Jeremy Hochstader hit the keys furiously. Out on the floor of the lab, the castle's mainframe computer hummed and whirred. An occasional spark snapped among the huge machines arranged along the far wall.
'Jesus, this joint is creepy,' Max said. 'Who did you say owns the place again?'
'The castle? Lord Incarnadine.'
'Lord Incarnadine.' Max shook his head. 'Strange, strange.'
'Yeah, really.'
'And you live here?'
'Yeah. Please, I'm busy.'
'Sorry, but this is just so hard to believe. What's it like?'
'What's what like?'
'The castle. Living here.'
'It's more fun than a barrel of orangutans.'
'That so?'
'Although it does get risky on occasion.'
As Hochstader worked, Max took in the lab again, still marveling. 'I'd like to see the rest of the castle.'
'It's extremely big. And there are portals all over the place.'
'Like this one?'
'Yes. Leading to worlds more weird than you can imagine. You think the castle's strange. You oughta see some of those worlds. They're not just variants of Earth, like this one. Damn!'
Max was alarmed. 'What?'
'I think I just…'
Hochstader got up and ran toward the curtain. Max began to follow but nearly ran into the little guy, who had stopped at the curtain to peer cautiously through.
'What is it?' Max demanded.
'Just checking to see if the office building is still here. Something happened.'
'What?'
'Don't know. A glitch in the program. I might have hit a wrong key. Something tweaked, but it looks okay. This is just another minor variant world, looks like. Come on.'
Max followed Hochstader through the curtain and into the back room. Hochstader was still wary, treading softly. Max nearly bumped into him again in the outer office. And when he saw why, he nearly fell over.
Something… some thing was seated at the desk, a nightmare of multiple pincers, green chitin, and wobbling antennae. It turned many-faceted bug-eyes on its visitors.
'And… who… might… you… be?' it whirred, its horrible mouth working clickety clickety clickety click.
'Sorry,' Hochstader said. 'A glitch. We were just leaving.'
'You… are… an… interesting… variant,' the creature said. 'Are… you… edible?'
'Not very.' Hochstader temporized, backtracking. He bumped up against a transfixed Max.
'Move!' Hochstader whispered.
'Huh? What the hell is that?'
'Back through the curtain-now!'
'Wha-? Oh, yeah.'
They ran back into the lab. Hochstader dove for the terminal and frantically banged away at the keyboard. Presently, he stopped typing and collapsed into his seat. 'Jesus.'
Max was still looking back at the portal. 'What the hell was that thing?'
'I dunno, but we don't want to mess with it.'
'I should say not. Any chance it'll come after us?'
'I tumbled the tuning program.'
