as he talked, not fast enough, though, to keep up with him. "Then I want to backtrack to Berlin, hit Brussels, visit St. Petersburg and Mos-34
ROGER ZELAZNY
cow, skip back over the Atlantic and stop at Boston, New York, Dee-Cee, Chicago," (Lorel was working up a sweat by then) "drop down to Yucatan, and jump back up to the California territory."
"In that order?" I asked.
"Pretty much so," he said.
"What's wrong with India and the middle East-or the Far East, for that matter?" asked a voice which I recognized as Phil's. He had come in after the lights had gone down low.
"Nothing," said Myshtigo, "except that it's mainly mud and sand and hot, and has nothing whatsoever to do with what I'm after."
"What are you after?"
"A story."
"What kind of story?"
"I'll send you an autographed copy."
"Thanks."
"Your pleasure."
"When do you wish to leave?" I asked him.
"Day after tomorrow," he said.
"Okay."
"I've had detailed maps of the specific sites made up for you. Lorel tells me they were delivered to your office this afternoon."
"Okay again. But there is something of which you may not be fully cognizant. It involves the fact that everything you've named so far is mainlandish.
We're pretty much an island culture these days, and for very good reasons. During the Three Days the Mainland got a good juicing, and most of the places you've named are still inclined to be somewhat hot. This, though, is not the only reason they are considered unsafe ..."
"I am not unfamiliar with your history and I am THIS IMMORTAL
aware of the radiation precautions," he interrupted.
"Also, I am aware of the variety of mutated life forms which inhabit Old Places. I am concerned, but not worried."
I shrugged in the artificial twilight.
"It's okay by me . . ."
"Good." He took another sip'of Coke. "Let me have a little light then, Lorel."
"Right, Srin."
It was light again.
As the screen was sucked upward behind him, Myshtigo asked me, "Is it true that you are acquainted with several mambos and houngans here at the Port?"
"Why, yes," I said. "Why?"
He approached my chair.
"I understand," he said conversationally, "that voodoo, or voudoun, has survived pretty much unchanged over the centuries."
"Perhaps," I said. "1 wasn't around here when it got started, so I wouldn't know for sure."
"I understand that the participants do not much appreciate the presence of outsiders-"
"That too, is correct. But they'll put on a good show for you, if you pick the right hounfor and drop in on them with a few gifts."
"But I should like very much to witness a real ceremony. If I were to attend one with someone who was not a stranger to the participants, perhaps then I could obtain the genuine thing."
< "Why should you want to? Morbid curiosity con-
; cerning barbaric customs?"
/ "No. I am a student of comparative religions."
f I studied his face, but couldn't tell anything from it.
36 f ROGER ZELAZNY
j^tt had been awhile since I'd visited with Mama
^Julie and Papa Joe or any of the others, and the hounfor wasn't that far away, but I didn't know how they'd take to me bringing a Vegan around. They'd never objected when I'd brought people, of course.
"Well.. ."I began.
"I just want to watch," he said. "I'll stay out of the way. They'll hardly know I'm there."
I mumbled a bit and finally gave in. I knew Mama Julie pretty well and I didn't see any real harm being done, no matter what.
So, "Okay," said I, "I'll take you to one. Tonight, if you like."
He agreed, thanked me, and went off after another Coke. George, who had not strayed from the arm of my chair, leaned toward me and observed that it would be very interesting to dissect a Vegan. I agreed with him.
When Myshtigo returned, DOS Santos was at his side.
"What is this about you taking Mister Myshtigo to a pagan ceremony?" he asked, nostrils flared and quivering.
"That's right," I said, "I am."
"Not without a bodyguard you are not."
I turned both palms upward.
"I am capable of handling