[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Iraqi, Hakim Arif. Everett supplied some of the information as he had it from Engels. "But I g
the biggest surprise, after all, was your opting for the identity change," Everett finished, nod
toward the comedian.
"I had a lot of time to think, before the media people got tipped off to who and where I was,"
the reply. "I decided I'd rather be a live Krause than dead with all those other charlies. Funny t
is, that sadistic little shit Hakim messed me up so much, cosmetic surgery was necessary anyhow
"How about the ear?"
"They can make me a new one. Some agent found my ear; stepped on it. Boy, some of
apologies I get," he shook the bandaged head ruefully.
Althouse brightened. "I gather from the news that Fat'ah's home base in Syria got creamed
some other bunch there and that should write 'em all off, now that Hakim Arif is feeding flie
over Los Padres National Forest."
"No, he isn't," the big Commissioner said, and shrugged into the silence he had created. "Th
for your ears only, God knows it's little enough. Seems that the Soviets get nervous when anyb
but themselves begins to panic the American public. They leaked the word don't ask me wh
quid pro quo maybe that the Iraqi turned his whole fanatical gang under interrogation."
"Probably the kind we don't like to do," Althouse put in.
"I expect so. But Arif got away into the moun-tains afoot after that explosion. They think it
the other guy, Guerrero, who's the flies' breakfast. But the Soviets think Arif was dying."
"They think; they don't know," Althouse whispered.
"Disinformation at all levels," Everett replied. "It's inevitable. Our people hope they've con-vin
the KGB that they were wrong about an FCC Commissioner hiding behind the face of Si
Kenton."
"I'm resigned to being part of it," said the comedian. "But if they can alter my larynx prop
along with the rest of it, I may show up as a retreaded top banana on TV again, one of these d
You can't beat the money."
Althouse: "And if they can't alter you enough?"
"Oh I don't have to work. We'll get together again and gin up something for the three of
maybe after the Commissioner's seven-year term is over."
"Could happen sooner than you think," Althouse said quickly. "I keep fingers into ABC surv
It'd be easy to include a few items to find out who the public sees as enemies of terrorism. If
names vary widely or change quickly, I could see that the data gets published. Maybe an artic
TV Guide."
"The point, Rhone, the point," said Everett.
"Isn't it clear? The point is, every charlie on earth should learn in time that it's the idea, and no
man, they're up against."
Everett cleared his throat. "And if you're wrong? If the same few names keep cropping up?
"He'll falsify the data," chuckled the ban-daged head.
"The hell I will," said Althouse with asperity. "I have some ethics. Nope, but I wouldn't pub
the data, either. My ethics are, uh, flexible," he admitted.
"That's a relief," said the ex-Charlie George. "Your media theories have cost us all the parts
can spare. Oh, quit looking at me like that, Rhone, I'm not blaming you. You were right about
solution."
"And Everett was right about the odds against us," Althouse sighed.
"They ran out on D'Este," Everett agreed, add-ing, "and I'll miss the Charlie George Show."
"Just remind yourself it was all a lot of hype," Rhone Althouse said, grinning at the bandaged
for understanding. "When you think of the odds this funnyman beat, you realize he was never a
proper charlie."
Everett glanced at his watch. "Time for my ultraviolet treatment," he said, getting up.
"I'll see you here again, then?" said Althouse.
"For a few more days. Then I've got a date up in the high lonesome with a one-room cabin."
did not add, and a blonde I'm very fond of, who likes to ski when she isn't near a bed or a te
court.
"In January? You're wacko, sire," Althouse laughed.
"There is that," said Everett, and sauntered out.
FRIDAY, 13 FEBRUARY, 1981:
Nearly three weeks crawled by before Everett's skin grafts satisfied the surgeons in Beverly H
The new finger would always be numb and stiff at the tip, and it would never leave a p
Fingerprints could be fashioned, but the technique was an outrage in time and money.
Maurice Everett gained almost no weight while in the clinic because the food all seemed to
vaseline in various disguises so the hell with it, and also because he daily performed all of
calisthenics he hated.
On a Friday evening, hair bleached afresh, implanted follicles flourishing in the graft at his tem [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]