Temporary Monsters (11 page)

Bob nodded as if he understood perfectly. “See? I told you things were going to get worse. Always trust a pooka!” He turned to the rolling blackness. “Maybe this cloud guy and I need to have a little talk.”

“Envelop! Absorb!” the void screamed. “Smash! Kill!”

Lenny wasn't so sure that was a good idea. “But what if—”

“Nonsense. Pookas are welcome everywhere! Maybe I can teach him a few dance moves.”

Bob reared onto his hind legs. With a shout of “
Hola!
” he galloped headfirst into the void.

Chapter Fifteen

The buffalo were silent at last. The noise from the games seemed to have diminished, as if Bob's departure had sucked the energy from the room. Even the void was nearly silent, emitting a muffled sigh or groan now and then, as though having a particularly bad dream or a bit of indigestion.

Lenny saw no sign of Bob the horse. Apparently the pooka had been enveloped, at least for now. Lenny was sure Bob would fare far better than he would have. How the heck could even the Dimm dissect a pooka?

“Now should I shoot somebody?” Bruno asked, shattering the stillness.

Foo surveyed the game room for an instant before he shook his head. “The situation has changed. It is not the time to confront our enemies directly.” He clapped his hands sharply.

“A good leader knows when to cut and run. Minions! Into the photo booth!”

Sheila, Bruno, and Foo were joined by a pair in red robes who must have been skulking behind the game consoles. They passed one by one through a curtain under a sign that read:
4 PHOTOS FOR $10.

Lenny heard a loud grinding noise overhead the instant the last of Foo's group disappeared through the curtain. A hatchway opened in the ceiling directly over the photo booth, and the booth rose quickly up to the floor above. As soon as the booth was out of sight, the hatchway slammed closed.

“Karnowski says we foiled their plans! They still have great escape!”

“That Sheila is a remarkable woman.” The Baron shook his head in admiration. “She would make a wonderful bride.”

Lenny shook his head. The immediate threat was gone. “It's good to see you guys again.”

Lenore looked him straight in the eye. He noticed how her hand brushed lightly against his elbow.

“We never expected to be separated for so long,” she said softly. He thought again of Lenore's reaction to Sheila. Was Lenore simply protecting a team member? Or could it be more than that?

“Karnowski knew Lenny would survive.”

“But it was bad planning,” Lenore continued with a frown. “Withers was more than just a werevole. He was our tactician as well.”

For an instant, Lenny hoped that he might take over for Withers. Lenny could become a real part of the team—and maybe something more. But how could he possibly plan if he had no idea what his gift would bring him next?

“Wait!” the Baron shouted. “My creatures tell me we are not alone.”

Lenny heard a scuffle coming from behind the fortune-telling machine. Many high-pitched rodent sounds mixed with someone crying, “Ow!” And “Get off me!” And “All right! I'll show myself!”

Lenny looked at the fortune-teller's turban and saw double. The owner of the second turban stepped out from his hiding place behind the glassed-in mannequin.

“Swami Phil!” Karnowski cried.

Phil bowed slightly in greeting. “I am still here. It was my choice to remain. And why was I hiding?” He looked at Lenny. “Because of Mr. Hodge. I was simply trying to determine the best way to approach your team.” He pulled a struggling gray and furry mouse from inside his Nehru jacket. “Being driven from my hiding place by rats was not my first choice.”

“My children!” the Baron called as the swami tossed the rat aside. The vampire looked to the others. “How can we trust a minion of Foo?”

But the Baron's objection did not faze Swami Phil. He continued to wear the same gentle smile as he continued his explanation.

“These last events have shown me something remarkable. Trying to take down someone with the sort of power Lenny Hodge holds would run counter to every rule in the Swami Code!”

It was Lenny's turn to ask the question. “The Swami Code?”

Phil nodded. “Certain rules all swamis wish to adhere to. What sort of rules? Rules against doing harm to old ladies, small children, and dogs. Rules about when you may swami for profit, and when you must do it for honor. And the greatest rule of all: that you must always help when you discover a magic greater than your own.”

He looked straight at Lenny once more.

“I am done with Foo. I pledge to find the greater Lenny.”

The ghost finder's frown deepened even more than usual. “Karnowski not so quick to trust!”

Lenore frowned in concentration. “I sense he is telling the truth—or believes he is telling the truth. He holds no falsehoods.”

That was good enough for Lenny. Even when Phil was working for Foo, Lenny had thought the swami was kind of neat. “So let's hear what he's got planned. Swami, how can you help Terrifitemps?”

Phil glanced at their surroundings. “The first part of any plan is to get out of this place. Foo may be gone, but the treachery of this place remains.”

Lenny waved at the collapsed wall where the buffalo had sung mere moments before. “Maybe we have a new exit.”

The nameless ghost popped back into the room. “I've been exploring back there. Fine for someone made of ectoplasm. For someone who has to physically, uh, place your feet down on top of things, not such a good idea.” He turned to look at the space behind the collapsed wall. “These bison sure could sing, but they also did”—the ghost paused, searching for just the right words—“what large animals do.”

Lenny cautiously stepped forward and stuck his head through the large hole. The smell hit him before the sight. Whatever this space had been before, it was covered in plaster dust. But the plaster dust was covered as well, by large mounds of brown. The buffalo were gone, but they had left a part of themselves behind.

Lenore studied the odoriferous evidence from a distance. “So besides the fact that they were excellent choral singers, these buffalo were just—buffalo?”

“Yep,” Lenny agreed. With Lenny, everything was always real. While that “everything” was also highly unlikely, it was entirely in the here and now; those were real singing bison, odiferous brown mounds included.

Swami Phil shook his head in admiration. “So your visitors are never more fantastic than they absolutely need to be. To actually see your gift in action—well.” He whistled softly. “This is enough to get me Swami of the Year.”

“You won't be swami of anything,” the Baron reminded him crossly, “if we don't find a way out of here.”

“But what about—that?” Lenny glanced back at the void, still whimpering in the corner. “Bob's still in there somewhere, isn't he? Should we try to get him out?”

Lenore shook her head. “One thing I've learned in all my years with Terrifitemps. You never lose Bob the horse.”

“We might lose
ourselves
if we don't start moving,” the Baron grumbled.

“Exactly,” Phil agreed. “I think we go out the way we came in.” The swami led them out of the game room and into the hall. “With one quick detour,” Phil added. He opened a door a few feet down the hall and went down a short set of stairs. The Terrifitemps team followed, with Lenny in the lead. He followed the swami through a second door that led into another large open space. Lenny couldn't see any people in this room, either. He saw a lot of tables, instead.

“This is Foo's central cafeteria,” the swami said. “Most of Foo's lesser minions get lunch in here every day.”

Lenny looked past the tables at half a dozen different food stations, advertising salads, pizza, sandwiches, and various hot meals. Lenny couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something. His stomach growled in agreement.

“How can we tell food not booby-trapped?” Karnowski demanded.

“Food was very important to Foo. It may be the only place we won't find treachery.” Phil waved to a food station just past the salad bar. “The road ahead will be difficult. I suggest that we all make sandwiches.” He walked toward a station stocked with loaves of bread and luncheon meat.

The swami pointed to the stations on either side. “Other food is available. The stew is over there. Foo even stores supplies for those with specialized diets.” He opened a silver door immediately beneath the sandwich counter. Inside hung three rows of dark-brown bags.

“Blood?” the Baron asked with a surprised smile. “Why would Foo keep blood on hand?”

“Do you think yours is the only organization to employ vampires?” Phil replied.

“Good point.” The Baron bent over to get a closer look at the bags. “A-positive? My favorite type.”

“We are still not alone,” Karnowski said quietly. “Look over there.”

Two shadowy figures lurked behind the soup station. They walked side by side toward Lenny. Their shadows walked with them.

“Please pardon our intrusion,” one of them said, “and note that we have no immediate abduction plans for Mr. Hodge.”

“While we hate to interrupt your meal,” the other added, “we have to ask. What have you done with our supervisor?”

“The one you abandoned in the game room?” Lenore waved back at the entrance. “We haven't taken him anywhere.”

The swirling void had reached the door to the cafeteria. It lurched inside, rolling erratically first one way and then another until it bumped against one of the many tables, where it partially absorbed an orange plastic and metal chair. Lenny took a couple of careful steps toward the quivering darkness. The void was no longer groaning. Instead, Lenny thought he heard a constant, low-level sobbing. Beneath that blanket of misery, Lenny could hear another, fainter voice, muffled but cheerful, which was talking continuously, without even a pause for breath.

“Bob's still in there.” Lenny knew no one else who could talk nonstop.

“He is?” one of the shadowy Dimm asked in alarm. “Oh dear. That changes everything.”

“Maybe we don't need our supervisor back quite yet,” the other Dimm agreed.

The two shadow figures began to slowly back away.

“You'll have to excuse us, Mr. Hodge. I'm afraid we'll have to threaten you some other time.”

“We'll be waiting back in the game room. Just in case our supervisor regains his wits. Without Bob.”

“Definitely without Bob.”

A third of the lights went out overhead as the Dimm faded from the room.

Phil looked to the ceiling. “Foo's minions are still at work. Someone is shutting down the headquarters.”

“Not to worry,” the Baron replied. “We have ways of seeing in the dark.”

“I'm not worried so much about the lights going out,” Phil agreed. “It's what Foo has planned after the lights are gone that concerns me.”

The lightless void dragged the half-absorbed chair as it struggled toward the edge of the room, rolling into a plastic trash can. It enveloped part of a plastic garbage can as it jerked forward. Its sobs were punctured by the occasional scream.

“I'm a little worried about Bob,” Lenny admitted.

“Listen!” Karnowski added. “His problems rise to the surface.”

“I cannot bear another minute!” the void whimpered. “I don't want to hear one more word about the pooka polo team!”

“Okay!” Bob's voice, faint but cheerful, replied. “What about a story about the pooka poker club? Or the pooka polka troupe?”

“No! No! No!” the darkness moaned. “I will self-destruct if I hear another word!”

“Oh.” Bob sounded slightly taken aback. “If you felt that way about it, why didn't you just say so? I'll be leaving, then.”

“Out!” the grand Dimm moaned. “Out!”

“But you know,” Bob replied, “I never did finish my story about how pookas learned to perfect their pook—”

The void began to shriek.

“Could you stop screaming for just a minute?” Lenny could barely hear Bob's voice beneath the earsplitting void. “Which way is the door?”

“I fear Lenny may be correct in his concern,” Bob said. “Who knows what will happen to a creature like the Dimm if he loses all sense of reason?”

“But Bob always lands on his feet,” Lenore protested.

The lightless void began rolling back and forth, screaming ever louder. The chair and garbage can it dragged at its edges were joined by a half-enveloped table. The shrieks had grown so loud, Lenny could no longer hear Bob at all.

“Until now,” Lenore admitted.

“And Bob did save me from this thing,” Lenny added. “I think we should save him, too.”

“Very well,” the swami said with a nod. “I will once again summon the pooka.”

Another bank of lights shut off overhead.

“Karnowski says we need to hurry!”

Phil nodded again. “I'll go as fast as I can. Would you give me a little room here? I have to do the cha-cha.”

Chapter Sixteen

Lenny and the others moved a couple tables out of the way to allow Swami Phil some room to dance.

“One, two, one-two-three!” the swami chanted tonelessly. “One, two, one-two-three.”

The darkness that was the Dimm grew very still. Lenny swore he could hear faint music coming from somewhere.

“One, two, one-two-three.”

The void began to vibrate to the beat. The roiling darkness did not seem to enjoy the tune. The rhythmic grunts seemed more like complaints as it jerked about, dragging the cafeteria furniture in its wake.

Lenny thought he heard the faintest of whinnies.

“Yes!” Phil shouted and began to clap in time with the dance, his feet tracing intricate patterns on the cafeteria floor.

“Wait a moment!” an incredibly cheerful voice replied. “Do I see daylight?”

Lenny would know that annoying tone anywhere.

“Nobody can do boogaloo like I do, nobody can do shing-a-ling—wait, I'm out?” A ghostly blue figure materialized midair. He turned back to the still-pulsating void. “Anyways, as I was saying—that's why pookas seldom form glee clubs.”

The void shrank away from the very mention of glee.

Only then did Bob seem to notice the rest of the Terrifitemps team. “Hey guys! Long time no talk!”

Lenny was the only one to say “hi” back.

The void expanded, then contracted with the slightest of quivers, as if taking a deep, ragged breath. Beyond that, the roiling darkness remained silent.

Bob grinned at everybody. “So you pulled me out? You must really be in trouble now!”

“I asked them to do it,” Lenny answered for everyone. “We have to get out of here, and I didn't want to leave you behind.”

“What?” Bob's smile turned down ever so slightly. “But we were having a fine time in there. I bet this Dimm guy never knew how educational I could be.”

The void moaned softly. “Perfectly fine,” it said in a voice just barely loud enough to be heard. “I'm sure we could talk some other time.”

“I never got the chance to tell him how pookas invented opera,” Bob continued. “Or how important they were to the development of woodworking. Let me back in there!”

The darkness jerked back violently, dragging the attached cafeteria furniture clattering behind it.

“No, Bob,” Lenny insisted. “We have a bigger job to do. We have to save our co-workers at Terrifitemps, and make the world a safer place for all of us—pookas, too.”

Bob paused. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

“It's perfectly understandable if you have to leave,” the void added tentatively. “Why don't you just go on your way? And take Bob with you. I'm all right with that. I'll peacefully live out the rest of my days, trapped by cafeteria furniture, but surrounded by peace and quiet.”

Lenny decided they should take Bob and get out of here. He turned to say that to his team, and saw someone new blocking the door.

“What have you done to our supervisor?” one of two shadowy figures demanded.

“It wasn't us,” Lenore told them flatly. “It was Bob.”

The two shadows took a step away. “Bob's here?”

“And he's leaving!” the void called from behind the Terrifitemp team. “As long as you don't block his way. Why don't you come back later? In a day or two? I don't care. Now that I'm free of Bob, I'm reorganizing my priorities.”

The void's shadowy subordinates looked to each other, conversing briefly in low tones. They both turned back toward Lenny and the team.

“O Fearless Leader,” one of the two asked, “you mean you've given up your quest for world domination?”

“What's that?” the void replied tentatively. “World domination? No, I haven't given up. Let's say I don't quite see the need to go rushing into things.” The darkness sighed. “Let me just stay in the cafeteria and smell the donuts. I think they're on that table over there.”

The other Dimm still did not move. The void quivered in the corner. Everyone stood and stared at everyone else.

“I think this is a good time to leave,” Lenny said to his team.

Karnowski frowned, waving at the swami in their midst. “We're taking this one with us?”

“He did give us Bob the horse,” Lenny pointed out.

“And this is a point in his favor?” the Baron asked.

“Karnowski does not trust swamis.”

“I remember that time you didn't like psychics,” Lenore remarked.

“And the time you couldn't stand vampires,” the Baron added. “And you should have heard what he thought about werevoles.”

Karnowski bowed his head slightly. “Even ghost finders live and learn.”

“Even the Dimm believe that discussion is sometimes in order,” one of the two shadowy figures said from his spot by the entrance.

“But discussing would be much better on the other side of that door. After you've taken Bob with you.”

“Once that is done,” the first one added, “you will beware the power of the Dimm. Well, maybe not right away.”

“But you'll probably feel our vengeance, eventually,” the second one chimed in. “Just to let you know.”

“You know,” Bob mused, “these two could use a good talking to.”

“Yes!” the void called from the back of the room. “You two talk to him!”

“No,” Lenny replied. “We have places we need to be.”

Bob considered this. “I really can't stop and talk to these guys?” He snorted in understanding. “I can't just think of myself. I'm part of the Terrifitemps team.”

“Okay Bob!” Lenny shouted. “That's the spirit!”

The rest of the Terrifitemps team did not look so cheerful. Lenny still made sure everyone got out to the hallway.

“Now we talk to the swami,” Lenore insisted. She poked her index finger at Phil's Nehru jacket. “You're responsible for everything that happened at Terrifitemps. Especially what happened to Withers and Ms. S.!”

The swami grinned a bit sheepishly. “Only in part. Foo's plans are complex. But yes, I can reverse what has happened. The spells I used are fairly benign. Your friends may not be able to perform their usual functions, but they will not come to harm.”

Lenore didn't seem impressed. “And why did you come over to our side? So you could—observe—Lenny?”

“Only one of many reasons,” Phil replied. “Foo wasn't following his part of the agreement. He was being less a monomaniacal leader and more the indulgent father. When Sheila wanted you dead, how could he refuse?” He turned to look appraisingly at Lenny. “What happened between the two of you, anyway?”

Lenny hadn't thought their relationship was that bad. But then, looking at the rest of his dating history, what did he have to compare it to?

“With Foo changing all the rules, how could I be true to the Swami Code?” Phil continued. “But I can tell you all about that later. Right now, my Swami Sense is telling me it's time we leave.”

“Not so fast!”
Foo's voice boomed from far overhead.
“I'm not through with you yet!”

“And neither am I,” Sheila's voice came from behind them. Lenny spun around to see her marching in their direction. She had changed from her black evening dress into a more sensible V-neck sweater and jeans. She had pulled her short blonde hair into a stubby ponytail. And she was frowning. This looked like the Sheila he remembered.

“You're not leaving,” she continued, in a voice that said she expected to be obeyed. “It's high time we finished this. We're going to have the talk we needed to have so long ago. Or else.”

Lenny realized she was carrying a revolver in her right hand.

“That talk?” he whispered, mostly to himself. What did
that
mean? And did the talking involve guns?

“Wow,” Bob the horse said softly at Lenny's side. “She even scares me.”