It was a huge, semi-illumined room, with tier on tier of circling ramps
rising up from an open space at the bottom. There ought to have been
a stage there at the bottom, but there wasn't. Instead there was an
open space, a mat, and a head rest. Up at the top of the circling ramps
the room was in darkness, a fit hiding place for ghosts or Venusian
werewolves. Pillows and a thick rug covered the circling ramps.
The soul-quickening Perfume of the Dreamer was stronger here. The
throbbing of the lutes was louder. It was Venusian music the lutes were
playing. Human ears found it inharmonious at first, but as they became
accustomed to it, they began to detect rhythms and melodies that human
minds had not known existed. The room was pleasantly cool but it had
the feel of dampness. A world that was rarely without pelting rain
would have the feel of dampness in its dreaming rooms.
The music playing strange harmonies in his ears, the perfume sending
tingling feelings through his nose, Johnson entered the Room of the
Dreamer. He suspected that other forces, unknown to him, were catching
hold of his senses. He had been in dreaming rooms many times before but
he had not grown accustomed to them. He wondered if any human ever
did. A touch of chill always came over him as he crossed the threshold.
In entering these places, it was as if some unknown nerve center
inside the human organism was touched by something, some force, some
radiation, some subtlety, that quite escaped radiation. He felt the
coldness now.
Vee Vee's fingers left off patting his arm.
"Do you feel it, darling?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"How would I know?"
"Please!" Her voice grew sharp. "I think Johnny Johnson ought to know."
"Johnny! How do you know my name?"
"Shouldn't I recognize one of Earth's foremost scientists, even if he
is incognito on Venus?" Her voice had a teasing quality in it.
"But--"
"And who besides Johnny Johnson would recognize the Karmer nerve grip
and be able to break it instantly?"
"Hell--"
"John Michael Johnson, known as Johnny to his friends, Earth's foremost
expert in the field of electro-magnetic radiations within the human
body!" Her words were needles of icy fact, each one jabbing deeper and
deeper into him.
"And how would I make certain you were Johnny Johnson, except by seeing
if you could break the Karmer nerve grip? If you could break it, then
there was no doubt who you were!" Her words went on and on.
"Who are you?" His words were blasts of sound.
"Please, darling, you are making a scene. I am sure this is the last
thing you really want to do."
He looked quickly around them. The Venusians and humans moving into
this room seemed to be paying no attention to him. His gaze came back
to her.
Again she patted his arm. "Relax, darling. Your secrets are safe with
me."
A gray color came up inside his soul. "But--but--" His voice was
suddenly weak.
The fingers on his arm were very gentle. "No harm will come to you. Am
I not with you?"
"That's what I'm afraid of!" he snapped at her. If he had had a
choice, he might have drawn back. But with circumstances as they
were--his life, Caldwell's life, possibly Vee Vee's life hung in the
balance. Didn't she know that this was true? And as for Martin--But
Caldwell had said that she had been asking about Martin. What
connection did she have with that frantic human genius he sought here?
Johnson felt his skin crawl. He moved toward a nest of cushions on
a ramp, found a Venusian was beating him to them, deftly changed to
another nest, found it. Vee Vee flowed to the floor on his right, moved
cushions to make him more comfortable. She moved in an easy sort of way
that was all flowing movement. He sat down. Someone bumped him on the
left.
"Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to bump into you." Caldwell's voice was still
thick and heavy. He sprawled to the floor on Johnson's left. Under
the man's coat, Johnson caught a glimpse of a slight bulge, the zit
gun hidden there. His left arm pressed against his own coat, feeling
his own zit gun. Operating under gas pressure, throwing a charge of
gas-driven corvel, the zit guns were not only almost noiseless in
operation but they knocked out a human or a Venusian in a matter of
seconds.
True, the person they knocked unconscious would be all right the next
day. For this reason, many people did not regard the zit guns as
effective weapons, but Johnson had a fondness for them. The feel of the
little weapon inside his coat sent a surge of comfort through him.
The music picked up a beat, perfume seemed to flow even more freely
through the air, the lights dimmed almost to darkness, a single bright
spotlight appeared in the ceiling, casting a circle of brilliant
illumination on the mat and the headrest at the bottom of the room. The
curtain rose.
* * * * *
Unger stood in the middle of the spot of light.
Johnson felt his chest muscles contract, then relax. Vee Vee's fingers
sought his arm, not to harm him but running to him for protection. He
caught the flutter of her breathing. On his left, Caldwell stiffened
and became a rock.
Johnson had not seen Unger appear. One second the circle of light
had been empty, the next second the Venusian, smiling with all the
impassivity of a bland Buddha, was in the light. He weighed three
hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce, he was clad in a long robe
that would impede movement. He had appeared in the bright beam of the
spotlight as if by magic.