“Ike says to give him what he wants.” Cardero patted an armored ball turret that had come off the same B-24 that had provided the plating for the door. “This is what he wants.”
A face peered up through the glass. Susan jumped in surprise. “Jesus Christ,” she said. The face disappeared back into the gloom.
Cardero laughed. “He gets in there and swings that thing around, scares the crap out of people late at night. He asked to keep the twin .50s.”
“You didn’t—”
“He was pissed off when we said no.”
Leder was as she remembered him, at once pensive and frantic. He had a downcast gaze that only occasionally came up over his bifocals.
He waited stiffly as Cardero shot the bolts back in place and turned the keys in the double-locked door. Something inside him was vibrating.
He went to the ball turret to sweep the hallway for signs of God-knows-what. When he returned to his place on the edge of the bed, he was apologetic. But he had an ear cocked toward the hallway. Someone beyond the door asked Cardero for a smoke, and Leder waited for them to walk away before speaking.
“It has to be this way,” he said. “I have made enemies with my work. I have brought attention to myself from . . . certain areas.”
Susan frowned, dubious. “Those locks outside are your idea?”
Leder looked away. “The intruders I am most worried about lack the understanding of lock and key. I do confess, it is a mystery why the staff have not moved more quickly to reverse the locks to this side of the door. If only for convenience sake, you understand.”
Susan found herself nodding sympathetically. “Perhaps they will,” she suggested, “once they get around to cleaning this place up a bit from the war.”
Leder leaned close to her, inspecting her in a critical way.
“You have not done well,” he said. “Peace has not treated you kindly.”
She started to laugh; she started to say, “What?” like she had no idea what he was talking about. But Leder was speaking from knowledge. What he lacked in a sense of boundaries, he made up for with insight.
“I have dreams,” she admitted.
He nodded. “Good,” he said. “You have seen ghastly things. I would not trust you if you didn’t suffer dreams. I will speak with you.”
He pointed at Bogen. “This one has no understanding whatsoever. And this one”—his finger went to Shrieve—“this one smells of the telescope. Have you harvested in the vineyard of stars?”
Wide-eyed, Shrieve swore he had not.
“Liar!” Leder looked triumphant. “I know you by the light of the Dog Star. You cannot hide it. The light emanates from your every pore.”
Leder turned to Susan. “I will not go anywhere with him. Do I look like such a fool? He has the stink of astronomy. He has seen the Gibbering Behemoth. He has seen the Mindless Leviathan, the Blind Vortex of Light. Azathoth sees. Azathoth is. Azathoth will be—”
Susan calmed him with a hand to his arm. Leder became silent. He turned away. After a moment, she realized he was weeping.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not myself lately.”
“It’s all right.” She squeezed his arm. “It’s all right.”
“Look at me,” Leder sobbed. “Look what they’ve made of me.”
“We’ll get you out of here. We’ll get you back to the United States. People can help you there.”
Leder laughed bitterly, sadly. He shook his head. “I will never see America.”
“We can take you with us this evening,” she offered. “Help us out with a few questions, we’ll escort you to a plane to America.”
She didn’t know if any planes were leaving for America, but then she wasn’t sure Leder would cooperate either.
She produced Conrad Hartmann’s napkin. Leder looked at the logo on the front for a long moment. He smiled slightly. A tear welled up at the corner of his eye.
“We were heroes, then. All of us. And such good friends. And there was this Egyptian gentleman who tended the bar. What times we had in this place.”
He flipped it over to the formula on the back, snorted derisively. He took barely a moment with it. “You are not planning to go to this place, are you?”
“Why not?” Charley asked innocently. Leder ignored him; Shrieve had the mark of the astronomer.
“Why not?” Susan asked, as if translating between the two of them.
“It leads to a little bar down in the waterfront area—at least it does in this universe. But then, one must ask why use the Angle Web for someplace one can reach by hailing a cab, yes?”
Shrieve said, “Can you give us the spell to get us there?”