He who is wrapped in purple robes,
With planets in His care,
Had pity on the least of things
Asleep upon a chair.
--William Butler Yeats
Maybe it was our high-class company, or maybe it was just that the
Monolithians figured everything was going swimmingly for them. Whatever
the reason, they treated us royally after Spookie Masters joined our
little captive society.
The cuisine improved. Our jailers brought in cigarettes and cigars and
fairly recent copies of _Harper's_ and _The New Yorker_. They rolled
back a wall so Joy Linx could have a private bedroom and handed out
blankets all around. They even brought in typewriters and stacks of
copy paper. It was all quite cozy, except that we were still prisoners
and that none of our captors ever spoke to us.
Spookie came out of the bathroom, wiping leftover lather off his face,
and said, "What are they doing? I don't want to settle down here. We've
got to find a way to bust out of this joint."
"Now," Rod said, "if that isn't an ace-high, triple-plated,
razzle-dazzle idea, I've never heard one." He was having a second cup
of our breakfast coffee. "And just how do you think we should carry out
your splendid plan, Mr. Masters?"
"Cut it out, Rod," Spookie said. "I know I talk big. But have we
explored all the possibilities? I suppose you've gone over this room
with a fine-tooth comb, but how about Joy's? Maybe there's some way out
from there."
"Miss Linx is still enjoying her beauty sleep," Rod said. "But it's a
thought. Let's rout her out."
But the door opened and Joy said, "I heard that, you fiends. First
respectable night's sleep I had, too, since I was thrown in among you
great big leering men."
"Don't lump me in with these raffish reporters, ma'am," Spookie said.
"I'm the soul of honor."
"I treat that remark with the doubt it deserves," Joy said. "But all
this gay banter aside, men, I've been tinkering with a thought. Were
you watching when they opened up the wall to make my room? Well, I was.
There was a certain way our woolly friend touched the wall. Maybe if we
felt around on the other side in here...."
We gave the wall a thorough going-over, fingering it, rapping on it
and occasionally kicking it in frustration. Just as we were about
to give up, it rolled back, revealing another room, bare except for
some crates. There was a door to the corridor and Spookie went to it
quickly. It opened easily and he peered out through a crack.
"Nobody out there," he said. "Let's go!"
I had opened the only one of the crates whose lid wasn't fastened down.
It was filled nearly to the top with flat, black boxes about the size
of a paperback book. I had no idea what they were but slipped several
into my jacket pockets before following the others into the corridor.
It was still empty after we'd slunk quite a distance from our plush
prison. We went down the spiral ramp, trying to head back to the press
room, on the theory that we'd be safer among our own kind--though it
was obvious now that every Earthman aboard was at the mercy of the
Monolithians. Rod had our story and his chief interest at the moment
was finding a way to file it to Earth uncensored.
Spookie went first, then Rod, followed by Joy. I brought up the rear.
I hadn't tied my shoes and they were flopping against the bare floor,
making a racket. I stopped to tie them and the others disappeared
around the bend.
Before I could catch up with them a Monolithian had caught me.
For a fraction of a second I didn't recognize him. He'd come up quietly
behind me and just stood there until I noticed him.
"Hello, Sam," he said. "No, don't get up."
I remained on one knee and automatically finished the knot I was making
as I looked up.
The fraction of a second over, I saw who it was. Me.
I tried to think of something to do or say, but all I could do was
stare in fascination. He looked just a trifle wrong, but again I
realized almost immediately that this was only because I was seeing not
the mirror image I was used to, but an exact, unreversed duplicate.
He was looking at me with an almost hypnotic stare. My mind began to
falter, like a car engine with bad cylinders.
"Up now, but slowly," my Monolithian duplicate said. He didn't seem to
be armed. He was dressed exactly as I was, in jacket and slacks.