The World Shuffler Read Free Page A

wobbly. The rough wood rasped his hands. As he started out, the framework sank slowly under him, with much creaking. He had already worked up a light sweat, in spite of the chill wind. No doubt about it, the easy living had taken its toll, condition-wise. Gone were the days when he could rise at dawn, breakfast on sardines, do a full day’s work over a hot drawing board, dine on sardines, and still have the energy for an evening of plastics experiments and penicillium cultures. As soon as he got out of this—if he ever got out of this—he’d have to give serious thought to reviving his interest in body-building, long walks, pre-dawn calisthenics, karate, judo, and a high-protein dieting ...
    The ring was a light tinkle, almost lost against the open sky. Lafayette froze, hearing the echo in his mind, wondering if he had imagined it, or if it had been merely the tolling of a bell down in the village; or possibly the distant ding-dong of a cowbell, if there were any cows in the vicinity and they wore bells that went ding-dong ...
    At the second ring, Lafayette broke two fingernails in his upward lunge; once his foot slipped, leaving him dangling momentarily by a one-handed grip, but he hardly noticed. A short instant later he had grabbed up the receiver, jammed it into his ear upside down.
    “Hello?” he gasped. “Hello? Yes? Lafayette O’Leary speaking ...”He quickly reversed the phone as a shrill squeaking came from the end near his mouth.
    “... This is Pratwick, Sub-Inspector of Continua,” the chirping voice was saying. “Sorry to break in on your leisure time in this fashion, but an emergency has arisen here at Central and we’re recalling certain key personnel to active duty for the duration. Now, according to our records, you’re on standby status at Locus Alpha Nine-three, Plane V-87, Fox 22 1-b, otherwise known as Artesia. Is that correct?”
    “Yes,” Lafayette blurted. “That is, no—not exactly. You see—”
    “Now, this situation requires that you abandon your interim identity at once and commence to operate underground, posing as an inmate of a maximum-security penal camp, doing ninety-nine years for aggravated mopery. Got it?”
    “Look, Mr. Pratwick, you don’t quite grasp the situation,” O’Leary broke in hastily. “At the moment, I’m perched in a windmill—which seems to be all that’s left of the royal palace—”
    “Now, you’ll report at once to the Undercover station located at the intersection of the palace sanitary main and the central municipal outflow, twelve feet under the Royal sewage-processing plant, two miles north of town. Is that clear? You’ll be in disguise, of course: rags, fleas, that sort of thing. Our man there will smuggle you into the labor camp, after fitting you out with the necessary artificial calluses, manacles, and simulated scurvy sores—”
    “Hold on!” Lafayette cried. “I can’t undertake an undercover assignment in Artesia!”, “Why not?” The voice sounded surprised. “Because I’m not in Artesia, confound it! I’ve been trying to tell you! I’m hanging on for dear life, a hundred feet above a wasteland! I mean, I was just strolling in the garden, and all of a sudden the bench disappeared, and then the rest of the garden, and—”
    “You say you’re not in Artesia?”
    “Why don’t you listen! Something terrible has happened—”
    “Kindly answer yes or no,” the sharp voice snapped. “Maybe you don’t know there’s an emergency on that could affect the entire continuum, including Artesia!”
    “That’s just the point!” O’Leary howled. “No! I’m NOT in Artesia—”
    “Oops,” the voice said briskly. “In that case, excuse the call—”
    “Pratwick! Don’t hang up!” O’Leary yelled. “You’re my sole link with everything! I’ve got to have help! They’re all gone, understand? Daphne, Adoranne, everybody! The palace, the town, the whole kingdom, for all I know—”
    “Look here, fellow, suppose I