Overtime. Part 50

'Toss you for it?'

'Do I look like I was born yesterday?'

'Right now,' Mark II replied, 'I wouldn't like to bet on it. For all I know you probably were. And tomorrow. Now can we adjourn this and do some running away, because -'

'If we toss for it,' Mark I went on, ignoring him(self), 'you'll know which side the coin came down, because you're later than me and...'

This is crazy, said Mark II to himself; a third self, presumably. Perhaps that's what's meant by a multi-faceted personality. Or terminal schizophrenia. 'All right,' he said, 'you can call.'

'Ah yes,' Mark I replied smugly, 'it's all right for you Lo say that, because you know I called wrong and so...'

Blondel took a deep breath, shouted 'Behind you!' and, while his head was turned, kicked himself in the reproductive organs. Then, while he was lying on the ground groaning weakly, he jumped over himself and ran.

Straight into an oncoming TAM patrol.

He turned and fled. It wasn't exactly easy running, not with this awful pain in his lower abdomen, but somehow he managed. Fear probably had something to do with it. Also a very great desire to find himself again and kick his head in.

About fifty yards down the tunnel, he collided again.

'Right, you,' he chorused, and let fly a powerful right hook. His two right hands landed in his two left eyes at exactly the same moment. He fell over and went to sleep.

'Straw.'

'No.'

'Shadows.'

'No.'

'Spiders' webs.'

'That's two words.'

Guy snarled quietly. 'Very true,' he said, 'but are they the right two words?'

'No.'

'That sounds like a very interesting game,' said the voice pleasantly, from his corner of the cell. 'Would you mind explaining the rules to me?'

Guy turned his head. He prided himself on his adaptability, but the prospect of this state of affairs continuing much longer wasn't exactly cheering him up. 'It's a very boring game, actually,' he said. 'Sand,' he added.

'There isn't any sand,' Isoud replied.

'How do you know?'

'She's right, actually,' the voice broke in diffidently. 'Or at least I haven't come across any. Not yet, that is. I may be wrong, of course.'

'What we do,' Isoud said to the voice, 'is I think of a word and then I say I Spy With My Little Eye Something Beginning With S. That's a clue.'

'Oh yes?' said the voice.

'That lets you know the word begins with S.'

'Excuse me if I'm being a bit slow,' said the voice, 'but what if the word begins with something else? G, for example, or T. Or can you only choose a word beginning with S?'

'No,' said Isoud, 'if the word began with G, I would say I Spy With My Little Eye Something Beginning With G.'

'Oh I see,' said the voice. 'Can I have a go?'

'I haven't finished yet,' Guy said irritably. 'Stones,' he suggested.

'No.'

'It must be stones,' he protested. 'There isn't anything else beginning with S.' He looked around sadly. 'There's not a h.e.l.l of a lot beginning with anything, really.'

'Well that's where you're wrong, Mr Clever,' Isoud replied smugly. 'There's sandstone, frinstance.'

'Is it sandstone?'

'No.'

Sotto voce, Guy asked G.o.d to give him strength. 'All right,' he said, 'I give in, now tell me what it is before I go completely round the bend.'

'Shank,' said Isoud proudly.

'Shank?'

'The shank,' Isoud explained, 'of the lock. I told you it was a clever one.'

'Very clever indeed,' said the voice, 'if I may make so bold.'

'Shank?'

'There is such a word,' Isoud said defensively.

'Yes,' Guy replied, 'but you can't see it.'

'Yes I can.'

'Then you must have b.l.o.o.d.y good eyesight,' Guy snapped, 'because the shank is part of the works, ergo it's inside the lock, ergo you couldn't see it from here even if it wasn't as dark as a bag in here, which it is. I win.'

'Be like that, then.'

'Actually ...' said the voice, and then became aware, no doubt by some form of low-level telepathy, that he was being glowered at by both parties. 'Sorry,' he said, and went back to plaiting spiders' webs.

'My go,' said Guy firmly.